“The matter with the Siqing Workshop has been settled with Manager Yu on their end—we can deliver goods by the sixth of October, and after that there shouldn’t be any issues. I had a thought…”
In the rain-drenched courtyard of the Su household, water fell like a curtain from the eaves. In the reception room, lit by oil lamps, Xi Junyu was updating Su Tan’er on business progress. Xing’er came in with a handkerchief for him to wipe off the rain, and a moment later Juan’er brought in a tea tray, setting a plate of tea snacks on the small table beside him.
“Manager Xi, please have some tea.”
“My thanks, Juan’er.” Xi Junyu smiled and nodded, then continued discussing business with Su Tan’er. “Now that things have gotten off the ground at Siqing Workshop, I’m thinking we could invest roughly another ten thousand taels in Yuanzhou, building two dyeing workshops and warehouses there. That way, using Yuanzhou as a hub to expand into the surrounding area, we’d have things well in hand…”
Having finished, he waited for Su Tan’er’s response. This was the usual pattern for expanding the Su family business, but this time Su Tan’er took a sip of tea, looked up at him, and answered in a somewhat lowered voice: “As for Yuanzhou—the timing may be right, but it’s not the most urgent matter right now. Let’s… revisit it later.”
Su Tan’er’s voice was gentle, and this kind of answer wasn’t unexpected to him—only her gaze was hard to read. When he’d first come to know Su Tan’er, she’d been just a twelve-year-old girl, but ever since she began involving herself in the family business, over these past years this girl who had gradually grown into a young woman—now nominally a married one—had always had a side to her that he found difficult to fully grasp.
Of course, that was only a faint impression. For the most part, he was confident he understood her character well, including the pressures she carried, and the effort she put in under that pressure.
Years earlier, roughly from when Su Tan’er was fourteen going on fifteen, she’d started working alongside him and the other managers, discussing various business strategies together. The girl occasionally came up with startling ideas, but more often her suggestions were somewhat clumsy, mostly unusable, and when pointed out, she’d smile awkwardly and say in surprise, “Oh, so that’s how it is…”
She had a soft, modest temperament, gentle with everyone, never losing her temper no matter what. When servants made mistakes she didn’t get angry, and when others gossiped about her simply for being a woman, she didn’t take offense either. Of course, there were times she didn’t know how to respond—after all, she was still just a girl in her teens. At those times she’d fall silent, a smile on her face, lips pressed tightly together, waiting it out in silence.
Human emotions were strange things, without any clear dividing line. Xi Junyu himself couldn’t say exactly when he’d decided to stay on at the Su family’s textile business. As a child, Xi Junyu’s family had been poor—his mother died young, his father was sickly and a drunkard besides. He’d been gifted from a young age and had once assumed that continuing his studies would lead him to a good future. He’d only taken up work at the textile shop to earn some extra money to help with household expenses—yet somehow he’d just kept at it ever since.
Clever people are quick at whatever they turn their hand to. Xi Junyu was a man confident he could excel at anything—not just business. Having done business for a long time, one gradually comes to understand human nature and the human heart; in his view, everything in the world came down to the shifting of these things, and book learning was, by comparison, secondary.
Even during his time doing odd jobs at the Su family’s textile shop, he’d helped close several deals, earning enough to ease his family’s finances considerably. Back then he’d still meant to return to his studies eventually. Later… how much of his staying on with the Su family had to do with that girl who kept coming by the shop was hard to say, but it was certainly a large part of the reason.
He’d thought it through clearly enough, really. His family was poor; pursuing the imperial examinations properly would have been troublesome—just the gifts and connections required were beyond what they could afford. And the feeling of having money was, frankly, quite practical. Back then he’d more or less mapped out an ideal path for himself: work for the Su family, rise to manager, then head manager, then marry into the Su family as a matrilocal son-in-law, and once Su Tan’er took control of the family business, he’d share power with her as an equal.
By then he’d already begun to distinguish himself at the shop, and he worked in remarkably close sync with that ever-learning fifteen-year-old girl—whenever Su Tan’er made some blunder, he was able to smooth it over in time. Once he learned of Su Boyong and Su Tan’er’s intentions, he understood that one day Su Tan’er would need a husband willing to marry into the family, and he was clearly the ideal candidate—he himself had no objection to such an arrangement.
