Speaking of it, the Zhou family’s current prosperity hadn’t come easily.
The Zhou family’s rise began with Zhou Bayue, the grandfather of Zhou Youfu.
Back then, Zhou Bayue was just a small peddler, carrying two baskets on a pole as he wandered the streets, selling needles, thread, cosmetics, and trinkets.
After accumulating some silver, he managed to lease a small shop in town.
It was a place to settle down.
Generation after generation, they worked diligently and honestly. By the time of Zhou Youfu’s father, the family was already a well-known local merchant business. By Zhou Youfu’s generation, it had expanded even further. Though not comparable to centuries-old aristocratic houses or wealthy merchant clans, the family could be considered comfortably well-off.
The turning point came when Zhou Shi married into the Weiyuan Marquis’s household.
That match was originally arranged by the old lady of the marquis’s family.
Although the Zhou family were merchants, Pei Fugui himself had no grand ambitions, so there was no strong need to use marriage for political leverage. Plus, Zhou Shi was virtuous and lovely in appearance. The old lady thought she was a fortunate girl, a perfect match for her second son.
Her second son also took a liking to her.
The matter was settled.
Once Zhou Shi married into the marquis’s household, the Zhou family’s business began to thrive.
With the protection of the marquis, many obstacles in trade were removed. Those checkpoints, local strongmen, and petty officials gave the Zhou family leeway out of respect for the marquis.
Over more than a decade, the Zhou family’s wealth multiplied several times, gradually expanding beyond the provincial capital.
But at this level, they hit a bottleneck.
When a business reaches a certain scale, it’s no longer a matter of personal effort but of competing with others for resources. The Great Qian dynasty had only so many trade routes and profitable enterprises. When you grow big, you inevitably attract envy.
The salt and iron trades aside—enterprises like tea, silk, and porcelain, any large-scale business, all have the backing of powerful clans. The Zhou family had money, but others were not poor. They had the marquis as support, but others had patrons no weaker. When it came to real silver and gold, no one backed down easily.
So, in those years, although the Zhou family’s business still turned a profit, it was increasingly difficult to grow further.
When Pei Cijing was eleven or twelve years old,
Zhou Youfu brought his sons to the capital and stayed at the marquis’s residence for a while. One day, in the main hall of the Fuyuan Courtyard, the family gathered for tea and conversation. Somewhere along the way, the talk turned to business matters.
Zhou Youfu sighed about their current dilemma: “Our Zhou family’s business has reached its limit at this point. Going further won’t be possible through hard work alone.”
The uncles all fell silent, clearly having pondered this problem for a long time.
But they had found no good solution.
Pei Fugui and Zhou Shi, of course, couldn’t offer much—they had never taken much interest in business affairs.
At that moment, Pei Cijing was sitting on a daybed by the window, eating pastries. With one hand holding an osmanthus cake and the other a bowl of almond tea, he listened quietly as the adults talked.
He hadn’t intended to speak up, but as he listened, his restless desire to show off got the better of him. A thought popped into his head, and his mouth moved faster than his mind:
“Grandfather, why must you keep your sights within the Great Qian dynasty?”
The hall fell silent for a moment.
The adults turned to look at the half-grown boy sitting by the window, still clutching half an osmanthus cake.
Zhou Youfu didn’t get angry or impatient.
This grandson was his favorite—not just because he was his daughter’s child, but because the boy had always been sharp, speaking and acting with a unique spark.
He set down his tea cup and explained gently, “We have thought about expanding beyond the Great Qian dynasty. But every route so far has been blocked. The trade route to the Western Regions is open, but it’s monopolized by the imperial family. We can’t touch a bit of it. The market trade with the northern tribes is controlled by a few great clans. We can’t get a foothold there.”
Pei Cijing smiled slightly at his grandfather’s words.
He put down the osmanthus cake, slipped off the daybed, walked to the window, clasped his hands behind his back, and lifted his chin at a forty-five-degree angle, gazing outside with an air of profound wisdom.
His silhouette looked both a little comical and serious.
Without turning around, he fixed his eyes on the view and said slowly, “Grandfather, have you ever thought about—going to sea?”
Zhou Youfu’s brow twitched.
Going to sea?
He was momentarily confused: “Going to sea—you mean fishing?”
Pei Cijing shook his head. “Not fishing. Going farther—like how earlier dynasties opened the Western Regions trade route. If we could find a maritime path to places no one has reached before, the rewards might be no less than those from the Western Regions.”
The hall went quiet again.
Zhou Youfu stared at the half-grown boy by the window, his expression gradually shifting.
In his decades of life, traveling far and wide, he had met countless people. But a boy of eleven or twelve who could speak such words—this was the first.
But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
He sat in silence for a long moment, then slapped his thigh heavily.
“Good!”
That single “good” startled Pei Cijing.
“Going to sea!” Zhou Youfu’s eyes lit up with startling brightness. His round face flushed with excitement. “Cijing is right! If we can’t move within the Great Qian, then go to sea! If the Western Regions route is blocked, open the maritime path!”
