Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 48

If that earlier “Young Master Shen” had been an illusion, then the enchantress’s next words were unmistakably clear. Shen Che froze, turning sharply to Song Yunzhi. “She… knows everything?”

Song Yunzhi nodded.

Shen Che blinked himself back to his senses, only to feel more confused than before. Ignoring Qian Tong’s presence entirely, he demanded, “If she already knows your identity, how dare she still threaten you?” He swung around and glared at her. “Or do you merchants really think yourselves so untouchable that even court officials mean nothing to you?” Judging from her past behavior—kidnapping and drugging people—such insolence wasn’t impossible. The thought made him narrow his eyes. “You—did you use the Golden Cicada poison to threaten him?”

In a flash, Shen Che drew the curved blade from his waist and leveled it at her. “If you don’t want to die, hand it over. Now!”

Qian Tong thought wryly that both brothers had the same bad habit—always fond of pointing blades at people.

Facing his killing intent, she showed not a flicker of fear. Her gaze dropped to the blade’s tip, only an inch from her throat. Her expression was weary, almost bored, as if even dodging was too much trouble.

Song Yunzhi moved then. He stepped forward, grasped her arm, and drew her behind him, shielding her with his own body. His voice was calm but firm. “Do not be rude.”

Shen Che stared at his brother’s protective gesture in disbelief.

Had this witch drugged him again?

Song Yunzhi knew exactly what his brother was thinking. “Our engagement was my idea,” he said evenly. “There was no coercion. Put away your blade and sit. We’ll talk properly.”

There were too many questions spinning in Shen Che’s head, and he needed answers. He reluctantly sheathed the weapon and dropped into a seat with a thud.

Song Yunzhi poured him tea.

Just as Shen Che was about to question him further, he glanced back at Qian Tong and snapped, “Witch, can you at least step outside?”

Left and right, it was always “witch”. Qian Tong corrected him coolly. “Call me sister-in-law.”

Her sudden remark made Song Yunzhi pause mid-pour. The sound of tea trickling into porcelain cut off abruptly. Shen Che also noticed the awkward stillness—and his face flushed red with fury. “Shameless woman!”

“What’s shameless about it? I’m engaged to your brother, am I not? Shouldn’t you call me sister-in-law?” She turned to Song Yunzhi for confirmation. “Am I wrong?”

Both brothers looked at each other.

Song Yunzhi’s gaze was steady as water. He inclined his head. “No, you’re right.”

Shen Che: ……

She’d bewitched him completely, hadn’t she? How else to explain this? The last time Shen Che had left, his brother had been utterly dismissive of the woman. It had only been a month—what on earth had happened?

Qian Tong, satisfied to see his stunned expression and to have gotten the answer she wanted, didn’t linger. She smiled at Shen Che. “You two take your time. I’ll go home and change before coming back.”

Her family estate was close to the teahouse, and the conversation between the brothers would surely last a while. She wanted to switch into an outfit that would better match the new white jade pendant hanging at her waist.

As she stepped over the threshold, she glanced down, fingers brushing the smooth stone. Her gait was practically triumphant.

“Brother Song,” Shen Che said between clenched teeth—angry, frustrated, and helpless all at once.

Now that the “witch” had left, they could finally speak openly. “What is going on?” he demanded.

Song Yunzhi explained his reasoning calmly. “If I marry her, the Qian family will become useful to the court. When we first came to Yangzhou, we thought we were well prepared, but she outplayed us at every turn. Her wit should not be underestimated. With her cooperation, the imperial court can infiltrate Park’s fleet swiftly and reclaim Yangzhou’s markets. It’s only a matter of time.”

The more Shen Che listened, the more absurd it sounded. “You mean to say,” he asked slowly, “that you offered up your own marriage just to win over the Qian family?”

What nonsense. And from the ever-rational Song heir, no less.

Had the world gone mad—or had his brother?

