Chapter 985 - 824: Getting Down to Business

On the Qinhuai River, ten miles of lamps and flames, ears filled with pipes and song.

Old Ears had gone back to the cabin to drink; Chen Ji still sat on the gunwale. Pleasure boats coming head-on slid past one another; a woman behind a window pointed at Chen Ji and laughed softly: "Look at him, he doesn’t drink, he’s actually sitting at the bow of the boat letting the wind blow on him."

The drinkers at her table turned to look, bursting into laughter.

Chen Ji paid it no mind, letting the light river breeze stir his robes. He raised his hand, feeling the cool night wind slip past his fingertips, and thought this was a rare kind of ease.

Footsteps sounded behind him; Ping Zhao also came to the bow, smiling as she said, "This is the first time someone has come onto my boat and neither drunk nor asked for news."

Chen Ji explained, "Aunt Ping, when we came to the Qinhuai River we only meant to look for some ordinary painting boat, but there was no help for it—this Late Sun was the only one left at the bank."

Ping Zhao lifted an eyebrow. "Aunt Ping does roll off the tongue, I’ll grant you."

Chen Ji smiled. "It does roll off the tongue."

Ping Zhao sized him up from head to toe. "You get on my boat and don’t ask for news—is it that you think this Late Sun of mine can’t give you the news you want?"

Chen Ji answered casually, "Aunt Ping, we’re just common folk living from bowl to bowl; we’ve no use for any kind of news."

Ping Zhao’s smile was half-mocking: "You lot are no common folk. Old and young, a foster father and a foster son, and all of you strangers from out of town. There are more people than you know in Jinling City looking for you right now. Just yesterday someone from the Eight Great Merchants came aboard trying to buy news of you. If I were to turn around and sell the news that you came on my boat today, I could make eight thousand silver taels by tomorrow."

Seeing Ping Zhao tear through the disguise, Chen Ji didn’t mind: "If Aunt Ping can so easily earn that much silver, then tonight’s wine bill ought to be remitted for us."

Ping Zhao laughed heartily, sprawling against the rail like a man: "Wine only costs a few coins; remitting it is nothing. This Late Sun of mine doesn’t make silver off fine wine and fine women—it lives off news worth its weight in gold. Let me guess: you’ve come to Jinling, so you must be planning to make a move on the salt tax?"

Chen Ji kept his expression unchanged. "Why do you guess that?"

Ping Zhao teased, "You came down to Jiangnan and the first time you moved you shattered the scene, taking the sea trade tariff in one stroke. Now, of things worth you moving your hand again, besides the salt tax I really can’t think of anything else. How about we do a bit of business—you pay me, and I’ll tell you how the Two Huai Salt Tokens are divided, how many shares sit in the Xu Family’s hands besides their twenty percent, how many parts are in the Ji Family, how many in the Liu Family, how many in the Qian Family. This information isn’t dear—two thousand silver taels will suffice."

Chen Ji shook his head. "No need."

Ping Zhao hadn’t expected him to be uninterested. "Then I’ll change the news. I know the Eight Great Merchants have several Seeking Dao Realm Officials hidden away. I not only know who they are and where they are, I know exactly what path they cultivate."

Chen Ji said sincerely, "Aunt Ping, truly, there’s no need."

Ping Zhao was baffled. "This you don’t need, that you don’t need—have you really come to Jinling just to sightsee?"

Chen Ji smiled. "Rather than talk about those things, Aunt Ping, you’d do better to tell me how they spend the Duanwu Festival in Jinling City."

Ping Zhao was taken aback. "Duanwu Festival? Isn’t Duanwu just racing dragon boats, eating zongzi, matching poems—what’s so special about that? Right now the Eight Great Merchants are all drawn up in battle array, sending people out every day to probe for news, to see if you’ve arrived in Jinling, to see if you’ve made a move on the salt tax... and you’re thinking about how to spend Duanwu Festival?"

Chen Ji laughed aloud. "I rather think celebrating the festival is more important than those things."

Ping Zhao’s lips curved. "All right, all right, I can see it clearly—you’ve simply not put the Eight Great Merchants in your eyes. In that case I won’t worry on your behalf. I’ll tell you about Duanwu in Jinling City; it’s a major spectacle, as lively as they come."

Leaning against the railing, Ping Zhao looked out at the shimmering Qinhuai: "When Duanwu comes, before dawn the common folk are up hanging mugwort and planting Acorus on their doors. Those with the mind for it will go to Chaotian Palace to ask for a Five Thunder Talisman to paste on their gates for warding off evil. Children have realgar dabbed on their foreheads and behind their ears, and five-colored longevity threads wound around them."

Chen Ji mused, "And then?"

"Let me say it slowly," Ping Zhao recalled. "After they finish lunch, the streets start to buzz. At the street corners various Nuotu Teams, holding Pujian straw swords, go along knocking gongs and driving out pestilence. Shops along the street sell sachets, straw fans, zongzi, and fresh fruit. Both banks of the Qinhuai are already jammed full of people, staking out spots by the shore early, waiting to watch the dragon boat race. There are eight dragon boats every year. Each of the Eight Great Merchants—Wang, Qian, Liu, Ji, Gu, Fu, Ji, Shen—puts out a dragon boat. On board are the best dragon boat men from each house, but they’re forbidden to use any Officials."

