The green brick floor of the main hall in the Changping Marquis Estate was damp with rising moisture. Outside, the sun had already climbed high, yet its light seemed unable to penetrate this vast room where dozens had met their end.
Xu Youde stepped over the high, foot-catching threshold, his steps somewhat dragging. He raised a hand to tug at his collar, roughly pulling down the newly donned dark-blue court robe with its cloud-and-wild-goose pattern, signifying his rank of Associate Fourth Grade, shedding it from his arms like peeling an onion.
Beneath the official robe, his inner garment was already soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to his back and leaving a large, damp stain.
Xu Qinghuan sat in a master's chair off to the side, holding a coarse porcelain tea bowl. It was one brought from Jiangning, looking utterly out of place in this marquis's estate.
She did not rise to greet him, watching as Xu Youde casually draped the blue robe, symbol of imperial favor, over the dusty back of a chair.
"Among all the crimson and purple robes of the court, a Vice Minister in blue—it must be a unique sight in the Great Qian Dynasty." Xu Qinghuan pushed the tea bowl in her hand onto the side table. "Father, what excellent assignment did you receive at the Golden Luan Hall today?"
Xu Youde let out a heavy breath and plopped down into the main seat's chair. He didn't reach for tea but instead thrust his hand into his wide sleeve pocket.
A crisp clang rang out.
A dark-golden token engraved with a beast-faced coiling dragon was thrown onto the red sandalwood table. Immediately after, a bright yellow silk scroll was placed beside it, unsealed.
Xu Youde leaned back, trying his best to make his voice sound robust.
"Ahem, by His Majesty's grace, your father has been promoted to Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, rank Third Grade." He cupped his hands in a slight salute. "He also bestowed this token and a blank imperial edict. Said it's for me to assist in managing the Ministry of Revenue, with the authority to act as I see fit."
His gaze swept across the roof beams, deliberately avoiding Xu Qinghuan's eyes.
"To put it plainly, the Emperor has taken a liking to our tax-collecting skills from Jiangning. Here in the capital, shops stand row upon row, all backed by those great aristocratic families. The imperial treasury is empty. His Majesty finds it difficult to act himself, so he's sending your father to knock some sense into them, to collect the commercial taxes properly and step by step."
He leaned forward, hands on his knees, his tone suddenly becoming soft yet urgent. "Huan'er, the waters here in the capital run too deep. Your father will handle the pressure outside. This residence is large; you stay in the inner courtyard. If you need anything, have Li Sheng buy it. Whatever you do, don't go meeting those capital officials, and definitely don't attend any literary or poetry gatherings, understand?"
Xu Qinghuan stood up. She did not touch the golden token symbolizing special privilege but picked up the rolled imperial edict instead.
Truly an imperial edict—it felt extremely light in her hand, the silk brocade smooth to the touch.
Holding the edge with two fingers, she slowly unrolled it to reveal a vast expanse of blankness. Only in the lower right corner was a square, bright red imperial jade seal stamped squarely.
"Third Grade." Xu Qinghuan looked at that red seal. "Under the Great Qian's official system, when a local official enters the capital, the Ministry of Personnel must conduct an evaluation, and the Censorate must investigate. Even the most versatile frontier governor would, at most, receive a lateral transfer. Yet you, a Jiangning County Magistrate whose post was 'bought' through a contribution, in just half a day out, have leaped a full seven ranks to directly sit in the seat of a Vice Minister of Revenue."
She snapped the edict shut with a slap and dropped it back onto the table.
"And this blank edict. What is this? It's a death warrant where you can just fill in any name." Xu Qinghuan pressed her hands on the table's edge, leaning forward, her gaze forcing Xu Youde's evasive eyes to meet hers. "Father, do you really take me for a three-year-old child, to believe that nonsense about collecting commercial taxes step by step?"
In the hundred years since the Great Qian's founding, when had there ever been a precedent of bestowing a blank imperial edict upon a rootless merchant, asking him to leisurely collect taxes?
