Chapter 206: Running Rampant (4)

Chapter 206: Running Rampant (4)

By the time Luan Yuqiao had recovered from his illness, large quantities of greige cloth had already been streaming into Tongzhou nonstop.

He'd been bedridden so long his bones ached, and he couldn't stand it anymore, so he leaned on his young servant's arm and went out for a stroll.

Wouldn't you know it, he overheard a servant who had just returned from an errand outside shooting the breeze with his family.

The Luan family had built their fortune on cloth trading, so naturally, the servants were talking shop about cloth.

"Just got back from outside? How much has the cloth price dropped?"

"Dropped another 200 wen this afternoon. At first, people were still buying, but now that they've read the market, everyone's holding off, waiting for it to drop further."

"Damn, that's messed up!"

"Tell me about it." The servant took off his conical hat, sucking his teeth and clucking his tongue. "Quite a few wholesale cloth merchants are camped out in front of our shop, saying our master promised to buy cloth at top dollar, but when the cloth arrived, he refused to accept it—that he was just jerking them around, and they're cursing our ancestors' graves. Quite a few of those demanding an explanation have come to our house before and I've run into them. Good thing I'm sharp—I saw the writing on the wall and hightailed it out of there before anyone could recognize me. If they had, I'd have been a dead man!"

The listener let out a startled "Aiyo!" "Then what if they come raising hell at the house?"

"Who knows." That servant was easygoing and said without a care, "We never signed any deal with them. If they raise a stink at the shop, fine, but if they come to the house, we can call the cops!"

Hearing this conversation, a wad of black blood stuck in Luan Yuqiao's throat.

Spreading word of his high-price cloth buying? Luan Yuqiao would have to be out of his mind to shout that from the rooftops!

Chasing profit is the nature of merchants—it always has been.

In scheming against Qi Hongzhuang this time, he'd leaned on the connections he'd painstakingly built up over the years, tipping off nearly all the big wholesale cloth merchants in Tongzhou, greasing their palms with generous gifts to fill the big fish's bellies first, then having them tell their underlings to quietly buy up cloth without asking questions.

To keep all the money for themselves, they'd naturally keep their lips sealed without Luan Yuqiao having to say a word, lest others come to grab a slice of their pie.

Using his connections, he'd managed to choke off all of Qi Hongzhuang's sources of greige cloth.

Tongzhou and the surrounding areas had a particularly thriving textile industry, and greige cloth was already cheap to begin with. Luan Yuqiao had offered five qian per bolt because he'd done the math on Qi Hongzhuang's costs.

If the purchase price of greige cloth went above five qian, the more she sold, the more she'd bleed money.

Who'd have thought that woman was so vicious—she actually blabbed it everywhere, even into neighboring prefectures!

After all, Luan Yuqiao had handled this himself, so the cloth merchants only needed to ask around and they'd find out that "Jade Bridge Brand" really was secretly buying cloth at top dollar.

How could anyone else know his game plan?

If there was money to be made, why not let everyone get a piece?

Luan Yuqiao leaned on his servant, his heart going cold.

Before the new year, that Wen Ren Ming Ke had sucked up to Feng Long and gotten the commercial taxes cut.

Those cloth merchants from prefectures bordering Tongzhou, upon hearing the news of his cloth purchases, did the math and figured that even after shipping costs across prefectures, if they knocked off one qian and sold at four, they'd still turn a profit—so they happily came to get in on the action.

But if the cloth didn't sell in Tongzhou and they had to haul it back, they wouldn't even break even!

This was a mirror of the time he'd secretly schemed against Qi Hongzhuang, and it made Luan Yuqiao's blood boil and his whole body shake.

Only four words circled in his mind like a curse: "what goes around comes around."

After his stroll, he'd worked himself into a total mess—head throbbing, eyes aching.

Just before he passed out, Luan Yuqiao grabbed his servant's arm and rasped: "That guard who personally saw Wen Ren Yue open the storehouse... the one called Xiao Chun—fetch him, fetch him..."

...

Two days later, Qi Hongzhuang once again visited the Tongzhou government office.

She didn't give those cloth merchants too hard a time.

At 180 wen a bolt, she bought up everything they brought.

The cloth was inspected at the front door, then immediately sent to the dyeing workshop out back.

Lately, the dyers had been working in shifts, eating well with fish and meat every day, and getting plenty of rest. Now that the cloth had arrived, everyone pitched in with gusto.

Everything quickly returned to normal.

Qi Hongzhuang had come in person to deliver the cloth Yuan Zijin's mother had asked for.

