The study was thick with the scent of ink.
Xu Qinghuan gripped a brush, the shaft slick with sweat in her palm. Unpracticed in calligraphy, her wrist was stiff, dragging the brush tip across the xuan paper to leave a thick, black ink stain.
"Write it bigger."
Xu Qinghuan stabbed the brush into the inkstone, its bristles soaking up the ink. She stared at the character for "money" on the paper, already a blurred mess, and decided it wasn't bold enough. She added an even thicker circle beside it.
Cui'er stood by the table grinding ink, her wrist aching, but she dared not stop.
"Miss, once these invitations go out, your reputation will truly be gone."
Cui'er looked at the stack of finished 'invitations.' They were nothing of the sort—the paper was coarse, the handwriting scrawled, exuding a bandit-like ferocity that seemed ready to chew people's bones to dust.
"That's exactly what I want."
Xu Qinghuan slapped the paper onto the table, splattering two drops of ink onto the back of her hand. She didn't mind; she even felt the ink spots added a fitting touch to this extortion letter.
"Tell the constables to change clothes. No official uniforms. Find those butcher's tunics, roll the sleeves up, show some arm muscle."
Xu Qinghuan pushed the invitations into Cui'er's arms, her tone urgent.
"Don't be polite when delivering them. Bring the knives. Tell these moneybags: tomorrow at noon, the county office is hosting a banquet. Each person brings one hundred taels of silver to enter. One coin short, and they can forget about doing business in Taoyuan County from now on."
The countdown on the system panel was still ticking. The task of one hundred thousand taels pressed down on her like a mountain. The family had no money, her father's private coffers were empty; they could only scrape the land.
And since they were scraping the land, they had to look the part.
The constables acted swiftly.
In less than an hour, dozens of invitations reeking of ink were delivered to the mansions of every major wealthy household in the county.
The Wang residence, south of the city.
Squire Wang had just picked up his teacup when the invitation was slapped onto the table. The constable delivering it had a face full of rough features, a knife at his waist, its scabbard banging against the table with a thunderous noise.
Squire Wang's hand trembled, tea splashing onto his hand, scalding it red.
He didn't bother to wipe it, picking up the paper instead.
A single character on the paper: Money.
Below it, a line of smaller script: Tomorrow at noon, a chat at the county office. Entry fee: one hundred taels. Latecomers not entertained.
Squire Wang's calves began to tremble. This was slaughtering the pig. The Xu family, finding the old rice case hadn't yielded enough, was now preparing to butcher their flock of fat sheep for the New Year.
"Go... to the treasury," Squire Wang's throat was dry, his voice cracking. "Count out all the silver on hand. Then intercept half the cash flow from the shops. No one sleeps tonight. All of you, gather money for me."
That night, the lights in Taoyuan County burned brighter than usual.
The next day at noon.
The doors to the rear hall of the county office stood wide open.
The threshold was high. Squire Wang stumbled as he lifted his leg over it, nearly kneeling on the ground.
No banquet was set in the hall, only a few rows of benches. The plaque reading "Impartial Justice" that usually hung in the center was gone, replaced by a sign made of red paper with four large characters: "Attract Wealth and Treasure."
Two rows of constables stood around the perimeter, holding intimidation rods, the tips planted on the floor. No one spoke.
Oppressive.
Dozens of wealthy merchants squeezed onto the benches, none daring to breathe loudly. They glanced at each other, seeing the same ashen, deathly pallor on every face.
Each had silver notes tucked in their bosoms—that one hundred taels was ransom money for their lives.
Footsteps sounded from behind the screen.
Xu Qinghuan walked out.
She wasn't wearing the elegant gown of a refined young lady, but had changed into a bright red robe with gold-thread embroidery at the collar. No hairpins or ornaments adorned her head, only a single wooden hairpin.
She walked to the front of the hall but didn't take the main seat. Instead, she planted a foot on a chair, her skirt hitched up to reveal satin boots underneath.
Thwack.
A wooden gavel slammed against the corner of the table, sending wood chips flying.
