Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 65

The saltworks at Lian Alley was the only sea–salt field the Qian family possessed.
Once the canal opened, they would be able to ship refined sea salt directly into the canal and sell it throughout Great Yu. The profits would be more than ten times what they earned before.

She had full confidence they could one day rival the two salt fields under Prince Pingchang. She had been planning this for a long time. Now that the Madam had finally agreed to open the canal, her salt field was about to be taken away.

The sudden blow left her stunned; her surprise flashed across her face before she could hide it. She froze, staring straight at the Heir Apparent.

He seemed not to notice her difficulty and made the decision with finality: “In that case, the Qian family’s Lian Alley salt field will be taken over by this office.”
After speaking, he rose to his feet and bowed to the assembled merchants. “Today, I thank you all on behalf of the court and the common people for your support and contributions.”

None of them dared accept such a gesture. They all prostrated themselves immediately.

A piece of her heart felt carved out of her chest; Qian Tong’s pain throbbed in waves.

Song Yunzhi continued, “The path of commerce rests upon integrity, and profit rests upon fairness. You all conduct business to make a living — that is only natural. But remember this: the law stands above all, and the common people are its foundation.”

His voice was steady, neither rushed nor slow, carrying its own gravity. The presence of the law swept away the small schemes each merchant harbored.

Their responses came unevenly:

“Thank you for your instruction, Heir Apparent.”
“Your words today will be engraved in my heart.”
…

Qian Tong could not say a single word.

Madam Park had felt something stuck in her throat as well. When she heard him mention the salt field, she hadn’t even had time to wonder when her eldest son had transferred Lian Alley to Qian Seven — only to see it seized on the spot for the court.

No wonder that woman had advised her to open the canal.
So that was what she had gotten in return.

All her careful calculations had ended up empty-handed. Seeing Qian Seven’s face remain grim since that moment, Madam Park actually felt a rare flicker of satisfaction.

The Qian family’s old inland salt wells had long since stopped producing salt.

In Yangzhou, sea salt was what held value.

The three ports the Park family had given her were the ones everyone else had avoided — the seawater concentration was too low, the terrain poor, surrounded by rock that made forming salt flats impossible. The Qian family had attempted to create salt evaporation ponds once; halfway through, the ground collapsed, seawater flooded in, and several workers drowned. They never attempted it again.

For this reason, when Madam Park learned that Qian Tong had secured three years of salt permits, she had not been alarmed.

What use was a permit without the means to produce?

Even the textile vouchers Qian Tong received meant nothing to the Parks. The former Lu family, once Yangzhou’s top cloth merchant and top spice merchant, had ended up nothing more than a bird in the Park family’s cage. They didn’t care how much Lu sold within Yangzhou — but anything he wanted to ship out required their approval.

To protect themselves, the Lus had restricted outside goods for years, colluding with other textile and spice merchants to monopolize the Yangzhou market. The Parks had watched it all happen and let them run wild.

They understood the consequence of allowing one family to dominate.
The Four Great Houses had survived this long not because they were truly powerful, but because the Park family wished them to survive.

But Qian Seven had disrupted that balance.

With the fall of the Cui and Lu families, only two remained. Yet the Qian family remained intact — and the Parks were the ones dragged out into the light.

The merchants’ generous offerings pleased the court. Song Yunzhi ordered Wang Zhao to prepare ink and paper and, in front of everyone, recorded each person’s promised contribution in stark black characters. He then had each contributor sign and press a handprint.

Since they’d already agreed, a handprint made no difference.

Madam Park’s name came first. What she had promised was already gone; there was no turning back. The dignity of a great house allowed her no hesitation. After a deep breath, she pressed her hand to the paper.

The second name was the Qian family head.

Wang Zhao saw him hesitate and called, “Master Qian.”

Qian Tong’s heart bled, but the two rows of armed guards at the door allowed no retreat. In the end, she lifted her hand and made her mark.

Madam Park shot her a sideways glance.

