The Ling family does not keep slaves.
A biting mountain wind swept withered leaves across the winding stone path.
Ling Zhan and the children carried heavy wicker baskets on their backs, filled with newly harvested spirit seeds that emitted a warm, gentle glow.
Tiger, Bean Sprout, Big Girl, and Big Girl followed closely behind, their little faces slightly red from the cold, but their eyes were bright.
Especially Daya, who was tightly clutching a small cloth bag full of precious herbs.
The harvest from the mountaintop base has been fully stored.
A year of free growth culminates in a bountiful harvest, proving that the soil at the mountaintop fields is so fertile that it can grow on its own after sowing.
Not many people are needed, and the long winter hibernation ahead will also nourish the land.
As soon as the five of them stepped into Linshan County, Qingzhou, the hustle and bustle of "Yunshangji" hit them, even more so than when they left.
The shopfront appeared to have been repainted, the vermilion lacquer was even shinier, and carriages and horses were constantly coming and going in front of the door.
The shop was bustling with people. In addition to the familiar faces of the shop assistants, there were also a few new shop assistants who were dressed neatly but looked a little reserved. They were moving goods and greeting customers with quick hands and feet.
Shen Yan, dressed in a brand-new royal blue brocade robe, stood behind the counter, speaking rapidly to an elderly man with a goatee and tortoiseshell glasses: "...Accountant Wang, the loss on this batch of 'gold-embroidered satin' must be accounted for at the lowest grade! And the account from Master Zhao the other day, hurry up with the final payment! It's the end of the year, and we need to make arrangements everywhere!"
The accountant, Wang the Goatee, nodded repeatedly, his fingers flying across the abacus, producing a crisp, rapid sound.
"Don't worry, boss, I understand."
He looked up and saw Ling Zhan and the others come in. He was slightly taken aback, then bowed slightly in greeting.
Shen Yan turned around following Wang the accountant's gaze and saw Ling Zhan. A subtle, complex emotion flashed across her face, which was then covered by a smile: "Oh, you're back just in time! Take a look, how does the shop look?"
He gestured with his hand, pointing to the newly renovated furnishings and bustling scene, his tone smug.
Ling Zhan's gaze swept over the new employees, finally landing on Wang, the accountant behind the counter, who was engrossed in calculating accounts, without uttering a word.
Just then, Little Stone ran over happily, shouting, "Mom, you're finally back! I was supposed to go with you to dig for medicinal herbs!"
Ling Zhan gently put down the large wicker basket, patted Xiao Shitou's shoulder, and handed him a cloth bag, saying, "This bag is yours. Take it to the backyard and give the herbs to Daoist Xuan Chen to keep track of your expenses."
Little Stone happily agreed and ran to the small courtyard on the east side with his cloth bag in his arms.
Seeing that Ling Zhan's reaction to him was indifferent, Shen Yan's smugness subsided slightly. She took a step closer and lowered her voice, speaking in a tone that was somewhat conciliatory.
“Well, as you can see, business is getting busier and busier. Su Wan has to do the embroidery, manage the accounts, manage the warehouse, and also take care of things at the front. She really can’t be in two places at once. That’s why I hired Accountant Wang, recommended by the old Taoist priest. He’s a real expert at accounting.”
He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "Also... I'm planning to hire a few more people, with lifelong contracts, who are quick and efficient, so that the skills in the shop can be preserved..."
"A slave?" Ling Zhan's voice was not loud, but it was clear and cold, like an icicle falling to the ground.
Shen Yan frowned: "What do you mean by 'beast'! Once you sign a contract, you're part of the family, it's only natural! Those day laborers we hire outside are dishonest and their mouths aren't reliable either. As for our newly invented weaving and dyeing techniques..."
"No." Ling Zhan interrupted him, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Shen Yan's face darkened, and he was about to lash out.
At this moment, Xuan Chenzi, holding Xiao Shitou's hand, strolled out from the backyard. The old Taoist, dressed in a worn Taoist robe, exuded an air of otherworldly elegance. His gaze swept over Shen Yan and Ling Zhan before he slowly spoke: "Young Shen, I think you haven't thought this through enough."
Shen Yan was stunned, looking at the old Taoist priest in disbelief: "Taoist priest? Didn't you say before..."
