It took Song Jinzhao seven days to finalize the deal for two adjacent shops.
Both shops were not very large. Besides the storefronts, each had a storeroom in the back. The advantage was that they were fully equipped, requiring no renovation, and were only a fifteen-minute walk from the house Song Jinzhao currently rented.
The two shops cost a total of six hundred taels of silver. The slightly smaller one, Song Jinzhao decided, would be used for a food and beverage shop, while the larger one would house a pharmacy and medical clinic.
The medicinal herbs gathered from the mountains weren't comprehensive, so she purchased some additional ones from local medicinal merchants.
Elsewhere, upon hearing the news, Li Tianchong looked at Li Zi'en with surprise. "Opening a medical clinic? Does Song Jinzhao know medicine?"
Li Zi'en nodded hesitantly. "She probably does. But a woman running a clinic... I'm afraid not many people would seek her out for treatment."
Li Tianchong's fingers tapped rhythmically on the scalding hot teacup. "On the day of the opening, pick out a couple of decorative pieces that attract wealth and protect the household to send over. Be polite about it. And completely dismiss any thoughts of taking her as a concubine from your mind. Don't think about it anymore."
Li Zi'en pursed his lips and gritted his teeth. You don't need to tell me; I wouldn't dare marry her anyway. I have no desire to be beaten up all day long.
Inside Anyang Academy, Yan Baoyi bumped into Song Qiming's shoulder with a smug expression as he walked past him.
Song Gaoli frowned deeply, leaning close to Song Qiming to whisper, "If this continues, even the outer division classmates will start avoiding you when they see you. We need to think of a solution."
Less than three days into the term, Yan Baoyi's dislike and targeting of Song Qiming were known to everyone in the outer division. With Instructor Ding backing him, many students, to avoid offending Yan Baoyi, had already begun steering clear of Song Qiming.
Song Qiming exhaled a breath of pent-up frustration from his chest. "Those who fawn on others for favor aren't worth associating with in the first place. At least the instructors treat me fairly."
Song Gaoli anxiously dragged his chair over to sit down. "The outer division instructors treat everyone equally, yes. But what about when we move to the inner division? Instructor Ding teaches the inner division."
"I think you need to find a master teacher whose status surpasses Instructor Ding's to formally study under. Then they wouldn't dare bully you."
With Song Qiming's status as the top candidate in the entrance exams, it wasn't impossible for him to become a disciple of a renowned teacher.
Song Qiming lowered his gaze, hesitating. "I want to become Master Ye's disciple, but he hasn't agreed yet."
Song Gaoli's eyes widened like copper bells. "Master Ye is still instructing you?"
Due to Scholar Zheng's request, Ye Liangyu had exceptionally guided them for three months. After passing the exams, when they visited him, his attitude remained limited to that brief tutorship, never hinting at any intention to take on disciples.
Song Qiming said quietly, "My elder sister is treating Master Ye's leg. Because of that connection, he takes extra care of me. I want to try."
A Second-Class Presented Scholar surely possessed more talent than the instructors at Anyang Academy. Moreover, he had once been an official. The ways of governance weren't something ordinary people could access.
At that moment, Song Gaoli just felt like sighing inwardly. Comparing people to others is truly disheartening.
Not only was he more gifted in studies, but he also had an elder sister who could help with everything.
People always said he was lucky, but Song Qiming's luck was clearly even better.
"I heard from a dormmate that several academy instructors have visited Master Ye, but were all turned away. If you can become his disciple, then even if Yan Baoyi tries any more underhanded tricks once we're in the inner division, out of consideration for Master Ye, they wouldn't dare do anything to you."
Before entering the academy, Song Gaoli only knew Ye Liangyu was a Presented Scholar and a former official. After entering, he learned the man had been a high-ranking third-grade official in the capital, one who could see and speak with the emperor daily.
If he could learn even half of what Master Ye knew, the provincial exams in two years wouldn't be a worry.
Song Qiming thought of the care Ye Liangyu had shown him recently. It already far exceeded the usual relationship between teacher and student. So why did he not answer when he brought up becoming his disciple?
Ye Residence.
Ye Liangyu's hands gripped the wooden frame, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat dripping from his chin onto the blue brick floor.
Yunhe, standing beside him with hands outstretched ready to support him at any moment, advised with concern, "Master, rest for a while. You can practice more later."
Ye Liangyu turned his head, wiping the sweat from his chin onto his shoulder. "No. The time isn't up yet."
Before, when the imperial physicians said it was incurable, he had no choice but to endure and wait for death. Now that there was hope, he was willing to try, no matter the cost.
Finally completing the morning's weighted training plan, Ye Liangyu collapsed into the wheelchair placed under the eaves, his entire body looking as if he had just emerged from water.
Yunhe handed over a damp towel.
After wiping the sweat from his body, Ye Liangyu instructed, "Go fetch Song Qiming's schoolwork from the table."
Yunhe swiftly turned and went inside to get the assignments.
