Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 14

The Cui family’s dirty business had been running in Yangzhou for at least three years. They’d grown arrogant—too used to wielding power unchecked. There was no way they’d let anyone walk away alive to report them to the authorities.

Anyone who’d resisted before had met the same fate—legs broken, tongues cut out. But this time was different. A woman named Lady Qian had shown up looking for trouble, and among the crowd were several skilled fighters hiding among the ordinary townsfolk.

The moment the fight broke out, they went straight for the restaurant’s wine jars, chairs, and tables—smashing everything in sight.

Chai Tou’s eyelids twitched violently as a shadow crossed his gaze. He barked, “Shut the doors! Don’t let anyone out!” If that Lady Qian wanted to throw her life away, he’d gladly oblige.

Several waiters surged toward the door.

Song Yunzhi, still unclear about what exactly the Cui family’s racket involved, had no intention of being caught between two rival merchants’ brawl. He was about to step back when the young lady beside him suddenly grabbed his arm, ducking behind him and whispering urgently, “Yunzhi, hit him.”

Song Yunzhi’s brows twitched. He held himself back, suppressing the urge to snap, and instead said coolly, “Weren’t you the one avenging me?”

“You’re stronger than me,” Qian Tong replied matter-of-factly. “I can’t beat them… Don’t look at me like that—hurry, they’re coming!”

He hadn’t wanted to draw attention so soon, but with this troublesome woman practically shoving him toward the knife’s edge, he had no choice.

Since that night, he’d stopped carrying his bronze sword. Unarmed, he had to rely on his fists. The man in front of him swung a long blade down—but before it could land, Song Yunzhi kicked upward sharply, striking the man’s neck with precise force.

He’d been training in martial arts since the age of three, pulled from bed each morning by the Eldest Princess herself. Later, he’d even gone to war alongside the Emperor for over a year. Handling these street thugs was child’s play.

The waiters who’d tried to block the door were soon lying on the floor, faces swollen and bloodied.

Seeing how skilled he was, the scholar from earlier took his chance—covering his head, he dashed out the door behind them. The moment he hit the street, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Help! Murder! Someone’s been killed—help!”

The restaurant sat in the busiest part of town. At his cry, passersby stopped in their tracks, forming a crowd outside the door.

The scholar dropped to his knees, sobbing loudly. “This place—it’s a black shop! They extort and sell people! There are still innocent folks trapped inside! Please, heroes—report it to the authorities, save us!”

“What’s going on?”

“Isn’t this restaurant owned by the Cui family?”

“It is—Cui family’s place.”

“Then they’ve gone too far! Isn’t there anyone to stop them?”

“Who would dare? Not long ago, someone crawled out covered in blood. What happened after? Nothing. The case vanished. And now that the Cui family’s married into the prefect’s household—who would touch them?”

“Careful what you say—words can get you killed.”

“My lady! My lady—!”

The murmuring crowd turned as several young women pushed through, calling anxiously while forcing their way forward. At the doorway, they caught sight of the fight inside. The one leading them went pale, her knees giving out as she collapsed to the ground, crying, “Mistress! Where are you? Please, come out—come out, my lady!”

“Who’s that?”

“Looks like Lady Qian’s maid.”

“Lady Qian? What’s she doing in there?”

…

Fu Yin, her maid, wailed, “I told you, my lady! We can’t afford to offend the Cui family! But no—you had to go demand justice for your husband! What if something happens to you? How will I ever explain it to Master Qian and Madam Qian?”

Her voice carried loud and shrill into the room, grating on Song Yunzhi’s nerves. His punches faltered for half a second, and one kick landed heavier than he intended—the man he hit stayed down for a long time, not moving.

As he paused to catch his breath, someone tugged at his sleeve.

“Wait a second,” came Qian Tong’s voice.

He turned—and suddenly the young lady reached out, brushing her fingertips under his lip. Song Yunzhi froze, caught completely off guard. His pupils contracted, and he jerked his chin up sharply, snapping, “What are you doing?”

His reaction was fast—but the soft touch her fingers left on his skin lingered, warm and impossibly distracting.

Did she have no shame at all?

Meeting his glare, Qian Tong looked utterly innocent as she lifted her hand to show him. “You were bleeding. I wiped it off.”

He didn’t care. A little blood was nothing—he’d been covered in far worse on the battlefield. He wanted to warn her not to touch him again, but before he could, she tilted her head and began removing the hairpins from her hair.

He frowned. What was she planning now? At this point, he was more wary of her than the knife-wielding waiters.

She plucked out every pearl and gold pin, tucked them into her sleeve, then tousled her hair until it resembled a messy bird’s nest.

Song Yunzhi: …

“No need to keep fighting,” Qian Tong said briskly. “The officials will be here soon. Let’s go.”

Seeing the suspicion still in his eyes, she sighed and decided against pulling him again—but when he didn’t move, she gave in and grabbed his sleeve anyway, dragging him toward the door.

Outside, the street was packed.

Fu Yin saw them emerge and immediately ran over, crying, “My lady! Oh, my good lady, thank heavens you’re safe—I was scared to death! Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?”