Xuan Chenzi stroked his beard, his eyes sharp: "You mean the business is booming and we're short-handed? But bringing in outsiders to live permanently in the shop through 'life-or-death contracts'? That's not a good idea." His gaze swept over the new employees sorting fabrics. "These helpers are alright for now, since they only do odd jobs on the periphery and don't get involved in the core operations. But if we bring in servants to live here, spending every day with them, who knows if they won't discover my 'Yunshangji's' unique weaving and dyeing secrets? At that point, they might be bribed by our rivals or start their own operations—both will be disastrous. The art of weaving and dyeing is the foundation of our livelihood; how can we allow it to be leaked?"
The old Taoist priest spoke calmly, yet every word he uttered was sharp and clear.
Wang, the accountant, stopped using the abacus, lowered his eyes, and remained silent.
Shen Yan's expression changed. He didn't expect that even the old Taoist priest who had always supported his expansion would suddenly stand on Ling Zhan's side.
Looking at Ling Zhan's expressionless face, and then at Xuan Chenzi's serious expression, a surge of suppressed anger rushed to his head, and his voice rose: "This won't work, that won't work! The shop is getting bigger and bigger, are we just going to rely on Su Wan and these few novices to keep it going? If we miss the delivery deadline and ruin the reputation, who can take the blame?!"
He slammed his hand on the counter in frustration, making the abacus beads bounce wildly.
Ling Zhan ignored Shen Yan's anger and walked to the corner where the fabric samples were placed.
There, a slightly worn foot-operated loom stood quietly, with several bolts of plain cloth, freshly woven and with a slightly rough texture, piled beside it. She stretched out her hand, its knuckles distinct from years of labor, and gently stroked the loom's wooden frame, pedals, heald frames (the devices that control the raising and lowering of the warp threads), and shuttle, her gaze focused, as if inspecting a precision weapon.
The sullen roar abruptly stopped, and he stared at her suspiciously.
"Why are you looking at that broken loom? Does it think it can conjure up human hands by itself?"
Ling Zhan did not answer.
She turned and walked straight to the storage room in the backyard where tools and scraps were kept.
Soon, she came out carrying a pile of things: several tough old bamboo strips, several hardwood sticks of varying thicknesses, a small roll of extremely resilient cow tendon, and several pieces of iron that had been polished smooth with sharp edges—
Those were scraps left over from her daily processing of medicinal herbs or repair of farm tools.
Amidst the astonished and uncertain gazes of the crowd, Ling Zhan placed the items beside the loom and sat down on the ground.
She drew out a short dagger she carried with her, its blade sharpened to an extremely thin edge, and began cutting bamboo strips and wooden sticks.
The movements were precise, stable, and efficient, with not a single unnecessary action.
The dagger made a "shush-shush" sound as it sliced through the hardwood, carrying a strange rhythmic quality.
Shen Yan crossed his arms, initially with a disdainful sneer, but gradually, that sneer froze.
He watched Ling Zhan's seemingly measured eyes, watched her skillfully bind and tighten the shaved bamboo strips with cow tendons, watched her carve fitting tenons and mortises at both ends of the hard wooden sticks, and then use a red-hot thin iron skewer to burn holes and insert polished iron pieces as bearings... Her movements lacked the skill of a craftsman, but exuded a cold, almost terrifying precision and efficiency, as if she were not making objects, but assembling a deadly mechanism that she had already rehearsed in her mind a thousand times.
An hour passed, and the sun began to set.
The shop was so quiet that only the sound of Ling Zhan's tools and the suppressed breathing of the others could be heard.
Finally, Ling Zhan stood up.
That old loom was completely unrecognizable.
The original simple heddle frame was replaced with an ingenious linkage device made of multiple layers of bamboo strips and sinew, with many small holes regularly distributed on it. A transmission rod with a complex cam structure, made of hardwood and iron bearings, replaced part of the wooden connecting rod and was firmly fixed to the frame. Most notably, the shuttle's sliding track was widened and deepened, and embedded with polished thin iron sheets.
Ling Zhan loaded a bundle of prepared silk thread onto the modified loom.
She sat on the loom stool and steadily pressed her feet onto the pedals.
"Click...clack..."
A strange sound, unlike any other loom ever heard before, filled the shop with the clear metallic clanging and the friction of wood!
The sound was not loud, but it was exceptionally steady and powerful.
