Chapter 205: Running Rampant (III)

After a thoroughly unrestrained conversation, Zhang Kai escorted Le Wuya out the door.

They walked side by side once more, but the dynamic between them was now worlds apart from when they had entered.

Zhang Kai's face was as pale as wax, as if it had been stomped on several times.

In comparison, his vitality seemed completely sucked out by Le Wuya at his side.

Le Wuya's face flushed like peach blossoms, his spirit glowing like morning clouds. He patted Zhang Kai's shoulder affectionately and declared, "Pleasure doing business, Brother Meng'an!"

The steward watched from the sidelines, completely baffled, with no clue what had gone on in the room.

Hearing the prefect address him as "Brother Meng'an" so familiarly and warmly, the secret talk seemed to have gone quite well.

But judging from his master's face, that couldn't have been further from the truth.

As he hesitated, Zhang Kai waved a hand at him wearily: "Come, old Zhan, bring the prefect an umbrella. His Excellency is slight of frame; we can't have his robes soaked."

"Brother Meng'an is too generous."

After the pleasantries, Le Wuya turned to the steward and said, "I hear Brother Meng'an has a truly exceptional umbrella at home—sandalwood frame, silk canopy, and five famous embroiderers brought in from Guangdong to stitch landscapes and waterfalls onto the canopy using Cantonese embroidery. When rain falls on it, it sounds like a trickling stream. Do you happen to have such a treasure?"

Steward Zhan, not thinking twice, assumed Zhang Kai had bragged about his prized umbrella during their talk. He bowed respectfully and replied, "Indeed, Your Excellency, such an item exists."

As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Zhang Kai, waiting for his signal on whether to give the umbrella to the prefect.

But Zhang Kai stayed silent, and his already sour expression grew even darker.

When had he ever told the prefect he had such a prized umbrella?

...Just how much of his private life had Wen Ren Mingke been snooping into?

Last year, his hired thug "Master Xi," whose real name was Fukuhara Shitaro, had come asking for grain to feed his gang of brothers.

Back then, Zhang Kai still had spare grain in his warehouses.

But Wen Ren Mingke had just taken down Wei Yixian and was on top of the world in Tongzhou.

Zhang Kai couldn't be bothered with this cocky young prefect, but since he'd have to stir up trouble for him sooner or later, why not do it now?

So he had casually replied, "The centurion of Mixi County is a useless glutton, nothing to worry about. The Mixi County granary still has the grain I delivered this year. If you've got the guts, help yourself. Whatever you grab, forty percent's yours, and bring back sixty percent to me."

Who'd have thought that bunch of Japanese pirates would be so useless...

Zhang Kai quickly pushed aside that improper thought. With a wave, Steward Zhan set down the oiled paper umbrella that was ready and scurried off to get the treasure umbrella.

While Zhang Kai's thoughts were in turmoil, Le Wuya turned his eyes to the plaque and couplets in the study.

The first line read: "Virtue matching heaven and earth, a clear conscience."

The second line read: "Merit surpassing all ages, admired by the world."

At the top, on a gleaming gold plaque, four characters were carved: "Great virtue bears all things."

The smile in Le Wuya's eyes slowly faded. What a shameless show, he thought.

After all these years serving the Old Emperor, there was one upside to all the harm.

The dirty secrets of court officials—whether dumping wives for concubines, hitting brothels, skimming public funds, or letting kin run wild—were all filed away in Le Wuya's head. Whoever he wanted to target, he could just pull something from his memory.

Some things, he knew even better than the Emperor.

...After all, some things the Emperor didn't really want to know that much about.

Steward Zhan soon came back with the treasure umbrella and handed it to Le Wuya with respect.

Le Wuya put on a show of refusing—"Oh, I couldn't, I really couldn't"—but his hands had already grabbed it. After a quick look, he smiled and said, "Well then, I'll just borrow it for now."

Zhang Kai cut in, "Since Your Excellency likes it so much, please take it as a gift."

"Ah. An official is a model for the people. If the official isn't upright, how can the people follow?" Le Wuya spouted official clichés with ease. "Rain falls from the sky, so I have no choice but to borrow an umbrella. When Brother Meng'an comes to call on me, I'll surely return it in one piece, ah."

Zhang Kai: "..."