Incompetent men are always hoping for status or some inborn advantage—not that such things don’t matter—but a truly capable man knows that his own ability accounts for the greater part of his position. As for himself, he was confident that wherever he ended up, he’d find opportunities to distinguish himself, opportunities that would earn him recognition. His humble origins were something he could never change, so marrying in as a matrilocal son-in-law wasn’t something he found unacceptable at all.
Su Tan’er would come to understand his abilities, and he understood her temperament; with that kind of rapport, after marriage the two of them would make ideal partners. Some people might, at first, make an issue of his status as a matrilocal husband, but that was fine—once his abilities showed themselves, others would naturally come to see him in a new light. A year, two years… facts would change everything. Su Tan’er, too, carried her own burdens, and gritted her teeth and pushed forward regardless—so what was there that he couldn’t manage?
It was only a pity that things later developed in a way he hadn’t expected. The Su family had surely considered him.
They must have considered him. But in the end, it was the old patriarch who made the final call, and astonishingly, he chose that incompetent scholar instead.
The Su family… had chosen him simply because he’d be easier to control.
Sometimes being too capable becomes a flaw in itself, he’d thought bitterly at the time. And he’d also thought—if he’d been the one arranged to marry her, Tan’er certainly wouldn’t have found some excuse to run off on her wedding day.
He’d been quite confident at the time, certain that even as the Su family weighed this Ning Yi as a candidate, there wasn’t much to worry about. When they suddenly settled on Ning Yi instead, he’d felt truly stunned. He’d once considered going directly to Su Tan’er and confessing his feelings, but by then he’d realized the distance this girl kept from everyone around her. Perhaps she had once called him “Brother Junyu,” but not long after that it became “Manager Xi,” and it had stayed that way ever since.
She might be gentle and soft-spoken, lively and endearing, even playful and witty, but more often than not, this girl always kept part of her mind standing apart, observing from the sidelines—a part that might still find things amusing, curious, that would laugh charmingly while watching, and yet… always maintained that stance of observation and study. Clever people, once they set their minds to something, learn anything remarkably fast—this too Xi Junyu had known from early on.
It was only then that he realized his feelings had become hard to voice, because she hadn’t been nearly as close to him as he’d imagined.
He too was a proud man by nature. If he’d gone to her and spoken up, the girl on the surface might have responded with utmost warmth, utmost gentleness, even utmost sorrow—but the part of her truly watching from the sidelines would never have taken him seriously at all, and that was a result he couldn’t bear.
Later, after marrying, Su Tan’er had taken on the bearing of a proper wife, which was exactly what he’d expected. Status had always been the primary reason behind her marriage in the first place. He had no idea how things were between her and that scholar in private—Su Tan’er would never let her true feelings show on the surface—but that scholar surely couldn’t see what truly lay in his wife’s heart.
Thinking of it now, he found it amusing, and pitiable too—they hadn’t even shared a bed. Later developments had surprised him somewhat; that scholar did seem to have some genuine talent in scholarship after all. But regardless, the two of them were clearly a couple in appearance only, not in spirit—no one but himself could truly understand Su Tan’er. That heart she kept hidden away was a clarity forced out of her by long-standing pressure and isolation, with no other choice.
Wanting to take charge of the Su family as a woman would always meet resistance; even tears wouldn’t earn real sympathy. Even the managers under her, however much Su Boyong instructed them to help her, would still, in every business dealing, factor in the fact that their head was a woman. No matter how much she proved her own ability, even at forty-five or fifty, even if she became a figure like Wu Zetian, people would still see her as a woman first. She could only maintain, behind all that, an absolute clarity of mind.
It was, in a way, cold, lonely, pitiable to consider. She needed someone who could truly stand beside her through hardship, through thick and thin. Xi Junyu liked that feeling—for now, all he could do was accept and embrace things as they stood. What was done was done; complaining served no purpose. Better to think about what could still be done.
Sometimes he felt the figure deep within Su Tan’er’s heart was hard to make out clearly; she too was still growing and changing. But in any case, in some sense Su Tan’er was almost a product of his own teaching, and for these next few years at least, things wouldn’t spiral too far out of control.
