“Someone came to deliver ten thousand guan to the Shi’jiu-lang?”
The news quickly reached the inner courtyard. Upon hearing it, Master and Madam Han were equally astonished and asked in unison, “Is this true?”
“Yes, yes, Master, but that’s not the main point,” the steward nodded repeatedly while wiping sweat from his brow.
That’s not the main point?
“The main point is, that person addressed the Nineteenth Young Master as ‘Boss,'” the steward said. “And mentioned that this was the current dividend.”
Boss! Dividend! Current!
Which meant there would be even more money in the future—a continuous flow of wealth!
For a moment, Master and Madam Han stood there in stunned silence.
“When—when did he become a boss?” Master Han exclaimed. “What kind of business is he running?”
Meanwhile, the “boss” in question, Han Yuanchao, was rummaging frantically through his study. Two or three servants scrambled alongside him, turning the usually neat and orderly room into complete chaos.
“No, no…”
Han Yuanchao flipped through scroll after scroll, tossing them haphazardly onto the desk. Soon, the pastry bag labeled Tai Ping Residence was buried under the mess.
“Young Master, which scroll exactly are you looking for?” The servants, drenched in sweat, had to ask again.
“The chest of books I took to the capital last year…” Han Yuanchao replied.
“That’s quite a lot! And who knows where they were stored after we returned—or if any were lent out…” the servants muttered.
Lent out…
Han Yuanchao froze for a moment.
He strained his memory, but all he could recall was the vague image of himself stuffing the documents into a book. The specific book, however, eluded him completely—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t summon even a trace of it.
If it really was lost…
“If it’s really lost… would those two take the money back?” a servant couldn’t help but ask.
That was ten thousand guan—or maybe even more…
The Han family wasn’t the type to be awestruck by such a sum, but… ten thousand guan was still ten thousand guan! And there would be even more in the future.
“If the documents can’t be found, I wouldn’t dare take the money even if I wanted to,” Han Yuanchao said.
Even if they were found, he’d still have to carefully consider whether to accept the money or not…
“Shi’jiu-lang, what on earth is going on?”
Han Yuanchao’s parents had also arrived. Seeing the study in such disarray that they couldn’t even step inside, they had no choice but to stand at the doorway and ask.
“How did you become the owner of some shop? Was it when you went to the capital for the exams?”
Han Yuanchao let out a sigh, his expression complicated.
“It’s a long story…” he said. “And a bit absurd, really…”
No sooner had he spoken than a servant behind him let out an excited shout.
“Young Master, is this it?!”
Han Yuanchao spun around and saw the servant pulling a sheet of paper from a scroll.
“Yes, that’s the one!” he cried, carefully picking his way through the cluttered room to take it.
The plain, unassuming piece of paper was smoothed out on the desk. The first thing that caught the eye was the bright red official guild seal stamped prominently at the top.
“…No wages were paid upfront, but as compensation, I was given a share of the business… I wanted to repay your kindness, so I transferred it to you…”
“…Benefactor, if not for you, I would have died—how could I have lived to support my family…”
Han Yuanchao’s mind seemed to replay the man’s frantic, emotional kowtows. Truthfully, he couldn’t even remember what the man looked like anymore.
“So you’re saying this dividend is that man’s way of repaying you?”
After hearing the story, Han Yuanchao’s parents were even more astonished. It was simply unbelievable.
“…In less than a year, a single dividend from a single share amounts to ten thousand guan?”
What kind of business is this?! How could it be so wildly profitable?
“They also brought the account books,” Han Yuanchao said, gesturing toward the desk—only to realize it was already buried under piles of scrolls. He hurried over, swept the clutter aside, and pulled out two thick ledgers before handing them to his father.
As he turned, something fell to the ground with a thud.
Han Yuanchao glanced down and saw the bag of pastries.
Tai Ping Residence…
Tai Ping Residence!!
He quickly snatched it up, turning it over in his hands.
Could this… be that Tai Ping Residence?
“This is a proper ledger—not fabricated or carelessly put together. Look, it’s even certified with the official guild seal…” Master Han remarked.
Madam Han leaned in to examine it as well and nodded in agreement.
“…The business doesn’t seem particularly thriving either… with such high expenses…” she murmured while scanning the pages. “…No wonder they couldn’t even afford to pay wages at first…”
Recalling their son’s description of the shop’s location, it seemed no more than a modest roadside restaurant.
Earning ten thousand guan in a year would already be an impressive feat for such a place.
Yet as they continued reading, the couple fell silent, their expressions growing increasingly astonished.
“…How did the business suddenly take off?” Madam Han couldn’t help but exclaim.
Master Han, too engrossed to respond, flipped through the ledger—though only skimming roughly. Yet the accounts were clear and unmistakable.