Ever since joining the garrison soldiers, Yuan Zijin had easily discovered the advantage of his great strength when compared with others.

Among the noble young masters of the capital, the skills that were presentable and worth showing off were always elegant pursuits like poetry, calligraphy, pitch-pot, and archery.

Yuan Zijin was utterly unskilled in such things, and "great strength" was hardly something impressive among young gentlemen.

After all, they were all of that class—no one's family lacked for laborers.

Back then, Yuan Zijin appeared arrogant and domineering, but there was a certain bluster to it—all bark and no bite.

Now, his tail was perpetually raised high, especially after sensing that Le Wuya thought rather highly of him. He immediately grew bolder, wishing he could strut sideways before him.

However, in the presence of a woman, he quickly resumed his refined and modest demeanor, accepting the gift with both hands: "Thank you, County Princess."

"We are not strangers to each other; there's no need for such formality." Qi Hongzhuang was quite calm. "I have also had dealings with your mother. When she held her fortieth birthday banquet, I attended. You were there as well."

Yuan Zijin didn't remember at all, but with Qi Hongzhuang's mention, he recalled that the person before him was not only the County Princess of Tonglu, but also... the widow of that man.

Yuan Zijin cast several pitying glances at Qi Hongzhuang, never mentioning the matter, and after chatting with her for a while longer, a young soldier came looking for him, telling him to return to the training ground. Only then did he leave, clutching the cloth with a heavy heart.

As soon as he stepped out, he ran into Le Wuya, who had just finished a temporary official matter and was hurrying over.

Le Wuya casually struck up a conversation: "How long has County Princess Qi been here?"

"About the time it takes to burn one and a half sticks of incense." After answering, Yuan Zijin couldn't help but feel indignant on her behalf. "She's such a fine woman—upright and capable, doing business so brilliantly. How did she end up married to someone like that?"

However, he didn't expect an answer from Le Wuya; it was just a passing remark.

The Wen Ren Yue before him was the son of a merchant from Jiangnan, who had probably never even been to the capital twice in his life.

That troublemaker who had stirred up storms in the capital in days past had no connection to him whatsoever. Even if you told him, he probably wouldn't understand.

As he was lost in thought, Yuan Zijin suddenly felt a pain in his rear, and then his whole body lurched forward, nearly flying down the steps like a cloud and landing flat on his face.

Yuan Zijin immediately became furious: "Are you a donkey? Why did you kick me?!"

He was baffled, but Le Wuya was even more baffled than he was: "I kicked you?"

Given Le Wuya's lightning-fast reactions and his utterly innocent, guileless expression, Yuan Zijin's memory suddenly became muddled.

Holding several bolts of "Tonglu Snow" in one hand and rubbing his rear with the other, he remembered the young soldier who had come looking for him earlier. Afraid of delaying important matters, he stopped making a fuss and hurried away.

Later, when Yuan Zijin returned to the training ground, a soldier pointed out that there was a clear boot print stamped on the back of his robe.

Yuan Zijin was so mad he hopped around fuming for half the day.

But that's a story for another time—skip it.

Le Wuya entered the flower hall, glanced around, and seeing no outsiders, casually wandered over to unwrap the pastries Qi Hongzhuang had brought. He picked out his favorite flavors while asking, "So, County Princess, you and Yuan Zijin go way back?"

"He doesn't even remember me," Qi Hongzhuang said coolly. "That day, because he was being mischievous, running around and nearly knocking over Lady Yuan's birthday peach cake, the Dragon Tiger General made him do a handstand as punishment."

Le Wuya thought for a moment and said "oh" to himself.

Oh, that time.

He had gone with Qi Hongzhuang and saw a young lad with his back to them, struggling to hold a handstand in the garden, sweat pouring off his head.

Though there was a wall just a few steps behind him, he didn't use it to rest, just held himself perfectly straight upside down.

Le Wuya had offhandedly praised him then, saying that while he wasn't clever, he did have some stubborn brute strength.

Back then, they were from different generations and age groups, and they didn't sit together at banquets, so they knew of each other but had never met.

Funny how fate works.

Le Wuya took a bite of the pastry and found it filled with a sweet-and-sour hawthorn filling, which made him squint his eyes in satisfaction.

Qi Hongzhuang noticed that familiar little habit of his and asked calmly, "Any urgent government business?"

Le Wuya said, "Someone went to the Luan residence to cause trouble, threw shit on their door. Their steward came to lodge a complaint."

"How will you handle it?"

