The number one sycophant of the Ming Dynasty

He had already sensed that Chen Han was no ordinary person at the banquet at Prince Yu's residence last time.

After hearing Chen Yiqin's account today, he became even more convinced that this young man was hiding his true intentions far more deeply than any of them had imagined.

What he said today are all methods that "don't make mistakes," not methods that "determine the outcome in one move."

Given Chen Han's understanding of human nature and his grasp of Jiajing's thoughts, it's impossible that he couldn't have come up with an even more ruthless plan.

He didn't say it, not because he hadn't thought of it, but because he didn't want to bring it up.

Why?

Is it a lack of trust in those present, or a desire to save this trump card for the most crucial moment to gain the greatest benefit?

Xu Jie didn't voice his thoughts, but simply smiled, his tone remaining gentle:

"Young people should leave themselves some room for maneuver when they do things; that's a good thing."

"I think what he said today is safe enough."

"For the grand winter festival, stability is always more important than brilliance."

Gao Gong immediately echoed, "Grand Secretary Xu is right! Your Highness, let's do as Chen Han says!"

"You wrote the handwritten letter yourself, and your uncle wrote the congratulatory text. I will then help you with your consideration."

"As long as we don't make any mistakes, His Highness's benevolence and filial piety will surely be recognized by His Majesty!"

Zhang Juzheng did not speak again, but simply held his teacup, his gaze fixed on a certain spot in the void, seemingly pondering something.

Xu Jie twirled the prayer beads, his smile still gentle, but the beads spun faster than before.

Chen Yiqin saw all of this, but said nothing. He simply picked up his teacup and slowly took a sip.

The warm room was quiet for a moment.

The north wind outside the window howled through the eaves, swirling dry fallen leaves that rustled against the window frame.

Prince Yu held the bronze hand warmer, gently stroking it with his fingers.

He looked at the invitation Chen Han had left on the table, and then at the different expressions of the four gentlemen, and a thought suddenly came to his mind.

What kind of person is Chen Han?

His idea was applauded by Gao Gong, Xu Jie said it was a sure thing, Zhang Juzheng said he was hiding something, and Chen Yiqin said he couldn't see through him.

Four people, four different opinions.

But no one said his idea was bad.

Prince Yu tucked the document further into his sleeve and sighed softly.

Regardless of what Chen Han's future intentions may be, at least for now, he is genuinely helping me.

This is enough.

Xu Jie put down his prayer beads, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and glanced between Zhang Juzheng and Chen Yiqin for a moment.

Finally, when it came to Prince Yu, the tone remained that of a gentle elder:

"Your Highness, I believe Supervisor Chen's plan is feasible."

"The fact that it was written in his own handwriting is especially good. His Majesty will surely understand His Highness's intentions once he sees it."

Gao Gong immediately chimed in, "I think it's a good idea too! Your Highness, please do it this way! If there's anything I can help with, I'll be there whenever you call!"

Zhang Juzheng nodded slightly without saying a word.

Chen Yiqin also held a teacup, his expression unchanged.

Prince Yu glanced at the four gentlemen and finally showed his first relaxed smile of the day: "Alright. It's settled then."

……

Baoxiangzhai's shop is located south of Dongsi Archway.

The storefront consists of three shops facing the street, with a black lacquered and gilded plaque above the door bearing the three large characters "Baoxiangzhai".

It is the handwriting of Xia Yan, the Minister of Rites in the early years of the Jiajing reign.

With just this plaque, the Qin family firmly secured their position as the most prestigious business family in the capital.

Qin Ruolan was sitting in the accounting room in the backyard of the shop, flipping through a thick ledger.

She wore a light purple jacket made of Songjiang Sanshuo cloth, a new fabric from this year.

It wasn't the most expensive item, but it was tailored perfectly, making her waist look slender.

She wore only a plain silver plum blossom hairpin in her hair, and her earrings were two freshwater pearls the size of rice pearls.

She was quiet and unassuming, without a trace of the vulgarity of a merchant's daughter, but rather like a young lady from a scholarly family.

But her eyes were incredibly sharp.

