Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 73

Mingfeng had grown up in the capital. Later, when foreign forces invaded and the city nearly fell, His Majesty’s army from Shu Province pushed all the way to the Eastern Capital—not only driving out the invaders but overthrowing the former emperor as well.
After His Majesty ascended the throne, he purged the imperial court. Most members of the former royal family perished; the only one left alive was the Prince of Pingchang, who had been the sole royal resisting the invaders back then. His Majesty stationed him in Jiangning and granted him a fief there.

Mingfeng had lived in Jiangning for five years. She had met many girls from the Jiangnan region—soft-voiced and delicate. Their voices were gentler than those of girls from the capital, though in terms of looks, they weren’t necessarily superior.
But the girl before her possessed that uniquely Jiangnan gentleness: reserved, graceful, luminous. Her eyes especially—clear and hesitant—were pure and unsullied.

When she reached the part about how the rice had nearly become cooked (t/n: idiom for a relationship on the verge of consummation), she grew too embarrassed to continue. She lowered her head and twisted her fingers.

The princess asked bluntly, “Did you two try it?”

Startled, Qian Tong looked up, cheeks turning scarlet.
“I—I may be a merchant’s daughter,” she stammered, “but I still know what propriety is. W-We never got that far…”

Never reached that stage—but that meant there had been a degree of intimacy.
Mingfeng grew interested. “Then how far did it go?”

Qian Tong didn’t dare look at her. After stuttering for a long while, she whispered,
“Back then, the eldest young master… was still a normal man…”

Mingfeng understood, and yet didn’t. What did “back then” mean?

Qian Tong continued,
“I couldn’t fight my elders’ decision. Even if he and I cared for each other, what did it matter? We were pulled apart anyway. This isn’t a secret in Yangzhou—any inquiry would tell you. I once thought I’d never see him again in this lifetime. But half a month ago, I visited Haizhou to call on Madam Park, and I ran into him there.”

Old feelings rekindled? Mingfeng thought as she listened.

Qian Tong said,
“To bring us back together, Madam Park locked the eldest young master and me in a room, barred the door, and had people guard it. She wouldn’t let us out unless I agreed.”

Mingfeng thought to herself—that old woman truly has never spoken a single honest word. But aloud, she asked, “Didn’t she oppose you two? Why would she lock you together?”

When she finished speaking, the girl lifted her gaze and gave her a look as if to say: If you think for half a second, you’ll understand.

Mingfeng blinked. With you explaining half and hiding half, who could guess?

Qian Tong asked her,
“Two lovers torn apart by their elders finally reunite, finally receive approval for marriage—Your Highness, what do you think would happen?”

Of course—fear of the elders changing their minds again meant one thing: the rice must be cooked.

But it hadn’t been.

Qian Tong shook her head, sorrowful and resentful. After a sigh, she said,
“Your Highness should now understand why the Park family insisted you marry their second son, and not the eldest.”

She spoke slowly:
“Because of me, Madam Park once had his leg broken.”

Which leg—who could know?

Mingfeng froze.

The revelation stunned her. For a long moment, she couldn’t speak. She simply stared at the grieving girl across from her as Qian Tong continued softly,

“His injury was my fault. So Madam Park insists on marrying me to him. How could I refuse? And now that Your Highness has come to take away my marriage… I should feel relieved. But I’ve seen you on the streets before—you’re elegant and free-spirited. How could I let you walk into this half-blind, and lose your entire future…?”

Ever since Madam Park had returned to Yangzhou, she hadn’t had a single peaceful day. The endless turmoil had left sores at the corners of her mouth.

The second son was still missing—gone without a trace, as if he had vanished from existence.

After the man escaped through the lake behind Hongyue Pavilion on the night of the Red Moon Festival, he disappeared. The lake had since been drained, yet no body had surfaced.
Madam Park began to believe the Third Madam’s claim—that the authorities had taken him.

In all of Yangzhou, only one person could whisk away the Park family’s second son in an instant:

Song Yunzhi.

But why would he publicly post a wanted notice?

If the man were in the prefect’s custody, the Song heir would have executed him quietly. Posting a wanted notice meant the man wasn’t in his hands. Though she didn’t know what exactly had happened, Madam Park suddenly thought of someone.

“Go check the record of who left the city that night when the second young master disappeared. And investigate the movements of that Lan family boy.”

