From the fake emperor to the concubine

The shop fell silent.

Chi Ya squatted by the door. Although he couldn't understand much of what was being said, he sensed something amiss when the words "canal transport," "Zhao family," and "capital chain" were put together. He tilted his head and glanced at Zheng Yi. Zheng Yi's expression remained unchanged, as if he were listening to a story he already knew.

"And then?" Shen Yuan asked.

"Then things went wrong." Cao Fang's voice began to hoarse. "The canal transport business was only so big to begin with. The Zhao family took half of it, and the Wang family got upset. The Wang family had been in the canal transport business in Huzhou for over a decade, with connections at all levels and in both the legitimate and underworld circles. The Wang family tried to talk to the Zhao family, but the talks broke down. The Wang family said that if the Zhao family didn't stop, they shouldn't blame the Wang family for being impolite."

Cao Fang rubbed her face.

“Your father came to see me once during that time. Just once. He sat in this chair you're sitting in now, drank three cups of my tea, and didn't say a word. When he left, he only said one sentence—'Old Cao, if anything happens in the future, please look after Yuan'er for me.'”

Cao Fang's eyes reddened again.

“I didn’t take it seriously at the time. I thought he was just getting old and starting to think about his children. Who knew... less than two months later, your family had this accident.”

Shen Yuan's lips trembled.

"Was it the Wang family who did it? Or the Zhao family?"

Cao Fang shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to inquire, but I can’t find out. In Huzhou, this matter has been completely suppressed by the authorities. The people in the yamen told me that the Shen family’s affairs were ‘jianghu grudges,’ and not under their jurisdiction. But the Shen family runs a legitimate business, so what jianghu grudges could they have?” His voice suddenly rose for a moment, then immediately fell silent again. “Later I thought, the person who could wipe out your entire family of dozens of people overnight couldn’t be an ordinary person. And the person who could suppress this matter so completely in Huzhou afterward couldn’t be an ordinary person either.”

He looked up at Shen Yuan.

“Little Yuan, this matter is much more complicated than your father thinks. Your father thought he was just helping the Zhao family make a connection, but he doesn’t know what’s tied to the other end of that connection.”

Zheng Yi had been listening silently, but then suddenly spoke up.

"Manager Cao, do you know what happened to the Zhao and Wang families after the Shen family?"

Cao Fang turned to look at Zheng Yi, her gaze now filled with scrutiny.

“The Zhao family is still in the silk business. They’ve toned down their greed on the canal transport side a bit, but the supply chain hasn’t been broken. The Wang family’s business has been affected somewhat, but their foundation hasn’t been shaken.” He paused. “Neither side has suffered any major damage. The only one that’s gone is the Shen family.”

Zheng Yi nodded, his face expressionless, but he tapped the armrest of the chair lightly twice with his hand.

Shen Yuan lowered her head, looking at her hands resting on her knees. Her hands were trembling, not terribly, but constantly shaking, as if something inside her was vibrating and she couldn't stop.

“Uncle Cao.” She looked up, her voice trembling slightly, “My father… did my father leave anything with you? A letter, a box, anything.”

Cao Fang looked at her and slowly shook her head.

"No. He has never left anything here with me."

Shen Yuan's eyes darkened slightly.

“But…” Cao Fang hesitated for a moment, “Three days before the incident, he sent someone to deliver a cartload of grain to me.”

Shen Yuan was taken aback.

"A cartload of grain?"

"Yes. A truckload of rice. It's of very good quality, with plump grains; it's top-grade Huzhou rice. The person who delivered the rice is your family's old colleague, surnamed Zhou. Do you remember him? The tall, thin one with a mole on his face."

Shen Yuan thought for a moment and nodded. She remembered. Uncle Zhou had worked as a farmhand in her house for seven or eight years. He wasn't talkative, but he was very efficient.

“Uncle Zhou said that your father asked him to deliver this cart of rice to me, saying it was to settle an old debt. But I don’t have any old debts with your father. He never owes me money; on the contrary, I owe him money.” Cao Fang frowned. “I found it strange at the time, but I didn’t think much of it. That’s just how your father is sometimes; you can never guess what he’ll do next.”

Zheng Yi's brow twitched slightly.

"What about the rice?"

Cao Fang pointed to the back of the shop.

"It's in the back warehouse. It hasn't been moved yet."

Zheng Yi glanced at Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan was also looking at him.

Their eyes met briefly in the air before looking away.

"Manager Cao, may I take a look at that cart of rice?" Zheng Yi stood up.

