Chapter 16: Falling into the River

Jiang Luan and Qi Shaolin walked side by side.

Jiang Luan had fair skin, striking features, and red lips with white teeth; Qi Shaolin, on the other hand, was tall and handsome, with a high nose, deep-set eyes, and rugged features.

Both were young and dashing men, attracting frequent glances from passersby as they walked down the street—a striking and well-matched pair.

But as soon as Qi Shaolin spoke, he gave himself away.

“Wife, let’s go watch the street performers! That person’s fire dragon breath is so long and amazing!” Qi Shaolin looked back toward a direction, his eyes full of longing.

It was also Jiang Luan’s first time walking along an ancient street, where dazzling goods and bustling crowds made everything feel fresh and new.

Yet he forcibly restrained his curiosity and said, “What’s so interesting about street performances? Let’s handle business first, behave.”

“Oh, alright.”

Qi Shaolin obediently stuck close to Jiang Luan like a well-trained golden retriever.

Jiang Luan originally wanted to see if Qi Shaolin would look disappointed again, but seeing the young man dressed in the black fur-lined coat he had tailored himself, with a fox head ornament on his left shoulder—tall, strong, and handsome—he found himself growing fonder, much like looking at a child he had raised.

So he bought a skewer of candied fruit to cheer the boy up.

Qi Shaolin was indeed delighted to get the candy and, being sensible, stood in front of Jiang Luan and said, “Wife, you eat first!”

“I’m an adult now, I don’t eat it. You eat it yourself,” Jiang Luan replied casually.

Qi Shaolin was displeased. “But I’m an adult too, so I won’t eat it either.”

“You’re eyeballing the candy as if you’re about to grow sugar balls on your eyes,” Jiang Luan chuckled. “Stop talking nonsense, just eat it!”

“...”

Qi Shaolin stared at him intensely, stubbornly refusing to eat.

Jiang Luan had to give in. “Fine, I’ll eat one, just one.”

“Hehe, wife, you eat the big one.”

Qi Shaolin fed Jiang Luan a piece of candied fruit, and Jiang Luan thought to himself that the syrup was indeed well-made.

He hadn’t had a snack like this since graduating from elementary school.

Qi Shaolin’s goal was achieved; he was visibly happy and almost ready to frolic on the spot.

Jiang Luan thought the boy was silly... but also adorably so, and wanted to reach out to pat his head.

Unfortunately, Qi Shaolin, never having known a proper upbringing, had grown damnably tall.

While eating the candied fruit, Qi Shaolin noticed Jiang Luan’s hand pulling back. “Wife, do you want to touch me? Here, let me give you a chance!”

He deliberately leaned forward to make it easier for Jiang Luan to pat his head.

“Eh, okay, okay!”

Jiang Luan suddenly realized such affection in public was too cloying and attracted even more curious glances.

Qi Shaolin probably didn’t venture out often, so not many in Yunjiang knew the Qi family’s foolish young master.

An elderly couple holding hands passed by, casting frequent sidelong glances with secretive smiles, speaking quite loudly, “They must be a newlywed couple...”

Jiang Luan: “...”

Qi Shaolin curiously asked, “Wife, why is your face so red?”

“Stop playing around!” Jiang Luan snapped. “We need to hurry to the money house.”

The Qi family’s money house was located at the river’s end, beneath the weeping willows.

The sign read “Money’s Here,” plain and straightforward.

Jiang Luan had deliberately chosen this money house because Zuo Lang had mentioned that the Qi family usually conducted their buying and selling transactions through it.

If he wanted to find any flaws related to the Duke of Suping, checking the accounts was undoubtedly the best approach.

Zuo Lang had hinted that although the Duke of Suping was a royal relative, his monthly stipend was only about a hundred taels, while the Qi family’s pocket money each month was only a few dozen.

Yet the household expenses were extravagantly high.

But standing now in this white-walled, green-shaded courtyard, facing the simple but elegant red-painted building, Jiang Luan suddenly thought, “Maybe I could start a business here.”

“Come to exchange money?” A slightly plump middle-aged man sat on a small stool at the door, slurping noodles, and replied indifferently, “No business today, come back tomorrow.”

This kind of service… Jiang Luan was speechless.

“You don’t recognize me? How about him?”

Jiang Luan stepped aside to reveal Qi Shaolin trailing behind.

Qi Shaolin held a kite in one hand and a candied fruit in the other, looking puzzled.

The man glanced up briefly but lowered his head in boredom… then suddenly raised it again to scrutinize Qi Shaolin several times.

“You…” the man hesitated, “Young master? You’re not supposed to be up in the mountains, why come down to the city to play?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jiang Luan snapped in fury but laughed bitterly, “Is your young master some wild man who should stay in the mountains all day?”

“...Then who are you?” the man asked.

“I’m your young mistress.” Jiang Luan ignored him and strode toward the building. “Where’s the money house manager?”

The small building was exquisitely decorated. Opening the door revealed a sheer screen embroidered with dragons and phoenixes; inside, a golden abacus hung on the wall, and a God of Wealth statue sat on the counter.

But the building was completely silent, with no one around.

Jiang Luan ran his hand over the table—covered in dust!

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

The man followed him inside. “Madam, I am the manager…”

Jiang Luan looked at the round-faced, cheerful man several times and was somewhat speechless. “So it’s just you?”

