Chapter 12

The news of the seventh young lady of the Qian family going to the Cui estate to collect debts fermented overnight, becoming the most popular topic in taverns and teahouses by the next morning.

"The Cui family has become engaged to the Prefect’s household."
"Young Lady Qian went to the Cui family’s engagement banquet and caused a scene, crying and making a fuss..."
"She has given up on herself, settling for a 'pretty boy' husband of martial origin."
"The Qian family’s salt wells have run dry; they are nothing but an empty shell now."
"The Qians have been backed into a corner; they can’t even afford a pot of porridge."
"The Qians are truly unlucky. Just as their salt permits are about to expire, the Imperial Court has sent officials to thoroughly investigate the four great merchant families. Their fate hangs by a thread..."

Overnight, the Qian family’s standing in Yangzhou had plummeted to the bottom of the four wealthiest merchant houses. Creditors, smelling blood, swarmed in.

Madame Qian had spent the last two days plotting with the third and fourth mistresses on how to kick the new son-in-law out of the house. Upon hearing the rumors early that morning, she realized that Qian Tong had made a fool of herself at the Cui estate the day before.

*That wretched girl! She claimed she didn't care for the marriage alliance with the Prefect, so why did she go there to cause a scene?*

Madame Qian stormed into Qian Tong’s courtyard, only to find it so packed with creditors there wasn't even room to stand. Pushing through the crowd, she saw the courtyard filled with black lacquered wooden chests, all overflowing with silver and banknotes.

*How much is all this?*

Madame Qian gasped, staring at Qian Tong, who was busy handing out money. She felt dizzy. *What is she doing?!*

Ignoring her urge to demand why she had gone to the Cui estate, Madame Qian approached her and snapped, "You! Come here!"

Qian Tong was busy flipping through account books to settle debts and didn't have time for her. "Mother, whatever it is, it can wait until I'm finished."

*Finished?* Would there be anything left by then? Seeing that she was being ignored, Madame Qian leaned in and whispered, "Who gave you permission to touch the money in the treasury?"

Qian Tong had to look up at the mistress of the house, who was notoriously ignorant of the family business. *As if there was ever any silver in that treasury to begin with.* She replied calmly, "These are old debts I collected yesterday."

Madame Qian was stunned. *Those bad debts?* Her husband had worn out his shoes recently trying to collect them and hadn't recovered a single coin. She had managed to get it all back? Regardless of how she did it, seeing her so easily hand it all away made Madame Qian’s heart ache. "Why are you paying back debts at a time like this..."

Qian Tong didn't even look up, calling to the young man recording the accounts beside her, "Next..."

As soon as Madame Qian saw the handsome youth sitting by her daughter’s side, her anger flared again. "Do you know what they’re saying outside? They say you’ve fallen into depravity and found yourself a useless 'pretty boy'."

The brush in Song Yunzhi’s hand left a large, dark blot of ink on the page.

Qian Tong: "..." *What is Mother playing at?*

Noticing the young man’s knuckles turning white as he gripped his brush, Qian Tong felt a headache coming on. She had worked so hard to appease him. She looked up, scowling at Madame Qian. "How is he useless? Isn't he recording the accounts?"

"Mother, you owe him an apology."

Madame Qian was taken aback, as if she had heard the greatest joke in the world. "Me? Apologize to whom? You must have lost your mind..." Realizing there was a crowd watching, she turned and berated them: "What are you looking at? So we owe you a little money? What business doesn't owe money? Who comes to collect debts at the crack of dawn? Do you not want to do business with the Qian family anymore?"

"Master Liu, isn't that right?" Madame Qian grabbed one of them, demanding, "I’ve bought plenty of rice from you, haven't I? Last year, when you came to me saying you had too much grain in your warehouse, didn't the Qian family clear it out for you without a second thought?"

The man lowered his head, stammering an apology. "You are right, Madame. I keep the Qian family’s kindness in my heart. It’s just that my own turnover has been so tight..."

Madame Qian, simple-minded and short-tempered, didn't care about saving face when she was angry. "Tight turnover? Your shop is almost expanding outside the city walls..."

Qian Tong looked at her as if she were a fireball, setting everything she touched ablaze. She signaled to Fuyin, who immediately stepped forward and took Madame Qian’s arm. "Madame, the sun is quite harsh here. Let me take you to rest for a while."

"What are you doing? Let go of me..."
"Qian Tong!"
"Fine, I can't control you, I'll go find your grandmother..."

After such a scene, those who had come to collect debts felt a bit embarrassed. Qian Tong didn't mind, even offering reassurance: "It is the Qian family that owes the money, so you need not feel sorry. Even if the Qian family has to sell the house and beg for food, we will not owe any of you a single cent..."

***

Half a day later, the rumors outside intensified.

"The Qian family’s threshold has been trampled by creditors; they’re about to sell their house..."
"Madame Qian is so unhappy with the seventh young lady that she’s taking it out on her new son-in-law."

The Cui family had gained the upper hand.

"The Cui family spent tens of thousands on their engagement banquet..."
"They’ve added two more teahouses recently..."
"No wonder the Prefect chose to align with the Cui family..."

Women came in an endless stream to seek favor with Madame Cui. The two families had been rivals for five years, and finally, a victor had emerged. Madame Cui was secretly smug. The sixth young lady of the Cui family was the talk of the town, shopping from one end of the street to the other, terrified someone might miss her.