The princess had already come knocking. At all costs, the marriage alliance with the Prince’s household had to be protected.

Originally, when discussing the marriage with the Prince’s household, the plan had been for the eldest son to wed the princess.
But the eldest son only had eyes for that little fox—so much so that he ran alone to the family’s ancestral estate in Dengzhou, knelt outside the patriarch’s courtyard, and begged to be removed from the Park family genealogy.

The old patriarch agreed and personally struck his name from the family record.

Outsiders didn’t know, but the Parks knew: the eldest son was no longer part of the family.
After the second son’s incident, Madam Park had prepared a backup plan. She brought the third son home, intending him as the new groom—if not the second son, then the third.

She never expected the princess to arrive first and demand the eldest son by name.

To keep her placated, Madam Park had no choice but to agree.

But the moment she agreed, the eldest son rushed home—still the same obstinate fool after two years—still thinking of that damned girl. He even told the princess about their old betrothal.

And now, the princess had vanished—said to be searching for Miss Qian.

Madam Park could only hope Qian Tong would be sensible enough not to cling to the eldest son anymore.

As for the eldest son kneeling before her—her frustration nearly made her heart explode.

“You know our family’s situation,” she snapped. “The second son is missing. The princess named you. What choice do I have?”

Though he knelt before her, the eldest son’s expression showed no plea, only calm resolve.
“Mother, have you forgotten? In Haizhou, you agreed to my marriage with Miss Qian. A man cannot have two fiancées. You know that principle.”

He dared bring that up?

Back in Haizhou, did he not understand why she and the Third Madam forced him and Qian Tong together?
Did he not see their intention?

Back then, he clung to his old feelings, felt guilty, and feared that the Qian family might be implicated by the authorities—so he secretly gave Miss Qian a portrait of the Song heir.

But how did she repay him?

She kidnapped the Song heir and took him to her family estate—using his identity to climb higher and higher, taking down the Cui family and the Lu family one after another.

Her blade was already swinging toward the Parks. How could they sit back and wait to die?

If he hadn’t given her that portrait, how would she have known the man from the imperial court was the Song heir?
How would she have had such audacity today?

Why had she agreed to their marriage back then?

Because the Park family intended to use her feelings for him—to either let her kill the heir, or die by the heir’s hand.

In the end, both lived comfortably.
Instead, the Parks lost the second son—and the Third Madam.

“You think of her,” Madam Park said sharply, “but she may not think of you. She showed no mercy when dealing with our family. Can’t you see that she’s trying to stand on two sides at once—on one hand tying herself to us through this marriage, on the other entangling herself with the Song heir? The saltworks were yours—why are they in her hands? And from her hands, how did they fall into the court’s hands? The intention is obvious! How long will you let her deceive you?”

Right now, marriage with the princess was the Park family’s only path.

Would he really ignore the family’s future for the sake of personal feelings?

But the eldest son’s expression remained unchanged.
“Mother knows I am no longer a Park. The family’s affairs have nothing to do with me.”

Madam Park nearly fainted from fury.
“You’re not a Park, so you’re not my son? You guard that piece of coastline day and night—are you not afraid that one day what you built will fall into someone else’s—”

“Madam…” a servant interrupted from outside.

Madam Park snapped, “What is it?”

“The Princess Consort of Pingchang has arrived.”

Madam Park froze. First the princess, now even the Princess Consort had been alerted. She dared not delay even a moment and hurried out to greet her.

The eldest son followed—but not behind his mother. His footsteps turned in the opposite direction, heading away from the inner courtyard.

Madam Park only noticed after walking a distance. She wanted to turn back and drag him with her, but fearing she’d keep the Princess Consort waiting, she forced herself to continue.

—

By now, night had fully fallen.
The Princess Consort had traveled without rest, determined to arrive before the Prince reached the prefecture—so she could question the Park family first.

What on earth had happened with the matter of the canal?

Having received no message from Madam Park beforehand, the Princess Consort’s face was ice-cold when they met.
She asked directly:

“Who promised the court that the Park family would open the canal?”

Madam Park had expected her to speak first of the marriage with the princess. But instead, the Princess Consort confronted her about the canal. The servant must have failed to deliver the letter.

So she recounted everything from the beginning.

Madam Park did not mention being frightened into agreeing earlier; she only said that the Song heir had personally demanded the opening of the canal.

