“After this whole business is over, once I’m feeling better, let’s… let’s consummate the marriage properly…”
In the rain-soaked night, Su Tan’er choked the words out. Ning Yi was quiet for a moment, then nodded.
“Uh… cough, that’s not what I meant by that, but…” he smiled, “yeah.”
The words dissolved into the deep curtain of rain outside; a light breeze drifted in, setting the candlelight flickering. For Su Tan’er, saying something like that had surely taken no small amount of courage—she lay there, falling into an embarrassed silence for a moment.
A large part of her illness had always stemmed from psychological strain, and saying this out loud would likely ease some of the pressure weighing on her. But a moment later, as if some thought had crossed her mind, she bit her lower lip gently.
“If… if this doesn’t work out, husband… would you…”
“Would I what?”
“Would you…” Su Tan’er trailed off, clearly struggling to finish the thought, before finally shaking her head. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“Way to kill the mood…” Ning Yi looked at her for a moment, seeming to guess roughly what she meant, and shook his head. “I’m not saying this for the Su family’s sake. Whether things work out or not, what’s between the two of us stays what it is regardless… and besides, getting through this business isn’t actually that hard.”
Su Tan’er nodded, her expression finally relaxing a little. Then, after a moment, she gave a faintly troubled smile at his last remark. “This matter… husband doesn’t understand it…”
“I understand plenty.” Ning Yi glanced back at her. “I went through the accounts from the past three years. The Su family’s foundation is still solid—whoever’s behind this, stabbing someone and then twisting the blame back on them is genuinely vicious, but the real damage doesn’t come from customers. The Su family’s business spans the whole country; no one’s going to sit around debating some shopkeeper’s character in Jiangning before deciding whether to walk into a shop in some far-off province. Where it would actually hurt is with closer partners, suppliers—the Su family will take some hits there, but compared to a tactic like this, the real impact is limited. Given the Su family’s foundation, it’s hard for a scandal in one corner to bring the whole thing down; at most it costs a small piece. Where it really matters, especially in the near term, is right here around Jiangning—and the thing most at risk in the immediate future is the imperial merchant business. Once this is confirmed as fact, the authorities will factor in their own reputation and stop dealing with the Su family…”
“That’s the imperial merchant business…” Su Tan’er murmured, echoing him.
“So… the main thing is still solving the imperial merchant problem.”
“Husband doesn’t understand…” She turned her gaze toward the inner side of the bed, repeating it softly, not letting Ning Yi see her expression. Ning Yi sighed, pulled the piece of cloth from inside his robe, and placed it in her hand. “Don’t understand the imperial merchant business, or don’t understand this cloth?”
Su Tan’er turned back, looked at the cloth in her hand, then at Ning Yi. “Husband… already knows?”
“Honestly, not entirely.” Ning Yi shook his head. “Xing’er seemed reluctant to say much, having trouble getting it out, so I didn’t press her.”
Su Tan’er held the cloth for a while, glancing off to the side now and then, thinking things over, before finally looking back at Ning Yi. A faint smile crossed her face, though her eyes carried something sorrowful—clearly, whenever she thought of this lately, it was with this same expression on the verge of tears, or perhaps she’d already cried over it more than once in secret.
“Husband, the imperial merchant position… it’s not happening… I’ve been thinking about this since three years ago, quietly preparing for three years. Such a beautiful color it was—I really thought I’d finally gotten it right, and then it turned out like this… it’s like being cheated by someone. We didn’t use the usual saffron-yellow dye, we found a new method—cinnabar, madder root, alum, gardenia… it must have been a formula no one had ever used before. Just over two months ago I thought this would finally shock everyone, and then… and then it just…”
She sniffed, biting her lip gently. Ning Yi thought for a moment. “When did it start fading?”
“Almost two months now, and I have no idea why.” Su Tan’er shook her head. “After we made it, we tried all sorts of things—sun exposure, fire, washing it over and over with water—nothing changed, it stayed just as beautiful. There was no problem with it at all, and then… in the end, it just faded. I don’t know what to do. After Father collapsed, they finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and came to tell me it might not be solvable. I told them to keep trying, but I already knew… there was nothing to be done…”
“This color is incredibly difficult to formulate—there’s so little to work with in yellow pigments to begin with, and the smallest error in the mix throws the color off entirely. I have no idea where to even begin adjusting it. It just happened to land on that bright imperial yellow in the formula we stumbled onto by accident…” She paused briefly, tears welling in her eyes. “There’s no way, husband… we can’t get it now…”
The textile industry had, over so many years of development, developed its own methods for what would today be called colorfastness testing—but with the particular formula Su Tan’er had found, those methods had clearly failed her. Perhaps some subtle chemical reaction at a delicate ratio had produced that particular bright yellow—and of course, with his current level of chemical knowledge, there was no way he could solve this on a technical level.
