The night passed without incident.
The next day, as the Tian family released another batch of land for sale, the Han family couldn’t absorb it quickly enough. Immediately, the land prices that had just stabilized due to the Tian family’s land acquisition dropped by another twenty percent. Combined with the deliberate propaganda spread by the Xu family, this triggered another wave of land selling.
Madam Fang heard the news early in the morning and was visibly annoyed. “How could this happen? The foundation we’ve worked so hard to protect is being squandered in the blink of an eye by Zhen Niang,” she complained bitterly to Li Jingming.
Li Jingming frowned and walked back to his room with his hands behind his back. Though he appeared concerned, he understood Han Yigui well enough to know he wasn’t one to act rashly.
“Ha! The Han family will lose everything this time. Our shops might change hands soon,” Madam Yao muttered outside the store.
“After all, she’s just a young woman – how could she understand business? Li Jingming managed things without incident for over a decade, but barely a month after Miss Zhen arrived, the Li family might lose their last remaining assets,” the neighbors sighed.
Zhen Niang naturally heard such rumors, but she paid them no mind. The facts would speak for themselves.
She continued with her regular duties, leaving the land acquisition matters entirely to her uncle’s handling. These days, Zhen Niang focuses all her attention on the Mo Zhuang. The ink workshop in the back courtyard was now fully equipped, just waiting for the workers from Huizhou to arrive before beginning production.
“The Tian family has lowered their ink prices again,” Zheng Fuli entered with a dark expression, speaking heatedly.
Zhen Niang frowned, “Has the Tian family lost their minds? The original ink prices were already at cost. Do they intend to sell at a loss?”
At this time, ink was sold by weight. The most basic common ink cost over one tael of silver per jin, while medium-grade ink ranged from two to seven or eight taels per jin. As for premium ink, it wasn’t sold by weight but rather by set or collection, such as four pieces per set.
The pricing for premium ink varied greatly, ranging from several dozen to over a hundred tael with no fixed standard.
Currently, the Tian family was selling common ink at eight qian per jin, which was already extremely low even for the most basic ink. Given that the Tian family’s ink held tribute-grade status, other ink workshops would have to sell their common ink for even less. And common ink represented the largest share of ink sales volume.
Now that the Tian family was reducing prices even further from the eight qian baseline, they would surely lose a significant amount of capital.
“They won’t be selling at a loss. They’ve introduced an exclusive edition of ink. The price is double that of the same-grade regular ink. This way, the profits from that line can cover the losses from common ink and still leave a surplus. The Tian family played this move well,” Zheng Fuli explained.
Zhen Niang hadn’t expected the Tian family to introduce an exclusive edition of ink. With their reputation for tribute-grade ink, launching an exclusive edition would naturally attract collectors. This way, the Tian family could dominate the common ink market with their low-priced products while advancing further in the high-end market. It was worth noting that when certain ink products were collected by famous collectors, their prestige would increase, which in turn enhanced the Tian family’s reputation.
Thus, the Tian family would control both high-end and low-end ink markets. They wouldn’t need to focus on the mid-range market, allowing them to monopolize Nanjing’s ink trade.
In this situation, when the Li family reopened, how could they attract any customers?
Setting aside other factors, this period of price warfare had almost saturated Nanjing’s ink market. Even if the Li family matched the lower prices, ink wasn’t a daily necessity, and the market would need time to digest the current supply.
“Miss Zhen, should we consider postponing our ink workshop’s opening?” Zheng Fuli suggested.
“Postpone? Until when? Though the Tian family has lowered prices, people are only buying because of the cost advantage. If we delay, once everyone becomes accustomed to using Tian ink, it will be even harder to compete for Nanjing’s market share,” Zhen Niang replied. In her view, not only should they not postpone the Li ink workshop’s opening, but they should advance it.
Habits could be difficult to change.
The Tian family had the prestige of tribute-grade ink – there was no way to compete with them in the high-end market. Therefore, the Li family should focus on maintaining their original mid-range market while battling in the common market.