The uncles quickly caught on, buzzing with discussion:
“A maritime route is feasible. The Western Regions brought huge profits—a sea route could as well!”
“But the risks are huge. The sea is nothing like land. Wind, waves, reefs—any of them can kill.”
“Our Zhou family started as traveling merchants. What hardships haven’t we endured? Haven’t we faced risks before? As long as the profits are high enough, it’s worth a try!”
The hall buzzed with chatter. The uncles grew more excited, as if they could already see gold and silver treasures on the sea beckoning them.
Pei Cijing sat by the window, the osmanthus cake in his hand no longer tasting as good.
He had only wanted to show off, to impress everyone, to hear them gasp, whisper “This boy is extraordinary,” and satisfy his vanity in front of his family.
But looking at his grandfather and uncles, this was clearly becoming a real plan!
His heart sank.
Mess with the bull, get the horns.
He quickly cleared his throat, trying to backtrack: “Um... Grandfather, upon deeper thought, going to sea really involves considerable risk. The waves are fierce—if a ship capsizes, you might never find the body. And those reefs—hit one, and it’s ship and crew lost...”
He ticked off the dangers one by one.
But Zhou Youfu just nodded with a smile, not engaging.
The uncles only grew more excited, completely brushing off his “warnings.”
“We can hire coastal shipwrights to build vessels. We have the silver.”
“Labor is easy—there are plenty of experienced fishermen and sailors down south. Offer good pay and they’ll come.”
“As for reading wind direction and navigation, we can figure that out step by step.”
Zhou Dahe even stood up directly, pacing back and forth in the hall, his eyes shining like lit lamps. “Father, let me do this job! I’ve got a solid build, I’m not afraid of water—leave the sea voyage to me!”
Pei Cijing watched his third uncle’s eager expression.
His heart grew even more anxious.
His maternal grandfather was a man of his word; his first uncle was steady, his second uncle cautious, but his third uncle, Zhou Dahe, seemed gentle and mild-mannered on the surface, yet deep down he had a spirit of adventure.
Once the Zhou family set their minds on something, not even nine oxen could drag them back.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but the words died in his throat.
Talk about risks? They weren’t afraid.
Talk about difficulties? They were willing to overcome them.
Pei Cijing closed his mouth and silently sighed to himself. He could tell that the Zhou family had drive in their bones, along with their own inner ambitions.
There was no talking them out of it.
Forget it.
It was his own fault for not being able to keep his mouth shut.
Since he had stirred up this trouble, he had to clean it up. He couldn’t let his grandfather and third uncle charge headlong into the sea with blind faith, risking their lives to probe the way.
That night, Pei Cijing locked himself in his room. Gritting his teeth, he exchanged a book from the system—a thick manual covering all knowledge of navigation.
From shipbuilding, route planning, wind direction and ocean currents, to how to find direction, predict the weather, deal with pirates, and replenish fresh water and food at sea.
Everything he could think of was recorded clearly.
The book had been artificially aged—its pages yellowed, corners slightly curled, giving it the look of a family heirloom passed down through generations. In reality, it had cost him four thousand melon-eating points.
Four thousand points.
That was all the savings he had at the time.
It was what he had painstakingly accumulated after exchanging for the “Forest of Apricot Expert” skill. The moment he made the exchange, his system balance hit zero—not a single point left.
Pei Cijing stared at that thick volume.
His heart ached so much it twitched.
Still, it was just a book of recorded knowledge. If he had wanted to exchange for a skill like “Forest of Apricot Expert”—which directly instilled knowledge into actionable, hands-on ability—that was a different price altogether, and four thousand melon-eating points wouldn’t have been enough.
But regardless of the pain, what had to be given was given.
He couldn’t just watch his maternal grandfather and uncles risk their lives to conquer that sea.
The next day, Pei Cijing handed the navigation manual to Zhou Youfu.
Zhou Youfu took the book, opened the first page, read a few lines, and the look on his face changed. He flipped through a few more pages, and his hands began to tremble.
He looked up at his grandson, his lips quivering for a long moment before he squeezed out a few words: “Cijing, this book… where did it come from?”
Pei Cijing had already prepared his story. With a straight face, he said, “Grandfather, an old Taoist priest gave it to me. He said I had a connection with him, so he gifted it to me. I only came up with the idea of sailing after reading this book.”
Zhou Youfu didn’t doubt it at all.
After all, from the baby’s item-grasping ceremony back then, he had already seen that his grandson was blessed with good fortune. Now it seemed he was right—how else could a learned sage have bestowed this book upon him?
The wrinkles on Zhou Youfu’s face relaxed. He clutched the book to his chest like a rare treasure, no, this was a mountain of gold and silver.
What came next followed naturally.
The Zhou family began building ships, recruiting sailors, and preparing for the voyage. The first to lead the fleet and pioneer the maritime trade route was none other than his third uncle, Zhou Dahe.
The first voyage went on for two years.
Two years later.
The fleet returned.
Because of thorough preparation, not only did all the men come back, but they also brought a full ship of goods—spices, gems, ivory, pearls, coral—every item a rarity in the Great Qian Empire.
