Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 57

Qian Tong was led by Lady Park’s maid to a small courtyard where she would be staying.

As Lady Park had promised, everything inside was already arranged — food, bedding, daily necessities — all neatly in place. A fresh stack of clean clothes sat folded high, enough to last her ten days, half a month even.

The eldest son arrived home in the middle of the night.

When he came in, Qian Tong had not yet gone to sleep. She had already washed, changed into clean garments, and was sitting on the couch reading one of the books Lady Park had prepared for her.

Hearing the sound of servants outside greeting someone, followed by hurried footsteps, she knew who it was. She didn’t move, simply sat there, calm beneath the lamplight.

Moments later, Park Chengyu entered, his sleeves stirring with the night breeze. Frowning at the quiet girl illuminated by the lamp, the first words out of his mouth were:

“You shouldn’t have come.”

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of a lock turning came from behind the door.

Park Chengyu turned, his expression darkening with disapproval at such tactics.

Qian Tong, however, showed no surprise. “You know you shouldn’t have come either, Young Master Park — yet here you are.” Setting down the book, she gestured to the mat opposite her. “Since you’re already here, sit. Even if you stand the whole night, they won’t open the door.”

So long as she refused to yield, Lady Park would not let him go.

Park Chengyu didn’t move. He seemed uncertain how to face her. After a long silence, he finally managed the most useless words imaginable. “I’m sorry.”

“I came of my own will. It has nothing to do with you.”

He didn’t sit, and she didn’t press him. Rising, she said, “There’s tea in the pot. If you’re thirsty, help yourself. I’ve been traveling without rest and I’m tired. I’ll sleep first.”

“All right.”

He took a seat on the mat where she had been. Behind him came the faint rustle of her preparing for bed. He never turned to look, just stared at the teacup before him. After drinking two cups, he remained motionless.

The entire night passed without another sound.

At dawn, the door was unlocked.

A maid brought in breakfast for two and relayed Lady Park’s message: “The Young Master and Lady Qian haven’t seen each other for years. It’s rare you can meet again — make good use of this time. As for other matters, the Young Master may rest assured, I’ll take care of them.”

“Ridiculous!”

The word had barely left the maid’s mouth when Park Chengyu snapped, “Has she lost her mind? Does she even know what she’s doing?”

Everyone in the Park household knew the Young Master had a mild temper — he never raised his voice to servants. His sudden anger stunned the maid, who dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me, Young Master!”

Park Chengyu’s face was dark with restrained fury. “Tell my mother — if she truly wishes to stop this from going any further, she should remove her people and let Miss Qian return to Yangzhou.”

The reply came swiftly.

“Two years ago, the two of you were devoted to each other and planned to ask the elders to approve your union. It was I, as your mother, who misunderstood you. I interfered, had your legs broken, and sent Lady Qian away. I played the villain. For two years, I’ve borne my punishment — you refuse to live under the same roof, won’t see me, won’t even speak to me. Now that I’ve tasted enough bitterness, I wish to lower my head and make amends by fulfilling what you once wanted. What, now you don’t want it anymore?”

But Park Chengyu showed no gratitude. His voice turned to ice. “If you persist in your delusions, Mother, then I’ll never see you again in this lifetime.”

Lady Park, furious, slammed a teacup to the floor, shattering it. “He’s lost his senses to love! Two years, and not an ounce of maturity!”

Her anger did not soften her stance. She ignored his threats and even increased the number of guards outside the courtyard.

Park Chengyu, though gifted in medicine and business, had little skill in combat. When Qian Tong saw him sorting through bundles of herbs, she sat quietly nearby, watching.

Then she said softly, “Tell me, if two years ago we hadn’t been discovered—if we’d both left our families behind and lived our own lives—would it have been like this?”

His hands faltered over the herbs. He couldn’t lift his head.

She went on. “With your talent and my hard work, maybe we’d have made something of ourselves by now. We’ve both suffered enough in business; our children wouldn’t have to repeat our mistakes. We’d rent a small plot of land—you’d sell medicine, I’d weave cloth. We’d live as simple farmers, send the children to a private school. Life would be hard, but we’d have a future we could see.”

His voice was rough. “Tong’er…”

“Would you have liked that kind of life?”

He didn’t answer. A heavy tension gathered in his chest, as though he already sensed what was coming.

Qian Tong smiled faintly. “I suppose that’s not what either of us truly wanted.” When he looked up, she lowered her gaze, staring at her shoes. Her voice softened. “Mingyi, I think I’ve become a greedy woman.”

“When a shortcut appears in front of me, I’m tempted. I ask myself—why shouldn’t I take it?”

