Hidden Reefs in the Business World
Autumn comes quickly in Linshan County, Qingzhou.
The brocade-like fabrics of "Yunshangji" surged between the sacks of seeds of "Shanhaisu".
Chunshi, the mistress of the Shen family's backyard, moved out on her own initiative.
Ling Zhan moved to the back warehouse of "Shan Hai Su", built walls with cotton sacks and laid blue cloth on the ground, creating his own world.
There was a good harvest of seeds in autumn, and even more seeds were produced.
At this moment, there was a small courtyard to the east of "Shan Hai Su" (a type of millet), where elm seeds were falling.
Tiger carried the last bed board into the west wing, wiping his sweat: "Mother, Bean Sprout's compass is installed! Big Girl and Big Girl's embroidery frames are also set up!"
This small courtyard has two sections and six rooms. Ling Zhan rented it with the profits from his seed shop, specifically for his older children and younger siblings to live in.
Bean Sprout closed his eyes to sense the earth's energy in the courtyard, then suddenly opened them: "Mother! There's hidden water flowing under the kitchen! If we dig a well here, the water will definitely be sweet!"
Aunt Wang moved from the village to work and help Ling Zhan.
She was feeding Simao when she heard this and laughed, "Little Bean Sprout is amazing! The old well in this yard is right behind the kitchen!"
Da Niu laid the newly embroidered "Shan Hai Su" shop sign on the stone table, the silk threads shimmering in the autumn sun.
"Mother, do you think the crochet stitch for the character '粟' is steady?"
Ling Zhan picked up the embroidered face: "Very good. The three of you will jointly manage the shop."
She placed a bag of copper coins on the table. "Monthly allowance, payable by myself. Any surplus, deposit in a money shop, immediately deposited." She then pointed to the main room. "Twelve young children, please look after them, Aunt Wang. Xuan Chenzi," she looked at the old Taoist priest who was playing with the Shiba Inu, "take charge."
Xuan Chenzi stroked his beard and smiled: "Amitabha! The earth veins in this courtyard are peaceful, and evil spirits cannot invade! This humble Taoist will definitely protect the children... Ouch!"
The sphere slapped over his compass.
Little Stone ran in from outside the door with his new schoolbag slung over his shoulder.
The little boy's face lit up with excitement: "Mom! Qingsong Academy accepted me! The teacher praised me for reciting the Thousand Character Classic well!"
Ling Zhan brushed his fingertips across his forehead: "Buy your own writing materials. You can help out at the shop to earn a monthly wage."
"Yes! The money from selling herbs is enough!" Little Stone nodded vigorously and ran to the desk.
His cheap pens and ink, which he had bought himself, were already laid out on the corner of the table, along with half a half-eaten roujiamo (Chinese hamburger) – his lunch.
At this time, inside "Yunshangji", the newly woven soft silk gauze in the village was dazzling and the business was getting better and better.
Shen Yan, dressed in a crimson-purple robe embroidered with gold, was spitting as he spoke: "Boss Wang! I'm not bragging, but you won't find another piece of this 'Phoenix Wearing Peony' fabric in the entire Qingzhou Prefecture! Three hundred taels! Not a penny less!"
The silk merchant, Mr. Wang, touched the fabric with a pained expression: "Master Chen, how about two hundred and eighty taels? What do you think..."
"Three hundred!" Shen Yan said decisively, tapping the counter with a triumphant gesture. Underneath the counter, a leather money bag stuffed full of silver notes was bulging and about to burst.
Su Wan stood to the side, holding the account book, seemingly wanting to say something but hesitating.
After Mr. Wang gritted his teeth, paid, and left, she finally spoke: "Young Master Shen, the cost of this batch of soft gauze was less than 150 taels. According to industry practice, adding 50% profit would bring it to 225 taels. 300 taels... isn't that too harsh? Mr. Wang is a regular customer..."
"A regular customer?"
Shen Yan sneered, grabbed the money pouch and weighed it in his hand. "We have to fleece our old customers even more... cough, we have to show off the prestige of Yunshangji! Miss Wan, you can't be soft-hearted in business! Look at 'Jinhuazhuang' across the street, their eyes are red with envy!"
Before he could finish speaking, the shop door was pushed open.
Several men, their chests exposed and reeking of alcohol, swaggered in. The one leading them, with a scarred face, was none other than Zhao San, the former gang leader.
"Brother Chen! Your brothers have come to congratulate you! The name Yunshangji is now renowned throughout Qingzhou Prefecture!"
His gaze swept greedily over the dazzling array of lights in the store.
Shen Yan's smile widened, and he greeted her with a touch of old-school江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world) spirit: "Haha! Zhao San! You've come at the right time! Let's go! 'Sihailou'! Today, Master Shen is treating, let's try the newly arrived Fenhe River carp!" He casually pulled out a silver note from his purse and stuffed it into Su Wan's hand, "The shop is yours now! Keep the accounts clear!"
Su Wan clutched the silver note, still warm from Shen Yan's body, and watched him being escorted away by Zhao San and the others, his figure disappearing into the bustling streets.
