Volume One: Wandering Freely in a World of Uncertainties Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Pawn Ticket

Amidst the sea of mournful sighs and complaints, Gu Qinghan had already regained her composure. She spoke calmly, “You may all rest assured. Since the fire started at the pawnshop, any losses you have suffered will naturally be compensated in full by the Marquis’s household.”

Upon hearing this, relief immediately lit up the faces around her.

“Each of you should return to tally the losses your shops have sustained. Once everything is confirmed, the Marquis’s household will reimburse you down to the last copper coin,” Gu Qinghan continued, her elegant features tinged with fatigue. “This fire came without warning and has implicated you all. For that, I am truly sorry.”

One of the men laughed and replied, “With your word, Third Madam, everything will be sorted out. In truth, my losses aren’t too great—at most three to four thousand taels of silver altogether.” He glanced back at the ruins, sighing, “A single inferno has turned our shops to ashes. Trying to tally everything will be no easy task.”

“Indeed, Master Lu speaks true. All the account books have burned to nothing; it’s truly hard to make an accurate reckoning,” someone nearby chimed in. “Still, each of us has a good idea of what we’ve lost. It’s hard to be exact, but an estimate will suffice. We respect the Marquis of Brocade and have no wish to quibble over a little loss.”

“It is greatly appreciated that you feel this way,” Yang Ning interjected as the crowd sighed and muttered. He approached, composed and unhurried. “Third Madam has already said it: your losses will be made whole by the Marquis’s household. Since this has implicated you, we will not let you suffer further.”

At once, someone who recognized Yang Ning as the heir to the Marquisate said, “With the young master’s assurance, everyone can rest easy.”

Yang Ning turned to Master Lu, smiling, “Master Lu, did you say your shop’s losses amount to three or four thousand taels of silver?”

“About that,” Master Lu replied quickly. “But you needn’t worry, Young Master. Our shops have been neighbors for years; with the Marquis’s household in trouble, we naturally shoulder some of the burden as well.”

Yang Ning smiled. “Thank you for your understanding. Master Lu, what is your line of business?”

“Oh?” Master Lu answered, “It’s a salt shop.”

Yang Ning was momentarily taken aback—wasn’t salt a government monopoly? From what he knew, the authorities had Salt Bureaus throughout the realm, managing the transport and sale of salt. Private dealings in salt were strictly forbidden and carried severe penalties if discovered.

Could it be that Master Lu was a government-sanctioned salt merchant?

“So it’s a salt shop,” Yang Ning said, half-smiling. “Do you usually store much salt in your shop, Master Lu?” His gaze sharpened as he turned to Manager Xu beside him. “Manager Xu, since Master Lu’s shop is next door, you must know him well.”

Manager Xu, pale and distraught, snapped to attention at Yang Ning’s question. “I’ve known Master Lu for six or seven years now,” he stammered.

“Manager Xu, is Master Lu’s shop larger than our pawnshop?”

Manager Xu had no idea what Yang Ning was getting at. He glanced at Gu Qinghan, who remained cold and impassive, and finally answered, “Master Lu’s shop is only about half the size of ours.”

“How much did our shop cost us when we purchased it?” Yang Ning pressed.

Manager Xu looked again to Gu Qinghan, but she, quick-witted as ever, had already grasped Yang Ning’s intent. “This shop is in a prime location. When we acquired it, it cost six hundred taels of silver.”

Yang Ning turned to Master Lu and asked with a smile, “And Master Lu, how much did your shop cost?”

Master Lu, shrewd as any merchant, caught Yang Ning’s drift with just a few words and avoided replying, his gaze evasive.

“Even now, it would fetch at most four hundred taels,” Manager Xu interjected, having gathered his wits. “That’s the highest price. Master Lu, I recall that last year someone offered three hundred taels for your shop and you nearly accepted.”

Master Lu replied awkwardly, “Well… the shop itself is only worth a few hundred taels, but the salt in the shop—”

“Of course, you wouldn’t store antiques or paintings in a salt shop, so there’s little risk of anything particularly valuable having burned,” Yang Ning said, his expression turning stern. “Even if I don’t know the exact price of salt, you claim a loss of three or four thousand taels. Subtracting the shop, that leaves two to three thousand taels. Just how much salt would that buy?”

The other merchants present, all seasoned in business, eyed Master Lu’s embarrassment with a hint of schadenfreude. They thought to themselves, ‘You tried to inflate your losses, but the Marquis’s heir exposed you in just a few words. We want our due, but there’s no point in exaggerating.’

They knew full well that although salt was essential, its price was low—thin profit by high volume. Not to mention thousands of taels, even five or six hundred would fill a salt shop to bursting, and no salt merchant would ever keep such a large stock. All told, Master Lu’s losses could not possibly exceed a thousand taels.

