Chapter Twenty-Five: Self-Binding Shackles
In the early summer of the twenty-sixth year of the Zhenguan era, Datong Pawnshop was at the height of its power, but it also attracted more scrutinizing gazes. That morning, Liu Bao'er was processing urgent reports from branches across the country at the main office when a group of palace eunuchs suddenly arrived.
"Lady Dou, His Majesty has summoned you." The head eunuch's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable air of authority.
Liu Bao'er's hand paused slightly, the ink spreading into a small blotch on the ledger. What was bound to happen had finally arrived. She calmly put down her pen and instructed Hu Liu, "If I am not back by noon, proceed according to the third contingency plan."
As the carriage traveled towards the imperial city, Liu Bao'er gazed out the window at the bustling streets. Vendors selling steamed buns, merchants leading camels, peddlers carrying loads... these familiar scenes now seemed almost unreal. She gently touched the abacus-shaped gold hairpin in her hair; the cool touch calmed her slightly.
Inside the Zichen Palace, Li Shimin was reviewing memorials. Seeing her enter, he didn't look up, only saying calmly, "Lady Dou has been quite the figurehead lately."
"It's all thanks to Your Majesty's grace." She knelt on the ground, her voice steady.
"Imperial grace?" The emperor put down his vermilion brush, his gaze sharp as lightning. "I've heard that the amount of flying coins circulating in Chang'an is now greater than the amount of official copper coins."
Liu Bao'er's heart tightened; she knew this was the real reason for today's summons. She raised her head and calmly replied, "Flying coins are merely a convenient form of proof for merchants; ultimately, they are based on copper coins. Every flying coin issued by Datong Bank is backed by corresponding silver reserves."
"Oh?" Li Shimin picked up a memorial. "But why is someone here saying that your Datong Pawnshop has been 'funding the national treasury for generations'?"
These words carried immense weight. Liu Bao'er took a deep breath, knowing that the most crucial moment had arrived.
"Your Majesty," she said, enunciating each word clearly, "this humble woman is willing to donate thirty percent of the shares of Datong Pawnshop to the Imperial Treasury, and thereafter, thirty percent of the annual net profit will be directly transferred to Your Majesty's private treasury."
The hall fell silent instantly. Even the eunuchs standing to the side were startled and looked up.
Li Shimin gazed at her for a long time before finally speaking: "Do you know how much that 30% profit is?"
"I do not know the exact amount," she said, bowing her head, "I only know that it was all bestowed by His Majesty. Wealth is like water, His Majesty is the source, and I am merely the craftsman who manages the channels for His Majesty."
Another long silence followed. Finally, the emperor nodded slightly: "Granted."
When Liu Bao'er stepped out of the Zichen Palace, her back was completely soaked. The bright summer sun shone on the white marble steps, so bright that she could barely open her eyes.
"Madam Dou."
Outside the palace gates, in the shade of elm trees, Cui Jiulang stood tall. Today he wore a moon-white robe, and in his hand he played with the jade ruyi that he never parted with.
"What are you doing here, Jiulang?"
"I heard that Your Highness went to the palace today." His gaze lingered on her slightly pale face for a moment. "I stopped by to take a look."
Unusually, she didn't answer immediately, but instead looked up at the distant, layered palaces. The vermilion palace walls shone brightly in the sunlight, like a giant net.
"His Majesty said..." she said softly, "'The vitality of the people has reached such a level.'"
Cui Jiulang's expression hardened slightly. His words, seemingly complimentary, actually contained a hidden barb.
On the return journey in the carriage, Liu Bao'er remained silent. Only after they had left Zhuque Street did she suddenly speak: "I request His Majesty's permission to donate thirty percent of the shares of Datong Pawnshop to the Imperial Treasury."
Even Cui Jiulang was taken aback.
"Thirty percent of the net profit each year will be directly transferred to His Majesty's private treasury." She spoke calmly, as if she were talking about something perfectly ordinary.
Do you know how much that 30% profit is?
"Last year's net profit was 800,000 strings of cash, and this year it's expected to reach one million." A bitter smile appeared on her lips. "Using 300,000 strings of cash to buy peace of mind is worthwhile."
The carriage drove through the West Market, the shouts of vendors echoing through the windows, a lively scene. Liu Bao'er gazed at the street view and suddenly whispered, "Jiulang, sometimes I think back to the first time I saw you."
Cui Jiulang raised an eyebrow: "At Zuixianlou?"
"Yes." She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with an unusual weariness. "Back then, you told me that to make money, you first needed to build connections and find powerful backers. Now I truly understand the weight of those words."
Her fingertips unconsciously traced the abacus hairpin in her hair: "Over the years, I have devoted myself to building Datong Pawnshop from scratch to its current scale. But today, before His Majesty, I realize how pitifully insignificant I still am."
Cui Jiulang gazed at her. At this moment, Liu Bao'er shed her usual calm and composure, revealing a rare vulnerability. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the carriage curtain, casting flickering shadows on her face.
"Do you know?" her voice trailed off, "just now in the hall, for a fleeting moment I even wondered what things would be like now if I hadn't left that little courtyard of the Dou family."
These words were spoken very softly, yet they sent a jolt through Cui Jiulang's heart. He had never seen Liu Bao'er like this before—the woman who was always composed and always in control, now showing signs of bewilderment.
"But you won't regret it," he said confidently.
Liu Bao'er paused slightly, then smiled: "Yes, I don't know how."
When she looked up, the vulnerability she had shown moments before had vanished, replaced by a familiar sharpness: "Having chosen this path, I can only continue walking it. This shackle is one I put on myself."
The carriage stopped in front of the Datong Pawnshop. Liu Bao'er straightened her clothes and was about to get out of the carriage when Cui Jiulang suddenly handed her a brocade pouch.
"This is?"
"Open it and take a look."
Inside the brocade pouch was a small bronze seal, the knob of which was carved in the shape of a ruyi (a traditional Chinese ornament symbolizing good fortune), but the inscription on the seal was the character "稳" (wěn, meaning "steady").
"This is..."
"It's the family seal passed down through my Cui family," he said calmly. "It might come in handy in a critical moment."
Holding the bronze seal, still warm from her touch, Liu Bao'er felt a surge of warmth in her heart. She knew the weight of this personal seal—it was not just a token, but a promise.
"Thank you, Jiulang."
As she stepped down from the carriage, her back was ramrod straight, and the gold hairpin in her hair gleamed in the sunlight. The shackles she had willingly chosen now seemed like the strongest armor.
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