Just as everyone was gloating over the fall of the Qian family, on the third day, the Qians suddenly set up four large porridge stalls at the four city gates to provide food for the commoners struggling in Yangzhou. They even set up a dozen more across the city to provide relief for refugees.

At first, some questioned if the Qian family was just "puffing up their cheeks to look fat"—doing it for appearances to save their reputation. But soon, people realized the porridge used fresh rice from this year's harvest, with no fillers. In less than half a day, the stalls were swarmed by displaced people.

"Didn't the Qian family go bankrupt? Where did they get the money to buy rice?"
"These merchants are cunning and sly; you can't believe a word they say."
"Have a conscience, will you? Eating their food and badmouthing them—aren't you afraid of retribution?"
"Whatever their motive, the porridge in the bowl is real. It fills our stomachs and saves our lives. We should be grateful..."

Slowly, the tide of public opinion shifted. More and more people began speaking up for the Qian family.

The rumors soon reached Madame Cui’s ears. She quickly summoned her accountant and ordered, "Release some funds. However many stalls the Qian family built, we will build more."

The accountant’s face turned pale. He sighed, "Madame, there is no money left in the treasury."

"What do you mean?"

The accountant reported, "When the sixth young lady got engaged, we gave 100,000 taels in banknotes to the Prefect’s house alone, not counting the gifts. The banquet cost nearly 10,000. Of the remaining 200,000, the Qian family’s seventh young lady took all of it yesterday."

Madame Cui felt dizzy. "How much did you say?"

The accountant tremblingly held up two fingers, his heart aching. "200,000 taels, Madame. Yesterday, with one word from you, it was all given to the seventh young lady of the Qian family."

Ever since the eldest daughter of the Qian family married into the Cui family, the salt used in the Cui family’s taverns and teahouses had been provided for free for five years, all on credit. The Qians had tried to collect, and the head of the Qian family had gone to the eldest Cui son a few days ago, but he was holding onto inventory that hadn't been sold yet and couldn't make the decision.

Madame Cui had the authority, and yesterday, to save face, she had emptied the treasury of all its cash for the seventh young lady.

Madame Cui turned white, unable to catch her breath for a long time. Since the money was already gone, it couldn't be reclaimed. Knowing the importance of the bigger picture, she steadied herself. "Move some funds from the teahouses. The porridge stalls are the priority right now."

The accountant shook his head again. "The eldest son just moved a large sum from the major teahouses. For the past month, all the wine and food in the shops have been on credit."

Even if they could move some money, a few hundred taels wouldn't suffice. If they built ten stalls, they wouldn't last two days, and the Cui family would be stuck in an even worse position.

***

By the third day of the Qian family’s charity, the topic in every teahouse had shifted to: "Did the Cui family provide porridge today?"

"No, not a shadow of them."
"The Qians are so poor they built a dozen stalls. Isn't the Cui family supposed to be rich? They spent 10,000 on a banquet, and their sixth young lady bought half the street the other day. Why haven't we seen them offer a single drop of porridge?"
"I suppose it depends on whether they're willing to spend money on the people."
"Only swallowing and never giving—aren't they afraid of choking to death?"

In a private room nearby, Qian Tong pushed a wooden box she had just bought toward the gentleman opposite her. She coaxed, "I heard from Fuyin that you bought a peach-wood comb last time? The humidity in Jiangnan is high, and wooden combs grow mold easily, which can make you sick. I had a jade comb made for you. Take a look, do you like it?"

She leaned in, her dark hair sliding to one side, revealing the water-blue ribbon in her tresses. Her younger sister at home loved such silk ribbons and would stomp her feet in frustration when he couldn't choose the right one. The two were only two years apart—one innocent and naive, while the other was filled with schemes.

She had known all along that the Cui family was smuggling. She had sent people to track them and gather evidence while simultaneously pushing the Cui family onto a steeper cliff. Once the Cui family’s tea-smuggling case exploded, it would divert the Imperial Court’s focus, leaving them no time to deal with the Qian family—and perhaps, she might even earn merit for it. The Cui family would be the first of the four great merchant houses to fall.

She must have secured proof of their smuggling to act now. Curious about how far she had gotten, Song Yunzhi probed, "Is my younger brother doing well?"

"He's fine." Qian Tong didn't want to talk about anyone other than him. She replied dismissively, "You don't need to worry about him."

She lied without blushing, her heart rate steady, and without a hint of guilt. If he didn't know the truth, he would surely have been deceived by her again. Song Yunzhi stopped looking at her cunning face.

Qian Tong noticed with frustration that ever since Madame Qian called him a "pretty boy," he had returned to his cold demeanor. Not wanting her previous efforts to go to waste, she decided to face the issue head-on. "I apologize for what my mother said that day. That’s just how she is—a sharp tongue but a soft heart. You’ll understand once you’ve been around her longer. She’s not a bad person."

"Don't hold it against her."
"A family should live in harmony to prosper..."

*Who is family with her?* Song Yunzhi could bear it no longer. "I am not—" He caught himself and shut his mouth.

Looking up, he saw the young lady opposite him wink, her lips curling into a crescent moon as she praised, "I know Yunzhen has a generous heart."

"Since that's the case, I’ll help you take your revenge today." Before he could avoid the alluring gaze in her eyes, he saw her glance at the grand tavern across the way and say, "Do you remember the person who hit you that day? Let’s go over there and hit them back."