“Your mother once said I wasn’t worthy of you. Out of pride, I worked to prove her wrong—to show her I could rise high enough to stand beside you. But now that I’ve finally earned that right, I find I can’t stop. I want more. I want the light shining on me—bright and wide. I don’t want to wait, and I don’t want to gamble.”

She lifted her head, meeting the eyes that had once given her all the warmth she’d known in life. Her voice trembled with remorse. “Does that make me a traitor?”

Park Chengyu had stopped moving long ago. All the restraint he’d held broke; his eyes were dark and pained. “Tong’er…”

Qian Tong lowered her head in shame. “Lady Park asked me to kill him.”

“Mingyi, do you think I should agree?”

He didn’t answer, but the air between them grew heavy and suffocating.

She didn’t dare meet his gaze. “People like me never end well. You painted me once, out of kindness. But now I’m ready to leave you behind… and yet, his hands were so warm.”

Two nights after Qian Tong’s departure, Song Yunzhi received a pigeon message:

[Lan Yizhi has joined with Princess Mingfeng. Park Chengjun is in the princess’s custody.]

On the fourth day came another:

[Lady Qian has reached Haizhou.]

Since that night, Shen Che had not recovered from the shock of Park Chengjun’s abduction. He had furiously berated Wang Zhao.

Wang Zhao had said nothing — skill is skill, and he had been outmatched.

After the young lord and Shen left that night, the old Madam Qian arrived with Fifth Miss Qian, saying they were bringing clothing for Qian Tong.

Fearing an incident, Wang Zhao offered to deliver the items himself. But the old lady insisted — “These are a young woman’s personal things. It wouldn’t be proper for a man to carry them.”

To ease his concern, she even stayed behind as collateral, while Fifth Miss Qian went down to the dungeon alone.

Wang Zhao, wary of Qian Tong’s cunning — and remembering the warning from the young lord — took no chances. He had the old lady treated courteously, then followed Fifth Miss himself.

In the cell, the two sisters spoke for a while.

Wang Zhao had overheard every word of the exchange.

Fifth Miss Qian was saying, “Second Uncle has regained consciousness. Second Aunt has taken him home — after some time recuperating, he’ll recover fully. Seventh Sister needn’t worry. It’s you I’m more concerned about — you’ll have to suffer a little longer. Grandmother said the magistrate’s office isn’t what it used to be; the officials there are all men of fairness now. They won’t wrongly convict us. So don’t be anxious — stay here quietly and wait for them to uncover the evidence that will clear our family’s name. When that happens, you can walk out of here with your head held high.”

Seventh Miss Qian nodded. “If Grandmother has said so, what else can I do?”

Hearing this, Wang Zhao finally let out a sigh of relief.

Fifth Miss handed over the bundle in her arms. “These clothes, Grandmother had them blessed before the Buddha. Change into them, Seventh Sister — they’ll drive away bad luck.”

The two went behind the screen to change. Wang Zhao couldn’t exactly go in after them, so he stood guard at the door.

After a while, Fifth Miss emerged, holding the lamp and taking the hand of her newly changed sister. “It’s getting late. I should go. Take care, Sister.”

Wang Zhao saw with his own eyes as Fifth Miss walked out, lamp in hand. Before leaving, the woman still inside — the supposed Seventh Miss — turned toward the head of the Lu family in the opposite cell and said, “Do you need anything, Master Lu? Next time my sister comes, she can bring something in for you.”

The Lu family head smiled politely. “Your thought is enough, Miss Qian. I’m already lucky to still be breathing — what use would I have for worldly things?”

Everyone left. Nothing seemed amiss to Wang Zhao.

Not until the return of the young lord and Shen Che.

Shen Che stormed into the dungeon, fury barely restrained, and dragged the “impostor” out by force.

When Wang Zhao heard the commotion and hurried over, Shen Che was already interrogating her. “Fifth Miss Qian — what is your real name?”

Wang Zhao froze. The girl kneeling on the ground looked so much like the Seventh Miss — and yet wasn’t her. His mind went completely blank.

Fifth Miss Qian was older than her sister, but far more timid. Frightened by Shen Che’s tone, she trembled all over, biting her lip as she stammered, “I… I’m called Fifth Miss…”

At that moment, Shen Che was so enraged he could have killed someone. “Does the Qian family really think the law can’t touch them? Helping a prisoner escape carries the same sentence as the prisoner! Tie her to the torture rack. She stays there until Seventh Miss returns!”

Before the guards could even move, Fifth Miss’s eyes rolled back — she’d fainted dead away.