Her own second son and third wife had already fallen into the hands of the Prefect. Tonight she had lost a canal as well. And Qian Tong dared to feel distressed over handing back something she had originally taken from the Parks? What nerve.

The more Madam Park looked at her, the more displeased she became.

If not for Qian Tong mentioning that cursed canal, she would never have agreed on impulse.
Calling her unlucky hardly covered it. And remembering the marriage proposal that once involved this woman, Madam Park regretted it so bitterly she wished she could turn back time. Hopefully Qian Seven would take the hint and stay far away from the Parks.

All the merchants present eventually signed and surrendered their contributions.

The back doors opened. The Heir Apparent ordered servants to bring wine and food, then left without another word.

After suddenly giving away a canal, Madam Park did not know how she would report to her husband. Her thoughts were in chaos. She had no appetite for the court’s fare. The moment Song Yunzhi departed, she rose to leave.

Afraid that Qian Tong might follow her again, she didn’t even say goodbye. She called her third son and left the hall without looking back.

The third son, however, called out politely as he left, “Sister Tong, until we meet again.”

Qian Tong forced a smile and nodded.

Once Madam Park departed, the remaining merchants scrambled to leave as well. After the doors had been shut once, they wanted to get out while they still could.

Qian Tong did not hurry. She remained seated and ate every dish the servants brought.

When she finished, she looked up at Wang Zhao, who was guarding her. “Lord Wang, the prefecture made quite a haul tonight. Why is the food so plain? Not even a strip of meat?”

The vast hall was empty now; she was the only one left. Wang Zhao, seeing she had not left, knew trouble was coming. His face hardened. “What does Lady Qian want to eat?”

She rose, walked toward him, and asked in return, “With such a large salt field in my hands, Lord Wang, what do you think I deserve to eat?”

Coming to him for this was pointless — the agreement was on paper, and the Heir Apparent had taken the proof. Wang Zhao made a gesture of dismissal. “It’s late. Lady Qian, please go home.”

But she refused to leave and asked in a low voice, “Where is the Heir Apparent? I want to see him alone.”

The next moment, Wang Zhao ordered his men to throw her out of the hall.

As she was being pushed out, she called back, “I truly have business with your Heir Apparent! Shouldn’t you at least report it? What if he does want to see me? If you drive me away on your own, wouldn’t he be heartbroken?”

As if she knew anything about heartbreak.

How had the Heir Apparent treated her before? He had written back to the capital, introducing her to his family. And she? At the final moment, she had pushed him away and chosen the Parks.

Wang Zhao had always thought her clever. He revised that opinion now.

Blind.

She had refused the position of heir consort for the son of a merchant. Shortsighted beyond belief.

She had done much to bring down the Third Madam — that was true. And the tea had been returned intact. But she had deceived him beforehand, distrusted him, made him stab her, severed the bond between them, tore up the alliance. She should have foreseen the consequences.
Wang Zhao said, “There is no need for more words. The Heir Apparent will not see you.”

No sooner had he spoken than one of Song Yunzhi’s shadow guards arrived. After hearing Wang Zhao’s report, he hesitated, then said, “The Heir Apparent said that if Lady Qian hasn’t eaten her fill, she may come and eat slowly at his place.”

Qian Tong brightened instantly. She shoved aside the servant who had been pushing her, leaned in, and called back toward Wang Zhao, “Hear that? You really need to pay better attention, Lord Wang.”

Wang Zhao’s face turned dark as iron.

Qian Tong, satisfied, followed the shadow guard toward the courtyard where Song Yunzhi stayed.

Compared to the Qian residence, the Prefect’s estate was restrained and simple. The Emperor advocated frugality, and none of the prefects dared maintain lavish quarters. Other than some garden courtyards, there were no artificial landscapes or flowing streams along the way.

Soon the guard stopped before a brightly lit room. “Please, Lady Qian.”

Qian Tong stepped over the threshold.

Unlike the floral fragrance of her own courtyard, the room carried a crisp, invigorating scent. She knew it well. The night he had warmed her frozen hands, she had buried her face near his palm and breathed in this fragrance all the way home — the more she smelled it, the more awake she became.
(t/n: Scholars and officials often burned refined incense blends to aid concentration. These scents were distinctive and easily associated with individuals.)

