Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 29

She had left, but the account book was still in Song Yunzhi’s hands.

After what happened that night, she seemed to trust him completely—leaving something so important behind meant she was certain he wouldn’t run. With this ledger, the Cui family’s smuggling case could finally be closed.

Now, all that was left was to wait for the Park family to make their move.

Once his mind settled, the pain from his wounds began to sharpen. He frowned and turned toward the bed. What met his eyes was a carved wooden bed draped in gauzy curtains hung from golden hooks, the quilt embroidered in spring-green brocade with peonies outlined in gold thread—radiant and feminine, filled with the fragrance of a young woman.

Only then did he realize that he had spent the night in her room.

His original intention had been to corner her and get answers.

But where had she gone?

Song Yunzhi walked toward the door. Outside, A-Jin heard movement and pushed the door open with a smile. “My lady said you’re injured and shouldn’t move around. It’s nearly dawn anyway. Please rest here for the night, Young Master.”

Song Yunzhi didn’t argue. The washerwomen were already awake; if he were to walk out of her room now, rumors would certainly spread.

So he returned inside. His body was covered in blood and grime—he didn’t touch her bed, instead settling onto the soft couch from before and making do for the night.

Once Qian Tong left the room, she finally let out a long breath. That man’s expression just now had been so fierce he looked as though he wanted to devour her alive.

Fu Yin followed behind, still shaken. “My lady, how’s the young master?” She had seen the scene herself—among the whole group, he was the only one who’d been injured, his robes soaked in blood.

The wounds didn’t look light.

She’d heard A-Jin’s retelling of what happened. The young master must have nearly died of anger.

“He won’t die.” Qian Tong’s steps slowed as she tilted her head up toward the sky. The moon had already vanished, and the faint blue light of dawn was breaking—a color that brought a quiet kind of hope. “He’s stronger than I thought.”

Fu Yin nodded quickly, agreeing with her mistress. From what A-Jin had said, even Young Master Duan had been injured.

If her lady hadn’t rushed in when she did, both sides might have perished tonight. Seeing Qian Tong suddenly walking out into the dawn, Fu Yin hesitated. “My lady, aren’t you going to rest?”

“Who said I’m not resting?” Qian Tong yawned. “He took my bed. I’ll go sleep in his.”

She wasn’t picky about beds. As long as there was a place to lie down, she could fall asleep instantly. After running around all night, she was exhausted. She slept deeply, and by the time she woke, it was already noon.

Sunlight spilled through the window lattice, and the chirping of birds filtered in. She turned lazily, blinked open her sleepy eyes—and froze.

Song Yunzhi was sitting at the edge of her bed.

Qian Tong blinked, still half-asleep, disoriented about where she was. Her first words, however, were, “Are your wounds better?”

It was the first time Song Yunzhi had ever seen such drowsy softness in a woman’s eyes. She wore only a thin inner robe, wrapped under a quilt he himself had been using for days.

He quickly looked away. That same strange, unsettling feeling that had haunted him last night returned. He nodded. “Mm.”

“You were hurt badly. You should sleep more.” She sat up, looking for her outer robe. Seeing her move, Song Yunzhi turned his back at once, out of propriety.

He remembered that night in the clinic—she’d been feverish and barely conscious, but not unaware. He had sat by her bedside all night, and she’d been dressed even less than now.

Even so, she quickly realized that Fu Yin had left her clothes on a wooden table five steps away. Whether she got out of bed to fetch them or stayed lying there, either way she’d be seen.

Since he was already there and Fu Yin was gone, she called softly, “Yunzhi.”

He turned slightly toward her.

Qian Tong pointed at the table. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you hand me my clothes?”

Just then, Madam Qian burst into the room in a flurry of movement—and froze.

Her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of her future son-in-law passing clothing into the hands of her daughter, who was sitting in bed wearing only her inner garments.

Her legs went stiff. Her mouth opened, but for a long moment, no sound came out.

So this was why her daughter hadn’t slept in her own room last night!

This courtyard had seemed too quiet…

“You— you shameless girl!” Madam Qian finally found her voice, scolding with all the authority of a mother. But halfway through, she quickly turned around and shut the door tight. “Be careful someone doesn’t see! If word gets out, who knows what they’ll say about you two—”

Say what, exactly?

Qian Tong stared blankly, not understanding her mother’s reaction.

But beside her, Song Yunzhi’s face flushed a deep crimson. He tossed the clothing toward her as if tossing away a snake, then stepped back ten full paces from the bed, his actions loudly declaring his innocence.