Park Chengyu’s younger brother hadn’t been caught, and now Qian Tong — the prime suspect — had escaped from prison and vanished completely. Even her own family had no idea where she’d gone.

Shen Che scoured every corner of Yangzhou.

He searched for both Park’s second son and Qian Tong.

He even ordered the city gates sealed — still, there was no trace.

On the fifth day, Song Yunzhi received another pigeon message:

[The eldest son of the Park family has returned.]

Without delay, he turned to Shen Che. “I’ll be in Fuzhou for a few days,” he said briskly, then headed straight to the dungeon.

He kicked open two cell doors in succession. Inside, Jin and Fu Yin — who had been imprisoned for days — looked up in stunned disbelief.

“Come out,” he said evenly. “You’re coming with me.”

The two had spent the past days shouting their innocence until their voices were raw, yet no one had come.

The magistrate’s men — whether out of malice or neglect — had made escape impossible: guards stood watch in shifts, and new locks had been added to the cell doors.

Seeing Song Yunzhi now, Jin nearly cried. “Sir, thank heavens you’re here! We’ve been framed! When we arrived, the Lu family was already slaughtered. Only the second son of the Lu family was barely alive — he begged my lady to save his child. She took pity and agreed to help, but it was a trap—”

He paused, realizing Song Yunzhi was alone — no one from the Qian family accompanied him. “Where’s the lady? Did you see her? She can’t bear false accusations — I’m afraid she’ll get sick from the anger! And, sir… how did you get in here? Have we been cleared?”

Ever since Song Yunzhi had entered the Qian household, Jin had attended him closely, practically a personal servant. Feeling familiar, he continued to complain: “That official from the capital — he’s useless! Doesn’t use his head, doesn’t even sort out right from wrong, just locks everyone up—”

Song Yunzhi ignored him and walked toward the exit.

Jin and Fu Yin hurried to follow.

Jin started to ask about Second Master Qian — whether he’d woken yet — and where the Seventh Miss was. “Sir—”

The guard ahead suddenly bowed low. “My lord.”

Song Yunzhi inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Jin and Fu Yin froze where they stood, struck as though by lightning. Jin turned to Fu Yin with a stiff neck. “What… what did he just call him?”

Fu Yin’s face went pale. She had heard it too.

Their knees went weak. They could barely move their legs.

Song Yunzhi had walked several steps before noticing they weren’t following. He turned back, gaze cold. “Are you coming or not?”

Because of its climate and geography, the neighboring kingdom lived on meat year-round. Without tea to cleanse the body of grease, illness was common — and so, long ago, they traded their warhorses for Great Yu’s tea.

But as Great Yu grew stronger, it stopped exchanging horses and began smuggling instead.

The Cui family of Yangzhou became the empire’s largest tea smugglers. They collected tea from Shu Province, transported it across the ungoverned Yellow Sea, and — with the Park family’s backing — sold it secretly to the neighboring land for immense profit.

This year, all of Cui’s tea shipments had sunk to the ocean floor — effectively severing the neighbor’s lifeline.

Yet not all was lost. Shu’s warehouses might be empty, but Fuzhou still had Jian tea.

Jian tea was a tribute-grade product — rare and costly.

Once, Qian Tong had given Song Yunzhi a small compressed cake of Dragon Pellet Jian tea — the finest of its kind. Because domestic demand was high and supply limited, only a fraction ever left the country through smuggling.

The rest was sold locally.

But this year was different. The neighboring kingdom would surely turn its eyes to Jian tea. Song Yunzhi had anticipated this long ago — which was why, when negotiating with Qian Tong, he had warned her never to meddle in the tea trade.

Yet that very morning, the Qian family had come knocking.

At the steps of the tea warehouse, Jin grasped the iron ring on the door and knocked three times, calling out, “I’m with Lady Qian Tong. We’ve come today to discuss a business matter with the Young Master.”

After speaking, he turned to glance at the man disguised as a servant behind him — no, not a servant at all, but Song Yunzhi himself. Jin gave a nervous grin, silently asking if he’d said the right thing.

They had ridden hard all the way from Yangzhou, sweat soaking through Jin’s back — drying and dampening again with every mile. Now, as the wind blew, it chilled him straight to the bone.

Song Yunzhi gave a small nod.

Relieved, Jin turned back and called again, louder this time. “I’m with Lady Qian Tong—”

He had just repeated it a third time when the door opened.

A steward stepped out — one who recognized Jin — and greeted him politely. “So you’re from Lady Qian’s household? Please, come in. But today’s not the best time — the Young Master isn’t—”

Before he could finish, a cold blade pressed against his throat.

In an instant, over a dozen shadow guards surged into the tea house.