The north wind poured in through the window, scattering the mist rising above the teacup. The man sitting opposite grew all the clearer in sight—his face refined and handsome, his pair of cool, sharp phoenix eyes so piercing that one dared not look directly at him.

“Master Zhao went through such trouble to meet this Marquis—only to say these things?”

The brocaded man understood that Xie Zheng must be referring to his earlier words of loyalty and devotion unto death. He wasn’t sure if mentioning his wife had touched some taboo, so he hurriedly said, “Naturally, not only that.”

He then presented a brocade box. Seeing that Xie Zheng had no intention of opening it himself, he took the initiative to lift the lid for him, the familiar smile of a merchant upon his face. “I wonder if this is sincere enough?”

Xie Zheng merely cast it a faint glance. “Yellow or white objects are of no use to me.”

The other man fell silent for a moment, then suddenly stood and gave a deep bow. “Zhao Xun is but a mere merchant, unworthy of entering Your Lordship’s eyes. But last Lantern Festival, my younger sister, upon first entering the capital, was seized by Wei Xuan at the festival and died tragically in his tent…”

His eyes turned red, nearly overflowing with tears and snot. “If I do not avenge this hatred, I will have no face to meet my parents in the underworld.”

Only then did Xie Zheng’s gaze truly fall upon Zhao Xun. “You were able to find this Marquis, and you also know that this Marquis has broken with the Wei father and son—that takes some ability.”

Zhao Xun quickly said he dared not claim such. “The Zhao family’s business—large or small—spans several provinces. We have dealings with the officials, so we hear more rumors than most. Since Wei Xuan took over Huizhou, many of Your Lordship’s senior officers have been demoted and sent to the frontier. Meanwhile, the literati under Wei Yan in the capital have been writing articles condemning Your Lordship in great numbers. That was when I began to sense something amiss.”

“I guessed Your Lordship had met with misfortune and ordered my men to secretly search for your whereabouts, but to no avail. Coincidentally, some days ago, the main city of Jizhou arrested a large number of refugees. Among them were officers from Huizhou carrying portraits, seemingly looking for someone. I used some means to obtain one of those portraits from the Huizhou soldiers. The man in the picture had heroic bearing, and I surmised the person they sought must be Your Lordship.”

At this point, Zhao Xun’s face lit up with joy. “Heaven must have taken pity on me. My family’s bookshop recently received a batch of essays, and the shopkeeper praised one of them as a true gem. When I read it, every word was exquisite. I thought it must have been written by some impoverished scholar and wished to make his acquaintance. That was why I came here personally—never did I expect it to be Your Lordship!”

Xie Zheng’s long, slender fingers continued to tap lightly on the small redwood table—tok, tok—a slow rhythm that made one’s heart tremble.

Zhao Xun’s earnest speech had explained clearly how he had found him.

When Xie Zheng wrote those essays, he had deliberately avoided using his own handwriting style. For Zhao Xun to have found him—it truly sounded like coincidence.

He did not speak for a long while. The other man, though somewhat uneasy, managed to maintain composure and kept silent.

He looked like a man who could get things done.

Xie Zheng half-lifted his eyelids and finally said, “Exchange the banknotes in that brocade box for two hundred thousand shi of grain before spring.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xun was first stunned, then his face brightened with joy. A moment ago, Xie Zheng had said that gold and silver were of no use to him; now he told him to exchange them for grain—this was pointing him toward the true path.

However, the court usually collected grain in autumn, and rice merchants also bought then, since it was harvest season—grain was plentiful and cheap.

Now it was the end of the twelfth lunar month. Peasants still held some surplus, so buying now would cost a few more li, but that was of little concern.

Yet the northwest was never a land rich in grain. To purchase two hundred thousand shi before spring, long before next year’s autumn harvest, was no small matter. If war broke out again in this region, the stationed armies would not be able to requisition local supplies.

Realizing this, Zhao Xun’s heart thumped wildly. He quickly clasped his hands and said, “Zhao Xun will not fail the Marquis’s trust!”

Seeing Xie Zheng dressed plainly, he thought to curry favor. “Might I prepare another residence for the Marquis and Madam, and hire some servants to attend upon you?”

Xie Zheng cast him a faint glance. Beneath that calm gaze was a weight of scrutiny and pressure that made Zhao Xun bend his already half-bowed body even lower.

He said, “Do not act on your own cleverness.”

Zhao Xun dared not mention the matter of the residence or servants again. Instead, he said more carefully, “Then… shall I send men to escort the Marquis home?”

When he had come here, he had personally gone to the west alley of the city to fetch him.

Xie Zheng recalled Fan Changyu, who had just passed by the street earlier with a gang of little hoodlums. His brows drew together slightly as he refused the other man: “No need.”