She lowered her head, her fingertips tracing the ink on the ledger that read "three hundred taels of silk gauze," the abacus beads clicking loudly, each click heavier than the last—
Three days later, at dawn.
Just as the door panels of "Yunshangji" were removed, several yamen runners in black robes escorted a tax collector with a sinister look in his eyes as he barged in.
"Manager!" The tax collector gave a forced smile, his gaze sweeping over Su Wan like a hook. "Someone has reported that Yunshangji has falsely reported its income and evaded national taxes! Hand over the account books for inspection!"
Su Wanxin's heart sank, but she forced a calm expression: "Your Excellency, please understand, Yunshang's accounts are clear and accurate, there is absolutely no..."
"Enough with the nonsense!"
The tax collector shoved her aside and rushed to the locked ledger behind the counter. A constable roughly pried open the brass lock. The ledgers were violently flipped through, and the tax collector's finger precisely struck the page for "soft silk gauze," his sneer like a knife: "One hundred and fifty taels? What a joke! Jinhua Manor reported two hundred taels for the same batch of material! The tax for the fifty taels difference, plus penalties, is three hundred taels! Pay immediately!"
"grown ups!"
Su Wan stepped forward hastily, her voice trembling, "Jinhua Manor is inflating its prices and maliciously accusing us! We produce our own fabric... I have the receipts."
"Self-produced?"
The tax collector scoffed, tossing out a piece of paper with a blurry stamp. "Look! This is Jinhua Manor's 'real price'! Your receipts? Forged, aren't they? Either cash, or..." He scanned the shop's dazzling array, his eyes greedy. "Close the shop! Arrest the people!"
The crowd outside the shop buzzed with discussion.
On the second floor of Jinhua Manor across the street, the fat shopkeeper leisurely sipped tea, his smile glaringly unpleasant.
"Who dares to shut down my shop?!"
Shen Yan burst out of the backyard with a hoarse, hangover roar. His crimson brocade robe was slightly wrinkled, but his eyes were sharp as knives with rage. He saw the arrest warrant and the amount in the tax collector's hand, and his anger flared: "Three hundred taels?! Are you officials or bandits?!"
"Young Master Shen!" Su Wan grabbed his sleeve tightly, her nails almost digging into his flesh.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Pay first... otherwise the shop will really be shut down! That's exactly what I wanted!"
Her eyes held an unprecedented sense of panic and pleading.
Shen Yan's chest heaved violently, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the tax collector's smug face, then swept over the sinister smile of the Jinhua Manor manager across the street.
His jaw clenched, his cheeks taut with a fierce expression. He whirled around, yanked open a hidden compartment in the counter, grabbed the still-warm money pouch, counted out three hundred-tael silver notes, and slammed them down on the counter! The edges of the notes were even scratched by his fingernails!
"Take it! Get out!" The voice burst from between his teeth, filled with thunderous fury.
The tax collector leisurely collected the banknotes, flicked them, and said, "Boss Shen, you're straightforward! I'll be checking the accounts next month, so I hope you'll behave yourself!" He then strode away.
The shop was deathly silent.
Su Wan's fingertips were icy cold. She silently tidied up the mess of account books, the abacus beads remaining untouched for a long time.
Disgusted and irritated, he grabbed the cold tea from the table and gulped it down. Glancing at Su Wan's pale and dazed profile, his pent-up anger intensified. He said impatiently, "Alright! Three hundred taels, consider it dog food! I'll get it back from that old bastard sooner or later, with interest! What bad luck!"
He grabbed the few dozen taels of silver remaining in his purse, turned and left, saying, "Zhao San and the others are still waiting for me at 'Drunken Immortal Abode' to discuss important matters..."
"Young Master Shen!"
Su Wan suddenly looked up, her voice carrying a sharpness she herself didn't realize, "That Zhao San... is no good! At this critical moment, you..."
"A woman's view!"
Shen Yan suddenly turned around, his eyes sharp as a blade as he swept over Su Wan. "Zhao San and his gang are well-informed! Jin Hua Manor dared to scheme against me, so I need to know who handed me the knife! You think you can turn the tables with this account?!" He no longer looked at Su Wan's instantly pale face, and strode out the door, his crimson robes billowing in a gust of cold wind.
Su Wan stood frozen in place, her fingertips digging into the cold edge of the counter.
She slowly lowered her head, her fingertips tracing the ink mark of "soft silk" on the ledger.
A drop of thick black ink fell silently, completely obscuring the words "one hundred and fifty taels".
The elegant pavilion of "Zui Xian Ju" is filled with the sounds of silk and bamboo instruments.
Shen Yan downed the strong liquor in one gulp, the spiciness burning his throat, unable to quell the fire in his heart. Zhao San and the others, all smiles, offered him another toast: "Master Shen, you have a great capacity for alcohol! Those tax lords are just bullies who prey on the weak! Your three hundred taels today were well spent! Let them know that Yunshangji is not to be trifled with!"
He slammed down his wine glass, a cold, clear glint hidden beneath the drunkenness in his eyes.