The hall flinched as one.
Xu Qinghuan's gaze swept over the crowd. These were people of status and face in the county, yet now they huddled like quails.
"I've called everyone here for one simple matter."
Xu Qinghuan leaned forward, elbows on her knees, idly toying with the gavel.
"Times are tight lately. I want to borrow from your money pouches for some fun. Who agrees? Who objects?"
Silence fell in the hall, so quiet one could hear breathing.
Borrow?
This was plainly robbery.
Squire Wang was the first to slide off the bench, his knees hitting the blue brick floor.
"Miss, it's not that this humble one won't lend. It's truly... business is hard!"
Squire Wang wept, tears and snot flowing, pulling a cloth bundle from his bosom. With trembling hands, he placed it on the floor and untied it. Inside were one hundred taels in silver notes.
"This is this humble one's burial money, all for you. I beg you, Miss, to be merciful and spare this lowly life."
With someone leading the way, the others followed, kneeling.
"Miss Xu, the drought this year is severe, our shops are about to close."
"This is my family's food money for the year, please take it."
A pile of silver notes soon accumulated on the floor.
Xu Qinghuan looked at the money. One hundred taels per household, a few dozen households added up to only a few thousand taels. Far from the one hundred thousand needed.
These old foxes were crying poverty.
Xu Qinghuan knew perfectly well these people couldn't possibly have so little in their treasuries. They were afraid the Xu family's bottomless pit could never be filled and wanted to use this pittance to send the plague god away.
That wouldn't do.
They had to be made to bleed.
"Think it's too much?"
Xu Qinghuan sneered, kicking the table.
"I'm not taking it for nothing."
She beckoned to Cui'er.
Cui'er walked up carrying a tray. It held no gold, silver, or jewels, just a stack of cardboard pieces.
The cardboard was cut unevenly, edges still rough with fibers. Vermilion brushstrokes marked them with numbers: One, Two, Three...
Xu Qinghuan grabbed one piece, holding it up between two fingers and giving it a shake.
"This is the Xu family's issued VIP Pass Token."
Dozens of pairs of eyes below stared at that shabby piece of paper.
"Two hundred taels per card."
Xu Qinghuan raised her voice.
"Buy this card, and henceforth in Taoyuan County, you are my people, Xu Qinghuan's people. In these parts, no matter who it is, or what ghosts and monsters they might be, they'll have to show some respect at the sight of this card. If anyone dares audit your taxes, just drop my name."
The air froze.
No one moved.
No one reached for their money.
The merchants hung their heads, eyes darting nervously.
Two hundred taels for a scrap of paper?
This was no talisman for protection; it was a death warrant. Accepting this card meant being lashed to the same boat as the corrupt official Xu Youde. If the imperial court ever investigated, this card would be ironclad proof of collusion with officials, leading straight to confiscation of property and extermination of the clan.
Xu Qinghuan's arm, held aloft, was growing sore.
These people weren't budging.
The atmosphere was stuck in a deadlock.
Xu Qinghuan grew anxious inside. If these didn't sell, today's setup would be pure extortion—not enough money and a bad reputation to boot. While she wanted the infamy, she wanted to hit her task quota even more.
"What? Looking down on me?"
Xu Qinghuan slammed the cardboard onto the table.
"Men."
The constables lifted their intimidation rods.
Just then, a man stood up from the corner.
"Hold."
The voice was not loud, but steady.
Xu Qinghuan looked over.
It was the man who had drunk the muddy soup at the porridge kitchen that day. Today he wore different clothes, looking like a wealthy merchant from out of town—the fabric expensive, but no jade pendants or sachets adorned him.
Xiao Jingyan walked forward.
He went straight to the table and picked up the cardboard piece marked "One."
The cardboard was coarse, a smudge of ink still on it.
Xiao Jingyan rubbed the surface with his thumb, a flicker in his eyes.
"Miss Xu."
He looked up, ignoring Xu Qinghuan's bandit-like demeanor, and focused only on her eyes.
