noveltune Chapter 246 Qinhuai River
Chapter 246 Qinhuai River
Chapter 246 Qinhuai River
On the last day of the year of the Zhizheng era (1345), it was the day of Minor Snow.
The snow started falling last night, and by dawn a thin layer had accumulated, turning the black-tiled roofs and white walls along both banks of the Qinhuai River into the same color.
Just past Chen Shi (7-9 AM), the branches of the old locust tree at the alley entrance were already covered with icicles. When the wind blew, they jingled and tinkled, and the chill went straight to the bone.
The Zhu residence is located at the deepest part of the alley, occupying almost half of the original abandoned house site. It has been expanded eastward by one courtyard, and now has a layout of three sections and five courtyards.
From the outside, the storefront isn't particularly eye-catching: a black lacquered wooden door with a brass door knocker that's been polished to a shine, but the style is still the same as it was more than ten years ago, without even a stone lion.
But only those in the know would take a closer look at the threshold: the bluestone threshold is worn smooth and shiny from being worn down in the middle and high at both ends, indicating that the place is always bustling with people coming and going.
In Zhu Chen, the place where guests were received in winter was called the Warm Pavilion.
The three rooms were combined, and a row of large glazed windows purchased from Quanzhou lined the south side, which could be described as extravagant.
In the corner of the room, two gilded bronze charcoal braziers held silver charcoal, which was smokeless and odorless, with only a dark red glow emanating from the rim of the braziers.
The heat melted the frost on the doors and windows into water, which then condensed into fine droplets that trickled down one by one.
Several different smells filled the room.
The sour aroma emanating from the sandalwood furniture, the sweet and mellow fragrance of the yellow wine steaming by the charcoal brazier, the strong scent of styrax pills on someone's body, and the cool fragrance wafting from some unknown dish of fruit.
Four tall fruit platters were placed on the table, filled with dried lychees from Fujian, preserved bayberries from eastern Zhejiang, candied dates from Huizhou, and candied plum blossoms from Suzhou.
Zhu Chen wore a slightly worn sable fur coat today. The collar and cuffs were not trimmed, which looked low-key, but the fur was so neat and without a single blemish that it was a genuine top-quality product from the Jurchen region. With the Jurchen tribes rising and falling in rebellion, the price of these precious fur coats was increasing day by day, and they might be completely sold out one day.
After strode around the room with a powerful stride, Zhu Chen sat down on the daybed by the window and addressed the crowd, saying, "Report one by one, who wants to go first?"
"Uncle, I'm here." The speaker was surnamed Miao, named Miao Renfeng, Zhu Chen's nephew, and also the manager of three pawnshops and two gambling dens under Zhu Chen's control. He was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a thin, long face and a mustache. His voice was soft, his pace even, and his speech clear and distinct.
"I took over that shop near the North Gate Bridge last month. It has three storefronts and a two-courtyard layout in the back. It used to be a general store, but the owner went back to Huizhou and was in a hurry to sell it, so he only paid thirty-six ingots. I plan to open a pawnshop in the front and convert the back courtyard into a gambling den. The secret room will be in the back building. The tunnel has already been dug, leading directly to the back alley—"
Zhu Chen remained silent, but tapped his fingers lightly twice on the armrest.
Upon seeing this, Miao Renfeng immediately added, "The government has already been taken care of. Commander Liu received twenty ingots and agreed to help look after things."
Zhu Chen hummed in agreement and picked up the teacup beside him.
"Over at Jinling Tower—" he asked, "Has this year's profit sharing been settled?"
This time, it wasn't Miao Renfeng who answered, but Hu Si, who was sitting on a round stool.
Hu Si was thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, with a fair complexion and a soft-spoken manner, like a failed scholar. He managed two restaurants and a theater under Zhu Chen's name. Jinling Restaurant was one of them, located on the banks of the Qinhuai River. It had three floors and employed more than twenty cooks. The business was very good.
"I've got the calculations all figured out." Hu Si pulled a small folded book from his sleeve, opened it, and read a string of numbers in a flat tone, as if he were reading a textbook: "Jinling Tower made a net profit of 443 ingots this year, Zuixianju on Sanshan Street made a net profit of 212 ingots, and the theater over there—"
Zhu Chen waved his hand, not letting him finish reading.
"Put it here," he said. "I'll look at it again later."
This means "I know, but I may not necessarily watch it."
Hu Si and Miao Renfeng exchanged a glance, both understanding.
These days, Brother Zhu doesn't like to keep detailed accounts in his business. He only needs to know whether this year's profits or losses are greater than last year's, by how much, and whose responsibility it is if it's less. The rest is left to the appropriate people to handle.
There was another person sitting on a rosewood armchair against the wall.
This man's surname was Lu, and his given name was Lu Dashi. He was in charge of the brothel under Zhu Chen, and was also his uncle-in-law.
He was in his early fifties, short and chubby, with a round face that always wore a smile, like a Maitreya Buddha.
But this fat man owns five brothels and over a hundred women. Whoever he tells to serve customers has to, and whoever he tells to stay silent has to keep quiet.
His methods aren't about violence, but about control. He controls your entire family's livelihood, he controls your family's land, he controls you until you can't breathe and you're still grateful to him.
In addition, he had a "miracle cure" which involved using a red-hot branding iron to imprint the affected areas of the girl's genitals, a method that terrified people.
