Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 15

He was happy to stand, so stand he did. Qian Tong no longer bothered with him.

Noticing that a few constables were still milling around in confusion, she kindly reminded them, “This matter’s already beyond your control. You’d best go fetch the prefect.”

The lead constable was wedged so tightly in the crowd he couldn’t even move his feet, much less leave.

Qian Tong helped him out. “Everyone, please make way for the officers.”

Today, the Seventh Miss of the Qian family was firmly on the victims’ side. If she hadn’t stepped in, who knew how many would’ve suffered under the Cui family’s hand. Those who had escaped the restaurant were full of gratitude—once she spoke, the crowd obediently parted. The constables finally drew a breath of fresh air. The round, sweaty one was soaked through, his belt half undone. As he straightened his clothes and staggered out, he grumbled, “You all wait right here!”

Qian Tong waited.

Out of boredom, she tilted her head toward the young man standing beside her. “So, who do you think will get here first—the prefect or the Cui family’s Second Young Master?”

Song Yunzhi was surprised she would ask him anything. He knew perfectly well what he was in her eyes, and lowered his gaze, his eyes dark and still.

Qian Tong smiled at him. “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid of what?” he asked calmly.

“You’ve got guts.”

She tilted her chin, studying him curiously, as though waiting for an explanation.

She was talking about when he had stopped the constables earlier. Cunning people were often suspicious ones, and Song Yunzhi had no choice but to respond. “A man who escorts goods fears no rats.”

The moment he finished, she said lightly, “In that case, when Second Young Master Cui arrives, you’d better protect me.”

Realizing he’d been toyed with again, Song Yunzhi turned his face away, unwilling to give her another glance.

But it wasn’t the Second Young Master of the Cui family who arrived—it was the eldest.

The heirs of the four great families of Yangzhou had practically grown up together. As children, before they understood power or profit, they’d been simple-hearted and often played together.

The Cui family’s eldest son had been born of a concubine. Unlike his arrogant legitimate younger brother, he was gentle and well-mannered, always surrounded by followers.

Qian Tong had once liked him. Because of his close relationship with her elder sister, she’d often followed them around, calling him “brother-in-law” for over ten years.

Now, the woman standing beside him wasn’t her sister.

He had fathered a child with his concubine—and even brought them both here today.

He wasn’t hiding it in the slightest.

Watching the couple and their child walk through the crowd, looking so affectionate and tender, Qian Tong’s smile slowly faded, her eyes growing cold.

“Tong’er.” Cui Da Gongzi’s robes were dusty, as though he had just rushed back from out of town. The hem of his robe was still water-stained, leaving a faint gray mark as it dried.

Her childhood nickname—once a sound of affection—now made her skin crawl. Since the Cui family’s Second Young Master hadn’t come, his elder brother’s arrival was even better. Qian Tong rose from her chair, her tone indifferent. “Cui Gongzi, best call me Seventh Miss.”

He didn’t take offense at her hostility and said gently, “I’d like to talk.”

“Fine. Let’s talk.”

Qian Tong’s gaze flicked to the woman and child behind him. “Are you bringing your concubine and illegitimate son along too? They seem timid—aren’t you afraid we’ll scare them?”

Feeling her stare, the concubine shrank back instinctively, clutching her child protectively. “My lord…” she whispered softly.

Cui Da Gongzi reassured her, “Wait here.”

Qian Tong was just grateful her elder sister wasn’t here to witness this.

So much for being too busy for romance. He was perfectly capable of loving—just not his wife. While her elder sister drank fertility tonics every day, he was sharing tender moments with another woman.

Qian Tong turned away in disgust, stepping into the restaurant first. For a fleeting moment, her face was a mix of hatred, jealousy, and—most of all—sorrow.

She pitied her sister.

Song Yunzhi remained where he was.

“Yunzhi, come.” Qian Tong didn’t even look back. She was angry, and when she passed the bruised innkeeper who tried to stop her, her tone was sharp. “Out of respect for your madam, I’m giving you all a chance to talk. Now move!”

Finally, someone from the Cui family with real authority had arrived—the future master of the house, no less.

The matter had gone too far to contain. Seeing that the Second Young Master wasn’t coming and the constables had vanished, the hired thugs were growing uneasy. But when they heard the eldest son was here, they all looked relieved.

The Qian and Cui families had now completely torn off their masks. Inside, both sides’ attendants stood guard by the door.

Only Qian Tong and Cui Da Gongzi were in the room, the door left slightly ajar so their men could rush in if trouble started.

Cui Da Gongzi knew she was fiercely protective of her own and resented him for mistreating her sister. Skipping any pretense, he asked, “What does the Qian family want?”

She had come to make trouble, and it clearly wasn’t just about avenging her brother-in-law. He went on, “You like Young Master Lan, don’t you?”

The voices inside were perfectly audible outside.