“Here, help me purchase some items,” Zhen Niang said, taking out a paper and writing a shopping list with her ink brush before handing it to Zheng Fuli.
“A distillation apparatus? What for? That’s used in alchemy,” Zheng Fuli asked in surprise after reading the list.
“Yes, I need it to make a new type of ink,” Zhen Niang explained. To enter the ink market now and achieve success, or at least secure a position, they needed to take a different approach. With high-end and mid-range markets out of reach, the competition would be in the low-end market, where liquid ink would be most competitive.
With the provincial examinations approaching, scholars would value every minute of their test preparation. If they could save time on ink grinding, that would be appealing. Thus, liquid ink would succeed through novelty, practicality, and affordability. Zhen Niang was confident they could compete in the low-end market.
However, making liquid ink required alcohol, which was why she asked Zheng Fuli to buy the distillation apparatus for purification.
Hearing Zhen Niang’s explanation and seeing her expression, Zheng Fuli could tell she had a plan to deal with the Tian family. He asked no more questions and left with the list.
“Master Ma, take out the glue we brought, light the stove, set up the pot, and we can start boiling glue tomorrow,” Zhen Niang instructed.
“Yes,” Master Ma replied without questions and went to prepare.
“Miss Zhen, Manager Yan from Yihou Money House is here,” Er Gou ran in to announce.
Zhen Niang remembered Luo Jiu’s promise from yesterday – this visitor must be bringing the “Han Xizai’s Night Revels” painting. She went out to receive him.
“Greetings, Manager Yan,” Zhen Niang welcomed him into the front shop, instructing a servant girl to serve tea.
“You’re too kind, Miss Zhen. This is the ‘Han Xizai’s Night Revels’ – our master asked me to bring it for your viewing,” Yan Xilai got straight to the point, presenting the painting to Zhen Niang.
Rather than taking it immediately, Zhen Niang led Yan Xilai to the ink appreciation alcove. She had him spread the painting on the tea table and then called for paper. Taking out her ink brush, she said to Yan Xilai, “Please have a seat, Manager Yan. This won’t take long.”
“Take your time, Miss Zhen,” Yan Xilai replied.
Zhen Niang nodded, having Er Gou attend to Yan Xilai while she focused intently on the painting. She began drawing an ink outline sketch – naturally, she couldn’t keep such an important painting and would need to return it to Yan Xilai. She didn’t want to risk anything happening to it, as she couldn’t afford to compensate for its loss. Thus, she would simply study it and make an outline sketch.
Zhen Niang understood that for Luo Jiu to entrust such an important painting to Yan Xilai, they must share a deep bond of trust beyond mere master and manager. Otherwise, who would easily entrust such a treasure to another?
These thoughts flashed through her mind briefly before she immersed herself in the painting, spending nearly half an hour on her sketch.
Though Yan Xilai maintained a calm exterior, inside he burned with curiosity. No one knew better than him how important this “Han Xizai’s Night Revels” was to Luo Jiu. Everyone in the north knew it was the only valuable item left from Luo Jiu’s ancestors. It was said that even when begging for food, Luo Jiu never pawned this painting, and would normally fight anyone who merely touched it.
Yet now he had eagerly sent it for this Miss Li to study.
Yan Xilai decided it would be worthwhile to have his wife visit here more often.
“All done. Thank you for your patience, Manager Yan. Please convey my gratitude to Master Luo as well,” Zhen Niang said after completing her outline sketch, standing and cupping her hands in thanks.
“You’re too kind, Miss Li,” Yan Xilai returned the gesture and began carefully rolling up the painting. Just as he was about to leave, Zheng Fuli rushed in excitedly from outside.
“Miss Zhen! Breaking news – Hai Rui has been imprisoned. He won’t be coming to Nanjing,” Zheng Fuli announced excitedly, though his gaze toward Zhen Niang held some thoughtful reflection.