"Is this card truly good for unrestricted passage throughout this county town?"
Xu Qinghuan felt a bit unnerved under his gaze and retorted with forced bravado.
"Of course. In Taoyuan County, my father's word is law, and so is mine. With this card, if the sky falls, the Xu family will hold it up."
Xiao Jingyan smiled.
He turned and raised that piece of cardboard, displaying it to the wealthy merchants below who were hunching their shoulders.
"Gentlemen."
Xiao Jingyan's voice was clear and mellow, cutting through the noise in the hall.
"What is this, if not merely a card? This is a franchise license."
Someone below looked up, face blank with confusion.
Xiao Jingyan pointed at the cardboard in his hand.
"Since ancient times, what merchants fear most are exorbitant taxes and levies, and layers of exploitation. The yamen runners demand money, the local ruffians demand money, passing checkpoints demands money. By year's end, seventy percent of the profits are gone."
Squire Wang listened intently, his eyelid twitching. This was the truth.
"But with this card."
Xiao Jingyan shook the cardboard.
"It means you are registered with the county yamen. From now on, your business in Taoyuan County is under official protection. These two hundred taels aren't for buying paper; they are for buying freedom from all those messy, outstretched hands! They turn those under-the-table greasing of palms into an open, contractual agreement!"
"This is about regulating the market."
Xiao Jingyan looked at Xu Qinghuan, his eyes shining.
"Miss Xu is a genius. This is about establishing rules for merchants, paving the way for business."
Xu Qinghuan's mouth hung open.
She wanted to say this was extortion, this was protection money, this was organized crime. How, in this man's words, did it become about establishing rules?
But she couldn't refute it.
Xiao Jingyan took a banknote from his sleeve and slapped it on the table.
"Two hundred taels. I'll take License Number One."
The banknote was universally exchangeable, its face crisp and new.
The hall fell deathly silent.
Squire Wang stared at that banknote, his mind racing.
This young master's bearing was extraordinary. Even he bought one, and he was the first to do so. There must be something to this.
The Xu family was planning something big. If this card could truly ward off disaster, two hundred taels was nothing; five hundred would be worth it. And if you didn't buy one, and later everyone else had a card except your own family, wouldn't the yamen runners and ruffians specifically target you for bullying?
This was a token of allegiance.
"I... I want Number Two!"
A voice exploded.
Zhao Si tumbled out from the crowd, waving a banknote in his hand.
"Miss Xu! I want Number Two! I'll pay double... no, I'll pay the two hundred taels right now! Don't anyone dare snatch it from me!"
Zhao Si was a plant, but he played his part convincingly. That fear of missing out wasn't feigned. Because he saw Xiao Jingyan buy one. Since this important figure had entered the game, this must be a golden opportunity.
"Give me one! I want an auspicious number!"
Squire Wang caught on, jumping up and rushing towards the table.
"My money's right here! Give me that Number Eight!"
With someone taking the lead, panic turned into greed.
The wealthy merchants went mad.
They scrambled to push towards the table, waving their banknotes in the air. Terrified that if they were a step late, they would become orphans abandoned by the authorities.
"Don't push! I want that one!"
"This is my money!"
Banknotes rained down on the table like snowflakes.
Xu Qinghuan was jostled backward until her lower back hit the screen.
She watched the farce unfolding before her.
That stack of worthless cardboard was snatched up in the blink of an eye. The banknotes on the table piled into a small hill; a rough estimate put it at nearly ten thousand taels.
Her system interface was refreshing frantically.
Xu Qinghuan clutched a handful of the cardboard slips she hadn't managed to give away earlier, her fingertips turning white.
She looked up and glanced at Xiao Jingyan.
That man, holding License Number One, stood outside the crowd and gave her a slight, approving nod.
As if looking at a kindred spirit.
Xu Qinghuan wanted to throw the cardboard in her hand right at his face.
This world had gone mad.
Extortion had become franchising. Scrap paper had turned to gold.
She just wanted to be a villain.
Why was it so damn hard.
