Chapter 395 Clan—The Tycoon

Chapter 395: Clan - Tycoon

The Shijian Relay Station originated from Lingnan and had now partnered with the imperial court, temporarily falling under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Works, which handled the most miscellaneous affairs. Once fully constructed, it would even extend northward in the future.

Yangzhou, being a vital hub for commerce and trade across the realm, saw thriving water transport. The Shijian Relay Station kept pace with the times by utilizing boat transport, sharing a dock called Qingzhang Wharf with three other merchant shipping companies.

The station's storefront sat right at the city gate. Through the bustling gateway, one could see among the merchant vessels docked outside the city that several small and medium-sized ships flew the banner of the Shijian Relay Station.

Withdrawing his gaze, Meng Wan looked at the familiar sign before him and calmly took a bite of his bun. Yangzhou's three-ingredient buns were a local specialty—chicken, diced pork, and bamboo shoots mixed together, seasoned with shrimp juice and chicken broth. Each bite delivered both the savory richness of the meat filling and the refreshing sweetness of bamboo shoots, complemented by mouthwatering, umami-rich juices...

Fang Jinrong had been silent for a while, focusing on devouring his buns just as intently as Chi Yu.

"This is your relay station, isn't it? Aren't we going in?" Fang Jinrong tucked away the remaining two buns to bring back for Ge Quan to taste. Young Master Wan sure knows how to find good spots—far better than the bun shops they'd found on their previous trip to Yangzhou.

Meng Wan hadn't finished his buns either, with a few still left in the oil-paper wrapper. He leisurely wiped his hands with a handkerchief. "Not going in yet. Let's scope it out first."

The Yangzhou relay station hadn't been open long, and with its Lingnan freight foundation and established transport channels, even if it didn't turn a profit, it should at least break even.

Meng Wan hadn't expected the Yangzhou station to break into the market immediately—breaking even would suffice. But when Tang Jinshuang and the others had passed through on their way to and from Shengjing and inspected the stations along the route, they'd reported that the Yangzhou station was running at a loss? Well, that's curious.

Meng Wan's striking appearance made him stand out even in plain clothes. Someone approached and asked, "Whose household do you belong to? You look unfamiliar around here."

Stepping a few paces away in the opposite direction from Chi Yu, Meng Wan put on a radiant smile. "Ma'am, my family lives north of the city. My husband's father works at the relay station up ahead. We made some buns at home, and I wanted to bring him a few, but I haven't seen anyone come out for quite a while. I didn't dare knock on the door, so I've been waiting here."

The old woman looked in the direction he indicated. "That relay station you mentioned? Tell your father-in-law to find another job soon—that place is on its last legs. There are plenty of places in Yangzhou that'll hire a worker. As long as you have strength, you won't lose your livelihood."

Meng Wan: "..."

Meng Wan's eye gave a slight twitch. He obediently replied, "Thank you for your concern, ma'am."

Watching the old woman walk away clutching her handkerchief, the smile faded from Meng Wan's face.

About to go under?

Meng Wan had no intention of going in that day. He hung around the station, buying snacks when hungry, resting at teahouses when thirsty or tired, and in the afternoon even went out to stroll around Qingzhang Wharf.

Fang Jinrong didn't get bored—shopping, chatting with Meng Wan, he stuck with him all day without a single complaint about his feet.

In the afternoon, the three returned to their temporary courtyard to find that neither Ge Quan nor Song Tingzhou was there.

"Wasn't that supposed to be a midday banquet? Why isn't it over yet?" Unlike Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou, who were used to frequent separations, Fang Jinrong had rarely been apart from Ge Quan, though they often left the old man and kids behind to roam the martial world together as a couple.

Zhifan and Zhimao, who had stayed home, said, "After noon, our master sent word that he would be going to the government office with Lord Ge to handle official business and would return later. They said not to wait for them for dinner."

"Who came to deliver the message? Was it one of our people?" Meng Wan frowned slightly and pressed further.

Zhifan quickly nodded. "It was Eleven. That's all he said, word for word."

Meng Wan hummed in acknowledgment but remained uneasy. "Chi Yu, go next door and check if Qiao Xingyuan is there."

If Song Tingzhou needed to review the Yangzhou prefectural government's administrative records, he would definitely bring Qiao Xingyuan along.

"Right away, dear." Chi Yu didn't even bother with the door—he vaulted over the wall to the neighboring courtyard and returned within moments. "Dear, Lord Qiao isn't there. They said Lord Song called him to the government office."

Only then did Meng Wan finally relax.

Fang Jinrong watched the whole exchange, utterly bewildered. "You're kidding, right? With Ge Quan there, how could anything happen to your husband?"

Meng Wan's eyes darkened. "Brother Ge is second to none in martial arts, but one man's bravery can't hold off an army. The Emperor holds the entire realm—all of Yu is his—yet even he is extremely wary of the entrenched southern clans. That alone shows how formidable these people are. We're on their home ground, so we can't be too careful. Jinrong, don't underestimate anyone, or you'll regret it."