Cao Fang also stood up and led them through the back door of the shop into a small courtyard. The courtyard was paved with bluestone slabs, and a shed was built against the wall, under which dozens of burlap sacks were stacked neatly. There was a faint aroma of grain in the air, mixed with the damp and musty smell unique to warehouses.

Cao Fang walked to the innermost stack of sacks and patted the top one.

"These are it. Forty bags in total, two shi per bag. The quality is indeed excellent. I've been in the grain business for over ten years, and this kind of rice is not commonly seen."

Zheng Yi walked up to the sack, patted it, and then squeezed the fabric of the sack.

"Miss Shen, is it possible that your father put something in this batch of rice?"

Shen Yuan walked over and reached out to touch the burlap sack.

"I do not know."

"Let's open one bag and take a look," Zheng Yi said.

Cao Fang hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He took a small knife from the corner of the warehouse and cut open the burlap sack. White rice grains gushed out, landing on the old cloth spread on the ground. The grains were plump and uniform, white in color, and emitted a faint aroma of rice.

The three of them squatted down and turned the bag of rice over from top to bottom.

There was nothing else. Only rice.

Zheng Yi picked up a handful of rice, rubbed it in his hands, and then brought it close to his nose to smell it.

"Manager Cao, have you inspected this rice?"

"I checked it. I saw it the day Uncle Zhou delivered it; it's just ordinary rice, nothing special."

Zheng Yi put down the rice, stood up, and looked at the pile of sacks again.

"Forty bags, two shi per bag, eighty shi in total." He said slowly, "How much would eighty shi of top-quality Huzhou rice be worth back then?"

Cao Fang quickly calculated: "The market price is around one hundred and twenty taels of silver."

Zheng Yi nodded.

"How much is the old score between you and your father?"

Cao Fang thought for a moment and shook her head: "I don't have any big old debts with Huaiyuan. Occasionally he asks me to help him get some grain, it's always a small amount, a few hundred catties, at most a dozen or so taels of silver."

"So this 120 taels of silver isn't for settling old debts," Zheng Yi said.

Cao Fang looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "This is a request for your father to entrust his son to you." Zheng Yi's voice was not loud, but everyone in the courtyard could hear him clearly. "Your father knew that disaster was coming. He didn't dare to tell you openly—because if he did, you might not be able to escape either, and Uncle Zhou, who helped him deliver the rice, might not be able to escape either. So he could only use this method to send a sum of money to someone you trust. It's not to settle old debts, it's for you."

Shen Yuan squatted next to the opened bag of rice, holding a handful of white rice in her hand. The rice grains leaked through her fingers and fell onto the old cloth, making a soft, rustling sound, as if someone was speaking softly.

"So...this cart of rice was the last thing my father left me..."

She didn't finish speaking.

Cao Fang's tears fell again. This time he didn't wipe them away, letting them stream down his cheeks, over his chin, and drip onto the bluestone slab.

“This child…” His voice was broken and incoherent, “This child…”

Zheng Yi stood in front of the pile of sacks, looking at the neatly stacked rice sacks, and remained silent for a long time.

"Manager Cao, don't touch this batch of rice for now. Leave it where it is, and don't tell anyone who asks that it's from the Shen family." He turned to look at Cao Fang. "Also, please don't tell anyone about what happened in Huzhou. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that people outside don't know that Miss Shen is still alive."

Cao Fang wiped her face hard with her sleeve and nodded vigorously.

"I know. I won't tell anyone. Not even my wife."

Chi Ya squatted on the threshold of the yard, not uttering a single word from beginning to end. He watched Cao Fang cry, watched Shen Yuan squat on the ground clutching a grain of rice in a daze, watched Zheng Yi stand silently in front of the pile of sacks. He didn't understand much, but he understood one thing—Shen Yuan's home was much bigger than the "gone" she mentioned. Not only was the house gone, but the person was gone too. Not only was the person gone, but even every trace she left in this world was about to be wiped clean.

That night, Cao Fang invited them to stay at his residence.

The mansion wasn't large, with two courtyards. The front courtyard housed the grain shop and warehouse, while the back courtyard was for living quarters. Cao Fang gave the main room to Shen Yuan, while she, Zheng Yi, and Chi Ya squeezed into the east wing. Chi Ya slept on the floor, Cao Fang slept on the bed, and Zheng Yi sat on a chair by the door, leaning against the door panel, sleeping soundly like that.

Before turning off the light, Cao Fang stood in front of the bed and hesitated for a long time.

"Young Master Zheng."

"Ah."

"What do you plan to do about Yuan's matter?"

