Chapter 69
Song Qingyuan's heart skipped a beat when she heard the word "Qingyuan". She subconsciously tried to pull her hand back, but his warm palm wrapped her fingertips tighter.
The power was not overbearing, but it carried an unquestionable firmness, as if declaring some invisible belonging.
She raised her eyes and met his blazing eyes, which were filled with a light she had never seen before: admiration, trust, and the joy of finding a kindred spirit.
She suddenly felt her cheeks getting hot, so she had to look away, her gaze fixed on their clasped hands, and she muttered softly, "Your Highness, your flour... is on my sleeve."
Shen Yanzhi looked down and saw that the white flour on his hands had left a clear palm print on her light blue sleeve. He was a little embarrassed and quickly let go of her hand, picked up the handkerchief beside him, and clumsily tried to wipe it for her.
"Don't," Song Qingyuan dodged with a smile, "The more you rub it, the more it will become stained. It's okay, I can change it later."
He paused, looking at the small white palm print, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. It was like a mark, a unique mark that connected the two of them.
After Lin Feng left, the atmosphere in the courtyard did not relax because the crisis was temporarily resolved. Instead, there was an additional tension that was ready to explode.
The warmth and beauty just now were shattered by the sudden war, leaving only the tacit understanding of fighting side by side.
Shen Yanzhi paced the corridor with his hands behind his back, his brow slightly furrowed, clearly pondering the details of the entire plan. "Shu's well salt is a long-term solution, but as you said, distant water cannot quench a nearby fire.
Burning his salt warehouse is the most urgent task. However, there are dozens of warehouses in and around the capital that meet the requirements for storing large quantities of official salt. The Second Prince is cunning and will never put all his eggs in one basket. If we check them one by one, we will definitely alert the enemy.
Song Qingyuan squeezed the last bit of cream into the snow meringue, pinched the opening with his fingertips, rolled it with a layer of coconut flakes, and a white and plump finished product was completed.
She placed Xue Mei Niang on the plate, then raised her head, her eyes clear. "Your Highness, what kind of person knows best the distribution, size, and storage conditions of all the warehouses in a city?"
Shen Yanzhi paused, a flash of understanding flashed in his eyes: "You mean...dentistry?"
Yahang, an intermediary organization licensed by the government, is in charge of most commercial transactions, leasing and labor allocation in the city.
From big warehouses to small businesses like hiring porters, they are inseparable from them. They are like the capillaries of the city and are the most well-informed.
"More than that." Song Qingyuan shook his head. "The pawnbrokers are well-informed, but they may not be reliable. The Second Prince might try to circumvent them.
But there is another type of person who may not know what is in the warehouse, but they definitely know which warehouses have had a large amount of goods coming in and out recently, and that is only in, not out. "
"Porter." Shen Yanzhi blurted out.
"That's right." Song Qingyuan's lips curled up into a faint smile. "A large amount of illegal salt entering the warehouse must necessarily require the employment of a large number of porters to carry it. Hiring on this scale is impossible to do quietly.
As long as we find the porter who recently took on this large-scale, secretive moving business, and follow the clues, why worry about not finding his lair?"
Shen Yanzhi looked at her, his eyes becoming more profound. She could always find the key to solving a difficult situation from the most inconspicuous corner.
This way of thinking is not like that of girls in the boudoir, nor like those old foxes in the court. It has a kind of... clarity that simplifies the complex.
"But there are so many gangs of porters in Beijing, and they are a mixed bag. It would be difficult for our people to rashly investigate."
Shen Yanzhi pointed out another difficulty. These people have been struggling at the bottom for years, are extremely vigilant, and have a natural aversion to outsiders.
Song Qingyuan blinked mischievously when she heard this. She walked to Shen Yanzhi and lowered her voice: "Your Highness, which dim sum restaurant in the capital do you think has the best taste?"
This question was too far-fetched, and Shen Yanyi couldn't follow her train of thought for a moment. He was stunned for a moment: "...Do you want some snacks?"
"No." Song Qingyuan suppressed his laughter. "I mean, what's the favorite pastime of those porters and laborers on weekdays? It's nothing more than going to a small pub on the street after work to drink a couple of bowls of muddy wine with a few plates of cheap pickled vegetables and peanuts.
"But if I had a box of exquisite pastries that I wouldn't normally buy, and I 'ran into' them, wouldn't it be easier to open up a conversation?" she said, gesturing to the exquisitely presented snow meringues and various pastries she had just made on the table. "Don't we have them ready-made here?"
Shen Yanzhi was completely stunned. He had imagined countless ways of coercion, inducement, and infiltration, but he had never thought that a box of snacks could solve the problem.
He looked at Song Qingyuan's clever eyes and suddenly felt that the political tactics he had learned in the past years seemed a little... dull in the face of her wonderful ideas.
"You mean..." he began uncertainly.
"Your Highness is so busy, so you don't need to personally handle such a small matter." Song Qingyuan seemed to see through his thoughts and smiled even more. "However, if there is a 'rich young man' of noble status and generous spending, with an equally noble 'sister', saying that he wants to find a suitable warehouse for his own business, and by the way, understand the people's sentiments and comfort the hard-working porters... wouldn't that be much more reasonable?"
Shen Yanzhi looked at her, speechless for a long time. He finally understood that she was not only giving advice, but had even thought of the details of the execution and the cover-up of her identity. Moreover, this plan also included herself.
He was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. It wasn't the cold, calculating laugh he'd had before, nor was it the heartfelt laugh of someone in control of the situation. Instead, it was a laugh that came from the heart, tinged with a hint of helplessness and indulgence.
"Okay." He only said one word, but his eyes were full of brilliance. "As you wish. However, it's not 'sister', it's 'Madam'."
Song Qingyuan's face flushed instantly. She hadn't expected him to say that out of the blue, and for a moment she didn't know how to refute him.
Seeing her rare embarrassment, Shen Yanzhi was in a good mood. The haze caused by the salt policy before seemed to be diluted by the ease and joy of this moment.
That afternoon, near Xiaguanpo, the largest labor market at the south gate of Beijing, there appeared a pair of "brother and sister" with extraordinary temperament... Oh no, they were a "couple".
Shen Yanzhi changed out of his princely attire and put on a moon-white brocade robe. A jade pendant of excellent quality hung around his waist, and he waved a folding fan in his hand, looking like a wealthy and pampered man.
Song Qingyuan was wearing a light blue dress with a light touch of powder. She had the dignity of a lady from a noble family, but also had a hint of the naivety of a newcomer to the world.
The two of them were accompanied by Lin Feng, who was dressed as a butler and was carrying several food boxes.
Xiaguanpo was a hive of activity, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and dust. Shen Yanzhi had never been to such a place before, and his brows furrowed unconsciously.
He subconsciously turned sideways, protecting Song Qingyuan behind him, separating them from the laborers who were hurriedly passing by carrying sacks and pushing carts.
Song Qingyuan didn't take it seriously. She looked around curiously. Everyone here had a face etched with the hardships of life, but their eyes revealed a tenacious vitality.
She stopped in front of a tea stall, where a dozen porters were sitting under the shed, resting their feet. They were all covered in dust and drinking coarse tea in big gulps.
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