Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 13

Song Yunzhi remembered, of course.

Back at the docks, he’d been targeted by Chai Tou, a local thug. A scuffle broke out, and thanks to her timely “warning,” Chai Tou ambushed him outside the teahouse—where things quickly turned into a full-on brawl.

And now she wanted revenge for him? Had she already forgotten what she’d done? The parasite still lingered inside his body—between them, who was the real enemy here?

Yet Qian Tong ignored the bitterness radiating off the young man beside her. Today, she’d come fully prepared, determined to settle the score on his behalf.

The restaurant they approached belonged to the Cui family, a business tied to one of their brokerage houses. It was managed by the Cui family’s second son, Cui Yunfang.

Most of the guests inside were newcomers to Yangzhou—outsiders drawn by opportunity. The servers bustled about with overdone enthusiasm, offering fawning smiles and polished courtesy. From the docks, horse-drawn carriages ferried patrons directly to the door, where attendants rushed forward to help them down, carry their boxes, and usher them in as if hosting honored guests.

Eat well, drink well—and the staff would even recommend you jobs afterward.

Beautiful Yangzhou, generous Yangzhou—so charming even the scholars couldn’t help but sigh. “Yangzhou really is wonderful. I knew I made the right decision coming here. Tell me, what local dishes do you have? Bring me a few of your specialties.”

“Right away, sir. Please wait a moment.”

The waiter who had brought him in kept chatting amiably. “Sir, have you considered our special opportunity? It doesn’t come often. Wait too long, and you might miss your chance…”

“I’d rather not trouble you,” the scholar replied firmly. “I already have a letter of introduction for work.”

“Ah, but you’re new to Yangzhou, sir—you don’t know how things work here. A letter won’t help you much. One word from our owner, though—that gets results. Why don’t you let me take a look at your letter, hmm? I’ll tell you what it’s worth.”

The scholar was cautious. “I’m afraid that’s inconvenient.”

The waiter’s smile vanished. He suddenly reached for the scholar’s satchel.

Startled, the young man stepped back protectively. “W-what are you doing?!”

The waiter dropped all pretense. His face went cold. “I don’t think you can afford what you ordered. We’ll just hold these items here until you pay your tab.”

The scholar bristled. “How can you assume I can’t pay?”

“All right then. One hundred taels,” the waiter said, sneering. “Settle your bill first.”

The scholar’s eyes went wide. “O-one hundred taels? For what kind of meal?!”

“Every dish you ordered is expensive—and add to that the transport fee and the luggage handling. You’re lucky I’m only charging a hundred.”

“I never asked for your carriage!”

“You didn’t ride our carriage? I didn’t carry your bags?”

“But you never said it cost money!”

At that, several burly waiters stepped forward, forming a wall around him, their expressions menacing.

The lead waiter smirked. “And you call yourself a scholar? You think you can take advantage of people? Tell me—what in this world comes free?”

The scholar’s face flushed with fury. “I see now—you’re running a black shop! (t/n: “black shop” refers to a criminal establishment that scams or robs customers.)”

Before they could react, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Everyone be careful! This is a black shop—run while you can!”

“Catch him!” the head waiter barked. “If I get my hands on him, I’ll rip his tongue out.”

They chased him down the stairs to the first floor, but by then the other patrons were growing uneasy. Hearing the scholar’s warning, people began rising from their seats, edging toward the door.

“Lock the doors!” the waiter snapped. “No one leaves today!”

But just as he spoke, two people walked in.

The first was a young woman dressed in moon-white brocade, a gauzy skirt brushing over embroidered gold-thread shoes. Every inch of her radiated refinement and wealth.

The man following her was equally transformed—no longer the youth in coarse green cloth. Now he wore a round-collared robe of shimmering patterned silk, a golden coronet in his hair and a jade belt at his waist. Gone was the down-and-out traveler; before them stood a nobleman carved from cold jade and pine.

The moment the waiters recognized Song Yunzhi, their faces changed.

Qian Tong cast a casual glance at the scholar who had fallen to the floor. “What’s all this about?” she asked mildly.