“At first, without reputation, business was naturally poor. But if it suddenly gained fame, a surge in customers would be expected,” he said, then looked up at Han Yuanchao. “Do you know how it rose to prominence so abruptly?”
Han Yuanchao stared blankly until his father called his name twice, snapping him out of his daze.
“What is this?” Madam Han asked, eyeing the bag in her son’s hand.
Everything their son carried or used came from the family—aside from the sachet gifted by his betrothed, he would never accept items from outsiders, especially something as personal as needlework.
A mother’s—and a woman’s—instinct made her tense.
“This was given to me by Aunt,” Han Yuanchao explained with a smile, recounting the incident.
Madam Han let out an “Oh,” took the bag, and shook out a piece of pastry. Having been crushed under the weight of books, it was now crumbled and flattened. She sniffed it lightly, then took a small taste.
“Hmm, not bad,” she nodded approvingly.
“Could this be from that Tai Ping Residence?” Master Han asked.
“Father, the journey from the capital takes a month—how could it stay fresh for so long?” Han Yuanchao chuckled.
Realizing his oversight, Master Han laughed as well.
“Still, this Tai Ping Residence seems quite intriguing,” he remarked.
The three of them sat together in the study, surrounded by scattered scrolls—a rather comical sight. When they reflected on the day’s events, even they found it somewhat absurd.
“This all feels too unbelievable,” Madam Han remarked, flipping through the ledger. “Judging from these accounts, the next dividend won’t be just ten thousand guan…”
The profits were staggering. In less than a year, they already surpassed the yield from her two dowry fields. What would the future bring?
“I truly never expected this,” Han Yuanchao said, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. “At the time, I didn’t take it seriously—just assumed that roadside restaurant would fold within a year or so. Even if it stayed open, how much could a single share’s dividend really amount to…”
He looked down at the money order, ledger, and deed before him.
Had he known the returns would be so immense, he would never have accepted it back then.
No—even now, knowing the truth wasn’t too late.
“I can’t keep this money,” he declared.
His parents nodded in agreement.
“We’ll accept the chef’s gratitude, but not this kind of wealth,” they said.
Hearing the words of the Han family, the two men waiting in the hall exchanged smiles.
“Our mistress predicted this perfectly,” they chuckled. “She said Young Master Han was a man like Shi She—if someone came seeking help, he would surely act without hesitation. But if money were sent to him, he would definitely refuse.”
Mistress?
Han Yuanchao froze for a moment, his mind involuntarily conjuring the image of a carriage and a maid with a radiant smile.
Could it be…
“Is the owner of Tai Ping Residence her family?” he blurted out without thinking.
Her family?
Which “her”?
Master and Madam Han glanced at their son, puzzled. Clearly, his earlier explanation hadn’t been detailed enough.
The two men seemed to understand exactly whom Han Yuanchao was referring to. They smiled.
“One of them…” one replied.
So it was her!
The Chen family?
Then this…
“Young Master Han, you must accept it. Our mistress said if you refuse, the two of us needn’t return,” the men said with a laugh. “Boss, finding a decent livelihood isn’t easy. You’re a noble gentleman who stands up for justice—don’t make things difficult for us. If there’s an issue, let the bosses settle it among themselves. ‘In war, envoys are not slain,’ as they say…”
This drew laughter from all three members of the Han family.
“Very well, we’ll accept it then,” Han Yuanchao said with a smile. “If there are any issues, they’re my responsibility—matters between me and your employer. No need for you to worry.”
“Thank you, Young Master Han! Truly, your chivalry is unmatched,” the two men replied, bowing in gratitude.
“You’ve had a long journey. Attendants!” Master Han called warmly.
Two servants promptly entered.
“Take some time to rest. Though Su-zhou may not compare to the capital, we do have a few sights worth seeing. Go and enjoy yourselves,” Master Han said.
The two men accepted graciously, offering their thanks before withdrawing with ease.
With only the three of them left in the hall, they exchanged glances for a moment.
“Father, you should use this money for now,” Han Yuanchao said, sliding the money order toward his father. “Don’t sell the land, and don’t touch Mother’s dowry either.”
“Is that appropriate?” Master Han hesitated.
“It is,” Han Yuanchao replied. “Earlier, Guo Zijun was here—”
“Call him Guo Hou, not ‘Zijun’!” Madam Han cut in irritably.
Han Yuanchao chuckled, understanding his mother’s aversion, and corrected himself with a smile. “…Guo Hou was here and witnessed them delivering the money to me. Before long, the whole of Su-zhou will know I own a shop in the capital. So if you use this money, Father, it’s perfectly justified—it’s neither the Han family’s funds nor money raised through desperate measures. No one can criticize it.”