His pair of sharp, striking phoenix eyes swept over the richly dressed merchant before him. “Just focus on the task this Marquis has entrusted you with. Pretend you do not know I am here. If a word of this leaks out…”

Zhao Xun hurriedly replied that he would not dare. “Zhao came to Lin’an Town today only to meet a poor scholar of humble origin. Unfortunately, that scholar’s whereabouts were uncertain, and Zhao did not get to see him. As for the matter of buying grain—it is merely that Zhao noticed how well the rice merchants profit and wished to take a share of it, nothing more.”

The corners of Xie Zheng’s eyes lifted slightly.

Indeed, this was a clever man—he understood with just a hint.

He said, “You may go.”

Zhao Xun then bowed deeply and withdrew.

When the door closed again, Xie Zheng’s eyes slowly lowered amid the curling steam of boiling water on the red clay stove. The delicate contours of his face blurred behind the mist, leaving only a faint shadow of his brows and eyes—no longer languid as usual, but heavy with a subdued, blood-tinged ferocity.

This Zhao Xun’s appearance had been far too coincidental.

But what could be confirmed for now was that he was not one of the Wei father and son’s people—otherwise the ones who came would have been the officials, not someone feigning courtesy to express loyalty.

The two hundred thousand shi of grain was the touchstone he had set.

If this man could truly be used, with that much grain secured, his next arrangements would be far easier.

If the man harbored ulterior motives—then after that two hundred thousand shi of grain, there would be an even larger trap waiting for him and the master behind him.

From outside the private room came voices: “Come on, let’s go watch the fun! I heard Wang’s Braised Meats across the street got jealous of Fan’s business and smashed up Fan’s Butcher Shop! The people from Fan’s are over at Wang’s causing a scene!”

Someone sighed, “Wang’s is a century-old establishment—how could they stoop to something so disgraceful?”

“For the sake of business, what won’t people do?”

Xie Zheng broke off his thoughts, lifted his eyes, and rose to his feet. His legs moved as steadily as any ordinary man’s; it was only when he stepped out of the private room that he leaned on his cane once more.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Before Wang’s Braised Meats, a dense crowd had already gathered to watch the commotion.

The shop clerks inside looked at Fan Changyu, then glanced at the fierce-looking Jin Laosan and the others standing behind her with arms crossed. Their calves trembled, and their voices stuttered as they spoke: “Wh-what business do you all have here?”

Fan Changyu frowned at the sight of their pale faces. She hadn’t come to start a fight—she had come to demand an explanation. Why were these clerks so terrified?

Could it be that they had a guilty conscience?

She said, “Call out your shopkeeper. I’m here today to demand an explanation.”

The clerk stammered, “Th-the shopkeeper isn’t here.”

Fan Changyu’s brows arched sharply. “He dared to send people to smash things in my shop, but now he’s playing the turtle hiding in his shell?”

Behind her, Jin Laosan and his gang gave a heavy snort through their noses—“Hmph!”—which frightened the clerks even paler, faces turning the color of clay.

Fan Changyu turned to glance at Jin Laosan, the corner of her eye twitching. She had brought this group to confront the other side, yet it somehow looked like she had brought them to wreck the place.

The trembling clerk said, “We’ve already sent someone to notify the shopkeeper. Whatever the matter is, p-please wait until he arrives to discuss it.”

Then, still shaking, he fetched a taishi chair for Fan Changyu to sit, and even brought out a brazier for her to warm her hands.

Fan Changyu glanced around at the shop’s clerks and the crowd watching from outside. Something felt off—why did it look as though she were the troublemaking bully come to pick a fight?

Still, since they had brought out a chair and a brazier, and the weather was cold, there was no reason not to sit and wait by the fire.

Before long, the shopkeeper of Wang’s came hurrying over, dragging his plump body and sweating profusely. He was a businessman who had always valued harmony and profit. Upon seeing Fan Changyu, he immediately smiled apologetically.

“Miss Fan, I’ve already heard from my clerks about what happened at your shop. Wang’s signboard has been passed down from my ancestors—I, Wang, would never resort to such shameful methods to bully an orphaned young lady…”

He spoke as he cast a glance at Jin Laosan and the others standing behind Fan Changyu; his tone polite, but his manner somewhat contemptuous. “Miss Fan, merely on the say-so of these people you accuse my Wang’s—surely… there must be some misunderstanding?”

Fan Changyu sat unmoving in the taishi chair, only glancing once at Jin Laosan. “You speak.”

Jin Laosan immediately said, “There’s a clerk at your Wang’s named Chunsheng. Yesterday he took five taels of silver to the eastern tavern and hired men, ordering them to go to Fan’s and make trouble—people at the tavern can vouch for that.”

When the Wang’s shopkeeper heard that clerk’s name his expression changed, and his attitude softened a little as he said to Fan Changyu, “That’s one of my eldest son’s regular followers. Please wait a moment, Miss Fan—I’ll call my eldest son to come and clarify.”

The Wang family’s young master was a notorious rake in Lin’an Town: a house full of concubines was not enough for him, he spent his days sleeping with flowers and lodging with willows. This time he had been dragged out of a brothel by Wang’s clerks.

When he returned he was still drunk and disheveled, his clothes not properly worn.