Yu Mu did not return until midday, and when he did, he spoke noticeably faster than before. “This subordinate has verified the facts. Among the dozens of large and small gambling houses in Jinyang, violent incidents and deaths are extremely rare. The houses operate under a set of rules: small loans must not exceed twenty taels — this applies to common folk. Larger loans must not exceed one hundred taels — this applies to households and merchants of some means. Beyond that, there are separate credit limits for the wealthy.”

“Meaning they give people room to breathe — even those who borrow can afford to repay.”

“Yes. And the interest rates are far lower than anything this subordinate has encountered elsewhere.”

“They are fattening the pigs. Feed them up, then bleed them. Leave them alive to keep feeding them and keep bleeding them.” Hua Zhi’s mind raced through the implications. “Looked at as a whole, the gambling culture in Jinyang seems… almost respectable.”

“Yes. This subordinate has arranged people to go back and look more closely at each house tonight.” Unlike the previous evening’s aimlessness, Yu Mu now had a clear direction — and so did the Qisu Department. They had never been able to find a point of entry, yet it hadn’t occurred to them that an excess of peacefulness was itself a problem.

That afternoon, Hua Zhi led her group out of the inn.

They had no particular destination — they simply followed the liveliest streets, going wherever the crowds were. By the time they finished, she had formed a vivid sense of Jinyang’s prosperity.

“Sister Hua, don’t you feel this place is even livelier than the capital?” Sitting on the second floor of a teahouse, listening to the rhythmic rise and fall of a storyteller’s voice below, Xiao Liu said with a grin. The ground floor was packed — the second floor was considerably quieter.

Before Hua Zhi could reply, the man at the neighboring table cut in with a note of civic pride: “Naturally! Jinyang, compared to the capital, is only missing an imperial palace. The quality of life here is far more enjoyable.”

Hua Zhi looked toward the speaker — a man in his early twenties, face lightly flushed, expression a little unruly. Whether from drink or simply disposition was hard to say. He sat alone at his table.

When he noticed her looking, he actually raised his teacup in her direction — with all the air of someone proposing a toast.

Hua Zhi leaned forward slightly. “My younger brother is still young. Please forgive him, sir.”

“No, no, no — he’s absolutely right. Our Jinyang really is livelier than the capital.”

Hua Zhi glanced at Xiao Liu. He caught her meaning at once and looked back at the man with all the sulky indignation of a boy his age. “How could Jinyang compare with the capital? It only looks lively because there are more merchants here. The capital doesn’t need any of that to add to its splendor.”

“Oh ho ho, that’s quite a thing to say.” The man carried his cup and came right over, dropping himself into a seat without ceremony. “Alright, let’s compare.”

Hua Zhi lowered her head to hide a smile. This man — he really did seem a little drunk. Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought he was proposing a drinking contest. But this suited her purposes exactly.

“Fine, let’s compare.” Xiao Liu put on the air of a spirited young man. “You set the terms.”

The man let out a couple of chuckles. “No crying if you lose.”

“Whoever cries is a puppy.”

“Ha! Now you’ve got my attention.” He took a sip of tea, seemed to find it too weak, set it down with distaste, and his eyes flickered with thought. “Jinyang has east and west markets by day, and a night market to the south in the evenings. Can the capital say the same?”

Xiao Liu blinked. “Jinyang has no curfew?”

“Of course there’s a curfew. From the second watch to the fourth.”

“Only two hours?”

“That’s right.” The man looked rather pleased with himself. “The capital doesn’t have that, does it? I’ve been to the capital — nothing going on at night. Only place with any life is the brothels.”

Xiao Liu slapped the table. “Watch what you say — my sister’s right here.”

The man was brash but not ungentlemanly. He rose and offered a bow, clearly embarrassed. “Had too much yellow wine — my mouth’s lost its gatekeeper. Please don’t take it to heart, miss.”

Hua Zhi poured tea for everyone all around. “Please, sir, take your seat. When one is out and about, I can take such words in stride.”

“The miss has spirit.” The man sat back down and resumed his contest with the boy who was a head shorter than he was. “Jinyang has a river of lotus flowers — the Lotus River — where people can come to admire them in bloom. When the lotus seeds ripen, anyone may come and gather them freely. Can the capital say that?”

“It doesn’t cost anything?”

“Not a coin.”

Xiao Liu’s eyes went wide. “Really? Who planted them all?”

“You didn’t know? Our Jinyang’s other name is Lotus City, and it all comes from the Lotus River. That river has been here for over a hundred years.”

Xiao Liu didn’t know about the Lotus River, but Hua Zhi did. What surprised her was that anyone could come and freely gather the lotus seeds — a small detail that spoke to Jinyang’s wealth.

The man was clearly very satisfied by the astonishment of his audience, and continued on: “Jinyang has the largest horse track in all of Daqing. Can the capital say that?”

“The capital certainly has a horse track — whoever said Jinyang’s is the biggest!”

“Everyone who’s seen it knows Jinyang’s is the biggest.” The man lifted his chin proudly. “If you don’t believe me, young sir, I’ll take you there right now to broaden your horizons.”

Xiao Liu looked toward Sister Hua, silently asking permission — which, to the man’s eyes, looked like a younger brother petitioning his elder sister. He helpfully added, “The horse track is just to the west of the city. Less than half an hour to get there. If you’re not in a hurry, miss, you’re both welcome to come.”

“The horse track is inside the city?”

“Outside — horse tracks take up a lot of land. There’s no space for one that size within the city walls.”

Hua Zhi lowered her gaze, as if in passing. “You seem to know the horse track very well, sir.”

“That’s because my family has… ahem… a certain standing there. Visiting a few times is no trouble at all.”

Hua Zhi acted as if she hadn’t noticed the way his words had swerved, and simply said, “It’s already getting late today. Would we make it back before the city gates close?”

“The gates in Jinyang close an hour later than elsewhere. You’ll have plenty of time.” The man immediately stood up, absolutely determined to take these out-of-towners to see the greatest horse track and make them concede defeat with their own eyes and ears!

Hua Zhi rose and gave a small bow. “I won’t be going, but I’d trouble the sir — Mister Zeng — to take my brother and let him broaden his horizons a bit. Otherwise he’ll never know how big the world outside truly is.”

The man blinked. She was just… handing the boy over to him like that?

Hua Zhi glanced back. Jia Yang understood and assigned four of his men to fall in behind the Sixth Prince. Added to the four the Sixth Prince had brought himself, and with more keeping watch in the shadows, they could hold their own against anything until reinforcements arrived.

Hua Zhi’s ease made the man feel reassured in turn. Wine had gone to his head, his mind full of nothing but making this little kid admit Jinyang was better than the capital — he didn’t think too hard about it, and charged the boy forward. “Can you ride?”

“Of course!”

“Now that’s proper. Come on, we’re riding over.”

Hua Zhi stood on the second floor and watched the group ride off. Nian Qiu said quietly, “Is it alright to let the Sixth Prince go like that?”

“His eyes are clear and honest. He may be a little wild, but his nature seems sound.” A person who argued so enthusiastically for the good of his hometown couldn’t be truly bad — at most he’d been spoiled a bit.

She went downstairs. The storyteller was gone by then, and the teahouse had grown considerably quieter.

She boarded the carriage and, lifting the curtain, gave her instructions: “Look into this man’s background. That horse track is almost certainly connected to his family.”

Jia Yang bowed in acknowledgment.