It was indeed the most fitting solution.
Unexpectedly, the problem had been resolved so effortlessly. Master and Madam Han couldn’t help but smile in relief.
“You child, just a trip to the capital and you’ve stumbled upon such good fortune,” his mother said with a laugh, then swiftly changed the subject. “But who exactly is this ‘mistress?”
Han Yuanchao straightened his expression.
“I was just about to tell you, Father and Mother—though I’m not entirely certain. It’s less that I helped that chef, and more that someone else helped both him and me,” he said, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself. “Moreover, I suspect this person might be…”
He paused.
“Might be who?” Madam Han pressed, curiosity piqued by her son’s grave demeanor.
“Possibly from the family of Chancellor Chen Shao,” Han Yuanchao replied.
Chen Shao!
The expressions of Han Yuanchao’s parents froze in shock.
This was far more staggering than any amount of money they’d seen!
As a local magistrate, Master Han had served for over a decade without ever meeting a high-ranking court official. Yet his son, on a single examination trip to the capital, had somehow crossed paths with a grand chancellor!
“I remember who she is!”
At the very same moment, in the Zhang residence of Tongjiang County, a maid tossed down the robe she had been ironing, let out a shout, and dashed outside.
The other maids in the room were startled—one hurried to pick up the iron to prevent it from scorching the clothes, while another called after her, but the woman was already far gone.
“Madam, Madam—it’s her, it’s her!”
Kneeling breathlessly before Han Yun-niang, the maid left her madam puzzled. Seated nearby, Old Madam Zhang snorted.
“No manners at all,” she remarked coolly. “Yun-niang, you mustn’t indulge these servants.”
Han Yun-niang smiled faintly.
“Of course, Mother. Rest assured, I know my place,” she replied, her tone respectful yet firm.
Old Madam Zhang pursed her lips and said nothing more.
These days, she no longer dared to criticize this daughter-in-law at will. If she were to provoke another fatal episode, there’d be no finding another Lady Cheng to bring her back from the dead.
“Old Madam! Madam! That maid—she was the very one who treated Madam’s illness back then! It was her yesterday!” the maid cried. “No wonder she remarked that Miss Yuan had grown taller… Of course she’d recognize Miss Yuan!”
What?
The mother- and daughter-in-law both froze, then shot to their feet simultaneously.
“You mean that Lady Cheng who raised the dead?” they demanded in unison.
“Yes, yes! No wonder yesterday they spoke of ‘viewing a house’—they weren’t renting at all, but revisiting the past, wanting to see… Ah! Ah! That lady even gave Miss Yuan a bag of pastries! And that maid clearly knew Miss Yuan at first sight—how could I have missed it! Ah, ah…!”
The servant’s babbling faded into the background as both women stood transfixed.
“Mother, that lady—she was like a beauty stepped out of a painting…”
Han Yun-niang’s face lit up with astonished delight. Could it be her? So it was her all along?
“Quickly, go find them!” she cried, then—as if words weren’t enough—swept out the door herself in a flurry of robes.
“Find them, find them at once!” Old Madam Zhang echoed.
Find them so this divine doctor might leave us prescriptions. Then next time this daughter-in-law threatens life and death, I’ll have means to hand.
Though Tongjiang County was small, tracking down nameless, faceless strangers with no known origin or destination proved impossible. By the time they traced the trail to an inn three days later, Cheng Jiao-niang and her retinue had long since vanished down the road.
“They must have come from the capital—the attendants spoke with capital accents. But as for where they were headed, no one knows. They left at dawn four days ago…” the inn clerk explained.
Again—just like this. No, this time was slightly better; at least they knew the origin.
Was this fate or its opposite? Why must every encounter dissolve like mist before their eyes!
Han Yun-niang exhaled softly, gazing at the darkening clouds heralding the season’s first snow.
“Snow approaches… Everyone, quicken your pace!” Steward Cao called out. “Ten more miles and we cross into Jiang-zhou territory!”
After such a long journey, they were finally nearing their destination. The party erupted in cheerful shouts—all except one pale-faced figure who stood silent amid the jubilation.
“Young Master, what’s wrong now?” The old servant climbed into the carriage and looked helplessly at Wang Shi’qi-lang, who was huddled in a cloak in the corner. “We’re almost home…”
Wang Shi’qi-lang’s lips trembled.
“Which means my death approaches…” he croaked, tears welling in his eyes.
The old servant made a spitting gesture. “Enough of this ‘life and death’ nonsense.”
“Uncle Gu, I don’t want to marry that girl!” Wang Shi’qi-lang grabbed the old man’s sleeve and sobbed, then hastily lowered his voice as if afraid of being overheard.
The old servant smiled bitterly. This moment had finally come.