Su Tan’er wasn’t someone who admitted defeat easily. But when three years of effort ultimately turned out to have been for nothing, and the hope for the imperial merchant position suddenly vanished—combined with exhaustion, stress, catching a chill, and everything else piling up all at once—it wasn’t so surprising that she’d suddenly collapsed. That’s just how the human spirit works: one moment you’re at your peak, and even with your father down, so long as the imperial merchant crisis can still be resolved, it feels manageable; the next moment you find you’re holding no cards at all, and once you’ve been knocked down from that peak, everything that’s been building comes crashing out all the more violently.
Still, Ning Yi was, at that moment, looking at the piece of cloth with genuine interest. He took it from her hand. “Don’t you still have the loom improvements? I saw in the accounts that you’d been pulling money out for that…”
“There’s not much left to change there—it was originally prepared specifically for the imperial merchant business, and that kind of thing requires a huge amount of capital to invest for very little return. If it’s just for the tribute quota, it actually becomes a burden. The Weaving Bureau only ever treats people like cheap labor…”
“That’s still enough. In the end, it still comes down to solving the imperial merchant problem…”
“But it can’t be solved anymore… husband…” Su Tan’er said this, then paused, looking at Ning Yi’s expression, unaffected by what she’d said. “Hm?”
“It might be hard to get, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be solved.” Ning Yi smiled. “There’s a solution for cloth that doesn’t fade, and there’s a solution for cloth that does fade. As for how to use it, that still needs some thought…”
Su Tan’er considered this. “Husband… you’re not thinking of passing the fading off as a good thing, are you? That won’t work…”
She was, after all, a clever woman, and knew that some things could be managed through talk, through clever presentation—Ning Yi had a reputation as a gifted writer, and she wondered if he meant to spin the fading as some kind of special feature of the cloth. That approach could work in certain situations, but here it would amount to nothing more than making a joke out of the palace itself. Ning Yi shook his head. “That’s not how I’m doing it. There’s still some things I don’t understand—mainly, about the Weaving Bureau officials involved in this whole imperial merchant business, what leverage each family is bringing to the table, and exactly how far along the loom improvements have gotten. If you’ve got the energy, tell me about it now, and I’ll lay out the plan afterward, but…”
He looked down at the cloth. “The imperial merchant business is the key to all of this. Whoever our opponent is, whether they show their face or not, we can use this to draw them out and catch them all in one net. So no matter what, this imperial merchant business… we’re still fighting for it to the end…”
…
“…Why? Because we have the strength to back it up!”
That morning, with the rain still falling, in the room next door normally used for business discussions, Ning Yi was addressing a room full of managers and stewards in a formal tone. Honestly, this was the first time since coming to the Su household that he’d spoken up so publicly, in such a “formal” setting, but with his blue robe and headscarf, he cut a decent enough figure—looking, at least, like someone who’d genuinely stepped up in a crisis. Or at least… trying his best to look that way.
He tapped a folding fan against his palm and glanced around the room.
“…Once we settle the imperial merchant matter, all the scheming from those small-minded troublemakers outside, all the chatter within our own household, will be silenced in one stroke, once and for all. As for who exactly is watching us from every side, that’s not something we need to worry about—others will take care of that. The old patriarch will handle those matters. Our job is simply to do our own part well, stabilize things, and secure that imperial merchant quota by whatever means necessary.”
“So, for the next month or so, I’ll be taking charge of this. Of course, I know I have no experience in this area—for major decisions, I’ll be consulting with Tan’er, and all of you managers have far more experience here than I do, so I’ll be turning to you for guidance. I hope Steward Liao and everyone else will bear with me and offer whatever teaching you can…”
Ning Yi cupped his hands respectfully, then broke into a smile.
“But when it comes to the imperial merchant matter, we need to start really opening things up going forward. I’m a scholar by training, never touched the business world before, but there are certain things that hold true across the board, and I do understand the basics. For instance, last New Year, I happened to guess at some things and, with just a few words, helped sort out the He family’s business situation, heh… so, there’s one thing I’m fairly confident about.”
“A good product!” He tapped the folding fan against the table, punctuating each word. “A good product is a good product! Wherever you put it!”