In the darkness, Zheng Yi's voice was calm: "First, let's get to the bottom of this. Who did it, why, and who's behind it? Once we've figured it out, then we can decide how to repay them."

Cao Fang remained silent in the darkness for a long time before finally saying, "Get some rest," and lying down.

Chiya rolled over on the ground, facing the wall, and soon started snoring.

Zheng Yi did not sleep.

He moved the chair half an inch, leaned against the door, and closed his eyes. The courtyard was quiet, with the occasional chirp of an insect that would stop after a couple of chirps, as if testing something. A cool breeze slipped in through the crack in the door, carrying the sweet-bitter scent of osmanthus blossoms just before they faded.

He listened to the sounds all night.

Nothing at all.

The next day, Cao Fang took Zheng Yi for a stroll around the city. They didn't dare go to any particularly crowded places, just walked along a few streets in the east of the city, looked at a few shops, and overheard some gossip. The Shen family wasn't mentioned in the gossip. It was as if the Shen family had been completely eradicated from Huzhou's memory, wiped clean, leaving not even a trace.

Zheng Yi noticed something—there were more soldiers on the street.

They weren't government officials, they were soldiers. The kind who wore armor, with swords at their waists, walking back and forth in groups of three to five. When one group walked past Zheng Yi, the leader glanced at him, his gaze lingering on his face for less than a second before looking away.

Zheng Yi memorized that person's face.

It was already evening when they returned to the Cao residence. Cao Fang's wife was busy in the kitchen, simmering a pot of pork rib soup with winter bamboo shoots. The delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen all the way to the front yard. Chi Ya, smelling the fragrance, ran to the kitchen doorway and squatted down. Cao Fang's wife was startled and almost dropped the spatula.

Shen Yuan sat on the stone steps in the backyard, a thin blanket draped over her legs, holding a bowl of hot tea in her hands. Her complexion was much better than when she was in Beining City. The scabs on her face had fallen off, revealing pink new flesh underneath, leaving a thin, curved mark on the side of her face, as if someone had drawn a faint arc on her face with a pen.

Zheng Yi sat down next to her, with two fists' distance between them.

How are you feeling today?

"Much better." Shen Yuan turned the teacup around. "It still hurts a little when I press on my ribs, but it doesn't hurt when I don't move it."

Zheng Yi nodded.

"There are more soldiers on the streets."

Shen Yuan paused for a moment, causing the water in the teacup to slosh.

"They're after us?"

"Not necessarily. But it doesn't hurt to be careful."

Shen Yuan lowered her head, looking at a single tea leaf floating in the bowl. The tea leaf drifted on the surface of the water, circled once, and then floated back.

“Uncle Cao is a very nice person,” she suddenly said.

Zheng Yi glanced at her.

"I know."

"I mean... he's genuinely good to me. It's not fake."

Zheng Yi remained silent for a moment.

"I know," he said again, his tone a little stronger than before.

Shen Yuan didn't say anything more, picked up the teacup and took a sip. The tea had gone cold, she frowned, and put the bowl down.

That night, Zheng Yi still slept in the chair.

He pulled the dagger from his boot and placed it on his knee, one hand resting on the hilt. He didn't tell anyone why he did it, and no one asked him. Shen Yuan kept the light on in the main room, and it stayed on for a long time before going out. Chi Ya rolled around on the floor twice, wrapped the blanket around himself like a spring roll, mumbled something, and then fell into a deep sleep again.

Cao Fang tossed and turned in bed for a long time, finally letting out a soft sigh and falling still.

Zheng Yi closed his eyes, the hilt of the dagger warmed by his body heat in his palm.

In the middle of the night, he heard the sound of horses' hooves.

Not just one horse, but many. The sound of horses' hooves pounding on the stone pavement was rapid and dense, like someone beating a large drum in the distance, the beats getting closer and heavier, making the ground tremble slightly.

Zheng Yi opened his eyes in the darkness.

He didn't move. He gripped the dagger tightly and listened intently—the sound of horses' hooves stopped at the alley entrance, followed by footsteps, the footsteps of many people, boots striking the ground in unison, as if made by a single person. Someone was giving orders in low voices, not loud, but carrying far in the quiet night.

He stood up, walked to the window, and poked a small hole in the window paper with two fingers.

There was nothing in the courtyard. It was calm and dark, with the faint moonlight reflecting off the stone slabs.

But there were lights outside the courtyard wall. Not just one or two, but many, their orange-red glow reflecting above the wall and turning half the sky a dark red. (End of Chapter)