He moved too quickly, reopening his wound; his face turned pale again.

Madam Qian hadn’t come to catch them in the act, and seeing his condition, she couldn’t scold him further. She actually had good news. Moving to shield her daughter, who was now dressing, she said eagerly, “Guess who your father ran into this morning on the way to the salt wells?”

If she’d come here so suddenly, it must be something big.

Qian Tong waited for her to continue.

“Lord Wang!” Madam Qian’s face lit up. “Since they ran into each other, Lord Wang said he’d come inspect our salt wells himself! He stayed for an hour—guess what happened next?”

The answer was already written on her face.

“The salt permit issue’s resolved?” Qian Tong asked.

“Exactly!” Madam Qian beamed, raising three fingers. “Three years!”

To obtain a three-year salt license at a time when the imperial court was cracking down on the Four Great Houses—it was a tremendous victory. Qian Tong froze, then her eyes brightened in surprise. “Really?”

“Absolutely true.” Madam Qian said. “Go take a look yourself. The document’s in your father’s hands.”

Joy lightened everyone’s hearts. Even her mother, who had once doubted this “future son-in-law,” was now warming up to him. “With the salt permit settled, it’s time we discussed your marriage with your father…”

Qian Tong, now fully dressed, bent to pull on her boots. “No need to worry about my affairs. You handle your own.”

Song Yunzhi glanced sideways at her.

Madam Qian left the room. Qian Tong turned to him. “You were right—the officials really were testing us. Good thing I kept my head and didn’t panic.”

Her bright eyes sparkled with joy. The whites of her eyes were pure and clear, her pupils dark as polished obsidian. They shimmered like the finest black glass.

Song Yunzhi accidentally met her gaze and felt a sudden rush of heat in his chest. He turned his head quickly. She had broken into a bandit den and stolen their ledger, and she called that “keeping calm”?

Now that they had the salt permit, there was no need to hand the ledger to the authorities.

Qian Tong, freed from the dilemma, told him, “Keep the ledger safe. We’ve staked everything on this. Wealth favors the bold. Since I’m taking the salt permit, I might as well claim the tea trade too.”

Then she called for Fu Yin. “Go tell Young Master Duan I genuinely want to buy his tea this time. If he doesn’t sell, it’ll just rot in the hills.”

Fu Yin paled. That man might kill her first.

Qian Tong reassured her. “Don’t worry. Tell him this: the Cui family’s fallen, the ledger’s worthless in his hands—it’s just a burden now. I’m doing him a favor by taking that trouble off him. The imperial troops are already in Yangzhou—one hundred cavalrymen stationed in the city, three warships anchored at sea. Duan Yuanjin may be fearless, but the other three families won’t risk getting dragged down, and the small traders don’t have the guts. The only one bold enough to buy his tea under the emperor’s nose is me, Qian Tong. He can take it or leave it.”

Fu Yin was stunned speechless.

Song Yunzhi, meanwhile, gained yet another new understanding of her—her cunning truly had no limits.

No one was spared.

So when he later learned she had reassigned Shen Che to the shipping division, he wasn’t surprised. Shen Che himself, however, was furious. Storming in and seeing Song Yunzhi’s bandaged wounds, he froze before glaring at the “witch.” “What did you do to him this time?”

Honestly, that man had no tact.

No wonder she’d sent him away.

“I didn’t do anything. Your brother went into the bandit den alone—for this family’s sake.” Qian Tong stirred the medicine bowl with a spoon. The mixture was still too hot. She spoke gently, unbothered by the younger brother’s hostility. “Your brother’s already working so hard. What are you complaining about?”

Then, almost casually, she added, “And this time, it’s real shipping work, not undercover duty. You’ve got some skill, and we just got the salt permit—others will be eyeing us again. I’ll feel safer with you there.”

Feel safer? Shen Che nearly choked. Since when did she get to decide that?

“Bandit den?” he demanded of Song Yunzhi.

Seeing that the brothers needed to talk, Qian Tong excused herself. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t forget to drink the medicine.”

She said it so naturally it almost sounded like a wife’s reminder. Shen Che stiffened. If this continued, he thought grimly, fake or not, it would soon become real.

Once she was gone, he turned to Song Yunzhi. “So, what did you find? I heard you strangled the Cui family head yourself.”