"Imperial power most values equivalence. He has given you power enough to confiscate property and exterminate clans. What he wants in return is certainly not just a few taels of loose silver." Xu Qinghuan pressed on, word by word. "What exactly is the price? How much does he want? And what's the deadline?"
Xu Youde's plump face twitched involuntarily.
Three million taels. Two months. If he said it out loud, there was no telling what madness this girl might resort to.
He hurriedly grabbed the cold tea from the side table and gulped it down. The lid clattered against the bowl's rim, making a fine, chaotic clinking. The tea flowed too fast, trickling down his chin into his collar. He didn't wipe it, just coughed dryly twice to cover up.
Xu Youde turned sideways, his back mostly to Xu Qinghuan, pretending to be deep in thought.
"What price could there be? Both thunderous wrath and gentle rain are the grace of the sovereign."
"What does a little girl like you know about court protocols? When the Emperor employs someone, he doesn't stick to conventions. If you're told to stay in the inner quarters, then stay. No more of this nonsense!"
In the midst of the stalemate, a disorderly and urgent sound of footsteps came from the connecting hall.
Li Sheng stepped over the threshold, holding an unsealed folded note in his hand. His expression was tense, his eyes darting swiftly between the Xu father and daughter before finally settling on Xu Qinghuan.
"Young Lady, we have a visitor outside."
Li Sheng handed her the note in his hand.
Xu Qinghuan took it. It was an extremely plain visiting card—no gold leaf, no cloud patterns, not even a signature or name. Just a clean sheet of paper.
"Who is it?" Xu Youde turned around, his brows knitted into a tight knot.
"Just two people came." Li Sheng lowered his voice, his chin gesturing towards the outer courtyard. "The master is dressed in a blue silk robe, looks like an ordinary wealthy idler. But the attendant following him is a martial arts practitioner, his steps make no sound. Most crucially..."
Li Sheng swallowed. "That attendant has a sword at his waist. The scabbard is made of black sharkskin, the hilt wrapped with gold wire. I once saw a diagram of an imperial bestowal—it's a specially made 'yanling' saber for the Imperial Guards. The scabbard is black sharkskin, the collar engraved with a five-clawed 'chi' dragon pattern. It's the special sidearm of the Imperial Household Department's royal guards."
Xu Youde drew a sharp intake of breath.
"Where are they?"
"Waiting outside the side gate. Didn't call at the door, just tossed this card in. Didn't come by carriage either, came on foot."
Bringing a royal, sword-bearing guard, using the side gate instead of the main, presenting an anonymous visiting card.
This protocol, this manner—it wasn't that of an ordinary capital official.
Xu Qinghuan glanced at the coiling dragon golden token on the table. Xu Youde had just received this hot potato at the Golden Luan Hall today, hadn't even figured out where to direct his first move, and already someone was blocking the doorway.
The capital's information network was denser than a spider's web.
"Open the side gate." Xu Qinghuan clenched the plain white visiting card in her palm, creasing it deeply. "Invite them in, and don't alert the eyes and ears from the Imperial Household Department in the front courtyard. Li Sheng, you lead them in personally."
"Yes." Li Sheng turned and quickly disappeared into the shadows of the connecting hall.
The time it takes to drink half a cup of tea passed.
Fine, hurried footsteps sounded in the long corridor.
A figure stepped over the threshold.
The newcomer appeared to be in his early thirties, wearing a plain blue straight-cut robe without any embroidery. His physique and complexion marked him as a skilled military man.
This was precisely the sword-bearing guard.
His steps were steady, each stride almost precisely the same distance.
He stopped in the center of the hall. He did not introduce himself, nor did he exchange pleasantries.
From his sleeve, he extended long, slender fingers, palm facing down, and lightly pressed them on the nearby tea table. As his hand moved away, it left behind a thumb-sized jade token.
A base of mutton-fat jade, devoid of extra carving. In the center, a single upright, lean, and stark character was engraved.
Three.