Seeing Zhu Chen put down his teacup, Lu Dashi slowly spoke: "Sir, a new batch of girls has arrived at the old brothel. They were chosen from Yangzhou, eight in total, the youngest being thirteen and the oldest eighteen. They've been training for three months, and they're all quite proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I'm thinking of holding a flower-viewing banquet before the New Year, inviting a few officials from the Grand Steward's Mansion to come and sit down, and each of them can choose one, and that will be settled. What do you think about Magistrate Zhang from Shangyuan County—"
"Forget about Magistrate Zhang," Zhu Chen said lazily. "He hasn't even warmed his seat yet, he wouldn't dare come to this kind of occasion. Let's ask Magistrate Wang instead. He's an interesting fellow; he's considered coming several times, but always backed out at the last minute. He's got the desire but not the guts, and he still has a bit of a pedantic streak in his head."
Lu Dashi nodded and then began to explain the brothel's income and expenditure.
The snow outside the window gradually stopped.
The roof was covered with a thick layer of snow, making the little animal figurines on the ridge appear shorter. An old servant was sweeping snow in the courtyard, the bamboo broom making a rustling sound as it brushed against the blue bricks, which mingled with the occasional crackling of the charcoal brazier inside the house, making one feel drowsy.
Zhu Chen yawned and said, "Alright, is the matter with the smuggled salt finished?"
Miao Renfeng, Hu Si'er, and Lu Dashi all looked at the person sitting in the corner who hadn't said a word.
That man's surname was Zhu, and his given name was Zhu Mancang. He would be turning thirty next year.
He was neither thin nor fat, but very well-proportioned. He wore a gray cloth robe and had nothing of value on him, looking like a dockworker. But now he was one of the people in charge of the smuggled salt trade under Zhu Chen, holding a very high position.
Called out by his elder brother, Zhu Mancang slowly stood up and said, "After the Imperial Censor entered Songjiang, the atmosphere became tense, and the Li brothers started selling salt on Pingjiang Road. This was originally a temporary measure, but unexpectedly, the two brothers tasted the sweetness of success and are now planning to officially enter Pingjiang Road to compete with us and the salt merchants for a share of the market."
With the Lunar New Year approaching, Mo Tianyou of Wuxi Prefecture hasn't bought much salt, still only 30,000 jin a month. I suspect he's getting salt from someone else, at least 8,000 jin a month, otherwise he'd run out of salt to sell in the twelfth and first lunar months.
There are salt smugglers from Huai River crossing the river to Changzhou Road. The patrol and inspection department only pretends to arrest them, but doesn't really take any real action, which is already affecting our ability to make money.
Zhang Sanniu said that it was entirely possible to supply salt to Jiangyin Prefecture, and he had already found someone there named Zhao Yangui, a descendant of the Song Dynasty.
Taiping Road ————
As Zhu Chen listened, he sat up straight.
The room suddenly fell silent. The silver charcoal in the brazier burned bright red, emitting a series of soft "pop" sounds, like someone carefully setting off firecrackers in the distance.
Zhu Chen remained silent for a while. Everyone in the room was waiting for him to speak, but no one dared to urge him.
After a moment, he said somewhat displeased, "If the patrol garrison doesn't dare to move, then we'll bribe the garrison to do something. Changzhou Road is so wealthy; it absolutely cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of others. If those useless garrison soldiers can't do it either, then we'll personally lead our men. I don't believe any of those Huai bandits have three heads and six arms."
As he spoke, he stood up and said, "Tell the Li brothers to get back to Songjiang right now, or I'll be very rude to them, and they can forget about getting salt from Xiasha, Qingcun, and other salt fields in the future. Mo Tianyou, Wuxi."
Zhu Chen thought carefully for a moment and finally remembered the fugitive nicknamed "Tiger".
"Send someone to Wuxi," he ordered. "Find out exactly what Mo Tianyou is doing, but don't alert him. As for selling salt in Jiangyin Prefecture, hmm..."
At this point, Zhu Chen paused for a moment.
He recalled his recent investigation into the red headband incident for the Southern Imperial Censor. To be honest, he hadn't paid much attention to it initially, and hadn't even assigned anyone to oversee it. However, with Cai Luan's rebellion in Taizhou, things suddenly became much more serious.
The censor of the Southern Terrace clearly intended to back down, leaving Vice Minister Han Yuanshan in a dilemma, which is why he took notice of the matter.
During his observations, he noticed the rapidly changing landscape of the smuggled salt market in Jiangyin Prefecture and saw Cao Luo, a righteous man rising like the sun. Give him two more years, and he could solidify the Jiangyin smuggled salt market, then attempt to expand to the surrounding areas, treating him, Zhu, as an enemy.
"Send someone to Jiangyin tomorrow to find Cao Luo and ask him if he's willing to take salt from me," Zhu Chen suddenly said. "If he is, leave him a profit of two or three hundred coins per jin. If he isn't..."
Zhu Chen yawned again and said, "After the New Year, we'll teach him a lesson."
"Brother is wise," they all said in unison.
Cao Luo has just risen to prominence and hasn't even established a firm foothold in Jiangyin Prefecture yet. This is the perfect opportunity to exert pressure and recruit him. Brother Zhu's timing is impeccable.
"Alright, it's already the last day of the lunar year. We'll be packing up in a few days and waiting for the New Year. Everyone's tired, so let's get some rest for a month or two." Zhu Chen waved his hand, preparing to go back to sleep; it was just too cold.
The snow started falling again outside the window, small flakes drifting slowly down, like someone scattering salt from the sky.
Amidst the cold wind and heavy snow, Shao Shuyi and his group boarded a boat, fully loaded with goods, and disembarked on the banks of the Qinhuai River.
In the freezing cold, snowflakes, carried by the strong wind, pierced straight into people's collars.
Their fingers were frozen like carrots, and their faces had cracked and bleeding.
"Don't just stand there, let's go!" Shao Shuyi called out, leading the group into a small alley.
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