He suspected that Wen Ren fellow was needling him.

But the words were polite, so he had to swallow his pride, bow, and escort Le Wuya to the front gate, helping him onto his little yellow horse.

The well-fed, contented yellow horse trotted off at a leisurely pace, leaving Zhang Kai standing there, stewing with no one to vent to.

He called out, "Old Zhan..."

The words died on his lips.

He vaguely remembered that Wei Yixian had fallen because he sent a trusted man to kill someone in another region, and the trail led back to him, taking him down completely.

Back then, he'd mocked Wei Yixian for being stupid, but now the shoe was on the other foot, and he saw he had no choice.

If it wasn't a trusted confidant, he'd never dare hand over something so crucial to the Zhang family's future to anyone else.

But if he did nothing, would he just let Wen Ren Yue push him around and squeeze him dry?

That treasure umbrella was proof.

It was just an umbrella worth fifty gold—Zhang Kai had grown up in a pile of gold and silver and wouldn't blink at it.

What burned him was that others thought they had dirt on him, taking whatever they wanted, while he had no way to fight back and had to smile and hand it over.

...From a while ago till now, his face was about to split from all the smiling.

Steward Zhan waited a long time, and when Zhang Kai didn't go on, he asked, a bit puzzled, "...Master?"

"...Set out fresh writing materials."

After standing a long time in the drizzling rain, Zhang Kai's hair was damp with mist.

Steward Zhan asked, confused, "Weren't they already prepared for you earlier..."

Zhang Kai cut him off coldly: "Those were just ordinary paper and ink. Grind fresh ink and get me Xuantang paper. I'm writing to my uncle. No one disturbs me until the letter's done. Any servant who disobeys gets beaten to death."

Steward Zhan opened his mouth, then lowered his head, with nothing else to say: "Yes, sir."

...

On the road back to town, the rain picked up.

But Le Wuya didn't open the treasure umbrella he'd gotten.

He carried the umbrella horizontally across his shoulders, chest out, head high, lifting his gaze to the storm clouds churning across the sky. In his heart, there was not a trace of uncertainty about the road ahead, and his bright, blazing eyes now held the dying embers of mockery.

At this moment, he no longer looked like a cunning, fierce jackdaw, but a goshawk with a stern gaze, soaring against the sky.

Yet, behind that cold, half-smiling face, Le Wuya was mulling over something mundane.

"I'm this amazing, and he didn't even see it—what a shame."

Once he got back and cleaned up, he'd write him a letter, to show him just how capable he was—capable enough to match his ambitions.

Moreover, with Wei Yixian's fate as a warning, Zhang Kai, no matter how foolish, wouldn't dare rush off to wipe out his uncle's enemies just on Le Wuya's word alone.

A sinister wind was about to blow from Tongzhou all the way to the capital.

He needed to brace himself for the coming storm of bloodshed.

...

While two letters flew from the turbulent Tongzhou to the capital, one man was already frantic as a monkey with his tail on fire.

Luan Yuqiao waited for his superiors to make their move, for the treasury doors to be thrown open, for Le Wuya's embezzlement of public goods to be exposed for all to see, and for "Tonglu Snow" to shut its doors.

By then, his meager skills would also drift out along with the dismissed embroiderers...

However, there was no word from Zhang Kai.

Luan Yuqiao grew more and more anxious. When he tried to request another meeting, Zhang Kai sent someone to find him instead, saying he'd already sent a letter to Lord Feng Long, but whether it was because Wen Ren Yue had someone backing him, the letter had sunk like a stone—no reply at all.

Zhang Kai was so sincere that Luan Yuqiao couldn't bring himself to complain, so he could only aim his pent-up fury at Le Wuya.

But before Luan Yuqiao could devise a countermeasure, after a night of rain, several of his cloth warehouses all sprang leaks.

Bolts of fabric that might have been saved were ruined beyond repair, soaked straight through.

In the warehouse reeking of mildew, Luan Yuqiao stared at the holes chopped into the roof and the daylight streaming through them, so angry his hair stood on end. He stamped his foot and cursed: "Qi Hongzhuang, you poisonous, scheming bitch!"

He paced like a caged beast among the ruined bolts and moldy fabric, grinding his teeth, his heart burning with hatred.

How could he have been so careless?!