Yang Ning, having made his point, didn’t press Master Lu further. He looked around at the assembled shopkeepers. “I deeply regret that you’ve all been caught up in this. None of us wished for such a disaster, but now that it’s happened, the Marquis’s household will not shirk its responsibility in the slightest. As Third Madam has said, you will not lose a single coin. The principle of the Marquis’s household has always been to pay what is owed.” Here his tone turned cold. “But if anyone seeks to take advantage of the situation, I advise you to dismiss that thought at once. The Marquis’s household may owe no man a debt, but if someone owes us, I fear it will not bode well for them.”

Several shopkeepers exchanged glances. In their hearts, they thought, ‘They say the Marquis’s heir is a fool, but clearly that’s not the case.’

“Well said!” A mocking laugh rang out from behind Yang Ning, a voice laced with sarcasm. “Debts must be repaid—that is the family tradition of the Marquises of Brocade. It is gratifying to see the heir uphold it.”

Yang Ning turned to see several men striding forward. The one in the lead stood tall, with a sword at his waist, its scabbard wrapped in gold thread and a jade ornament dangling from the tassel—a picture of refined elegance, no more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old.

Yang Ning did not recognize him. Judging by his attire, he was plainly the son of an official, though from where he had come was unclear.

He stepped forward, studying Yang Ning with a smile. “Young Master, it’s been some time. I heard you were kidnapped recently—I was quite concerned. Later, I heard you returned safe and sound—good news indeed.” His eyes flickered toward Gu Qinghan, brightening. He stepped closer to her and saluted politely. “And this must be the Third Madam of the Marquis’s household?”

Gu Qinghan, evidently unfamiliar with him, frowned. “And you are?”

“I am Dou Lianzhong, son of Dou Kui,” he replied with a squinting smile, his gaze traveling up and down Gu Qinghan, unable to look away.

“Oh, so you are the son of Lord Dou,” Gu Qinghan answered coolly. “It is late—may I ask what brings you here, Young Master Dou?”

Yang Ning studied Dou Lianzhong as well, thinking to himself that the man fairly radiated a rakish air. The way his eyes roved over Gu Qinghan’s shapely figure made it clear he was up to no good.

“This fire was quite the spectacle,” Dou Lianzhong said, glancing at the charred remains. He sighed. “Third Madam, do you know where it started? Could it be that it began in your pawnshop?”

Gu Qinghan’s expression turned icy. “And how did you know the fire started in the pawnshop, Young Master Dou?”

Dou Lianzhong quickly smiled. “Don’t misunderstand, Third Madam. I have no gift of foresight. But just now the Young Master spoke of compensation, so I assumed the other shops were affected because of yours.” He scanned the crowd, then said, “Is there anything I can do to help, Third Madam?”

“That will not be necessary,” Gu Qinghan replied coolly. “The affairs of the Marquis’s household are not for others to meddle in, though your concern is noted.”

“Please, don’t stand on ceremony,” Dou Lianzhong insisted, stepping closer to Gu Qinghan. “The Young Master and I are close friends. His concerns are mine. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask. We are all family, after all—there’s no need for formality.”

Yang Ning, sensing there was some old grudge between this man and himself, watched Dou Lianzhong edge ever closer to Gu Qinghan. Suddenly, Yang Ning reached out, seized Dou Lianzhong’s wrist, and yanked him forcefully aside, putting space between him and Gu Qinghan.

Dou Lianzhong’s face flushed with anger, but Yang Ning maintained his grip and laughed, “So it’s you. Out in the middle of the night—are you really here to help?”

Dou Lianzhong, seeing Yang Ning’s smiling face, couldn’t make a scene. He tried to pull free, only to find Yang Ning’s grip like an iron shackle, causing him pain. He frowned. “Let go.”

“What, so soon to turn on a friend?” Yang Ning grinned. “Didn’t you just say we were close? Can’t even handle a handshake?”

Dou Lianzhong’s face darkened. “Even brothers keep clear accounts. I’m here on business—let go of my hand.” He tugged again, and this time Yang Ning released him. “What business is that?” Yang Ning asked.

Dou Lianzhong shot Yang Ning a look of distaste, then turned to Gu Qinghan. “Third Madam, I was passing by a nearby street earlier when I heard about the fire. I hurried here, worried your pawnshop would be lost. Seems my fears were justified—just look at it.” He shook his head and sighed.

“Young Master Dou, I have much to attend to here. If you truly have business, speak plainly. If not, I must ask you to leave,” Gu Qinghan said coldly.

Dou Lianzhong reached into his sleeve and drew out a thick stack of papers, which he shook proudly in his hand. “Third Madam, take a look—aren’t these your pawnshop’s tickets?” He handed them over. Gu Qinghan took them, leafed through, her brows furrowing further. She looked up. “These are indeed our pawn tickets. Why are they in your possession?”

“You must be joking, Third Madam,” Dou Lianzhong replied with a laugh. “If I pawned something with your shop, of course I’d have the tickets in hand!”