"Master, what you're doing now is almost the same as a master teacher would. Why are you still unwilling to agree to take Song Qiming as your disciple?"
He clearly cared about the boy's studies, summoning him daily to ask questions and assigning separate work. He also genuinely appreciated Song Qiming.
Ye Liangyu placed the essay in his hand on his lap. "This child's path has been too fast and too smooth. I want to temper his character, to see how long he can persist."
"Also, I don't want him to think I'm willing to take him as a disciple only because his sister is treating my leg."
Yunhe's lips moved slightly. He hesitated, then spoke again. "But wasn't there a reason related to Miss Song when you considered taking him as a disciple?"
Ye Liangyu looked up at the sky. "Initially, yes, but it was only to look out for him a bit more."
"Later, it was truly because I saw promise in Song Qiming. The recovery period is long and arduous. Taking on a disciple to nurture might be good, at least it would keep my mind from stagnating."
Yunhe pressed his lips together and fell silent. He very much wanted to ask his master if, once his legs were healed, he would return to that place that devoured people without spitting out the bones.
But after a moment's thought, he felt asking was pointless. The answer was obvious, hardly requiring any guesswork.
Slave Market. The slave broker holding a pole with a flag for buying and selling servants looked at the young woman approaching, accompanied by a child and an older person, with surprise in his eyes.
What is someone so young doing here?
Song Jinzhao glanced at the flag and stepped forward to ask, "Are you Broker Zhao? I was referred here by the Jinyun Agency."
The broker raised an eyebrow, lowering his arms which were crossed over his chest. "Miss, are you looking to buy or sell servants?"
The Slave Market and agencies often had business dealings. Typically, when a newly relocated wealthy family bought a house and then wanted to purchase servants, the agency would refer them to a familiar broker, taking a small commission afterward.
Song Jinzhao said, "I want to buy two servants, one man and one woman, adults who can work."
With the shops about to open, between hiring workers and buying bonded servants, Song Jinzhao chose to buy servants. Having their life indentures in hand gave her more peace of mind.
The broker gathered up his flag pole and gestured ahead. "This way, Miss."
Inside a simple building facing the street, the courtyard was filled with people of various ages sitting or squatting.
They were sallow and thin, their expressions timid, bodies curled together. Apart from their clothes being relatively neat, they were almost indistinguishable from beggars.
As the broker led Song Jinzhao inside, the servants waiting to be sold looked up to steal glances at her, trying to discern if the newcomer looked kind, if she had money, if she could support them.
The broker summoned the able-bodied male and female servants of prime working age to stand in a row before Song Jinzhao.
"Take your time and have a good look, miss. These are all skilled workers, ready to be useful the moment you buy them."
Song Jinzhao's gaze swept over the faces of the eight people. "Stretch out your hands, palms up."
The eight of them presented their open palms before Song Jinzhao.
The woman had broad knuckles and very short-trimmed nails, with scars from frostbite on the back of her hands. Though without hair ornaments, her hair was neatly coiled. She had likely done rough work in a wealthy household.
The man's skin was chapped and extremely rough, his fingernails caked with dirt—clearly a farmer who had toiled in the fields for years.
There were also two with relatively fair skin and no calluses on their hands, probably maidservants who did delicate work.
Song Jinzhao looked at the slave broker. "Show me their deeds of sale."
The broker immediately pulled a stack of deeds from his bosom, extracting the top eight and handing them to Song Jinzhao.
"These people have clean backgrounds, absolutely no issues with their origins."
After reading the deeds, Song Jinzhao pointed to one man and one woman. "How much for these two?"
The man had been sold twice before, had done hard labor and knew how to drive a carriage. The woman was a rough servant from a merchant family, and most importantly, she was somewhat literate and knew basic accounting.
The broker glanced at the two Song Jinzhao had chosen. "The man, ten taels. The woman, twenty."
Song Jinzhao raised an eyebrow. "A female servant of her age typically costs around ten taels of silver. You're asking for twenty?"
That was enough to buy two.
The broker's wrinkles bunched up as he bared his yellowed front teeth.
"Though her age is a bit off, she can do embroidery and is somewhat literate. Selling at this price is already a loss for me."
"Qian Sanya, new goods have arrived!" A rough shout came from the front door.
The broker craned his neck to look, quickly waved for his underling to receive them, then turned back to haggle with Song Jinzhao.
"Skilled slaves in the market are all expensive. Since you picked her out at a glance, you must have seen her value. If you think it's too dear, you can look at the others. These are all only ten taels each."
Qian Sanya could tell Song Jinzhao had a discerning eye. Having seen the good ones, she surely wouldn't settle for the inferior.
He opted for a strategic retreat to push the deal.
The underling who had just stepped out ran back in a few steps, looking troubled. "Third Master, two of the goods aren't right."
Qian Sanya raised an eyebrow and said to Song Jinzhao, "Please wait a moment, miss. I'll be right back."