Qian Tong had only brought two people with her—Fu Yin and Song Yunzhi. Hearing the man so bluntly bring up her supposed lover, Fu Yin shot a quick glance at her “brother-in-law.”

His expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Inside, Qian Tong frowned, not understanding what the eldest son meant.

He explained, “Your sister told me you liked playing with him.”

“You don’t deserve to mention my sister!” Qian Tong had promised herself she’d stay calm—but that, she couldn’t swallow. What right did he have to speak of her sister?

Cui Da Gongzi fell silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, “If you truly want that marriage, the Cui family can make it happen.”

Qian Tong understood then—he thought she was a fool. “You think I’m that easy to trick? After today’s spectacle, your Cui family’s alliance with the prefecture is already dead. What exactly do you have left to ‘make it happen’ with?”

She went on, “Since you’re asking, I’ll tell you plainly—I never liked that Lan boy. And my family never intended to marry into the prefecture. You, on the other hand, always want too much, always keeping yourself a way out. But people only have two legs—stretch too far, and be careful you don’t tear—”

She was about to curse when Fu Yin called out anxiously from outside, “My lady…”

Then she darted a glance at Song Yunzhi, who had quietly closed his eyes, pretending not to hear.

Qian Tong bit her tongue, but the mockery in her words had already hit home. Cui Da Gongzi’s face darkened. “Then what do you want?”

“The deed.”

He frowned. “What deed?”

“The brokerage house,” she said. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what kind of dirty business your family’s running. The Second Young Master’s crimes are enough to have the entire Cui clan executed. If you give me the brokerage now, you’ll at least lessen one sin.”

She didn’t want to waste words. “Lan Mingquan’s no good man. The imperial envoys will arrive in Yangzhou in two days. His term’s ending, and before he leaves, he wants to squeeze the four great families one last time. Your family’s already handed him the bribe. Tell me, if you were him, would you risk your neck to protect a family already under investigation—one that’s enraged the common people?”

Now the eldest son truly looked at her.

The first half of what she said was true—he knew the prefect was only after money. But the second half… if she hadn’t stirred the pot behind the scenes, how would public anger have flared this fast?

Qian Tong met his eyes fearlessly. Life or death—she’d survive on her own skill.

He understood and didn’t press further. After a moment of silence, he turned to the servant outside. “Bring me the deed to the brokerage.”

The brokerage…

That was the Second Young Master’s most profitable business.

The innkeeper, who’d been waiting outside, panicked. “My lord, Second Young Master hasn’t returned—”

The eldest son’s tone snapped like a whip. “Then he can bring it himself when he does!”

Half an hour later, Qian Tong walked out with a wooden box in hand.

Before leaving, she suddenly turned back. “Have you gone to see my sister since?”

His face, sharp and tense from their argument, softened briefly, his gaze dropping in guilt.

That told her all she needed to know.

“You should,” she said. “She’s ill. She has something to say to you.”

Then she left without another glance.

Another half hour passed before the prefect finally arrived—late, but smiling pleasantly. Unlike the constables earlier, he dismounted humbly and bowed to the gathered townsfolk. “For such tyranny to occur in Yangzhou is my failure. I am deeply ashamed and will see that justice is done.”

Following behind him was the magistrate overseeing East Street—a small, quail-like man who bobbed his head repeatedly. “Yes, yes, everyone please calm down. With the prefect here, all grievances will be addressed.”

The prefect’s face was kindly, almost grandfatherly, his tone soothing. The people, reassured, stepped back to make way.

Smiling and greeting everyone along the way, the prefect slowly approached the entrance.

“Ah, the Seventh Miss of the Qian family, yes?” he said warmly. “I’ve yet to thank you in person. The porridge sheds your family set up to aid the people of Yangzhou—such virtue will surely be reported to the court. The emperor will reward you handsomely.”

When it came to empty promises, even Qian Tong had to admit—she couldn’t beat a corrupt official.

She stepped forward and bowed. “This humble woman greets the Prefect. You flatter me, my lord. His Majesty works tirelessly for the people, and we only follow his example—to take from the people, and give back to them.”

“Well said…” The prefect smiled kindly, turning his eyes to the young man behind her. “And this must be your husband? Remarkable bearing—truly a fine young man—”

Before he could finish, the magistrate behind him went rigid, as if struck by lightning. His knees hit the ground with a thud, and though he tried to rise several times, he couldn’t. Sweat poured down his pale face.

The prefect blinked. “What’s the matter? You were fine a moment ago—why can’t you stand?”

“M-my lord, I—”

Before he could stammer another word, Qian Tong’s “brother-in-law” stepped forward, clasped his hands in salute, and said evenly, “A commoner greets the Prefect and the Magistrate.”

(t/n: “Yahang” refers to a brokerage house, an intermediary firm that handled transactions, contracts, and labor deals during the imperial era—often operating in gray areas between commerce and corruption.)