When Zhen Niang had mortgaged the Nanjing shops to borrow money for land purchases, Zheng Fuli had privately disagreed. However, he hadn’t truly tried to stop her. Firstly, this was a matter within her authority to decide – even if he delayed it by a few days, he couldn’t prevent it if she was determined. Secondly, he harbored certain feelings in his heart. Ever since first seeing her prepare ink glue, her image had been imprinted in his mind. But as time passed, her steps had grown increasingly bold, and he found himself struggling to keep up. Additionally, with the eighth branch taking over the ink workshop and Zhen Niang receiving a workshop share as dowry, though his feelings had grown stronger, they seemed increasingly inappropriate.
He would have preferred if Zhen Niang had remained as she was initially when taking over the workshop, needing others’ support and assistance. That way, he could have stayed by her side.
Because of these feelings, he had harbored a slight hope that this risky venture would fail, so he could help her through the difficulties again.
The past few days seemed to confirm that Zhen Niang’s gamble had failed, as land prices had fallen to new lows. But circumstances were unpredictable, and the situation suddenly reversed dramatically.
With the “First Memorial of Direct Remonstrance to the Throne,” Hai Rui had shown tremendous courage, leading to his imprisonment. This meant he wouldn’t come to Nanjing, and the land prices that had been affected by expectations of his arrival would rapidly rise again.
Thus, Zhen Niang’s risky move hadn’t failed but had instead succeeded spectacularly.
Reflecting on each of Zhen Niang’s moves since taking over the ink workshop, Zheng Fuli realized she had achieved significant gains in every venture. Remembering the distillation apparatus she had just asked him to buy for new ink products, he found himself looking forward to what would come next.
“Congratulations, Miss Zhen,” Yan Xilai smiled and cupped his hands in congratulation.
He had personally handled the loan when Li and Han came to borrow money. Loans required stating their purpose, and Han Yigui’s actions hadn’t been hidden from anyone these past days. Now, with Hai Rui’s imprisonment, the Li and Han families had become the biggest beneficiaries of this land crisis.
“Thank you. The Li and Han families were merely protecting themselves,” Zhen Niang replied with a smile. Although she had known from history that Hai Rui would be imprisoned, that was still a historical record – she hadn’t been entirely certain how events would unfold. Now, a great weight had been lifted from her mind.
In the following days, news of Hai Rui’s imprisonment swept through Nanjing like a storm. Land prices immediately soared, but by then, there was no land available for trading in all of Nanjing. Those who had sold earlier could only regret bitterly, while those who hadn’t now knew to hold on tightly to their land.
Thus, Nanjing’s land market now had prices but no transactions.
Wang Sifang slammed his teacup down with a crash, his face ashen. Han Yigui had turned the tables, and as Han Yigui rose, so did Hu Zonglin.
All his previous calculations had come to nothing. “It’s infuriating! That worthless boy ruined everything!” Wang Sifang blamed everything on Luo Jiu.
Meanwhile, the Han family was triumphant, and the Li family was equally jubilant.
“Well done, Zhen Niang,” Madam Huang patted Zhen Niang’s hand.
“The young are truly remarkable,” Li Jingming sighed.
Madam Fang’s expression was a mix of happiness and displeasure, difficult to describe.
“Just dumb luck,” grumbled Madam Ge.
The happiest was Hua’er, who bounced over to Zhen Niang as soon as she returned: “Elder Sister, I’ve made a fortune, haven’t I?”
“Yes, triple your investment,” Zhen Niang replied with a smile.
Hua’er immediately began counting on her fingers – she had only invested over ten taels, so with triple returns, wouldn’t that be over thirty taels, nearly forty? Her eyes immediately narrowed into happy crescents.
Hearing the conversation between Zhen Niang and Hua’er, Madam Fang suddenly remembered when Zhen Niang had invited her to invest together. Her heart filled with such regret that her intestines turned green.