Chapter Seventeen: Found Money on the Way Out

“Feng Jingzhe! Why is it him again? Stop the carriage, quick, stop! I swear I won’t rest until I teach him a lesson today…”
The moment the young woman in the carriage saw the face of the man who had seized her silk scarf, she lost her composure entirely!
Without waiting for the driver’s response, she flung aside the curtain, clenched her fists, and made to leap out.
But just as she moved, her arm was caught by another person sitting beside her.
“Hongluan, come back here! What nonsense are you up to now? You’re our only usable candidate at this stage—everything must serve the successful completion of our plan…”
“Oh, Mistress… I am carrying out the plan!
The scarf was meant to be tossed to that fellow surnamed Shen, but… but that scoundrel… The sight of him just infuriates me…”
“And whose fault was it last time for acting on her own, disguising herself as Widow Wang to frame him?
If Old Wan hadn’t stepped in to cover for you, you’d have been exposed, identity and all, in front of the magistrate…”
“How was I to know that corrupt official would be so shameless, and as for that Feng—he’s just despicable beyond words…”
Su Hongluan stamped her foot in anger, her teeth clenched, but remembering the importance of their current mission, she could only turn away and brood in silence.
“Enough with the sulking! This time the assassination must not fail.
The first step is to make you the top courtesan in Chang’an.
At the selection gala, Young Master Gu himself will attend and compose a poem in your honor, helping you win the title in one stroke!”
“Young Master Gu? The Gu Beichuan, famed throughout the land for his literary talent, whose name alone commands eight measures in the north?”
Su Hongluan was elated. What maiden hadn’t heard of Gu Beichuan’s reputation?
“They say Young Master Gu is not only skilled in poetry and prose, but also strikingly handsome. He counts even the Fourth Prince among his close friends, and is a favored guest at the tables of many high officials and nobles…”
What girl does not harbor dreams of spring? Hearing that the legendary Gu Beichuan would compose a poem for her, Su Hongluan’s heart was naturally stirred with excitement.
As for that wretched, odious Feng Jingzhe, he was already banished from her mind.
“To make this happen, the brothers of Green Garment Tower have spent no end of effort and resources.
Therefore, there can be no slip-ups. Others in the Tower will deal with Feng Jingzhe; you must devote yourself to becoming the top flower of the city…”
Seeing the Mistress’s stern expression, Su Hongluan had no choice but to nod in agreement, not daring to defy her further.
On the other side, the curtain of the carriage was lifted a fraction, and the woman known as the Mistress frowned slightly.

At that moment, Feng Jingzhe was holding the silk scarf, sniffing it at his nose as if displaying some hard-won trophy. The arrogance and flamboyance in his manner were enough to provoke anyone’s ire.
“Feng, if you know what’s good for you, give that scarf back to me…”
“Hahaha… What a joke! It fell from the sky, didn’t it? How is it yours?”
Feng Jingzhe deliberately rubbed the scarf against his face.
“Wow… so smooth… Tsk tsk tsk… If the scarf is this smooth, I bet the little beauty’s hands must be even smoother…
Red Sleeves, is it? I’ll return the scarf tonight… who knows, maybe I’ll get a taste of her fragrance… heh heh heh…”
Feng’s shameless laughter nearly made Fan Zihui blow his top. He should have been the one retrieving the scarf!
“Damn you, don’t think I’m afraid just because you’re some big shot at Sishui Pavilion…
Let me tell you, my brother-in-law is the current Minister of War, a second-rank official!”
“A second-rank official? Oh, I’m shaking! Do you know who my wife is? The General of Zhenxi, who leads eight thousand against a hundred thousand…”
‘So we’re both relying on connections! Me, I live off my wife directly, which is more straightforward than you living off your sister by marriage… What a joke!’
Truth be told, Fan Zihui really couldn’t do anything to Feng Jingzhe at the moment. But the thought of the beautiful maiden’s face in the carriage left his heart itching.
“Name your price. What will it take for you to give me back the scarf?”
Fan Zihui gave in—on a crowded street, there was no point in quarreling with someone so widely known as a scoundrel.
Anyone who could justify living off a woman in open court was unlikely to care about saving face.
“Haha… That’s more like it! There’s nothing in this world that money can’t solve. And if there is, it’s only because you’re not offering enough…”
Seeing Feng Jingzhe waving the scarf tauntingly, Fan Zihui relented.
“Heh, so that’s what this is about. Name your price!”
“Brother Fan, you’re straightforward! Fifty taels, and the scarf is yours…”
Feng’s demand was outrageous, and seeing Fan Zihui’s face darken as if he was about to explode, he quickly lowered his price.
“Thirty taels, no less! The Minister of War’s brother-in-law can surely afford that much?
Think about it—this isn’t just a scarf. It’s a chance to get ahead.
So many people saw what happened just now; I’m sure plenty would pay thirty taels for this opportunity…”

Which made sense. And so, a quarter of an hour later, someone’s purse was heavier by a small bag of silver coins.
It was like finding money in the street—who would have thought that after a morning stroll, some mutton, and tea, he’d end up with someone stuffing silver into his hands? Life was good!
Roving aimlessly, Feng Jingzhe soon found himself outside the Shiweitian Tavern.
From a distance, he saw a long line at the entrance: men and women, young and old, all clutching purses—not here for food, that much was clear.
Fatty Sun had set up a table at the doorway, surrounded by clerks scribbling furiously, while another man packed money into a wooden chest.
Apparently, these people had come to hand over their money only after confirming that cartloads of huanglian were being sent out of the city.
The lure of high interest rates—no matter the era, it has always had a powerful draw.
Feng Jingzhe watched from afar; he didn’t need to know the exact sum, just one look at Fatty Sun’s face—grinning so wide his features disappeared—told him everything.
But there was someone even happier: Zheng Yongxiang, in the main hall of the Zheng household.
After hearing Steward Wang Song’s report, the corners of Zheng’s mouth hadn’t lowered all morning.
“So you’re saying the common folk of Chang’an are already lending their money to Feng Jingzhe’s lot…”
“Yes, Young Master. We’ve had people watching Shiweitian all morning. At least three hundred have gone in!
At this rate, tomorrow’s crowd will double, and in a few days, everyone in Chang’an will be Feng Jingzhe’s creditor!”
“Hahahaha… Feng Jingzhe, oh Feng Jingzhe, you really are in a hurry to die!”
Zheng Yongxiang drained his cup of tea and thumped it down on the table.
“Sell, sell off all the huanglian we’ve bought up from Liyang… They have money to burn right now…”
“Young Master, how much do we raise the price this time? Because of our bulk purchases, the price in Lixian and Hongnong has already gone up by ten percent…”
“Don’t raise it yet; just keep to cost and don’t lose money! Now is not the time to tip our hand.
Let them turn all the money in Chang’an into huanglian—then, Young Master will teach them a lesson they won’t forget…”