"Stop flattering me! Who's backing that old dog from Jinhua Manor? Have you found out yet?"
Zhao San's beady eyes darted around as he leaned closer and whispered, "Master Chen, this matter... is a bit tricky. I heard that old bastard has gotten in touch with the second manager of the 'Longchang' shop in the prefectural city, surnamed Qian, who has connections in the textile bureau! That tax collector was probably ordered by that Qian guy!"
"Longchang? Money-grubber?"
Shen Yan sneered, his knuckles clenched until they turned white. "When I was... cough, when I was in the underworld, what was he anyway!" A chilling aura inadvertently emanated from him, making Zhao San and the others shudder.
"That's right! Mr. Shen, who are you!"
Zhao San quickly flattered him, then changed the subject, "...We can't let this loss go unpunished! We have to find a way to make up for it! Brother, I happen to have a way to make money..."
"Speak," Shen Yan said, his eyes sharp.
Zhao San lowered his voice, coaxing, "At the old dock in the south of the city, I have a batch of 'South Seas sugarcane' in storage, top quality! It's just... the tax checkpoints are strict. Mr. Shen, you're a respectable man now, and you know Liu, the dock inspector. Do you think... you could do me a favor? Commission... no problem! I guarantee it'll be faster than selling silk!"
"sucrose?"
Shen Yan stared at Zhao San's shifty eyes, then suddenly grinned, a smile devoid of warmth, filled with knowing mockery: "Zhao San, do you think I'm new to this business? Do you think I don't know how much cottonseed powder and sand you've mixed into your 'sugar cane'? It's all dirty money from cheating, swindling, and passing off inferior goods."
He slammed his wine glass down on the table with a loud thud, his eyes sharp as a quenched blade.
"I don't want my hands dirty! Get lost!"
Zhao San and the others were stunned by this sudden aura, their faces turning pale and then red.
In the shadows of the Accord's corner, a gaunt old man stared coldly at Shen Yan and made a throat-slitting gesture to Zhao San.
A fierce glint flashed in Zhao San's eyes, but he forced a smile and said, "Brother Chen...you're saying this...we brothers are just looking out for you..."
"For my own good?"
Shen Yan stood up, his crimson brocade robe gleaming dimly in the lamplight. He looked down at Zhao San, his voice low but each word like an ice bead striking the ground, "Zhao San, listen up. Our past friendship is over, this drink is it. If you dare to spew any more filth at my ears, don't blame me for turning my back on you! Get out!"
The final, sharp shout carried an undeniable air of authority.
Zhao San and his men felt as if they had been granted a pardon and slunk away.
The elegant room returned to silence. Disgusted, he sat down alone, poured himself a cup, and drank it all in one gulp.
As the strong liquor went down his throat, he gazed out the window at the dim lights of Qingzhou County, his expression complex and unreadable.
The unique dry aroma of cottonseed permeates the warehouse behind the "Shanhaisu" plant.
Su Wan placed the clearly copied tax records and several "confiscation receipts" stamped with bright red official seals on the rough wooden table in front of Ling Zhan: "Sister Ling, that's how it is. Young Master Shen... paid the money and went to find Zhao San and the others."
Her voice was calm, but a trace of suppressed weariness and coldness lingered in her eyes.
Ling Zhan was pouring the selected plump wheat seeds into the earthenware jar, his movements as steady as a mountain. He didn't even look up when he heard this: "Is the account accurate?"
"Absolutely no falsehoods! Input invoices, shipping documents, and guild valuation records are all here!"
Su Wan pushed a stack of documents forward, her fingertips turning white from the force. "It's Jinhua Manor colluding with Longchang Company in the prefectural city to bribe tax officials and frame someone!"
"Um."
Ling Zhan sealed the earthenware urn, smoothing the mud seal until it was as smooth as a mirror.
She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the stack of receipts before finally settling on Su Wan's tightly pursed lips: "The money has been paid, the matter is settled. The shop door remains open, that's the result." She picked up a small bag of newly harvested insect-repelling neem seeds from the table and handed it to Su Wan, "Everyone should stay in their place and perform their duties. Grind these seeds into powder and sprinkle them in the corners of the storeroom to prevent insect infestation."
Su Wan took the rough burlap sack, her palms aching from the hard seeds.
Looking at Ling Zhan's expressionless face, all her accusations and grievances were stuck in her throat.
In the end, she simply bowed deeply and whispered, "Yes. Su Wan understands."
He turned and left the warehouse, his back straight, yet exuding an indescribable loneliness.
Ling Zhan walked to the only narrow window in the warehouse.
In the small courtyard outside the window, Little Stone is squatting under the elm tree, using a twig to silently write Mencius on the muddy ground.
Her little hands were slightly red from the cold, and she looked focused.
The autumn wind swept up a few withered leaves, which swirled and landed on his small shoulder.
Across the street, the hustle and bustle of "Zui Xian Ju" could be faintly heard, mixed with a few rough shouts of drinking games.
I need to go back to the top of the mountain; it's harvest time again.
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