After hearing this, the Princess Consort of Pingchang’s expression darkened even further.
“You agreed so readily—did you even consider what kind of predicament your family will face once the canal opens? When the imperial troops no longer face any barriers and can march straight into Yangzhou, they will demand your family surrender the saltworks and the two coastal routes of the Yellow Sea and Dengzhou. Will the Park family give them up? Or refuse?”

Cowards, terrified of death.

Just a single door and a few guards had frightened Madam Park senseless—and she had actually agreed to open the canal.

Why had the court not simply deployed troops to reclaim Yangzhou? Because the blocked canal made it difficult for the military to enter. Now the Park family had voluntarily demolished the “city wall” in front of their own gate. Was that not the same as offering up their heads?

Yangzhou’s commercial prosperity had reached unprecedented heights. The court envying it was normal; reclaiming it was understandable.
But how it was reclaimed—and what the Park family yielded—would be manageable with the Prince mediating. Even if the court took a share in the future, it would only be a share, not the entire city under their direct control.

To hand everything over was sheer foolishness.

Madam Park had felt something was off when she first promised the canal. Hearing the Princess Consort’s words, her heart lurched; she realized the seriousness of her mistake.
She attempted to salvage the situation.
“Perhaps we could find a way… to delay things?”

“Delay it how?” The Princess Consort let out a cold laugh.
“The Shen family’s young commander is stationed at the Huaidong port with troops, frustrated only because he has not yet found an opportunity to act. And you want to offer him the perfect excuse to strike?”

It could not be delayed.
It could not be honored.
Madam Park had no idea what to do.
She asked helplessly, “I was foolish and failed to consider the consequences. Please, Princess Consort, show me the way.”

Given that Madam Park had agreed to the canal in the first place, the Princess Consort expected nothing clever from her. She spoke plainly:
“Tomorrow, the Prince will meet the Song heir at the prefecture office. As Yangzhou’s host, shouldn’t the Park family send invitations for a banquet to welcome the two imperial envoys?”

If Song Yunzhi could host an ambush banquet, the Parks could host one too.

Sweat pooled in Madam Park’s palms. She understood exactly what the Princess Consort meant.
But the Park family had tried before—and the stain of that failure still clung to them.

“To tell you the truth, Princess Consort, the Song heir is not easily dealt with.”

Whether he was easy or not depended on one’s brainpower.

The Park family’s Third Madam had been brave but utterly lacking in strategy; her downfall had been inevitable.

The Princess Consort said,
“After His Majesty ascended the throne, he reinstated the Tea Horse Bureau [t/n: an institution that regulated tea-and-horse trade with border regions] to control the tea trade. Earlier this year, the Cui family’s smuggling ships sank at sea. The neighboring tribes cannot live without tea. Bandits crossed the Yellow Sea, infiltrated Yangzhou, and assassinated imperial officials.”

Madam Park’s heart skipped.

Unless necessity forced their hand, the Park family wished to avoid war at all costs.

The Princess Consort saw her hesitation.
“Your family has been fattened in Yangzhou for years, yet Madam Park’s courage has never grown. Why do you think the court has come now to take Yangzhou? Five years ago, Yangzhou in its undeveloped state—would the court have wanted it? No. What the court wants is the flourishing Yangzhou of today. The Parks aren’t the only ones reluctant to start a war. The court doesn’t want one either…”

She took a sip of tea and continued calmly,
“On the road to the capital years ago, His Majesty killed three princes of the northern tribes. Now those tribes have killed one of his nephews—so what?”

Life and death over profit—no struggle is ever gentle.
Either you live, or I do.

Would the Parks really wait until Song Yunzhi opened the canal, allowing imperial troops to march in and take everything the family owned?

Better to fight than submit without resistance—this was the very reasoning Madam Park and the Third Madam had once shared.

The Song heir could not be allowed to live, and the contract in his possession absolutely could not be left in his hands.

But the man was cautious. Madam Park could not be certain he would give the Park family any opportunity.
She asked, “Will the Song heir even come?”

The Princess Consort truly did not understand how Madam Park evaluated people.
How had the Qian family managed to maneuver so steadily?

The Song heir, as she knew him, was proud, rigid, utterly unbending—never one to be humiliated.
For the crime of kidnapping him, the Qian family should have been annihilated. Yet Qian Tong—the seventh daughter—still lived. What did she rely on?

