"Young lady, you're so generous." Gu Zheyuan suddenly leaned over, his gilded armor brushing against her earlobe. "But the East Factory never takes anything for free—" The tail end of the tone, entwined with ambergris, seeped into her collar. "What do you want in exchange?"
"Thirty thousand taels for Yue Qingyang's head." Jiang Songyi took a half step back, the banknote in his sleeve brushing against the other man's sleeve embroidered with the Xiezhi. "I don't care about his life, as long as he shows up at the West Market at noon tomorrow."
Sheng Fengmo paused as he was counting the banknotes. The Ling family bank's note number, the Xu family's dowry shop's seal—this girl had managed to keep both accounts impeccably detailed. He suddenly tapped his palm with his folding fan. "This deal is a good one, Mr. Factory. That kid from the Yue family isn't worth the price."
"I feel I've been wronged." Gu Zheyuan hooked his fingertips around the tassel of the jade pendant on Jiang Songyi's waist. "Miss, do you know that the land deed in your arms..." He pulled her closer, his thin lips almost touching her ear. "Last night, it was stained with the blood of seventeen people."
Jiang Songyi smelled rust. It wasn't an illusion; the stench of blood wafting from the casino's back alley grew stronger. She suddenly remembered this day in her past life, the case of the 38 members of the Shengfeng Chamber of Commerce who were drowned in a pond.
"The factory owner is joking." She snatched the jade pendant back, "I, a commoner, only know how to pay for goods." As she turned around, her embroidered shoes rolled over the blood scabs in the gaps between the floor tiles, and the hem of her skirt swept across the jade pendant on Sheng Fengmo's waist - the Pisces pendant, which was the one Yue Qingyang had pawned at the Ling family pawnshop the day before.
At the hour of Xu, the night watchman's call echoed, and suddenly dozens of red lanterns lit up on the second floor of the casino. As Jiang Songyi stepped out of the doorway, clutching the deed tightly, she heard Gu Zheyuan chuckle behind her, "Your fake identity had better withstand scrutiny than the torture instruments of the Eastern Depot."
Gu Zheyuan tapped the celadon cup with his fingertips, the glaze reflecting the cinnabar mole at the corner of his eye. "Although this governor has no business orders..." His black python-patterned cuffs swept across the banknotes on the table. When he raised his eyes, his gaze seemed to be filled with poison. "But, my benefactor has it."
Sheng Fengmo's folding fan snapped shut, its ink-bamboo pattern pressing against the back of Jiang Songyi's hand. "Miss, you withdrew thirty thousand taels from the bank last month. You must pay it back before Laba Festival." He suddenly leaned closer, the scent of pine smoke mixed with the aroma of tea wafting across the veil. "But with the business order in hand, all interest is waived."
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