If he'd known this would happen, he should've been more careful—he wouldn't have ended up in such a mess!

These greige fabrics, not yet dyed, were now all soaked. Even if the sky cleared right now, they'd be ruined—limp and soggy. Selling them off would only tarnish the "Jade Bridge" name!

Such a huge batch of cloth, bought at high prices, meant to be sold later—now stuck in his hands, what was he supposed to do?!

He ground his teeth, his eyes almost spitting fire, muttering curses under his breath: "That wench, in cahoots with Wen Ren Ming Ke, scheming against me! Does she think she can bring me down like this? Dream on! I'll make her pay!"

Luan Yuqiao paced back and forth, his chest so tight with rage he could barely breathe.

He stared at the warehouse full of ruined cloth, despair creeping into his grief-stricken face:

These fabrics were ruined, but he'd previously cornered the supply channels, buying up cloth at high prices, and had threatened and bribed others not to sell her any greige fabric, determined to squeeze her out. He'd already sunk several thousand taels of silver into it.

And now it was all going down the drain—money wasted?

No, he refused to accept it!

Luan Yuqiao loved money more than anything. Seeing he was about to lose everything down to the last thread, he was frantic and desperate, unable to stand another moment in the same room as that worthless cloth. He strode out.

But the moment he hit the main street, he ran into a cloth wholesaler he knew well.

The man spotted Luan Yuqiao and came over with a beaming smile.

A bad feeling rose in Luan Yuqiao's chest.

...Because the man hadn't come alone—behind him followed more than a dozen large carts covered with tarpaulins.

The wholesaler grinned as if he'd just robbed a magpie's nest. After a polite bow, he eagerly launched into pleasantries: "Brother Luan, prosperity, prosperity!"

Luan Yuqiao said nothing.

Fine raindrops pattered on the tarpaulins, further muddling his already jumbled thoughts.

The wholesaler, having come over all smiles only to be met with such a cold shoulder, naturally felt a bit put out.

But knowing Luan Yuqiao's reputation for spending big, he pretended nothing was wrong, cheerfully slapping the tarpaulin behind him, sending up a spray of water that made Luan Yuqiao's heart skip a beat: "Take a look—I've rounded up these fabrics from Congzhou, all top quality!"

Luan Yuqiao stared at him, his tone icy: "What are you doing getting fabric from Congzhou?"

The wholesaler thought to himself, obviously—everyone knows the "Jade Bridge Brand" is buying greige fabric at high prices; who wouldn't want a piece of that?

Even if there was no cloth, they'd weave it fresh for you!

But that was better left unsaid, so the wholesaler stuck to the pleasantries: "Brother Luan, who are you? You're Luan Yuqiao, the top dog in Tongzhou's dyeing and printing trade! These days, word has spread through all the nearby towns and counties that Tongzhou's 'Jade Bridge Brand' is planning something big—buying cloth at high prices. Where cloth used to sell for four or five qian of silver a bolt, Brother Luan would pay six or seven! So the looms for miles around have all been running nonstop. Let me give you a heads-up: this is just the first batch. Plenty more cloth is on its way to Tongzhou, just waiting for you to accept it!"

At this, Luan Yuqiao's legs buckled, and he nearly collapsed right there in the street.

The wholesaler was startled and hurried over to steady this golden goose: "What's wrong? What happened?"

Luan Yuqiao's head spun, his chest ached, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He could see it now—this was a setup!

At this point, if he said he didn't want the cloth, these people hoping to make a fortune off him would grab hold of him, refusing to let go and demanding compensation.

But the cloth had already arrived; there was no way they'd haul it all the way back.

Just the round-trip tolls and the losses along the way would wipe them out!

By then, these greige fabrics shipped to Tongzhou could only be sold in Tongzhou.

Besides, heaven was on Qi Hongzhuang's side—these fabrics couldn't be stored for long.

To get rid of them fast, the price of greige fabric would inevitably plummet to rock bottom.

Cloth worth half a tael of silver a bolt would probably have to go for a mere qian!

This relentless spring rain, precious as oil, wasn't content with soaking his cloth—it had to add fuel to the fire, determined to burn him to the ground!

At that thought, Luan Yuqiao felt like ten thousand needles were piercing his heart. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, clenched his jaw, and fell backward with a thud, out cold.