Chapter Fifty-Six: Encountering Li Xiaodao Once Again

It was much too early to visit the Pavilion of Warm Jade, and last night he had only agreed to Dreaming Butterfly’s request in passing.

The three of them made their way to the East Market and ducked into the first cold noodle shop they found. The establishment was newly opened; the red silk covering on the signboard had yet to be removed. It was a small place, with just four or five square tables set up outside the door. Inside, a girl of about fifteen or sixteen was busy slicing sheets of rice noodles with a knife.

In the back, a child even younger was struggling to turn the heavy stone mill. The skinny boy wore only a short jacket, and his forehead glistened with sweat. The surroundings were humble, but everything—tables, chairs, benches—had been wiped spotless.

When she saw customers entering, the girl quickly put down her knife and came forward to greet them. “What would you gentlemen like to eat?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. She was a fresh-faced beauty of the modest, delicate sort, not unlike Dreaming Butterfly at first glance—someone who instinctively invited a bit of teasing.

“Heh… Is there anything here besides cold noodles? I’d love some noodles, do you have any?” Liu Lei’s words were meant in jest, just his habitual sharp tongue. He didn’t expect the girl to change expression so abruptly, clenching her fists in embarrassment and anger, which made Feng Jingzhe feel a bit awkward on her behalf.

“Uh… My friend meant no harm, just a joke—please don’t mind him. Three bowls of cold noodles, thank you…”

Liu Lei was left blushing crimson, and the entire scene was witnessed by the little boy inside. He darted into the back room, and moments later, a teenage boy rushed out in a hurry.

At the sound of footsteps, all three looked around, and Feng Jingzhe and Sun Fugui immediately broke into amused grins. The boy who’d just come out was momentarily stunned as well.

“Li Xiaodao? What are you doing here? Planning to drive us off with that stick of yours?” The boy snapped to attention and hastily tossed his stick aside, clearly embarrassed.

“There was extra money, so I opened a shop…” The youth, ever taciturn and reserved, spoke as if each word cost him dearly. Feng Jingzhe, knowing this was simply his nature, took no offense.

“All right, carry on with your work. We just need to borrow your place to discuss some business…”

Li Xiaodao nodded, and as he turned away, hung up the “Closed” sign and cleared away the other tables.

“Uh… That’s really not necessary…” Feng Jingzhe was about to protest that it was too much, but Sun Fugui stopped him.

“Let it be, Third Brother… This kid seems pretty reliable.” The two exchanged a glance and saw mutual appreciation in each other’s eyes.

“Daotzi, are those three outside your friends?” Ling Yaya called softly from behind the counter.

“Fifty taels…” Li Xiaodao mentioned, and the other two inside immediately understood.

“Then we should work even harder, so we can pay them back as soon as possible…”

“Yes, I won’t complain about being tired ever again. I’ll make sure the rice paste is ground smooth and fine…” The youngest, the little brother, thumped his chest in earnest. The three of them were all orphans, bonded together since childhood, closer than most blood siblings.

Li Xiaodao nodded, his gaze drifting outside toward Feng Jingzhe, lost in thought. Ling Yaya, meanwhile, looked regretfully at the unsold noodles, sighing inwardly.

Outside, the three at the table slurped their cold noodles while discussing their next grand scheme to make money.

“I’ll say this up front—the risks in this business are immense, far greater than anything you’ve dealt with before. You’d better be mentally prepared…” Feng Jingzhe set down his chopsticks and spoke with gravity.

“Hahaha… What business is without risk? The greater the risk, the greater the profit…” To Liu Lei, Feng Jingzhe’s warning was hardly worth a thought.

“That’s right, Third Brother. However you want to do it, we’ll do it. Worst case, we lose everything we’ve made so far…” Sun Fugui assumed this was just another ploy like the one with Zheng Yongxiang—a mere story about a monkey, after all.

“Heh… Lose money? Haven’t you already lost enough these past days? If I’m not wrong, Old Cang must be cursing you by now…” Feng Jingzhe’s sharp words exposed the gear factory incident, and Sun Fugui could only laugh sheepishly.

“So you knew all along, Third Brother?”

“Knew? Of course. Didn’t I warn you before? But you just couldn’t resist trying to rope Old Cang in…” Gears were a revolutionary invention, but their impact depended on the context. In this agrarian society, powered mostly by animals, their main use was perhaps improving waterwheels or, at best, siege engines. The scope was too limited; the costs far outweighed the benefits.

“Let me be clear. This business requires large investment, carries high risk, and has a long return cycle—you won’t see profits anytime soon. Most important of all, when the profits finally come, there’s a high chance someone else will swoop in and reap the rewards!

If you still want to invest under these terms, I won’t stop you. But let me state for the record—I won’t be taking even the smallest share. If you choose to go forward, you’ll be the owners. This has nothing to do with me, Feng Jingzhe…”

The more Feng Jingzhe spelled it out, the more incredulous Liu Lei became. Wasn’t it just selling a story? Why make it sound more dangerous than smuggling arms?

“I’m in! Like I said, the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward!” Sun Fugui made his decision without a moment’s hesitation. However the monkey story was going to be sold, all he needed was faith in Feng Jingzhe.

Liu Lei, startled by Sun Fugui’s determination, but knowing full well the man never moved for small profit, gritted his teeth and joined in. “Fine, I’ll risk it all. If I lose everything, who cares? I’m not cut out to be a family head anyway…”

Feng Jingzhe nodded in admiration. Indeed, in every era, fortune favors the bold and starves the timid.

“Very well. Then let’s go mad together, just this once.”

With their resolve set, there was no need for further coyness.

“Our business falls within the cultural industry, and it requires an economically developed region as fertile ground. The first step is to have our own printing workshop—only then can Journey to the West reach as many people as possible.”

“A printing workshop? That’s easy. I know at least three in Chang’an alone. They all have skilled craftsmen, and with the right price, we can buy one outright.” Though Liu Lei hailed from Runan, his connections in Chang’an were extensive. Even before Feng Jingzhe finished speaking, he was already sorting through the best candidates for acquisition in his mind…