He instructed his underling to attend to Song Jinzhao and hurried outside.
Qian Sanya saw the two people lying in the cage, his eyes widening larger than a bull's.
"What are you dragging two half-dead invalids here for? I won't take them."
The slaver, seeing it was Qian Sanya who came out, improved his attitude considerably.
"They're already here, and there's nowhere to return them. Just take them, sell them cheap."
Qian Sanya raised an eyebrow. "How cheap? Just the medicine will cost me several taels of silver."
The slaver leaned in and whispered, "The woman, two taels. The man sold himself voluntarily, didn't ask for a single coin, just begged for a chance to live."
He bent down, pinched the man's chin, and turned his face. "Look at these features. Clean him up, let his wounds heal, and send him to the alleyways—guaranteed to fetch a good price."
Qian Sanya studied the face carefully for a long moment before asking, "What's their background?"
The slaver produced two deeds. "The woman's a peasant. She was abducted by bandits and lost her virtue. Her husband died, so her in-laws sold her off."
"The man's a beggar. When I found him, he'd been beaten half to death. He sold himself voluntarily to survive. He passed out because I forced three bowls of medicine down him."
Seeing the official seals and fingerprints were clear on the deeds, Qian Sanya grimaced. "Fine, carry them in. I'll find a physician to look at them."
Song Jinzhao had been chatting with the man and woman she had her eye on. They spoke directly without flattery, were honest but not dull. Compared to the others, these two seemed the most agreeable.
Song Shixue, standing beside her, noticed the newcomers and looked closely.
She quickly covered Song Anhao's eyes and nudged Song Jinzhao's arm with her own. "Elder Sister."
It was that little beggar with blue eyes.
Song Jinzhao looked up, but her gaze fell on another familiar face.
It was the woman who had been violated by Duanshan Lang at Half-Moon Cliff. Wasn't she handed over to the authorities to be taken back home?
Why was she here, covered in wounds, and sold?
The slaver carried the two to a corner under the eaves, set them down, took the money Qian Sanya handed over, and left.
Qian Sanya walked up to Song Jinzhao and ordered his underling, "Go find a physician from the alley, the cheapest one. Don't let these two die."
"Have you decided, miss? Still want these two?"
Song Jinzhao pointed at the unconscious woman in the corner. "How did she come to be sold?"
Qian Sanya glanced at Song Jinzhao, surprised she'd ask about a half-dead slave.
"Sold off by her in-laws. Her husband was killed by bandits trying to save her. She lost her virtue, her in-laws hated her for causing their son's death, and with her own family all dead and no one to back her, she ended up sold."
Song Jinzhao frowned. "Who beat her? Those injuries?"
Qian Sanya: "The slaver said when she was sold, they dragged her out of a pigsty. If it weren't for the fact that disfigurement hurts the price, that trouble-attracting face would have been ruined long ago."
Song Jinzhao's brows knitted tighter.
Seeing her expression change, Qian Sanya sensed something and asked curiously, "Do you know her, miss?"
Song Jinzhao looked expressionlessly at the broker, her tone icy. "There was a government bounty. I took the notice. I was the one who led the constables up the mountain to wipe out the bandit den that abducted her."
Qian Sanya was stunned. Meeting Song Jinzhao's cold, deep gaze made him feel a bit unnerved.
"Does the miss wish to buy her?"
Song Jinzhao walked to the corner, crouched down, and checked the woman's pulse. She had fainted from hunger, who knew how many days she hadn't eaten.
There were ligature marks on her neck, and external injuries on her arms from beatings with sticks. Judging by the wounds, one spot had been struck at least a dozen times. They hadn't been treated; beneath the purplish-red skin was congealed blood.
Remembering the woman's frenzied and resolute expression when she stabbed Duanshan Lang dozens of times, Song Jinzhao stood up and said, "I'll buy those two. Give this one to me."
Qian Sanya's mouth opened and closed. "I bought her for two taels. You should at least give me something, miss. Don't let me take a loss."
Song Jinzhao gestured with her chin towards the woman. "Treating these injuries of hers will cost at least a tael of silver. She's killed someone. Aren't you afraid of trouble if you sell her?"
The color drained from Qian Sanya's face as if struck by lightning. "Killed someone?" The slaver hadn't mentioned that.
No one dared buy a slave who had killed someone. If word got out, his reputation would be ruined!
Song Jinzhao: "If you don't believe me, send someone to inquire in Haoyue City. The constables at the county yamen all know. Over fifty slashes. The bandit leader who violated her was hacked into a pulp of flesh by her, impossible to gather even by hand, leaving only a head with eyes wide open in death."
His throat moved. "How does the miss know this?"
Song Jinzhao curled her lip in a seemingly joking, scornful smile. "I was standing right there at the time. I was the one who handed her the knife."
A chill ran down Qian Sanya's back, feeling as if his whole body was suspended over a bottomless cliff.
This girl looked only in her teens. How could she speak of killing not only without fear, but seemingly with relish?