"Arrest the troublemakers, obviously," Le Wuya said. "But arresting them won't help much. The guy behind this knows he never signed a contract with the Luan family. He came for profit, and when he didn't get his cut, he latched onto Luan Yuqiao. He's got no leg to stand on anywhere, but he can't stand losing, so he hired a thug to mess with Luan Yuqiao."

"I heard Luan Yuqiao left town to recover?"

"That's a load of bull. He never left the city; he's holed up at home."

With that, he gave a sly smile: "...Just like when you went to see him back then, and he pretended he wasn't home."

Qi Hongzhuang squinted at him.

Living under the same roof with Le Wuya day after day, she had picked up his habit of squinting when she was concentrating on something.

"Leaking the word that Luan Yuqiao was buying cloth at high prices—that was done by Prefect Wenren's people, wasn't it?"

Le Wuya didn't even blush, and countered, "And knocking holes in warehouse roofs—that was done by County Princess Qi's people, wasn't it?"

Qi Hongzhuang let out a quick, soft laugh.

These sneaky, underhanded tricks were one of the few things Le Wuya had taught her.

Now that the immediate crisis was over and Luan Yuqiao's scheme was busted, all that was left was the cleanup.

Qi Hongzhuang reminded him, "Watch out—they might get desperate and do something rash."

Le Wuya shrugged it off: "I'm waiting for them to make a move. If they don't, I've got no show to put on."

Qi Hongzhuang glanced at him: "I heard that when Prefect Wenren was in Nanting, he was so ostentatious that he drew an assassin and got stabbed. What kind of show is that? Zhou Yu beating Huang Gai?"

Le Wuya: "..."

He tried to deny it: "Knife? Show? Never heard of it. Who's been filling your head with that?"

Qi Hongzhuang leaned back in the armchair, all calm and collected: "I told you before, didn't I? Before you came to Tongzhou, someone wrote to me, telling me many things, asking me to back you up and to look after you, to keep you from doing anything stupid."

...Xiaoliu?

Le Wuya unconsciously raised his hand, rubbing the jade chess piece through his clothes, warmed by his body heat:

You little rat, Xiang Xiaoliu, selling me out like that!

As Le Wuya gritted his teeth, he heard Qi Hongzhuang continue: "But he writes to me often, so I'm used to it. He's grown up and steady now, but in his youth, he was flat-out crazy. I've long stopped being surprised."

...Crazy?

Who?

Xiaoliu?

"Speaking of which, when I dealt with Prefect Wenren, it was always about official matters. I never had time to shoot the breeze like this," Qi Hongzhuang said, looking at the puzzled Le Wuya with composure. "Let me be direct. My late husband's two disciples both are a few screws loose."

Qi Hongzhuang didn't really hate Xiang Zhi.

He just had a sweet face that didn't match what was inside—squeeze him a little, and all that comes out is venom.

But the venom's pretty weak, nothing to worry about.

And he's easy to rile up, which is good for a laugh.

In comparison, her feelings about Xiang Zhi Jie were way more complicated.

She and Le Wuya had been married for years, and letters kept arriving at the Le residence from time to time, addressed to her.

The sender didn't play games; from the very first letter, he was upfront about who he was:

He was the Sixth Prince, Xiang Zhi Jie, who had once been Le Wuya's student.

The letters were simple—just short notes about Le Wuya's daily life.

"Second day of the second month. Master went to court and coughed five times. It's the transition from winter to spring; please, Master's wife, brew some pear soup for Master."

"Tenth day of the third month. Master indulged in three pieces of tihu cake and will inevitably suffer stomach bloating. Please, Master's wife, take care of him."

"First day of the fourth month. Last night, watching the stars, I knew a cold snap was coming. Master loves thin, fine clothes and may catch a chill. I earnestly beg Master's wife to keep a close eye on him and make sure he bundles up to stay healthy."

At first, Qi Hongzhuang didn't think much of it.

She had met Xiang Zhi Jie and, judging by his appearance, figured he was a sweet, gentle kid whose earnest concern was purely out of genuine respect for his teacher.

But she had been married to Le Wuya for several years, and he had sent letters without fail for just as long.

Two hundred eighty-two letters, total.

Only an idiot wouldn't realize this guy was nuts.

Qi Hongzhuang never brought it up with Le Wuya.

She had married into the Le household solely because the emperor commanded it.

Having been involuntarily dragged into the royal power struggles, she was already vexed enough and had no desire to wade into further whirlpools. She simply played dumb, pretending not to notice the man's intentions.