“It’s just like us scholars—a person with real talent will shine no matter where they are, people will eventually take notice. So, when the time comes to sell ourselves, there’s no need to stay modest about it. Steward Liao and Steward Nie have recently taken on the task of dealing with the various officials at the Weaving Bureau—we’ve already shown our hand, everyone knows what we’re after. But I think there’s still something missing…”
“We’ve made it clear that we intend to take the imperial merchant position—the Xue and Wu families have both taken notice—but we haven’t clearly shown our hand in terms of what we’re actually bringing to the table. Going forward, I’d like all of you, whether hosting a dinner or discussing the next business deal, to make it clear to everyone that we’ve been preparing for this for years already! We don’t fight battles we’re not sure of! We already have the finest cloth there is! That is real strength, and no one can match it!”
“Right now, tensions between our dynasty and the Liao are running high, and the tribute payments are bound to hit trouble, run into friction. Every time a shift like this happens, that’s exactly when opportunity arrives. In the past… the Xue and Wu families treated the imperial merchant position like something to be feared. But now that things are changing, now that they see us making our move, they suddenly want in too. It’s nothing but a fit of last-minute opportunism on their part—what preparation do they actually have? We’re different. We’ve been preparing for this for years already, and now we can finally tell everyone!”
“Just tell them exactly that—how the Xue family stands, how the Wu family stands, how we stand. We can’t show our full hand just yet, but we can certainly say this much—let everyone know we came prepared, let the officials at the Weaving Bureau know we’re the ones who are truly ready, the best prepared of all. We already have a method for improving the looms, one that can boost efficiency significantly, guaranteed not to disrupt our existing business or our imperial merchant obligations. We have the finest cloth there is… oh, and this next part still needs to stay confidential among everyone here, but I think it’s time to show you all. Juan’er, bring over the box.”
The young maid Juan’er, standing attendant nearby, nodded and turned to carry over a box, setting it on the table. Ning Yi rested a hand on it. “Let me repeat—what you’re about to see stays confidential… though of course, everyone here is family, part of the Su household, and understands this better than I do. Ha, no need for me to even say it…”
Having said this, he smiled and slowly opened the rectangular box, revealing a bolt of bright imperial-yellow silk before the assembled group. As several of them frowned in astonishment, Ning Yi gave it a confident push forward, then picked up a knife and, somewhat clumsily, cut off a section.
The rain kept falling, the door to the room now closed. Ning Yi’s voice carried out from inside in waves.
“Fire-resistant… washable… sun-fast… doesn’t fade… we finished the finished product just two months ago… originally wanted to keep it low-key, but given the current situation, I don’t think we have a choice anymore… make this happen, and every problem gets solved… who else has cloth this good? This color… there’s no need to panic. With a color like this, who else could the imperial merchant position go to but us? I may be a scholar, but I know this is a sure thing—we’re not the ones who need to beg those officials, they’re the ones who’ll come begging us… oh, don’t repeat that last part, but in the end… we benefit, and they benefit too, and honestly their benefit is even bigger than ours, plain as day… all right, over the next month, I’ll be working with all of you to see this through…”
The rain kept falling. In her bedroom, Su Tan’er gazed out at the rain, toward the direction of the room next door, as if she could hear something—but of course all that reached her was the sound of the rain itself. Xiao Chan came into the room and sat by the bed, chatting idly with her, before finally saying, “I wonder what husband looks like right now…”
“Sister Xing’er came by earlier and said Young Master’s giving quite a speech—very impressive. Those managers all seemed completely won over by what he was saying. Mm, and Young Master’s points did make sense…”
“Mm, is that so…” Su Tan’er laughed, imagining what those “sensible points” might actually sound like. Before long, the discussion next door wrapped up, and the scattered sound of the managers leaving drifted over—of course, only footsteps and the shuffle of departure. Had she been able to step outside then, she might have caught some of the managers’ murmured comments in the rain.
“That really was the view of a scholar, through and through…”
“Some of it did make sense, though…”
“It’s not nearly that simple.”
“Still… that cloth really was something…”
“Can’t be helped—with the old master and the second young lady both down, someone has to step up, and it might as well be Young Master. As long as he doesn’t go around meddling too much on his own, there shouldn’t be any real trouble…”
“Young Master’s a clever man, he understands some things well enough…”
“But at the end of the day he’s just a scholar—business matters are far too complicated for that…”
Such murmurs gradually faded, dissolving into the rain. Ning Yi returned to the small building upstairs, clapped his hands together, and watched from the window as the departing figures vanished into the rain-soaked night, before turning to go downstairs to check on Su Tan’er, still recovering.
Another day passed, and as Su Tan’er’s fever gradually broke, Ning Yi began stepping into her old role, driving out of the estate by carriage every day, mimicking her former daily routine, taking on the posture of an earnest, eager young upstart, and began “meddling” his way through the Su family business…