Chapter 577: The Last Resort |
Gao Yiye had only intended to chat idly with Chunhong to pass the time. Hardly had she arrived when she heard such astonishing news, leaving her both amused and bewildered.
Since she oversaw “political thought lessons” in Gaojia Village, Gao Yiye’s knowledge leaned heavily in that direction. Upon hearing of Qin King Mansion’s actions, she immediately recalled her studies and shook her head in disapproval.
Suddenly, a woman sentinel standing at the northwest corner of the factory shouted loudly, “Men from the court are approaching Chengcheng!”
At her call, a crowd of female workers gathered at the factory entrance, craning their necks towards the northeast.
Gao Yiye also hurried out, bringing Chunhong and her guards to the gate.
They saw a small party of about a dozen men guarding two horses on the road to Chengcheng County. Mounted on the horses were two high-ranking officials—Inspector Wu Shen and magistrate in Xi’an Shi Kefa.
Both officials wore gloomy expressions, none of their usual composure visible.
The Deity embroidered with golden thread on Gao Yiye’s chest chuckled softly. “They’ve come seeking help.”
Gao Yiye exclaimed, “Ah? Has the Deity arrived?”
Gao Yiye’s cheeks flushed slightly. The Deity has been keeping me company all along.
The Deity embroidered with golden thread chuckled. “They’re heading into the city to speak with Liang Shixian. You should join them and observe. Another political thought lesson wouldn’t hurt.”
Gao Yiye laughed quietly. “They’re extremely rigid. Teaching them would prove difficult.”
The Deity replied, “If they can comprehend it, well and good. If not, so be it. Old social remnants who can be reformed, reform. Those who can’t—topple them.”
“As you wish.” Unhurriedly, Gao Yiye walked out of the factory with her guards and followed the officials.
Soon, Wu Shen and Shi Kefa arrived at the Chengcheng County office.
Liang Shixian hurried to greet them. Let us skip the one billion words of formalities—exchanging greetings, inviting them to sit, and serving tea—and cut straight to the matter.
Shi Kefa said bleakly, “Magistrate Liang, all the fertilizer we purchased from you was seized by people from Qin King Mansion.”
Liang Shixian suggested, “You’re both officials with direct access to His Majesty—Lord Shi as a captain of the Imperial Guards and Lord Wu as Inspector. Why not submit memorials to the throne?”
“It’s no use,” Wu Shen sighed profoundly. “Memorializing against minor officials might yield results, but against Qin King Mansion? Imagine the outcome…”
Liang Shixian paused. I must think this through carefully.
Knowledgeable in many matters, Liang Shixian’s mind instantly launched into calculation—the possible effects of submitting a memorial, the emperor’s likely responses, Qin King Mansion’s subsequent actions, and more. Potential outcomes spun like a carousel in his mind, branching endlessly like tree limbs.
Suddenly—ding!—all possibilities converged on the same conclusion.
Liang Shixian sighed heavily. “The emperor would feign reprimanding Qin King Mansion. Qin King Mansion might surrender that troublesome steward for a flogging or beheading. But in the end, the fertilizer would still be lost.”
Wu Shen nodded. “Precisely. That would be the outcome.”
He sighed again, deeply. “The plan to operate the fertilizer officially must be abandoned.”
Liang Shixian looked puzzled. “Can’t you simply replenish the stock after such a minor loss? Why call it impossible?”
Wu Shen admitted, “We’ve no silver left for restocking.”
Liang Shixian questioned, “Lord Wu, your hundred thousand…”
Wu Shen interrupted bitterly, “What hundred thousand? Everyone claims Wu Shen sits on piles of silver. Truth be told, ten taels of silver would come from my own wages.”
Liang Shixian fell silent.
Shi Kefa stepped forward. “Magistrate Liang, we’ve come to Chengcheng County hoping, without shame, to request credit for a batch of fertilizer. Once we’ve sold it and gained silver, we shall repay you.”
Liang Shixian narrowed his eyes at this. Supplier credit? That’s a disastrous trap.
Exactly! One of commerce’s oldest death traps. Throughout history, suppliers have been buried by it. Not only did ancient people sink into muddy debt quagmires, even today in modern Fujian, try asking for goods on credit in small factories drowning in “triangular debt.” See whether they don’t welcome you with the soles of their shoes.
Liang Shixian feigned distress. “This official…”
Wu Shen pressed, “This fertilizer is produced by Chengcheng County’s official workshop, is it not? Log the debt to Chengcheng County’s treasury under my name… I alone will account to His Majesty afterward.”
Liang Shixian spread his hands. “Alas, the fertilizer isn’t produced by an official workshop. It belongs to a local gentry.”
Wu Shen inquired, “Who is this gentry? I shall speak with him.”
“It’s me!” A woman’s voice, charming and clear, sounded out.
The officials turned and saw Gao Yiye.
Liang Shixian beamed. “Ah! The Saint Lady graces us!”
Shi Kefa tensed inwardly. The Saint Lady of Dao Xuan Deity Teachings—Gao Yiye.
Wu Shen did not recognize her, but his gaze swept over her: draped in exquisite white robes embroidered with gold and silver threads, adorned with splendid jewelry, flanked by guards. Without doubt, a lady of some noble family.
Wu Shen cleared his throat. “Madam, does your family own the fertilizer factory?”
Gao Yiye smiled. “In a sense. My husband hails from the Li Family and owns several ventures in Chengcheng County. The fertilizer factory is merely one among them.”
Wu Shen, rushing with pride, declared, “Your having overheard our conversation with Magistrate Liang spares me lengthy explanations. I shan’t waste words. Heaven appointed me as Inspector of Shaanxi, bearing also the vital duty of disaster relief. His Majesty grants me authority to privately source provisions against calamity. Your Li Family shall win renown in the court.”
Indeed, Wu Shen came not just with rumored wealth but with imperial privileges—the power to “sell honors.” Zhu Youjian, impoverished and unable to aid victims, granted Wu Shen this authority: “He who aids thee most shall gain most.”
“For donors of over one hundred gold taels: Grant honorable titles like ‘Filial Son’ or ‘Paragon Scholar,’ as traditions warrant. For over a thousand taels: Confer official rank… Flexibly enacted.”
Wu Shen had held this trump card for a critical moment—now he unveiled it.
His last resort stood revealed: “Madam, should the Li Family grant us fertilizer on credit today, my word stands. I shall pave your Li Family’s entire path into the imperial bureaucracy.”