“The Qian family are mere merchants,” Shen Che pressed. “No matter how cunning that witch—Qian Seventh Miss—might be, do you truly think she can escape our grasp? She kidnapped a government official and poisoned you. Those two crimes alone could have her rotting in prison. Why waste your time?”

He continued heatedly, “We came to Yangzhou to expose the corruption of the Four Great Houses. Since the new dynasty’s founding, they’ve used their power and wealth to monopolize salt, tea, silk, and spices—fattening themselves while commoners starve. The Cui family smuggled goods; the Qian family destroyed the evidence. That alone proves Qian Seventh Miss isn’t clean.”

Song Yunzhi didn’t defend her, but clarified the facts. “Cui’s ten ships of tea had already reached the strait. If not destroyed, they would have fallen into Park’s hands.”

He hadn’t realized this at first.

With those ships gone, Park’s sea operations would be crippled. Pirates would grow bolder; the court could then slip its own forces in under cover. With the Qian family’s trade routes as protection, the court could secure a foothold in the Yellow Sea.

He believed her surrender had been sincere.

“I’ve been in the Qian household for three months,” he said. “I’ve found no evidence of wrongdoing. On the contrary, they’ve set up soup kitchens for refugees, rescued deceived townsfolk, and employed the injured and disabled. They give people a second chance.”

“She isn’t a bad person.”

Shen Che rubbed his temple.

Fine. If that woman wasn’t bad, then he himself must be a saint. Song Yunzhi always favored caution and moral clarity—but was this really necessary? “Even without her help, you could crush Park’s family. Why take this detour?”

Originally, the plan had been to carve a bloody path through. The Emperor had already approved sending troops to subdue them. Why wasn’t Song using that authority?

Song Yunzhi said nothing.

Shen Che’s eyes narrowed. There was something hidden behind that silence. And the longer he looked, the clearer that something became.

A terrible thought hit him. His pulse jumped. “Brother Song… don’t tell me you…”

Liked her?

Impossible. He was the Song heir—how could he fall for a cunning merchant girl who used poison and deceit?

Yet Shen Che wasn’t from noble stock himself. He’d clawed his way up from the bottom, and like Song Yunzhi, he didn’t truly believe in class barriers. He also knew better than anyone what kind of women could truly enchant men’s hearts.

Men like him enjoyed sweet, shy girls—the kind who blushed easily.

But a man like Song Yunzhi—upright, austere, and pure as the moon—had spent years surrounded by noble ladies, and none had ever caught his eye.

It made sense that he’d be drawn to someone entirely different: a bold, unpredictable woman who challenged him, cornered him, forced him to yield.

Once a man’s thoughts begin to stray toward a woman, even hate is only one step away from desire.

Damn it.

Shen Che cursed inwardly. Why had he ever left Song Yunzhi alone in that house? Now look what happened—he’d practically handed him over!

It was too late for regret.

No matter how many logical reasons Song Yunzhi gave for the engagement, none could hide the truth.

He had fallen for her.

The ever-perceptive Song Yunzhi must have understood exactly what his brother was thinking, but he remained silent, not bothering to deny it.

They were already betrothed; feelings would come naturally in time. There was no need to explain.

Shen Che was on the verge of collapse. He clutched his head, ruffling his hair in despair. “I’m going to get skewered by the Princess’s spear,” he muttered. It had been his bright idea to beg the Emperor for an assistant—
and the Emperor had generously sent him Song Yunzhi.

Now look how that turned out. The Park family was still standing, but Song Yunzhi had handed himself over.

Song Yunzhi glanced at his despairing friend, set down his cup, and said quietly, “It’s none of your concern. I’ll explain it myself.”

There was no point arguing further. Shen Che sighed, speaking from the heart. “Brother Song, you were born in a marquis household, raised to save the people and sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But Qian Seventh Miss—she grew up fighting for survival. She learned to take, not to give. To crush others before they crushed her. Your beliefs are worlds apart. If you’ve chosen her, be ready for the consequences.”