Fang Jinrong looked up at the darkening sky and wiped the fine sweat from his nose. "Listening to you, it sounds like we've walked into a tiger's den. So what do we do? Will some idiot cause trouble while Lord Song is handling business?"

Meng Wan sat at the octagonal table, chin resting on his hand, and sighed softly. "Not just one—more than a few, actually. Who knows what schemes they're plotting against Song Tingzhou. Their methods are sure to be sneaky and underhanded."

When Fang Jinrong and Ge Quan wandered the martial world, they mostly encountered thugs and bullies who preyed on the weak. There were schemers too, but nothing as over-the-top as what Meng Wan described.

He also knew that the sneaky tricks of rich families could kill without drawing blood—not like jianghu wanderers who avenged wrongs openly and settled scores face-to-face.

"Then what? Should we get some defenses ready?" Even someone as easygoing as Fang Jinrong couldn't help worrying about Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou's situation.

Having gone hungry all day, Meng Wan first called for Zhifan to serve the meal, then pushed the plate of dried fruits toward Fang Jinrong, his tone carrying a serious edge. "You can watch for thieves every day, but you can't watch forever. If someone is determined to scheme against you, even being prepared in advance won't help—who knows where they'll come at you from?"

Fang Jinrong popped a candied fruit into his mouth. The sweet taste slightly soothed the nagging worry that Meng Wan's words had stirred. "We can't just sit around and do nothing and let ourselves be pushed around."

Meng Wan chuckled softly, instantly cutting through the tension that had hung around him. He rubbed his own legs and said lazily, "So to avoid being schemed against, the only way is to scheme against others first."

Fang Jinrong's dried fruit dropped onto the table. He stared in confusion, unable to comprehend what Meng Wan meant.

What did it mean that to avoid being schemed against, you had to scheme against others first?

Just because you guessed someone might come after you, you strike first?

It suddenly reminded him of some guy from history...

Since Song Tingzhou had said not to wait, neither Meng Wan nor Fang Jinrong were the type to make a fuss about eating together. As soon as the meal was set, they both dug in.

Zhifan and Zhimao had prepared a few simple home-style dishes. Having been out all day, they were famished and found everything delicious.

It wasn't until the moon was high in the sky, with Meng Wan nearly falling asleep in the bath barrel, that steady footsteps finally were heard at the door.

Meng Wan sneezed, rubbed his nose, and got up to put on his sleep clothes before opening the door for Song Tingzhou.

"Back?"

Song Tingzhou's face had carried a trace of fatigue, but the moment he saw Meng Wan, his gaze immediately softened. "Why are you just now taking a bath?"

Meng Wan turned to find a cloth to dry his hair. "I accidentally fell asleep in the tub. Haven't you eaten yet? There are three-ingredient buns on the table that I bought during the day."

Song Tingzhou wanted to embrace him first, but fearing his sweat would bother Meng Wan, he ate the buns first, then bathed and changed.

By the time he returned to bed, Meng Wan was already asleep.

He pulled him into his arms, tenderly stroked the strands of hair falling by Meng Wan's cheek, pressed two kisses to his face, and closed his eyes as well.

—

While they slept soundly, there were those in Yangzhou city who couldn't rest easy.

"I'd long heard that this Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture enjoys the Emperor's deep trust, but I didn't expect him to be so watertight. This could be troublesome."

Seven or eight people sat in the rear hall of the Yangzhou prefectural government. The speaker was an elderly man with white hair—his status unclear, but even Cao Jinfang listened to him with utmost respect from a lower seat.

A younger man added, "Uncle, he's not just the Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture. Sanlang sent word that Song Tingzhou has already assumed the position of Vice Minister of Justice. To climb to such heights at such a young age shows his methods and abilities are not to be underestimated."

That said, there was not a ripple of emotion in the man's eyes. Nor was he alone—everyone else in the hall wore the same calm, composed expression.

"What did he do at the government office today?" Another elder seated at the opposite end asked the silent Cao Jinfang.

Cao Jinfang, still in his old robe, rose and bowed respectfully. "Lord Lou, today he reviewed the fish-scale land registers and the yellow registers at the government office."

The old man surnamed Lou chuckled self-deprecatingly, "What's all this 'Your Excellency' business? I've long since washed my hands of court affairs. Song Tingzhou served as County Magistrate for three years in Lingnan, Assistant Prefect for one year, Prefect for two years, and Provincial Governor for half a year. With all that experience and the way he's turned Lingnan around, it's no wonder the Emperor entrusts him with implementing the new policies. Besides the land registers, did he also ask you for the annual tax ledgers from previous years?"

The annual tax ledgers recorded past farmland declarations and tax payment records, making it easy to spot which households paid no taxes or low rates—the key to rolling out the equal-field decree.

Cao Jinfang understood the old man's implication and replied cautiously, "He did ask, and I made excuses to put him off, but I'm afraid I can only hold him off for a few days."

These old-timers represented Yangzhou's centuries-old aristocratic clans, some of whom had themselves served as Imperial Officials. Any one of them could shake the entire city. Cao Jinfang, a full Prefect no less, had to bow and scrape before them, whether for face or for power.