After selling that shipment,
the silver they earned
was more than the Zhou family’s total annual income.
From then on, the Zhou family’s maritime trade boomed.
It grew larger every year, traveled farther each trip, and the fleet expanded from the initial two or three ships to more than a dozen; their footprints gradually spread across the islands of the South Seas.
…
Those were all distant memories now.
The group chatted a little longer, and as the sun rose higher, it was nearly mid-morning. Someone from Yifu Hall came to announce that the meal was ready. The old mistress said that since in-laws had arrived, they should dine there, and it wouldn’t do to neglect propriety.
Hearing this, Pei Cijing helped Shen Ninghuan to her feet, then helped Zhou Youfu up as well.
The group left Fuguì Courtyard, walked along the covered corridor, and made their way to Yifu Hall.
The midday meal was laid out in the main hall of Yifu Hall.
The old mistress wore a dark blue jacket today, her hair combed impeccably, adorned with that jade hairpin. She carried an air of authority that was both dignified and approachable.
She had taken her seat at the head of the table early to wait.
When Zhou Youfu entered, the old mistress rose slightly, gave a small nod, and said warmly, “Our in-laws have come from afar; the journey must have been tiring.”
Zhou Youfu quickly bowed and replied cheerfully, “You flatter me, madam. It was abrupt of me to come and impose.”
After a few pleasantries, they each took their seats.
Pei Fucheng and Pei Fugui, the two brothers, accompanied as hosts. Li Shi and Zhou Shi bustled about arranging the dishes, while Pei Cijing and Shen Ninghuan sat at the lower end, eating quietly.
Dish after dish was brought out—there was Jiangnan-style steamed perch in light sauce, sweet-and-sour spareribs; Beijing-style roast duck and braised lamb; and a few Sichuan-style spicy dishes, meant to cater to Zhou Dahe’s palate—having spent so long at sea, he had acquired a taste for heavier flavors, finding ordinary dishes bland.
The old mistress raised her chopsticks, and everyone followed.
The atmosphere at the table was harmonious. Zhou Youfu spoke with wit, and after a few cups of wine, his smile grew all the warmer.
Though the old mistress was usually stern, she seemed quite curious about the sea voyages and asked a few questions. Zhou Dahe answered each one in detail, speaking with authority.
Pei Cijing noticed that the old mistress’s gaze toward his third uncle carried a hint of approval. Clearly, she admired his third uncle’s bold and enterprising spirit.
The meal ended with hosts and guests all thoroughly satisfied.
The table was cleared.
Maidservants served tea, and everyone sat talking for a while longer.
The old mistress set down her teacup, looked at Zhou Youfu, and said earnestly, “Our in-laws have come a long way. The day is growing late—why not stay in the mansion? I’ll have a courtyard readied; the bedding and covers are all prepared.”
Zhou Youfu waved his hand, chuckling, “Madam, your kind offer is deeply appreciated, but I must decline. On this trip, we’ve already found lodgings outside the residence, so we won’t impose.”
As he spoke, he pulled a ring of keys from his sleeve, jangling them in his hand—the keys were cast from bronze, gleaming faintly in the sunlight.
“In recent days, quite a few houses have come on the market in Shengjing, at much lower prices than in previous years. I had someone look into several places and picked one in a good location—already bought it. The courtyard isn’t large, but it’s more than enough for us.”
“After all, this time we might be staying for a while—most likely until Cijing finishes the spring examinations. I’m waiting to see my grandson’s name on the list of successful candidates.”
As he said this, he gazed at Pei Cijing with a beaming smile, his eyes full of expectation.
Pei Cijing was just raising his teacup to drink, but at these words, his hand jerked, and the tea nearly spilled.
His name on the list.
Those four words, spoken so lightly by his maternal grandfather, sounded as if they were the most natural thing in the world.
But to his ears, it was heavy—a boulder pressing down on his chest.
He cleared his throat, set down his teacup, and squeezed out a strained smile. "Grandfather, Imperial Examinations... well, it's hard to say..."
Zhou Youfu waved a hand, beaming. "You've been clever since you were a child, blessed with good fortune. Now that you're willing to work hard, passing the exams is as easy as turning over a hand. Grandfather believes in you."
Pei Cijing's mouth twitched. And you're way too confident, Grandfather, he thought.
He turned his head, silently pleading for help from Shen Ninghuan, only to find her sitting primly upright, a faint smile on her lips, not looking his way at all.
He glanced at his own father.
Pei Fugui was busy sipping his tea, pretending he hadn't heard a thing.
Pei Cijing took a deep breath and sighed inwardly.
Perfect. Now I've got another elder watching my every move. How am I supposed to survive?
And if—by some terrible twist of fate—he failed...
Pei Cijing shuddered, unwilling to finish the thought. The disappointment would be too much to bear. He cupped his hands, forcing his voice to sound steady. "Rest assured, Grandfather. Your grandson will do his best."
But in his heart, he was already wailing—
What do I do now?!
The pressure is just getting worse!
