Chapter 281: First Show of Fangs

Chapter 281: First Show of Fangs

The incident between San Ya Chen and Dihuang Qiu came to an end.

There weren’t many people in the workshop that night. The neighboring quarters heard the commotion. Those who liked to watch the spectacle poked their heads out and happened to witness Director Zhong, who struck fear into many, striding past with Qiu Dihuang, an apprentice from Liu’s shop, in a fierce manner.

Instructor Zhong’s eyes were sharp. Noticing heads behind the walls, he casually pulled out the hidden heads.

He gave the head a smile first, then put on a stern face, "Out of your room at night, do you also want to fight with your roommate in bed?"

Head: ?

Director Zhong casually defined the passion between San Ya Chen and Qiu Dihuang as a fight—which wasn’t wrong, a hand-to-hand combat, with both flesh and struggle, very precise.

After this incident, San Ya Chen was quite down for a while. Waiting for seven or eight days and seeing that there was indeed no summons from Madam Qu, his eyes towards Xianjin showed more curiosity and gratitude.

Xianjin rushed past San Ya Chen.

San Ya Chen called out to Xianjin, his face red. "...Let’s get along well in the future, and if it really..."

If you really fall into my grandmother’s trap and end up as my concubine.

"...I’ll treat you well. I won’t interfere with any of your actions, as long as you don’t bring men back to the bedroom," San Ya Chen muttered in a low voice, thinking, if you do bring them back, we can discuss and improve together.

Xianjin slowly raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Li Sanshun slapped San Ya Chen on the back of his head accurately, "Paper pulp rubbing! You think holding onto Xianjin allows you to slack off?! Get back to work!"

San Ya Chen cried and turned back to his manual labor.

Xianjin frowned and shook her head. You may be delicate, but under me, you have to work like eight muscular men—capitalists won’t empathize with your orientation!

In mid to late July, the weather became hotter by the day. The weather in Xuancheng was unpredictable, like a toddler’s mood, changing from tears to laughter. The two processes of water extraction and wall drying for Eight-Zhang Xuan paper were highly dependent on the weather. If it rained for several days in a row, the moisture rising from the ground would make the Xuan paper moist, which was not conducive to ink presentation.

Therefore, taking advantage of the clear weather, the Jixi workshop worked day and night.

The failure rate of Eight-Zhang Xuan was too high. Producing 120 sheets over two days and three nights was considered normal. By the deadline of the second phase on the first day of August, they could submit five rolls of paper.

Although it was just five ordinary rolls of paper, it was still a decent achievement.

There was still a long way to go to meet the requirement of 100 rolls of tribute paper, but it was sufficient to meet the sample submission requirement for the second phase.

Li Sanshun led everyone in the workshop to work hard.

Meanwhile, Xianjin was not idle either. She met with Chen Fu and went back to Jing County to pay respects and burn incense for her mother, He Ainiang. Along the way, she also stopped by Xi River Town’s Zhang Hecun to have a bowl of vegetarian flat noodles that Chen Fu had recommended for a long time.

After finishing everything, Xianjin convened a short meeting of the Xuancheng Chamber of Commerce midway. The central idea was to inform everyone of the progress of the Eight-Zhang Xuan and that in ten days, they would submit the five rolls of sample tribute paper to Yingtian Prefecture, which would then be forwarded to North Zhili, and eventually to the Ministry of Rites for decision.

Generally speaking, the final tribute papers would be revealed at this stage.

After all, the third phase required the decision of the Minister of Internal Affairs, which meant it would go to the Cabinet—honestly, since the founding of the Great Wei dynasty, the decision-making process for imperial tributes had never entered the third phase.

Who do you think you are, a shameless big yellow leek? That’s the Chief Minister of the Cabinet!

What fruits and nuts can enter the office of the Cabinet’s Chief Minister? The Minister of Internal Affairs has better things to do than to evaluate whether your lychees are sweet enough, your plums a bit soft, or your ink sticky enough...

Then it shouldn’t be called the Cabinet.

It should be called Cabinet Selection.

Life and death hang in the balance, just ten days away.

Everyone was mentally prepared, with a mindset of all or nothing, with a tense atmosphere of soldiers advancing, and listened to Xianjin’s instructions:

"Hengxi, assign five more workers to the baking wall task. It’s too hot, so increase the rotation frequency; otherwise, the workers might suffer from heatstroke."

"Uncle Bai, can you still obtain the kiwi vine sap? Bring two more barrels."

"Uncle Liu, your workers are performing well. That Qiu... Qiu Dihuang? He’s strong and capable, a promising talent."

Xianjin’s gaze shifted downwards to the illiterate but strong-minded shopkeeper. "Uncle Qiang, the food you delivered was delicious, but there wasn’t enough meat. Please go to Steward Zhong after the meeting to draw thirty taels of silver. We must ensure there’s enough meat and fat."

After addressing everyone, Xianjin straightened her back, her expression serious. "Xuancheng hasn’t been selected for the imperial paper for over ten years. Today, twenty-two paper workshops in Xuancheng, with seventy master craftsmen and 2,738 taels of silver invested over three months, have come together to bring the Eight-Zhang Xuan Paper back to life."

The merchants straightened their backs in unison.

"No one can be sure if the Eight-Zhang Xuan Paper will be selected, but I, He Xianjin, am putting this out there: if it is selected, everyone here will share in the rewards. If it isn’t, as long as the Xuancheng Chamber of Commerce reaches the third round, I, He Xianjin, will fight with my life to ensure we get the imperial paper plaque!"

Xianjin’s voice rose, inspiring everyone to clap until their hands turned red.

Hengxi stood next to her father, Heng Lian. As the applause began to fade, Heng Lian remembered to raise his hands to clap.

Xianjin glanced at him and pursed her lips.

...

On July 29th, in the blazing sun, Master Qiao set off on a long journey to the capital, leaving Qiao Baozhu behind. "This trip to the capital is unavoidable."

Master Qiao handed Xianjin a calling card. "Currently, the position of Yingtian Prefecture Magistrate is vacant. Vice Prefect Wen is like a sheep, harmless but distant; Vice Prefect Cao is like a pig, greedy and destined to be slaughtered. Neither is good. The only decent one left is Prefectural Magistrate Wang. If you encounter something even old Xiong can’t handle, go to him. Show him this calling card, and he will help you no matter the cost."

Xianjin accepted the calling card, recalling Qiao Hui’s words about the unstable situation in the capital, and felt a bit anxious. "You must take good care of yourself on this trip."

Master Qiao waved his hand. "I hope I can keep the two taels of flesh Prefect Wang has helped me grow!"

Xianjin didn’t know what prompted Qiao Fangzhi, who had been living in seclusion for most of his life, to travel to the capital at this critical moment, but if Master Qiao decided to go, he must have had his reasons.

Around noon, after seeing off Master Qiao, Xianjin had lunch with Baozhu and then led Li Sanshun to pack and prepare five bundles of Eight-Zhang Xuan Paper, load them onto a mule cart, and prepare to send them to Prefectural Magistrate Xiong.

"Sanlang can go instead."

At the doorway, Madam Qu’s voice sounded.

Behind Madam Qu were hiding Chen Sanlang and Sun Shi, followed by five or six sturdy women.

At Madam Qu’s signal, the women quickly split into two groups, one covering Xianjin’s mouth, two holding her arms, and two more grabbing her wrists. They swiftly dragged Xianjin into the inner courtyard.