"Hold him off, even if it's a losing battle. The annual tax ledgers must not fall into his hands—at least not for now."

"We shouldn't act directly in this matter. Let those young bucks who kowtow to you go raise some hell first. Let him get a taste of what Yangzhou can do and learn that some places aren't his to meddle with."

"Rattle him first, and he'll show his cracks. Once there are cracks, everything becomes easier."

The old man surnamed Lou walked to the window, gazing at the heavy night outside, his aged, hoarse voice echoing from behind him.

"The waters of Yangzhou aren't so easy to navigate."

Cao Jinfang broke into a cold sweat. After seeing off these heavy hitters, he didn't rest. He immediately sent trusted aides to summon another group. It wasn't until the wee hours that the second group slipped out of the yamen.

---

Along both banks of the Yangzhou canal stood countless splendid buildings, forming a beautiful nightscape. Among them, a restaurant occupying the prime location bore a banner reading "Qian's Restaurant" hanging limp in the night air.

This establishment belonged to the Qian family, salt merchants in the city. The surroundings were silent, and the loud argument from upstairs was unusually clear in the night. Unfortunately, guards were posted at both front and back of the restaurant, and aside from a few early-morning vendors who caught a distant glimpse while setting up their stalls, no one could approach.

"What's this Song fellow's background? He turns down people as gifts, and won't touch gold, silver, or antiques. Is this guy really without a single flaw?"

The speaker was Qian Wanguan, the leading salt merchant in Yangzhou. He paced anxiously in his study, the tea in the blue-and-white cup with autumn sunflowers on the pricey sandalwood table had long gone cold. Piles of opened secret letters sat on the table, written in neat, standard regular script—every stroke by the book, no sharpness, no slant, deliberately scrubbed of any personal style, the very picture of bland, cookie-cutter handwriting.

He wasn't alone in the room. Another man in a purple robe pointed at the letters on the table. "Haven't you already figured out who this guy is, Brother Qian? Vice Minister of Justice at the second rank, Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture, the Emperor's fair-haired boy, holding down several top posts. Can't you see it yet? Those imperial guards around him are sent by the Emperor to back him up. He's even been granted the imperial sword—this is a signal that anyone who steps out of line gets chopped down on the spot!"

A middle-aged scholar in a blue long gown, unconsciously stroking his sleeve cuff, pondered, "Brothers Qian and Cheng, why rush? The equal-field policy won't be accomplished overnight. Why not just wait him out? Nobody's perfect. As long as he's on our turf in Yangzhou, how can we not find something on him?"

Qian Wanguan sneered, "Brother Wan speaks lightly. Your Wan family can just register those tea mountains under your clansmen's names, and letting go of your stashed land won't hurt your business. But our Qian family has over a thousand mouths to feed, relying on salt to support land and land to consolidate power. You all heard what this Song said today—under the new policy, each person can hold at most ten mu of registered land, and every extra mu doubles the land tax! Which of our three families doesn't hold tens of thousands of mu of prime land? If we truly paid those taxes, three generations of our savings wouldn't be enough to compensate the court!"

"If your Qian family, with all its wealth, cries poverty, then our Cheng family, earning hard-earned money, can we afford it?" Besides the Qians, the Chengs dealt in silk, controlling nearly all of Yangzhou's silk trade. With mulberry fields feeding the silk industry, they held the most hoarded land among the three families.

The scholarly Wan was no less anxious. He sighed, "We're already wealthy and influential in Yangzhou, but we still have to kowtow to those above. If you two brothers lose your composure, our three families will merely be fish in a pond caught in a struggle between two sides. No matter the era, there's never a shortage of small players like us falling."

Moreover, the Qian, Cheng, and Wan families weren't even among the great clans. No matter how rich, they couldn't compare to those truly aristocratic houses.

Hearing this, Master Cheng also felt disheartened. "Brother Wan makes a fair point. We earn our living through trade, and even when we manage to raise a clever son, he has to be adopted out to another family just to sit for the imperial exams. Those great clans have money, power, and relatives in office. What do we have?"

Qian Wanguan urged, "So we just do nothing?"

Master Cheng slumped into his chair. "Do nothing? When those above blame us, even that tightfisted Cao Jinfang trembles, let alone us. And as Brother Qian said, if the land is equalized, do we just give away our fields for nothing? Who among us lacks the silver to buy land?"

The common folk don't fight officials. When the great clans above clash with the court, it's the small fry who suffer. But the equal-field decree directly affects them, and failing to follow orders from above leaves them caught in the middle, pleasing no one.

As dawn threatened to break, the three sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After a long pause, Qian Wanguan said, "For now, we can't offend those old fogies. Since we can't find a flaw in Song Tingzhou himself, let's start with the people around him."

Master Cheng agreed, "That's the only way. At least Yangzhou is our turf. If we can't do it openly, we'll do it in the shadows."

Master Wan stroked his beard. "I understand what you two brothers mean."