Everyone held their breath and watched.
As Ling Zhan rhythmically stomped his feet, the complex linkage mechanism caused the heald frame to tumble up and down, instantly making the warp threads move several times more intricate! Even more astonishing was the shuttle—it no longer required the weaver to laboriously toss it left and right by hand. Instead, under the precise push of the track embedded with iron plates and the transmission rod cam, it seemed to be precisely guided by an invisible force, automatically shuttling back and forth along the track at high speed and smoothly! The speed was more than twice as fast as before!
"Swish...swish...swish..."
The sound of the shuttle cutting through the weft threads was continuous, rapid yet steady.
Ling Zhan's hand only needed to strike the gap between the warp and weft threads, using a specially modified wooden knife with a thin iron blade embedded in it, to quickly and powerfully snap the warp and weft threads together. Her movements were so fast they were dazzling, yet as precise as clockwork.
A roll of plain-colored warp threads grows at a visible rate on the cloth roll.
The fabric texture is no longer a simple plain weave, but presents a special twill weave that is fine, even, and has a very high texture!
This is not just an increase in speed, but a leap in quality!
The entire "Yunshang Chronicles" fell into a deathly silence.
Su Wan held the ledger, her finger pausing on a certain page, forgetting to breathe.
Wang the accountant forgot to adjust the abacus, his tortoiseshell glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he stared wide-eyed at the flying shuttle thread.
The new recruits gaped, as if they had witnessed a miracle.
Xuan Chenzi's hand, which was stroking his beard, froze in mid-air. His eyes flashed with a sharp light as he stared intently at the intricate transmission structure and the flying shuttle.
He muttered to himself, "Amazing skill... a work of divine craftsmanship... beyond human capability..."
The anger and arrogance on Shen Yan's face had vanished without a trace.
He stood frozen in place, his body taut beneath his crimson brocade robe, his eyes fixed on the monstrous loom that made a steady "click... clack..." sound, on the iron shuttle that moved back and forth like a living thing, and on Ling Zhan's steady, swift hands, which seemed to be controlling a killing machine on the battlefield.
A chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, making him tremble more than any blade pressed against his neck.
He is proud of his business acumen and network of connections.
In the face of this cold, subversive, and absolute power, it all appears so pale and laughable!
This is not something that can be obtained through money, connections, or conspiracies!
This is... a force powerful enough to change the rules of the entire industry!
It's in the hands of this woman right in front of him... his nominal wife!
Ling Zhan stopped moving.
The strange, metallic sound of operation came to an abrupt halt.
She stood up, picked up a small piece of cloth that she had just woven, walked over to Shen Yan, and handed it to him.
Shen Yan reached out and took it almost instinctively.
The fabric feels fine and dense to the touch, with clear and smooth twill weave, retaining the resilience and slight warmth of new fabric.
He looked down at the fabric, his fingers unconsciously stroking its unique texture as if trying to confirm its authenticity.
Ling Zhan's voice was calm and even, yet it struck Shen Yan's heart like a heavy hammer: "This machine, operated by one person, is equivalent to the strength of three people in the past. The cloth produced is denser in texture and tougher in quality. The core components were not made by me personally, and even if others disassemble it, it would be difficult to imitate. What use are slaves?"
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the new recruits. "The current manpower is sufficient to handle this."
Having said that, she looked away from Shen Yan's face, which was a mixture of paleness and rage, her eyes shifting wildly. She turned and walked towards her rented courtyard, as if she had only accomplished a trivial task. The modified loom stood silently, its cold iron sheets reflecting a dim light in the afterglow of the setting sun, silently proclaiming a suffocating power of control that transcended its time.
Shen Yan gripped the cloth tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.
He abruptly looked up, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, fixed on the intricate transmission structure of the loom, on the stationary shuttle embedded with the iron plate. The strange "click...clack..." sound seemed to still echo in his mind, each one like shattering a block of ice in his heart. His Adam's apple bobbed violently, and in the end, he couldn't utter a single word. Almost instinctively, he moved step by step to the loom, extending trembling fingers, carefully and almost reverently, to touch the cold iron cam with its precise meshing marks.
The cold, hard touch from his fingertips shattered the last shred of hope in his heart.
That wasn't a dream.
That silent machine is Ling Zhan's silent, cold, and absolute... law.
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