Chapter 96

Chapter 96: Song’s Dilemma
At the county market.

After Qin Hui Yin sold the last portion of skewers, she turned and saw Tang Lu Wu hand off the last one too.

“Pack up,” she said.

Tang Yi Xiao folded the stools with quick, practiced movements. “We came a bit late today,” he complained. “We sold out three hours later than usual.”

Third Master Tang cleared the tables. After loading all the folding tables onto the ox cart, he came back to move the stall cart itself, grumbling the whole time.

“Didn’t you hear what those stall owners next to us said? A lot of our regular customers saw we weren’t here and thought we’d stopped coming, so they left.”

“Good thing we still showed up,” Tang Lu Wu said, tightening a rope around their bundles. “Late, but not too late.” The words ended with a glance toward the road out of town. “I just don’t know how Mother and Father are doing back home. Can the two of them handle Auntie Wang and Tang Ming Xiu?”

“Don’t worry,” Qin Hui Yin said, working faster. “Mother won’t let herself be taken advantage of.”

She said it like certainty, but worry still tugged at her. Then, looking up, she caught a familiar figure threading through the crowd.

She set down what she was holding.

“You keep packing,” she told the others. “I’ll go over for a moment.”

Tang Lu Wu blinked, confused. Following her gaze, Tang Lu Wu recognized the tall back and steady stride.

“Is that Song Rui Ze?”

At the sound of his name, Tang Yi Xiao looked up, sour as vinegar. “Why are you always getting involved in his business, Second Sister?”

Qin Hui Yin didn’t answer. Song Rui Ze should have been at the Dam Worksite. Why was he here?

She followed him and stopped short when she saw the signboard above the doorway: Zhang’s Blacksmith Shop.

Inside, Boss Zhang was shaking his head hard enough to rattle his hairpin. “Young man, you’re asking for a lot of goods. Normally I should give you a discount, but I run a small business. I really can’t do the price you’re asking for.”

Jiang Qi Bin stood beside Song Rui Ze, brows drawn tight. “Brother Ze, Boss Zhang is an honest man. This really can’t go lower. I think it’s the people above making things hard for us—otherwise why would they give us so little money?”

“Not the people above,” Song Rui Ze said. “Chen Zhe.”

Jiang Qi Bin’s face darkened. “Dam Foreman Yang isn’t giving you trouble anymore. He even assigned us the easiest work. We finally had a few peaceful days, and now Chen Zhe is in cahoots with Song Tie Gen. He’s doing this on purpose to make things hard for you. When we get back, we should go straight to Dam Foreman Yang and make a scene, so everyone knows Chen Zhe pocketed the silver meant for buying tools.”

Boss Zhang pretended he hadn’t heard the accusation.

“Boss,” Song Rui Ze said evenly, “we’re buying these goods to repair the Dam Worksite. We’ll be coming to you long-term. Could you sell us a batch at the price I said?”

“That price really is—”

“How about this?” Song Rui Ze cut in. “These tools can be improved. If I draw you better plans, will you sell them to us at that price?”

Boss Zhang’s eyes sharpened. “Oh? Which tools?”

“A lot of them can be adjusted with simple changes,” Song Rui Ze said. “After that, they’ll work better and save effort. Give me a brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone. I’ll draw them for you.”

Jiang Qi Bin looked at him with worshipful eyes. “Brother Ze, you can do that? I thought you couldn’t even recognize a single character.”

Song Rui Ze’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

He remembered teaching himself in secret.

Back when Li Tao Hua taught Qin Hui Yin to read in the courtyard, he would chop firewood nearby while stealing glances at the characters. More than once he nearly chopped his own hand. After they left, they’d forgotten to clean up the papers. He’d picked them up and read them, repeating what he’d memorized. When he hunted in the mountains, he’d trace characters in the dirt with a twig.

Reading had come. Drawing was another matter.

When the brush finally moved, the lines came out crooked and shaky.

Jiang Qi Bin snorted with laughter.

Song Rui Ze turned his head.

Jiang Qi Bin clamped a hand over his mouth at once, putting on a ridiculous, exaggerated “my mouth is sealed” expression.

Even Boss Zhang looked faintly horrified. With a drawing like that, even a good idea would be impossible to understand.

“All right, all right, stop messing around,” Boss Zhang snapped. “I know you’re working for the Dam Worksite, but you can’t expect a commoner like me to take a loss, right? I have a family to feed. I can’t do business that doesn’t make money.”

“Boss,” Qin Hui Yin said, stepping in, “who says you can’t make money?”

She’d been listening from the doorway. Now she walked over as if she belonged there.

Song Rui Ze’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“Hello, Sister,” Jiang Qi Bin said quickly.

“Hello.” Qin Hui Yin answered him first, then looked at Song Rui Ze. “I’ve been doing business nearby. I just sold the last of my goods. I was packing up to go home when I saw you walk past, so I came to see what you were doing.”

Boss Zhang snorted. “Little miss, you make it sound pretty, but it’s all empty prestige.”

“Who says it’s empty prestige?” Qin Hui Yin pointed toward the sign outside. “Hang a new board. Write: ‘The Imperial Court’s sole ironware supplier for repairing the Dam Worksite.’ Everyone will know the Imperial Court uses your iron tools. How could you ever lack business then?”

“The Imperial Court’s… sole supplier?” Boss Zhang echoed, curiosity stirring. “What’s a supplier?”

“A supplier is the merchant who provides goods for an official project,” Qin Hui Yin said. “If you handle the ironware, you’re the ironware supplier. In the future, whenever people mention repairing the Dam Worksite, they’ll praise your tools—the work is solid because the iron is good.” She smiled. “That’s not empty. That’s reputation you can spend.”

Boss Zhang’s face softened into a grin despite himself.

“But we won’t let you take a loss,” Qin Hui Yin added. “My brother said he can modify these tools to make them more useful. The only thing is, if he contributes, he needs a cut.”

Boss Zhang blinked. “A cut?”

“Profit-sharing,” Qin Hui Yin said. “After you recover your costs, you give a portion of what you earn to the one who helped. My brother improves your tools. Isn’t it fair for you to give him a ten percent share?”

Boss Zhang hesitated. “Ten percent… meaning…”

“For every ten copper coins of net profit, you give him one,” Qin Hui Yin said. “Your interests are tied together. The more you earn, the more he earns, so he won’t hurt you. He can even bring you more orders. That way he earns, you earn—it’s a win-win.”

Boss Zhang listened, stunned, but thinking.

Then his gaze slid back to Song Rui Ze’s crooked sketch, and his lips twisted. “But about this redesign…”

“It’s fine,” Qin Hui Yin said briskly, taking the paper. “I’ll draw for him. My brother and I work in sync—whatever he means, I understand it, and I can put it on paper for you. But we need somewhere quiet. People are coming and going here. If someone sees our plans and the news leaks, you won’t make any money.”

Boss Zhang’s eyes glittered. “If the plans you draw really let me make better, more useful ironware, I’ll agree to everything you said.”

“Words aren’t enough,” Qin Hui Yin said. “We need to sign a contract.”

“Sign it,” Boss Zhang said immediately. “We’ll sign.”

Qin Hui Yin turned to Jiang Qi Bin. “Brother Jiang, please go to that Always Smiling Eatery over there. Tell the old man and the brother and sister there that I have something to handle and will be delayed before heading back. Have them find a place to rest.”

“All right!” Jiang Qi Bin said, already halfway out the door.