It wasn't until that year—about a year before Le Wuya's death—that Imperial Consort Zhuang, who had always kept to herself, suddenly invited Qi Hongzhuang to Qingxi Palace for a talk.

Qi Hongzhuang, puzzled, headed over.

Qingxi Palace was utterly silent, with only the sound of wind rustling through the pines brushing against the eaves.

The moment she stepped into the courtyard, Qi Hongzhuang frowned slightly.

Zhi Jie knelt at the very center of the courtyard, dressed in plain Daoist robes. He looked like jade, his posture straight as a pine, his wide sleeves catching the wind, making him look like he might float away at any moment.

...She'd picked a bad time to show up.

Had she known Imperial Consort Zhuang was reprimanding her son, she would have arrived later.

The maid Dan Qiong stood in front of Zhi Jie, holding a vase of pure water in her left hand and a willow branch in her right.

When Dan Qiong saw Qi Hongzhuang arrive, her expression flickered for a moment before she composed herself and gave a graceful bow.

For some reason, Qi Hongzhuang sensed a flustered, hurried quality in her movements.

Just as Qi Hongzhuang was about to enter, a stern command rang out from inside the palace's open entrance: "Pay your respects!"

At this, Zhi Jie turned around on his knees and solemnly performed the disciple's salute: "Master's wife."

Qi Hongzhuang kept her face expressionless: ...? What was that about?

It startled her—she thought it was aimed at her.

What puzzled her even more was Imperial Consort Zhuang's attitude.

Though she had never spoken with Imperial Consort Zhuang, Qi Hongzhuang had glimpsed that otherworldly figure from afar at royal gatherings.

The palace attendants all said the consort was practically an immortal, having long forsaken the mortal world's affairs.

...But hearing such harsh reprimands, that so-called "forsaking the mortal world" seemed like a big stretch.

"I have brought her here." Imperial Consort Zhuang's voice was stern, carrying a chilling anger. "If you truly believe yourself to be righteous, then do not speak ill behind others' backs. Bring those wicked words out and say it to her face!"

Zhi Jie lifted his head and cast a quick glance at Qi Hongzhuang.

"Of all the classics, filial piety is foremost."

Though she didn't know what grave error Zhi Jie had committed, his attitude was extremely proper: "I have pondered this matter for years, going back and forth on it, yet never daring to be certain. Recently, I've made up my mind and found I can't change it. I dared not deceive my mother, so I came to report it. I'm sorry for making you angry, Mother—that's my fault."

Imperial Consort Zhuang said nothing.

But from within the palace came shallow, steady breathing, as if she were really worked up by Zhi Jie.

Zhi Jie turned to Qi Hongzhuang, who stood there looking cold and confused, and spoke earnestly: "Master's wife, I have something I wish to say to you. I hold Master in my heart; my feelings are like a river at full flood, rushing on and impossible to turn back."

Imperial Consort Zhuang seemed not to have anticipated that he'd dare voice such treasonous, covetous words about his master in front of his master's wife. She roared: "Dan Qiong, the blessed water!"

Dan Qiong dared not disobey. Eyes shut, hands trembling, she splashed the whole vase of water onto Zhi Jie's face.

Water carrying the smell of incense ash trickled slowly down his cheeks.

But it didn't deter him at all.

Zhi Jie licked his lips and said with a completely earnest, upright expression: "Master's wife, I'm willing to be the concubine."

"If you dislike that, I need no title—we could just have an affair, that's fine too. Once I have your permission, I'll bring it up with Master gradually. ...You know, Master's heart has always been soft."

Dan Qiong stood there with a vacant stare, as if she'd died on the spot.

Qi Hongzhuang was neither shocked nor angered. She raised an eyebrow: "Sixth Prince, your status is noble. Why stoop so low?"

"As you say, I am a prince. Heaven has favored me, and my status is already supreme. Why should I care about status or standing?"

"And if I refuse?"

Zhi Jie said solemnly: "Utmost sincerity can break through stone."

Under Le Wuya's tutelage, Qi Hongzhuang had studied and learned the rules of propriety.

She knew Zhi Jie's words sounded good.

Maybe it was her imagination, but Qi Hongzhuang felt the phrase carried deeper meaning—it didn't seem like he was sincerely trying to win her over.

...Rather, it seemed more like "there's no wall that can't be broken down."

Author's note:

Though Valentine's Day has passed, I'll still leave Xiang Xiaoliu here for you.

Xiang Xiaoliu—a man of excellent character but zero morals, a total lovesick fool.