If it came to politics or force, Song Yunzhi would win. But in matters of emotion—Shen Che feared his brother would be no match for the witch.

Song Yunzhi understood the warning. He had once shared the same prejudice, but after truly knowing her, he saw past it. She was cunning, yes, but her heart was kind.

“She’s promised me she won’t do evil again,” he said simply.

Shen Che could only admire the faith of a man who dared to believe a merchant woman’s word.

He’d ridden all this way imagining a dozen schemes—wondering how she’d coerced Song Yunzhi into engagement—only to find the truth more unbelievable than any of them.

Shen Che rubbed his face and tried to process it all.

Then a voice called from outside. “Sir, the lady has heard that Young Master Shen has returned. She’s prepared a banquet.”

It was Dongzhi, one of Madam Qian’s maids.

Trying to look on the bright side, Shen Che thought—well, at least he’d be the honored guest at his brother’s engagement feast. He straightened his robe and opened the door. “Please thank Madam Qian for her hospitality.”

Compared to his restrained brother, Shen Che was far more outgoing. He handled the Qian family’s lively chatter with ease, and before long was laughing and drinking alongside them—especially with Second Master Qian. The two grew red-faced and loud after only a few rounds.

Second Master Qian, drunk and generous, declared, “Don’t you worry, young man. You and the son-in-law are part of our Qian family now! We’ve got plenty of money—enough to keep you both in luxury for life!”

His boastful tone was a perfect echo of Qian Tong’s bravado when she’d first kidnapped them. Shen Che grinned. “Thank you, Second Master.”

“Think nothing of it,” the man said thickly, waving his cup. “Eat more, boy. You’ve been out traveling, you’re thin and sunburnt. Stay at the house a few days and fatten up!”

Shen Che laughed and kept drinking, toasting back. “Then from now on, my brother and I will rely on you, Second Master.”

“Nonsense—we’re all family!” Second Master Qian clapped him on the shoulder. “Once my niece’s wedding is set, I’ll find you a fine young lady too, from a good family. You’ll be married in no time.”

“You’re too kind, Second Master.”

“Kind? Bah!” The man waved dismissively. “The Qian family’s rise is just beginning…”

He trailed off mid-sentence, frowning. The wine had caught up with him. “Excuse me a moment.”

He left for the latrine—and didn’t come back.

Half an hour passed. Then another.

When people finally noticed his absence, they began to search the whole teahouse. No trace. Just as panic began to spread, a townsman burst through the doors, breathless. “The Lu family—Lu’s men—beat Second Master Qian!”

Apparently, when Second Master Qian had stepped out, he’d overheard some commotion. Curious, he’d asked his servant, who soon reported back: Lu Second Master was outside, selling off his family’s silks from a cart on the street.

Surprised to hear Lu’s family had fallen so low, Second Master Qian decided to show mercy. He ordered his man to bring silver notes and buy up all of Lu’s stock.

Lu Second Master had been moved to tears.

They’d reminisced about their early days in Yangzhou, when they’d dreamed of their families’ futures. The mood had almost turned nostalgic.

But after a while, Lu Second Master suggested they continue their talk at a nearby teahouse.

They sat for a bit. Then Lu excused himself. Second Master Qian, drunk and sluggish, lingered before rising to leave—only to be ambushed outside by a mob of Lu family servants.

They didn’t even bother with words. They just attacked.

The young servant tried to shield his master, crying out, “The Lu family’s attacking! Help!” He sent a bystander running to the teahouse for help.

Ever since the Lu family’s failed attempt to accuse the Qians, they’d kept quiet, tails tucked. No one expected them to strike again—especially not today, of all days, when the Qians were celebrating an engagement.

But when Song Yunzhi, Shen Che, and the Qian family arrived at the scene—

The Qian patriarch was already lying on the ground, unconscious.