“Usually not many customers come, so it’s just me,” the man said with amazement.

Jiang Luan grew more curious about what exactly this money house did.

Judging by the manager’s somewhat dull expression, she wondered how he had gotten the job.

“Hey, there’s a bug!” Qi Shaolin chased a small insect into the inner room.

The plump man called out anxiously, “Young master, please be careful, don’t step too hard or the floor might crack!”

“...” Jiang Luan massaged his forehead. “What’s your name?”

“My surname is Zhen,” the man replied, “Given name: Youqian.”

What a name—Really Rich!

Jiang Luan twitched his mouth. “Don’t tell me they hired you as manager just because of your name.”

“Hey, that’s unfair,” Zhen Youqian frowned. “I was hired for my quick abacus skills. I’ve been managing this place for twenty years. Want me to show you a demonstration?”

He reached for the golden abacus on the wall.

“Alright, enough showing off,” Jiang Luan stopped him hurriedly. “I came because the old master entrusted me with managing this money house. I’m just going through the formalities and checking the accounts.”

“Oh, checking accounts? Feel free to look,” Zhen Youqian said readily, turning to rummage behind the counter, murmuring, “There aren’t many pages anyway…”

Jiang Luan: “...”

“Found it.” Zhen Youqian produced a brand-new ledger, blew off the dust, and handed it to Jiang Luan. “This is the money house’s account book.”

Jiang Luan took it, somewhat at a loss. “That’s all there is?”

“This is the external ledger for this year. That’s about it,” Zhen Youqian said listlessly. “There are older ones too, but they’re locked in the warehouse. If you want to see them, I can get them for you.”

“Forget it, I’ll look at this first.”

Jiang Luan found a cleaner chair to sit, flipped through a few pages, and quickly understood why the ledger was so thin.

Apparently, this Qi family money house basically only did currency exchange, with very few deposits—truly a modest operation, no wonder there was only one branch.

Before Jiang Luan could ask further, Zhen Youqian explained, “Please don’t blame me for poor management. The Qi family never really focused on money lending. The largest money house in Yunjiang is ‘Baolong Silver Bank,’ which has dozens of branches across Daqing. We’re squeezed out and have little business.”

Jiang Luan understood Zhen Youqian’s predicament.

Still, the old master had boasted big before, so Jiang Luan needed some real evidence.

He had thought up a plan as soon as he entered, so he wasn’t anxious—he would complete this mission first.

“You said this is the external ledger,” Jiang Luan said. “I heard the internal accounts also pass through here. Do you have those ledgers?”

“We do, but most are handled by the Duke’s clerks. I only record the transactions,” Zhen Youqian rummaged again and produced another ledger. “This is this month’s income and expenses.”

This ledger was noticeably thicker.

Jiang Luan flipped it open casually. It was neatly categorized, recording household expenses, income and outgoings from farms, restaurants, and other businesses in detail.

Despite his dull appearance, Zhen Youqian’s bookkeeping was surprisingly meticulous.

Jiang Luan’s impression of him improved greatly, and he politely asked, “Could you bring out all the internal accounts for this year for me to examine?”

“Sure.”

Zhen Youqian didn’t hesitate, took the key, and went to unlock the warehouse door.

Jiang Luan sat back down and studied the ledger carefully.

The Qi family’s income was mostly from grain stores, gold shops, brothels, and gambling houses.

The gambling house alone brought in two thousand gold coins a month, showing the Qi clan’s considerable wealth—no wonder the Duke of Suping coveted their assets so much.

Expenses, apart from household use, were mainly for private soldiers.

Since ancient wealthy families often kept private guards, this wasn’t surprising.

Jiang Luan wasn’t a finance expert and wasn’t particularly sensitive to numbers, but a quick scan revealed nothing amiss.

Zhen Youqian brought all the internal accounts for the year over to Jiang Luan.

Jiang Luan had hoped to catch the Duke of Suping’s misstep but began to suspect he might be judging too harshly—so he picked up the next ledger.

“Flower cakes!” Qi Shaolin came running back after chasing the bug, suddenly exclaiming excitedly at the door.

Jiang Luan looked up and saw a smiling woman carrying a basket, followed by a slender girl about thirteen or fourteen.

“Greetings, young mistress! So the young master is here too, sharp eyes indeed!”

The visitor was Hua Zhao, the Duke of Suping’s chief maid.

Jiang Luan hadn’t expected her arrival and immediately grew wary. “You…”

Hua Zhao nodded politely to Jiang Luan, set down her open basket on the table, and began taking out plates of snacks, explaining as she went:

“Young mistress, you need not mind what the Duke said at breakfast this morning. He knows he spoke out of turn; he’s stubborn but soft-hearted. I was worried you hadn’t eaten well this morning, so I brought some food and came straight over. Since the young master is here too, you can all share.”

Qi Shaolin’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Jiang Luan. “Wife, can I eat some?”

Jiang Luan frowned slightly but said nothing.

Hua Zhao then spoke to Zhen Youqian, “Boss Zhen, I saw your daughter on the road and brought her along.”

She nodded to the small maid beside her. “Xiuxiu, sister brought some snacks. Let’s eat together.”

The little maid was dusty and thin, with a round face but otherwise looked nothing like her father.