That night, Song Yunzhi had gone somewhere to “find evidence.” Clearly, that place was the bandit den. Shen Che lowered his voice. “If you’ve got proof, we should withdraw from the Qian family now. One of the Four Great Houses is down, one’s defected, two remain—it’ll be a hard fight. We can’t stay here too long.”

The Qians weren’t the real threat. The Park family was.

“If necessary, send a message to His Majesty. Have him dispatch troops south—strike the Park family’s stronghold directly.”

“It’s not time yet.” Song Yunzhi replied. “I already have the Cui family’s ledger. No need to rush.”

Shen Che’s eyes widened. “You found evidence of their smuggling? Then let’s follow the trail! We can head to Shu Prefecture and confirm everything.”

Song Yunzhi shook his head. “No need.”

No need to go to Shu Prefecture—everything was here in Yangzhou.

Last night, he’d thought it through again and again. Something had felt off. At first, he believed the witch only wanted the salt permit, but that didn’t fit her style.

That woman never spoke the truth. Whatever she said she wanted—he knew better than to believe it.

Then he realized:

She hadn’t taken the ledger to hand it to the authorities or to blackmail Young Master Duan. She wanted the other side to know that she had it—that she now understood everything the Cui family had been doing all these years.

She was planning to replace them—to become the new tea supplier in Yangzhou.

And when that happened, they’d reach out to her.

Exactly what he wanted.

“You’ll have to make the trip,” Song Yunzhi told Shen Che. “The Qian family’s already on bad terms with Duan Yuanjin. Their shipping lines will be attacked. Use that chance to infiltrate his camp and find out what kind of man he truly is.”

Three days after obtaining the ledger, Qian Tong received a letter.

“Are you going, my lady?” Fu Yin asked worriedly.

The last time the Four Great Houses met had been two years ago. Now, one was destroyed, one had surrendered, and only three remained. With imperial troops stationed in Yangzhou and the court eager to make an example of wealthy merchants, no one knew who would fall next.

The city was rife with fear—yet somehow, the Qian family had just obtained a royal salt permit.

Fu Yin worried her mistress would be cornered.

“Of course I’m going.” Qian Tong smiled. “There’s no profit in this world I’d ever be too scared to take. What, should I refuse the emperor’s favor just because they’re jealous?”

She wasn’t stupid.

She’d earned this with her own ability—and a bit of luck. What was there to fear?

“Write back,” she said. “Tell them the seventh daughter of the Qian family will be there in three days—on time.”

She wasn’t sure whether the young master’s wounds had fully healed, but he still came to her courtyard every day to sit in the sun. He seemed better.

That evening, she asked, “Can you go out?”

Song Yunzhi suppressed the sudden quickening of his heartbeat. “Where to?”

“Don’t worry, this time it’s my turn to enter the tiger’s den.” She propped her chin in one hand, watching his expression with amusement. “I know you’re worried about me, but they know my face—I have to go personally.”

He studied her for a long moment before replying, his voice calm but tinged with concern, “Is it dangerous?”

“Uncertain.”

“Do you need the ledger?”

She looked up, her eyes glinting. “You’re clever.” Then her expression clouded over as she muttered, “I knew keeping that book would tempt trouble. Whether I sell it to the court or to someone in the shadows, it’ll fetch a high price…”

He cut her rambling short. “What do you want me to do?”

“Listen for my signal.” She drew a bamboo flute from her sleeve and demonstrated.

She clearly didn’t know how to play. She puffed her cheeks, eyes wide, face turning pink as she blew too hard. When the low, crow-like note finally came out, she was nearly out of breath.

Her clumsy earnestness was unexpectedly endearing.

Song Yunzhi turned his head to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s it.” She took a few deep breaths, her color returning. Tucking the flute back into her sleeve, she said seriously, “Once I go in, you wait outside. Don’t let anyone see you—it might alert them. When you hear the signal, come in to cover me. Whether I survive the night depends on you.”

He nodded.

She placed a hand over her heart, bracing herself like a soldier before battle. “Let’s go.”

To keep her cover, Qian Tong rode alone in the carriage, while Song Yunzhi followed on horseback from behind.

When they entered the bustling city, he saw her stop before a gambling hall and walk in.

The signboard read: [True Face of Mount Lu].

It belonged to the Lu family.

(t/n: “True Face of Mount Lu” is a play on a famous line from poet Su Shi: ‘I can’t see the true face of Mount Lu because I’m in the mountain itself,’ meaning one cannot see the full truth while being part of it. Here, it’s used ironically as the name of a gambling den.)