Chapter 19.1

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The cold northern wind swept in through the window, dispersing the steam rising from the tea and further sharpening the clarity of the man’s features. His refined, strikingly handsome face carried an inherent sharpness, and his piercing phoenix eyes were so cold and intimidating that one hardly dared to meet them directly.

“You’ve gone to all this trouble to meet me, Master Zhao, just to say this?” Xie Zheng’s voice was calm but edged with displeasure.

The finely dressed man, Zhao, immediately understood that Xie Zheng was referring to his earlier pledge of loyalty and devotion. For a moment, he wondered if his casual remark about the marquis’s wife had touched a nerve. Hastily, he replied, “Of course, that’s not all.”

Zhao then presented a small brocade box. Seeing that Xie Zheng showed no intention of opening it himself, Zhao took the initiative to reveal its contents. Inside lay a collection of gleaming gold ingots and silver taels, catching the light with an enticing shine. His face held the practiced, affable smile of a businessman. “Would this be sufficient to show my sincerity?”

Xie Zheng cast the box a brief, indifferent glance. “Gold and silver are of no use to me,” he said coolly.

The man fell silent for a moment before suddenly rising to his feet and bowing deeply to Xie Zheng. “Zhao Xun is but a humble merchant, unworthy of the marquis’s attention. However, last year during the Lantern Festival, my younger sister went to the capital for the first time, only to be abducted by Wei Xuan at the festival and killed in his quarters…”

His eyes reddened, and his voice choked as tears streamed down his face. “If I don’t avenge her, I will have no face to meet my parents in the afterlife.”

Xie Zheng finally turned his sharp gaze directly onto Zhao Xun. “You managed to find me, and you also know of my enmity with the Wei family. That shows you have some skill.”

Zhao Xun hurriedly waved his hands. “I dare not take credit. The Zhao family’s business is neither large nor small, but it spans several provinces and keeps some dealings with the authorities. As a result, we hear more than most.”

He paused before adding, “Since Wei Xuan took over Huizhou, the marquis’s loyal generals have been systematically demoted and reassigned to remote borderlands. Meanwhile, the scholars under Wei Yan’s control in the capital have been publishing damning accusations against the marquis. That’s when I realized something was amiss.”

“I suspected the marquis had fallen on hard times,” Zhao Xun continued, his tone earnest, “and had my people quietly search for news of you, though without success. Just recently, however, the main city of Jizhou rounded up a large number of refugees, and a group of officials and soldiers from Huizhou arrived carrying a portrait, as though searching for someone among them. I used some methods to obtain a copy of the portrait from those Huizhou soldiers. The man in the image, with his commanding presence and striking features, led me to believe that they were searching for none other than the marquis.”

As he spoke, Zhao Xun’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and admiration. “It seems the heavens took pity on me. Not long ago, a batch of scholarly essays came into one of my family’s bookstores. The manager praised one essay in particular as a masterpiece of unparalleled quality. I read it and was struck by its brilliance, assuming it was the work of a poor but gifted scholar. Hoping to meet its author, I sought him out, only to discover—against all expectation—that it was the marquis himself.”

Xie Zheng said nothing, his long fingers continuing to tap lightly on the small redwood table. The rhythmic “tok-tok” of his fingertips against the wood was unnervingly steady, a sound that seemed to echo directly in Zhao Xun’s chest, stirring an uneasy tension within him.

Zhao Xun’s heartfelt explanation clarified how he had managed to locate Xie Zheng.

When Xie Zheng had been writing essays for sale, he had deliberately disguised his handwriting to avoid detection. That Zhao Xun had still managed to find him seemed, upon hearing the story, to indeed be a stroke of coincidence.

Xie Zheng remained silent for a long time, his lack of response seemingly unsettling Zhao Xun. Still, the merchant maintained his composure, refraining from saying anything further. His calm demeanor hinted that he was someone capable of getting things done.

At last, Xie Zheng lifted his eyelids slightly and spoke. “Take the banknotes in your brocade box and convert them into 200,000 shi of grain before spring.”

Zhao Xun was momentarily stunned, but his surprise quickly turned to delight. Though Xie Zheng had earlier dismissed gold and silver as useless, his instruction to convert the notes into grain provided a clear direction.

It wasn’t a simple task. Grain requisitions by the court typically occurred in autumn, with merchants buying up supplies during the harvest season, when grain was plentiful and prices were low. Now, at the end of the twelfth lunar month, surplus grain undoubtedly remained in the hands of the people, but prices would naturally be a few percent higher than during the harvest. Still, this premium was a manageable issue for someone like Zhao Xun.

The Northwest was not a land rich in grain. To secure 200,000 shi before spring, with the next harvest still far off, would put considerable strain on local resources. If any conflict were to arise in the region, the stationed troops would find it nearly impossible to requisition grain locally.

Realizing the gravity of the task, Zhao Xun’s heart raced. Bowing deeply, he said, “I will not fail the marquis’s trust!”

Hoping to curry further favor, he added, “Would the marquis and his wife allow me to procure a new residence for you, complete with servants to attend to your needs?”

Xie Zheng cast him a calm yet piercing glance. The silent intensity of his scrutiny, a quiet dominance hidden beneath his composed exterior, made Zhao Xun instinctively bow even lower, his spine bending another three degrees.

“Don’t overstep,” Xie Zheng said, his tone cold.