The waiters exchanged uneasy looks and called toward the back, “Boss…”

“Go fetch the Second Young Master.”

“Yes, sir.”

As one ran off, the manager approached with a smile stretched too tight. “Miss Qian, you’re not at the porridge hall feeding the poor today? What brings you here?”

Qian Tong raised an eyebrow. “Your doors are open to the public, aren’t they? Am I not allowed in?”

Though rumors about the Qian family’s decline had spread like wildfire, they had yet to truly fall. No one dared offend her openly.

The manager laughed obsequiously. “Of course you’re welcome! What would you like to eat today? I’ll prepare it myself.”

She didn’t even blink. “I’m not here to eat.”

Her tone turned crisp. “A few days ago, my husband was beaten by your men.”

She stepped aside, revealing Song Yunzhi behind her, allowing the man to get a good look. Then she continued, voice calm but sharp as glass: “Ten days ago, my husband and his brother had just arrived from the docks when your men surrounded them. Because my husband refused to go with you, they cursed him, cornered him, and beat him—ten men against two, leaving them both half-dead.”

Song Yunzhi turned his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward her.

The manager’s eyes went wide. He was Chai Tou himself—the very thug from that day. Of course he recognized the man standing beside her. So this was the Qian family’s new son-in-law? That penniless stranger from the docks? No wonder he hadn’t been able to find him since.

But as she spun her tale, his smile faltered. Was she seriously twisting the truth like this? Who had beaten whom that day? “Miss Qian, with all due respect, that’s not quite—”

“Yes, yes!” interrupted the scholar who’d been scammed earlier, scrambling to his feet. “It’s true! I was taken from the docks, too!”

The crowd stirred in realization.

“So it really is a black shop!”

“Everyone, check your belongings!”

“Can we even get out of here?”

“We should report this!”

Chai Tou’s face went an ugly shade of blue. He wanted nothing more than to silence the scholar, but with Qian Tong present, he couldn’t act rashly. “Then tell me, Miss Qian—what is it you want?”

Her tone was deceptively mild. “Simple. Out of respect for your First Young Master, I’ll let this go if you bring out the man responsible and let my husband break one of his arms. Then we’re even.”

She said it so casually, as if an arm were no more than a twig to be snapped. These men were used to cruelty—but it was different when the threat was aimed at them.

Chai Tou’s sunken cheeks twitched.

Qian Tong turned to Song Yunzhi. “Which one hit you?”

He looked back at her without a word.

“No need to ask, Miss Qian—it was me.” Chai Tou sneered. “If I’d known that pauper from the docks would become your family’s son-in-law, I might’ve gone easier on him.”

“You did it, then?” she said lightly. “Fine. Bring out your Second Young Master. He can kneel before my husband, admit he was wrong, and say he regrets letting his men behave like beasts. Then I’ll forgive the matter.”

Now he understood—she hadn’t come for justice. She’d come for trouble.

The Cui family’s sixth daughter had just married into the prefect’s household. Did this woman not understand her own limits? Chai Tou laughed coldly. “I’ll remind you, Miss Qian—our families may not have severed ties yet, but if you stir up a scandal, the Qian family won’t come out of it well.”

Qian Tong glanced over at Song Yunzhi’s calm face, her own eyes softening with pity. Then she laughed, a sharp sound of defiance. “So what you’re saying is—a dog of the Cui family can beat my husband, and I’m not even allowed to ask why?”

“Qian Tong! I’m warning you—don’t seek your own death—”

He didn’t get to finish.

A man from the crowd suddenly stood and shouted, “It is a black shop! What are we waiting for—stay and die here?!”

“In broad daylight, you cheat and extort honest citizens! Is there no law in this city?”

“Where’s the prefect? Does the government allow this?”

“Let’s go report it to the prefect himself!”

The crowd erupted, emboldened by the outcry and the sight of several burly men joining in.

“Yes! Report it! Let the prefect decide!”

Chaos broke out as customers and thugs clashed.

And though Song Yunzhi knew every bit of this was orchestrated by the cunning woman beside him, the sight of her burly servant—a man built like an ox but dressed in a dainty skirt—still made his vision go black for a second.