The Princess Consort said, simply,
“Invite Miss Qian. He will come.”

To avoid drawing attention, the Princess Consort did not stay at the Park estate. After finishing her instructions, she prepared to leave.
At the door, she suddenly remembered her younger daughter.

“Is the Princess Mingfeng in your estate?”

Madam Park nodded quickly.
“She is.”

Though Mingfeng had gone to the saltworks in Lian Alley to find Miss Qian earlier that afternoon—Madam Park wasn’t sure whether she had returned.

The Princess Consort said,
“When we discussed the engagement, I didn’t understand why your family insisted on avoiding the eldest son. Is my daughter unworthy of him? Now the second son is no longer viable; you should at least give her a proper explanation. I know what you have in mind, but your third son is only sixteen, isn’t he? Mingfeng is three years older. She has never liked anyone immature. If you cannot provide a reasonable justification, do not provoke her again.”

Madam Park’s mind felt like a boiling pot—unable to manage any of it—so she could only nod.
“Yes…”

—

Mingfeng had already returned.

She sat inside a room, “talking” with the Park family’s second son—the one who was currently being desperately sought by the household.
What Qian Tong had said earlier that day was moving, yes, but Mingfeng was not foolish. She would not believe one person’s account alone.

Other people’s stories might differ, but asking the Park second son directly would give her the answers she wanted.

Raised in a prince’s household, she had never known incompetence.
And she despised the useless.

When the young master of the Lan family delivered him to her, the Park second son had already become a dog—kneeling and crawling before her, begging for mercy, unable even to speak a complete sentence.

His tongue had been ripped out.

The Lan family’s young master admitted it openly:
“I simply never want to hear his voice again.”

Drunk on power, the man had once found a delicate-looking youth, tied him up, locked him away, and violated him. And after all of that, he had been killed in retaliation—falling into Lan’s hands and sent straight to her.

He liked men. And yet dared to enter a betrothal with her?

Did he think she was someone to be bullied?

Mingfeng had dragged him from Chuzhou to Yangzhou—near death from torment—then returned him to his own family, letting him hope again only to crush him repeatedly.

When her whip struck his body, she gagged him so he couldn’t cry out.
She said coldly, “I will ask you several questions. If you cannot speak, write. But if you dare lie to me—then you won’t be needing those hands.”

Ever since he had fallen into her custody, there had been no day without a beating.
The princess rarely struck him herself—she preferred to watch the Lan family young master do it. Watching him beaten by someone he had once abused was its own justice.

After such prolonged torment, all of his former arrogance had evaporated.

Even if members of the Park family walked in now, they likely would not recognize him.
Survival was supposedly instinctive—but the Park second son had begged for death countless times. Yet he knew the princess would never allow him to die—only suffer worse than death.
He nodded in fear.

Mingfeng asked, “Did your elder brother and Miss Qian ever spend time together…”

—

Qian Tong had returned to her family estate as well. After Mingfeng and the Lan family young master left the saltworks, she had hurried back overnight.

At midnight, the Lan family young master knocked on her door.

Qian Tong had already noticed earlier in the day that his complexion was much healthier than before. She assumed he had returned to the capital after handing the prisoner over to Mingfeng—she did not expect him to remain at the princess’s side.

“What, you still haven’t vented enough anger?”

He didn’t explain. After closing the door, he didn’t sit down—almost as if afraid of dirtying her space. He stood and gave her a warning:

“The Prince and Princess Consort of Pingchang have arrived. Tomorrow, the Park family will invite the Song heir and Miss Qian to a banquet. At that banquet, the princess will make things difficult for you. You must find a way to decline. Do not go.”

Qian Tong blinked. She wasn’t particularly surprised. Instead, she was more concerned by the way he kept treating her like an outsider.
She rose, took his arm, pulled him inside, and pushed him into a seat.

“It’s been quite a few days since I’ve seen you. You’re here now—at least talk to me properly for a while.”

She had her maid Fuyin prepare wine and poured him a cup before asking,

“Why haven’t you returned to the capital?”

He didn’t answer.

She asked, “Because of me?”

He looked up at her—nodded, then shook his head. After long hesitation, his voice trembled:

“They want to kill the Song heir.”

—

That night, the shadow guard Meng Qing knocked on Song Yunzhi’s door.

“Miss Qian has returned,” he reported. “She and the Lan family young master spoke by candlelight and shared a pot of wine.”