There was a folding screen inside the room. She walked around it and saw the Heir Apparent seated at a writing desk on the left.

Freed from the role of “Seventh Uncle-in-law,” he had returned to his rightful position — and the aura around him had changed accordingly. Beneath the lamplight, the golden glow wrapped around his crimson official robe, pushing his already cold features into an even sharper, untouchable clarity.

From ten steps away, Qian Tong bowed. “Heir Apparent.”

Song Yunzhi lifted his gaze to her briefly, expression unchanged. Since he had said she hadn’t eaten enough, he followed through, ordering the guard outside, “Bring wine and dishes for the Qian family head.”

A stick of incense later, the guard brought her a full table of meat and wine. The low table was placed directly opposite Song Yunzhi, as if she were merely here to freeload.
“If it’s not enough, Lady Qian, say the word.”

Qian Tong: “…”

The guard withdrew. Only two people remained in the room. When she made no move to eat, Song Yunzhi glanced her way. “Weren’t you hungry?”

She wasn’t a pig — how could she eat so much in one sitting?
Qian Tong considered how to speak. “Heir Apparent, about the salt field…”

He cut her off. “If the Qian family head wishes to discuss the salt field, then please leave. It is late. Tomorrow I will send people to take over Lian Alley.”

Now she understood. He was burning the bridge after crossing it. She had only just gotten the salt field; it wasn’t even warm in her hands. With the canal about to open, if he took it back now, what would happen to the Qian family?

He didn’t want her to bring it up — but she had no choice.
“Then… what if I give you the teahouse instead?” she said. “The court could use it — gathering information, regulating tea distribution — it’s an important asset.”

He ignored her.

“Heir Apparent, do you know how hard I had to work on the way here? I begged and persuaded until my mouth went dry before the Madam agreed to open the canal.”
He should be grateful, not robbing her.
“The canal benefits the court, and you know that. This was mutual benefit. But now you’ve taken your share — and I’ve lost mine. Isn’t this like slaughtering a donkey once the millstone’s been turned?”
(t/n: A saying meaning “discarding someone once they’ve served their purpose.”)

Still he said nothing.

“I truly cannot give you the salt field.”

When he remained silent, Qian Tong gritted her teeth, stood abruptly, and declared, “Fine. If you won’t discuss business with me, then let’s talk about personal feelings.”

Before he could react, she had already walked to his side. Her eyes fell on the memorial unfolded before him. She leaned slightly, asking with practiced familiarity, “What are you writing, Heir Apparent?”

His expression chilled. “Step back.”

She stepped back — half a step.
Then she bent toward him, meeting his eyes, and asked softly, “Heir Apparent… are you still angry?”

She saw the small shift in his gaze and pressed on, her lips tightening in grievance.
“But I’m the one who should be upset. I was stabbed by you and had to lie in the clinic for five days…”

“I stabbed you?” The calm on his face finally broke. “Have you forgotten? You tried to kill me.”

“I was acting for the Third Madam’s sake. I wasn’t really trying to kill you.” Qian Tong asked, “Did my dagger stab you? Are you harmed now? But you stabbed me for real…”

A muscle jumped in his brow. “You twisted the truth — you ran into my blade yourself…”

Qian Tong frowned. “But it hurt. It hurt so much.”

He fell silent, unconsciously glancing toward where her wound would be.

She smiled. “It doesn’t hurt now. You don’t have to worry.”

Song Yunzhi withdrew his gaze, expression returning to frost. He had no intention of continuing this entanglement.
“The salt field is not negotiable. Don’t waste your efforts.”

Salt wells and salt fields were nearly the same — so why insist on taking hers?
Qian Tong began to plead her case. “Do you know how I got that salt field?”

“Back then, when the eldest Park son abandoned me, he felt guilty. He gave it to compensate me for emotional distress. And now you want to take even that from me?”