082 Happily Becoming Brothers-in-Law?

Chapter 82: Happily Becoming Brothers-in-Law?

At last, the final sliver of sunlight slipped behind the mountains.

In the encroaching dusk, Mu Zhijin could still see, with utmost clarity, the earnestness burning in the eyes of the sizable crowd before him.

Marry? Miss Zhu?

His mind had yet to unravel the deeper meaning behind their words, but his gaze immediately darkened, and a natural air of authority arose. “This is the county yamen. By order of the Second Prince, I serve as acting county magistrate, overseeing population, security, and disputes. However, I have no jurisdiction over your marriage proposals. Please, all of you, return home.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Mu Zhijin turned to leave.

A widow is a widow—calling her ‘Miss’ won’t magically restore her maidenhood. Fools, the lot of them.

“Your Excellency, but this is a population matter!” Suddenly, the head of Zhou Shipping, Zhou Dashan, called out to halt Mu Zhijin. “I, Zhou Dashan, am twenty-two this year. Why have I never married? Because, in my youth, a sage once advised me: if the Zhou family’s shipping business is to remain prosperous, I must wed the woman with the greatest Buddhist affinity as my principal wife, to bless the household and ensure fortune. Yet, for twenty-two years, I have found no such woman—until today!”

Mu Zhijin’s steps froze.

Zhou Shipping was the principal artery of the salt trade in Ping City—one of the key reasons why private salt had yet to be converted into government salt in Yao Tian. Twenty years ago, someone had laid the groundwork for seizing control of the salt routes by disguising himself as a fortune-teller, bestowing this false prophecy: “To safeguard your family’s livelihood, you must marry the woman with the greatest Buddhist affinity as your principal wife.”

The woman with the greatest Buddhist affinity? Who could surpass a monk? But how could a monk be a wife, especially now, with Taoism rising and monks growing ever scarcer? The ruse ensured that the Zhou family would never find a suitable principal wife, and, once their line was broken, Zhou Shipping would splinter, making it far easier for the authorities to take control and convert private salt to official.

But no one predicted the sudden appearance of Fang Rulai.

Now, the most ‘Buddhist’ woman was not only a woman, but also eligible to be a principal wife...

Mu Zhijin turned back just in time to see Zhou Dashan, bare-chested and exuberant, exclaiming, “Heaven has not forsaken my family! At last, Heaven allows the Zhou clan to flourish and grow! Your Excellency, as the head of a family that contributes nearly half of Ping City’s taxes, I am confident I can provide your cousin with a life of luxury. Please, grant permission for your cousin, Miss Fang, to marry me!”

Miss Fang—this was Fang Rulai, who that very morning had claimed to be Miss Zhu Xishi’s cousin before the Daoist priest Xiao Shi. And as for himself, having publicly proclaimed, “Let us marry,” to Zhu Xishi, that would make him Fang Rulai’s brother-in-law.

Thus Zhou Dashan had come, quite righteously, to ask his “brother-in-law” for permission to marry his “cousin.” The request sounded reasonable on the surface, but Mu Zhijin’s instincts caught a whiff of conspiracy.

The salt route token was now in Fang Rulai’s hands. The plan had been to visit Old Master Zhao the following day, and, under his guidance, reclaim the network of influence that came with the token. But before they could even finish resting, the other party had come knocking.

This proposal—was it truly faith in the old prophecy, or a ploy to use marriage as a smokescreen to acquire the token? If he refused outright, would it sour relations and make winning over the salt traders all the harder?

Mu Zhijin had once endured humiliation for the Second Prince’s ambition, spending three years disguising himself at the House of Chu. Now, to ensure a smooth transfer of power over the salt trade, he could just as well sacrifice one of his own for the greater good.

In pursuit of ultimate victory, all temporary indignities along the way became acts of noble endurance.

Most importantly, it was not Miss Zhu they were seeking.

So, what was there to refuse?

He glanced into the distance at Guan Shiyin, bounding swiftly toward them, and spoke quickly, “Since Master Zhou is so sincere, then—”

Guan Shiyin, running, began pulling off one of his shoes.

“—I shall—”

Before Mu Zhijin could finish, a shoe, brimming with murderous intent, came whistling toward them. Mu Zhijin wisely stepped back, and the shoe struck Zhou Dashan squarely on the back of the head. With a loud “thud,” the burly man toppled over, eyes wide open.

Mu Zhijin’s face hardened. “Young Master Guan, what are you doing? How dare you strike someone in broad daylight!”

Guan Shiyin didn’t pause; barefoot, he lunged at Mu Zhijin, fury in his eyes. “Brother-in-law! How can you treat me like this? Where is this Miss Fang anyway? She’s already Mrs. Guan, isn’t she? With your duplicity, can we ever happily become brothers-in-law?”

The two men grappled fiercely.

Zhou Dashan, rubbing the back of his head, stood up. His wariness was written in his eyes, though he tried to look aggrieved. “Didn’t Miss Fang just this morning weep that she had fled here to Ping City to escape a forced marriage? How has she, in less than a day, become Young Master Guan’s wife? Your Excellency, are you deceiving me?”

Mu Zhijin jabbed his elbow into Guan Shiyin’s ribs: See? Trouble. If you’d just followed my lead and stabilized the people first, we’d have negotiated later.

Guan Shiyin butted his head toward Mu Zhijin’s nose: No! Not even a pretense of compromise! What’s mine is mine—even borrowing it is out of the question.

They scuffled on the ground.

Zhou Dashan’s gaze grew darker. Suddenly, he said, “Your Excellency, could we invite Miss Fang to speak for herself? We are all people of passion—surely, at such a time, we need not stand on ceremony. If Miss Fang herself declares she is married, we will not press the matter further.”

The crowd echoed him. “Yes, yes, let Miss Zhu come out too. Even if you are acknowledged as brother-in-law, until the wedding is held, the title is not secure. That means we all still have a chance.”

Guan Shiyin’s fingers dug mercilessly into Mu Zhijin’s nostrils: Why didn’t you send them away right at the start? See what a mess you’ve made!

Mu Zhijin twisted Guan Shiyin’s ear: I’m the magistrate! I’m supposed to be a steady, impartial official! Send them away? How, exactly? Should I revert to my old role, bat my lashes, and simper ‘Oh, you’re so annoying’ until they all leave in disgust?

Guan Shiyin locked his legs around Mu Zhijin: Better to disgust others than to disgust ourselves! They’re all waiting for your beloved to come out and be proposed to—can you bear it?

Mu Zhijin used his weight to pin Guan Shiyin: How many times must I say it? For the sake of results, what’s a little suffering in the process? Great deeds are not hindered by trifles!

The two men, usually paragons of elegance, were now rolling unceremoniously on the ground.

By the time someone fetched Fang Rulai and Zhu Xishi, both men’s faces and noses were beyond recognition.

The end of the chapter.

Yesterday’s 2,000-word update was relayed by a friend; I’ll try to post the next 2,000 by noon today. Replies to comments and acknowledgments will come when I return at noon. My apologies!

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