As for the Yuanzhou matter, Su Tan’er had already made her decision, and being only “manager” in title, there was nothing more for him to say. When necessary, the two of them could converse easily enough on other things. Xi Junyu now spoke of a few amusing anecdotes he’d heard while chatting with Manager Yu of Siqing Workshop, then moved on to analyzing, in light of the recent refugee situation, what might happen both inside and outside the city. He knew well what Su Tan’er liked to hear about; she held her teacup, clearly absorbed, nodding occasionally and asking follow-up questions, that same girlish curiosity unchanged after all these years. In an age when information traveled slowly, much of what he told her was genuinely useful and things she hadn’t known before.
He also mentioned, in passing, the matter of Xiao Chan’s father’s funeral, and roughly when Ning Yi might be back—bringing it up only briefly, just enough to remind her subtly of his own presence, of how he differed from Ning Yi. Though it seemed some of what he said hadn’t quite reached her heart, tonight perhaps they could talk a while longer—Ning Yi would be back tomorrow, and he had some thoughts today he was considering whether to voice outright.
It was at this moment that Xing’er came trotting in from the courtyard under an umbrella, looking rather pleased, nodding and smiling at Xi Junyu before running up to Su Tan’er. “Young Master and Xiao Chan and the others are back.”
“Really?” Juan’er, standing behind Su Tan’er, spoke first. Su Tan’er looked up too, a smile spreading across her face even as she frowned. “Such heavy rain, and coming back this late? Did they get caught in it?”
“No, they didn’t. Oh, but Dongzhu who was driving got soaked. Young Master had him go bathe first, then told the kitchen to prepare some food—they must not have eaten well on the road.”
“Mm.” Su Tan’er thought for a moment. “Xing’er, go have the kitchen prepare some of Young Master’s favorite dishes, and a bowl of millet porridge too—I’m a bit hungry myself, I’ll come by in a bit… also prepare some chilled white fungus soup, mainly for Bodyguard Geng and Dongzhu to cool off with tonight after they eat, since they don’t usually get it. You and Juan’er can have some too if you like—I don’t need any. Young Master and Xiao Chan probably won’t want much of it after dinner either… ah, would Manager Xi like some?”
“No need for me. Since Master Ning and Xiao Chan and the others are back, I have nothing pressing left, so I’ll take my leave now.”
Xi Junyu smiled easily, unruffled. Su Tan’er nodded as well.
“In that case, let me see you out.”
“No need—the rain’s heavy.”
“It’s fine, and besides, I’d like to hear a bit more of what Manager Xi was just saying about the Yuanzhou plan.”
As if you really wanted to hear it… Xi Junyu thought to himself with amusement, but as he opened his umbrella and walked out alongside Su Tan’er and Juan’er, he nonetheless laid out the whole series of plans and ideas—covering everything from the local customs of Yuanzhou to various connections and official details, all quite thoroughly. Su Tan’er listened along, nodding.
The rain roared on. Walking along these paths, at times all that could be seen was the faint glow of distant courtyards; it felt as though, in this vast Su family estate, only the three of them were walking through the rain. Only as they neared the side gate could they see people still hurrying in and out, every one of them in a rush; his attendant was waiting there in the gatehouse. As they reached a stretch of covered corridor where they no longer needed the umbrella, Xi Junyu took a deep breath.
“Actually, over this past year or so, though the Su family’s business seems to have carried on as usual, funds have been diverted and held back in various places—all of this I’m well aware of. You’ve already been making preparations. This matter is simply too large; since you didn’t want to speak of it, I shouldn’t have brought it up either. But… it truly is too large. If it all comes to nothing, have you thought through what that would mean?”
Su Tan’er stopped walking, looked at him quietly for a moment, pressed her lips together lightly, and said nothing. There was something complicated in her gaze, as if to say she was sorry she couldn’t discuss this with him—after all, she was the one who had to oversee everything as a whole… Xi Junyu didn’t mind that. He only shook his head and sighed.
“I don’t know when exactly you first had this idea—perhaps you’d already been thinking of it years ago… You want to secure the palace license. You want to become an imperial merchant. That’s… right, isn’t it?”
He looked at Su Tan’er, pausing briefly.
“A few years back it might still have been manageable, but starting last year, the Xue family has already been eyeing the imperial merchant position too, and the Wu family may well be considering it as well. Your plan is now up against the worst possible timing. Do you know all of this?”
In the rainy night, this was about as stern a warning as he could give. Xi Junyu’s concerns were not without cause…