Chen Ji was puzzled. "The Eight Great Merchants? What’s the stake in the dragon boat race?"

"That’s where the crux lies," Ping Zhao said with a smile. "The dragon boat race on the Qinhuai has three stakes. The first is the brocade ribbon at the finish, called the Brocade Mark; whoever takes it enjoys exclusive control of thirty percent of next year’s Huguang salt market. The second is the Duck Mark—they throw a live duck into the water, and whoever crosses the finish can go in and grab it; whoever catches the duck gets to set next year’s grain price. The third is the Money Mark—they wrap a silver ingot in palm leaves and toss it into the river, and the markers from each house dive in to search; whoever finds it, when the Cao Yun is strained next year, the other houses must yield to him a bit."

Ping Zhao was clearly entertained. "Down in Jiangnan doing business you have to keep up an appearance of harmony, at least on the surface. But whoever doesn’t win any of the three marks is in for hard luck—the court’s contributions for next year, they have to shoulder eighty percent of them. These years, the Brocade Mark has gone back and forth between the Wang Family and the Ji Family; the others grab what they can by their own abilities. Only the Qian Family is the unluckiest of all—they come in last every year."

Chen Ji murmured, "The Qian Family?"

Ping Zhao’s tone grew meaningful. "The very same Qian Family that was milked for fifty thousand taels of silver in the Imperial Capital by Marquis Wu Xiang. That Qian scion rolled back to Jiangnan ass over head, and once he’d got his breath back he went around bragging, saying that when Marquis Wu Xiang saved Princess Bai Li that year, his Qian Family’s fifty thousand taels of silver did its part—that he voluntarily donated it to Marquis Wu Xiang... On that matter, you, Marquis Wu Xiang, should know best of all."

When the three words ’Marquis Wu Xiang’ were spoken, the night breeze seemed to pause for an instant; even the laughter on the distant painting boats softened.

Chen Ji was silent for a moment, then smiled. "So Aunt Ping did guess my identity after all."

Ping Zhao laughed as well. "The Landlord has borrowed my identity not once or twice these past years. Otherwise why would I wear this black gauze veil every day, if not to stop people from seeing through her? So when you called out that one word ’Mother,’ I guessed it... Young Master. I don’t yet know exactly what you and your mother have been through, but now you’re willing to call her Mother; that means the two of you have already recognized one another. For that alone, tonight calls for a good bout of drinking."

Chen Ji mused, "In that case, tonight’s wine bill can be remitted as well."

Ping Zhao joked, "The fact that you just took 1.2 million taels of silver from Dinghai Port is no great secret. All the houses need do is go ask at the temple near Dinghai Port and they’ll know... with the Young Master this wealthy, how can you still be so stingy?"

Chen Ji shook his head. "It’s not stinginess. I’ve kept that silver for a purpose."

Seeing him finally touch on business, Ping Zhao slowly reined in her smile. "What purpose?"

Chen Ji said firmly, "To buy up Huguang Salt Tokens. Whatever amount of tokens is on the market, I’ll take it all."

Ping Zhao drummed her fingers on the rail, quickly calculating. "Among Huai salt, Huguang is the foremost. Huguang has the most people, so Wuchang Prefecture and Changsha Prefecture have always been battlegrounds that the Lianghuai Salt Merchants must fight over..."

Chen Ji said, "Right now Salt Tokens on the market are all being sold off cheap. I imagine it won’t take that much silver."

Ping Zhao didn’t understand. "Salt Tokens are being sold cheap because there are so many they can’t be exchanged for salt. Even the court each year has to rely on all sides lobbying to make the Eight Great Merchants pinch their noses and agree to forced contributions... what are you going to do with these Salt Tokens?"

At this point her eyes suddenly lit up. "Look at my memory—the Salt Gang is yours. Others can’t draw salt against their tokens, but your Salt Gang keeps a whole crowd of salt-makers, so you don’t need to go to the official salt fields at all... You mean to use official Salt Tokens to move private salt into Huguang? This is a business of heaven’s own size... 1.2 million taels, if you move quickly, is enough to buy up thirty percent of the Huguang Salt Tokens on the market. The Xu Family still has twenty percent in hand—that makes fifty. Once you’ve got half the tokens, the salt in Huguang will be at the Young Master’s word."

Chen Ji could only laugh. "Aunt Ping is more excited about it than I am."

Ping Zhao roared with laughter. "Back when I heard how you straightened out the Chen Family Salt Shop, I already thought it more entertaining than any storybook. To watch it all over again now will be something to talk about in days to come. Rest easy, Young Master—tomorrow I’ll instruct Lamp to go out and collect Salt Tokens on the market. If your silver isn’t enough, Lamp still has some."

But Chen Ji suddenly shook his head. "Don’t use Lamp’s silver. Only use this 1.2 million taels in my own hand."

Ping Zhao was taken aback. "You’re calling her Mother now, yet you won’t use your mother’s silver—what sense is that? Your mother told me herself that aside from what she earned for the border army all these years, the rest was kept for you. Just take it as your own; there’s no need to stand on ceremony."

Chen Ji said solemnly, "Aunt Ping, it’s not about ceremony. I have my reasons for not using it. And besides, I’m not doing this for the salt tax."