Qian Tong found her tears a little excessive and couldn’t bring herself to meet her eyes.

The waiters by the door were all sprawled on the ground, groaning from Song Yunzhi’s kicks. Inside, the freed citizens poured out like a flood, pushing and stumbling over one another to escape. The Cui family’s men couldn’t chase after them—not in broad daylight, not with the crowd watching.

Within moments, the street was filled with the cries and testimonies of the victims.

The scholar from earlier turned toward Qian Tong, falling to his knees. “So it’s Lady Qian herself—thank you, my lady! If not for you, we’d still be trapped in there, sold off or dead. We owe you our lives!”

Qian Tong didn’t answer. She adjusted her tangled hair, lifted her chin, and said evenly, “I’m reporting this to the authorities.”

Song Yunzhi had seen enough of her theatrics. He turned to leave.

He had barely taken two steps when a loud, pompous voice rang out from behind the crowd: “Who wants to report to the authorities? This officer is here—report away!”

“Make way! Clear the street!”

Uniformed constables pushed through the people, shoving them aside.

No commoner dared block their path. The crowd scattered quickly, opening a passage for the officials to pass through.

The lead constable was a rotund man in a black uniform, a curved ox-horn knife hanging from his belt, trying hard to look authoritative.

Song Yunzhi, having stepped forward earlier, now stood at the front of the crowd. The constable’s eyes immediately fell on him.

He looked him up and down. So this was the Qian family’s “poor” son-in-law? In a different outfit, the man actually looked decent enough.

Yangzhou had no shortage of wealthy merchants—even the heads of the Four Great Families had to curry favor with the yamen officers. So what did this man think he was? The constable’s gaze turned arrogant. “You’re the one who wanted to report the case?”

Song Yunzhi said nothing, his eyes cold and steady.

The constable felt a chill crawl up his spine under that silent stare, and anger flared to cover his unease. “Take him in! Question him thoroughly! The rest of you, disperse!”

Song Yunzhi didn’t move.

Several officers stepped forward to grab him—

But before they could, Qian Tong’s voice rang out: “I’d like to see who dares touch him.”

So stubborn, this woman. Did she even realize what would’ve happened if she hadn’t spoken up? Would he have fought the constables too? Probably. With a sigh, she pulled him closer, keeping him at her side as she faced the officer.

“Sir,” she said clearly, “what do you mean by this? We’re the ones reporting the crime—why are you trying to arrest us?”

The constable recognized her immediately. “Lady Qian,” he said, tone sharp, “your family’s been handing out porridge to the poor lately. You’ve earned some goodwill. But don’t think that means the authorities will let you cause trouble.”

Qian Tong blinked, then tugged her husband even closer, their shoulders brushing as she pointed to both their faces. “Look closely, Officer. Who’s causing trouble, and who’s the one that got beaten?”

Dragged into her little act, Song Yunzhi stood rigid beside her. He now understood the reason behind her messy hair—but she didn’t need to drag him into this. He was perfectly fine.

He shook her hand off and stood aside, expression flat.

The scholar, ever grateful, stepped forward again. “Officer, I can testify—it was the Cui family—”

The constable cut him off impatiently. The Cui family’s second son was waiting for him to settle this quickly. “Enough! Anyone who keeps shouting will be taken to the yamen!”

The officer’s blatant bias drew murmurs from the crowd.

“What’s this? The real criminals are the Cui family—why arrest Lady Qian and the victims?”

Someone shouted angrily, “The Cui family’s already in bed with the officials! They just married into the prefect’s house—heard that wedding feast cost tens of thousands of taels. Blood money, all of it!”

“Half a month ago, a man crawled out of that restaurant drenched in blood! The yamen turned a blind eye then—are you still protecting them now?”

“Officials and merchants in cahoots—what do you think of us common folk?!”

“You shelter murderers and extortionists—how dare you call yourselves our leaders?!”

“Silence!” the constable roared, veins bulging on his forehead. “All of you, be quiet!”

But no one listened.

The scholar shouted above the uproar, “Didn’t the imperial court send inspectors to Yangzhou to investigate corruption? When they arrive, we’ll report directly to them—we’ll take it straight to the Emperor!”

“Yes! We’ll report to the Emperor!”

Qian Tong glanced at the panicked constable trapped in the center of the mob, sweat dripping down his temple. She tugged Song Yunzhi aside. The situation wouldn’t resolve quickly.

Fu Yin appeared again, lugging two half-broken chairs. She placed them behind the pair.

Standing was tiring, so Qian Tong sat down, then looked up at the man beside her. “Want to sit?”

He didn’t answer.

There was no leaving now—not until the prefect himself arrived.

His gaze drifted toward the furious citizens surrounding them. He had to admit, the witch of the Qian family had stirred this up cleverly. Still, everything they accused the Cui family of was true.

If Lan Mingquan—the prefect—recognized him today, though, he’d be as good as dead.

“Sir…”

He turned automatically.

Fu Yin was holding out an ice pouch toward him carefully. “For your face, sir.”

Song Yunzhi blinked, genuinely confused. “That won’t be necessary.”