She could spot anything wrong with just a glance at the densely packed, tiny numbers in the ledger.

The sandalwood purchased by the Guanglu Temple last month cost 3.2 qian per jin and sold for 4.5 qian.

The price difference is one qian and three fen of silver per jin, and with a total of three hundred jin, the gross profit should be thirty-nine taels.

However, the second-in-command who handled the matter only reported thirty-five taels of silver, which was four taels less than expected.

She didn't make a fuss, but instead placed a tiny red dot next to the second manager's name with a vermilion pen.

Four taels of silver, though not a lot, was enough for an ordinary family of five in the capital to live comfortably for two months.

She did not have a fit of anger on the spot.

It's not that I'm not annoyed, it's just that the time hasn't come yet.

The second manager's surname is Liu. She is an old colleague trained by her father, Qin Maocai, and has been working for the Qin family for more than ten years.

It's not worth turning against each other over four taels of silver.

But she kept a detailed record of the accounts, intending to settle them all at once once she had enough excuses.

Manager Qin sat in the armchair opposite, holding a teacup, watching his daughter check the accounts one by one, his face showing both relief and worry.

What's comforting is that Qin Maocai built his fortune from scratch, and although he didn't have a son, God gave him such a capable and insightful daughter.

The worry is that her daughter is too capable. She's already eighteen this year, and matchmakers have been knocking on the door of the Qin family to propose marriage, but she doesn't like any of them.

It wasn't that she looked down on her; it was that she already had a clear understanding of the situation.

Those who came to propose marriage were either the second sons or illegitimate sons of merchant families, after the Qin family's wealth;

He was either a down-on-his-luck, impoverished scholar who was after the Qin family's generous dowry;

He was either the eldest son of a minor official, after the Qin family's money, to pave his own way.

No one truly cared about Qin Ruolan as a person.

She herself wasn't in a hurry.

What's the rush?

She manages 70% of the business at Baoxiangzhai, inside and out; without her, it might not even be able to function.

Her father is over fifty years old this year, and his health is deteriorating year by year. If she gets married, who will take care of this huge family business?

"Ruolan," Qin Maocai put down his teacup, interrupting her thoughts, "the young lady from the family of Sun, the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, sent over an invitation, saying she wants to come to the shop this afternoon."

Qin Ruolan raised her head, her gaze shifting from the account book: "Sun Yue? The daughter of Sun, the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices?"

"It's her." Qin Maocai nodded. "The post says she wants to see our newly arrived batch of Nanyang sandalwood."

Qin Ruolan closed the ledger and gently tapped the cover twice with her slender white fingers.

She had dealt with Sun Yue a few times.

I met her once last year at the poetry gathering of noble ladies at Fayuan Temple, and again this year at the elegant gathering of Li Gelao's granddaughter on the Shangsi Festival.

Sun Yue is two years younger than her, and she just turned sixteen this year.

In terms of talent and learning, he is average.

In terms of appearance, she is slightly above average.

In terms of family background, her father was a sixth-rank official in the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, which was neither high nor low in the capital, a place full of noble ladies.

But Sun Yue has one good point: she doesn't put on airs or act like a daughter of an official.

Unlike some daughters of minor officials, who, despite their fathers' low rank, are arrogant and haughty.

When Sun Yue talks to people, she looks you in the eyes seriously. She is neither arrogant nor harsh, and it is very comfortable to be around her.

Therefore, Qin Ruolan was willing to associate with her.

Of course, business considerations are also involved.

Guanglu Temple was Baoxiangzhai's biggest official patron.

Forty percent of the incense, candles, and paper money used by the imperial court for its annual sacrifices, both large and small, were procured from Baoxiangzhai.

Although Sun Sicheng was a sixth-rank official, the positions of Siqing and Shaoqing of Guanglu Temple were concurrently held by officials of the Ministry of Rites. In terms of daily affairs, this Sicheng, who sat in the hall, could handle half the task.

If we cultivate a good relationship with Sun Yue, it will only benefit the Qin family and Baoxiangzhai, and will not cause any harm.

"Let her come," Qin Ruolan stood up. "I'm going to change my clothes."

……