Chapter 315

Eating vegetarian during the New Year left Wang Xiujin utterly speechless. Could abstaining from meat for just three days really invoke heaven’s blessing for favorable weather? Was this some archaic folly born from ancient ignorance of science? Not entirely. There is a saying: “Sincerity brings efficacy.” Perhaps the emperor’s genuine heart could move heaven and earth, reducing disasters this year and easing the hardships of the people. As for someone like him, whose sincerity was lukewarm at best, he merely hoped to be overlooked by the heavens altogether.

After three days of vegetarian fare, the moment Wang Xiujin caught the scent of meat, he couldn’t help but sigh. Then he wondered, how do monks endure eating vegetarian every day? He had barely managed three days, nearly breaking his resolve. Fortunately, the emperor had not decreed ten or fifteen days; otherwise, he might have resorted to sneaking bites. By rights, he shouldn’t be this way—after all, he was accustomed to a steady stream of delicious delicacies year-round, and the emperor occasionally rewarded him with rare treats. Three days without meat felt like something vital was missing, his palate dull and craving, a hunger that embarrassed even himself.

At the start of the year, the emperor first performed ancestral rites, praying for the eternal prosperity of the Daliang dynasty. Then came the blessing ceremonies, beseeching heaven for favorable winds and rains and the victorious return of soldiers from battle. Ancestral rites did not concern Wang Xiujin, but Li Linshan was summoned to oversee the security of the ceremonial guard, signaling the emperor’s esteem for the Li family. At the subsequent blessing, the emperor specially named Wang Xiujin to attend, joking that he was the reincarnation of the God of Wealth. The grand compliment left Wang Xiujin both honored and anxious, hastily demurring that many others were more talented at making money, and he was merely lucky—just shy of claiming he had clung to some mighty patron.

He repeatedly professed his loyalty to the emperor, who laughed heartily. Wang Xiujin wiped the sweat from his brow in private, wondering what the emperor truly meant. Was the treasury running low and the emperor seeking more funds from him? Or was there suspicion toward him? Neither seemed likely. If there were suspicion, he would not have been invited to such a sacred ceremony. Though he was a high-ranking imperial merchant, he was not ordinarily deemed fit to participate in such rites. As for finances, he was unsure of the treasury’s exact state, but it was certainly far from destitute. Unable to discern the emperor’s intent, Wang Xiujin felt uneasy.

After the ceremonies, Wang Xiujin left with his father, not returning directly to the Li household but to the Wang family residence, intending to seek his father’s counsel. He sensed a subtle threat hidden beneath the emperor’s words—was his rising prominence displeasing the sovereign? Or was the emperor scheming something else?

Lord Wang regarded his son’s earnest, questioning expression with silent bemusement. When there was reason to worry, the young man boldly spoke uncomfortable truths; when there was none, he conjured wild imaginings. What could the emperor possibly mean? Though the treasury was flush, no one ever complained about a lack of funds. The emperor’s own shops were profitable, though their income could hardly match the speed at which his son amassed wealth. After paying the royal dividends annually and occasionally donating to the treasury, Wang Xiujin’s earnings were more akin to managing the royal accounts. As long as the emperor remained clear-headed, there was no cause to trouble his son. “You’re overthinking,” Lord Wang said, dismissing him. He felt his son must be too idle lately, letting his thoughts run wild, and decided to find him something to do to keep him grounded.

Unaware of his father’s true intentions, Wang Xiujin returned home and confided in Li Linshan, who also thought Wang Xiujin was overanalyzing matters. The emperor’s remarks at the ceremony were likely mere jests without deeper meaning. Still, seeing Wang’s troubled face, Li Linshan offered some comforting words. Hearing similar reassurances from both, Wang Xiujin’s anxiety eased somewhat. Yet, he remained unsettled, though he resolved that if the emperor had designs, he would soon reveal them—and there was no use speculating further.

Settling his mind, Wang Xiujin plunged back into the mercantile world for the new year. Not long after the blessing, news arrived from the front lines that the army had pushed to the enemy’s border. The emperor’s joy was immense. In court, he promptly summoned two ministers who had participated in the previous territorial negotiations, instructing them in no uncertain terms: demand both money and land.

The emperor of Daliang, swayed by Wang Xiujin’s influence, abandoned any pretense of grand statecraft. What mattered was filling his coffers and expanding territory. As long as the enemy was sufficiently punished and deterred from further incursions, that was paramount. Moreover, the emperor deemed the land gained too meager. Following previous frustrations, he dispatched troops again and laid out maps for the officials about to depart, marking the exact areas that must be secured—and if possible, even more. The war reparations demanded included not only standard compensation but also a sum for fallen soldiers: fifty gold per common soldier, doubling with each rank increase. The civil officials preparing for the front exchanged knowing glances; the empire was hardly short of funds.

Though each recognized the other’s thoughts, neither dared voice opposition. They silently lamented how thoroughly the emperor had been tainted by the materialism of imperial merchants. Should they advise the Grand Chancellor to intervene, to curb the merchants’ influence? But given the emperor’s favor toward them, was that feasible? Both shared a bitter smile, doubting it was possible. Perhaps clandestine measures were necessary—poison the merchants or assassinate Wang Xiujin directly?

Unaware that his life was under threat, Wang Xiujin toured various workshops and shops in the capital with Manager Wang. Their chain of snack shops, now entrusted to Sister Liu, flourished. Passing by, they inspected and purchased some treats. Over the years, the variety of snacks had increased, and as long as hygiene was assured, these small chains thrived.

To ensure food safety, officials in the capital had assigned personnel dedicated to supervision. Though limited in scope—only addressing surface matters—the presence of inspectors served as a strong deterrent.

Listening to the shopkeepers discuss the oversight, Wang Xiujin remarked to Manager Wang how responsible the officials were toward the common people. Manager Wang chuckled, noting that officials would not dare trouble their family business; if they did, the owners wouldn’t speak so kindly.

Meanwhile, two ministers who had received secret orders from the emperor left the palace and hurried to the Grand Chancellor’s residence. In tones expressing grave concern for Daliang’s future, they laid out their thoughts. The Grand Chancellor stroked his beard silently, uttering no reply, merely escorting them out. Unbeknownst to the ministers, upon leaving, they were immediately placed under surveillance. Every word and action was reported directly to the emperor, who listened intently.

When the report reached the emperor, he inquired about the Grand Chancellor’s stance. The messenger replied only that the Chancellor had sent the ministers away. The emperor pondered briefly, then commanded, “Assign men to watch the Grand Chancellor.” Since his ideological shift, the emperor believed previous policies—driving off invaders only to pay them compensation—encouraged repeated attacks. The enemy thought, “Even if we lose, there’s money to be gained. Why not keep sending troops? We can support our people and strengthen our army.” Only a fool would accept payment and desist.

The emperor despised the ministers’ machinations, especially their plots to assassinate Wang Xiujin. He nearly ordered their immediate capture and disposal in the river. Yet, considering the Chancellor’s influence, he tempered his response: these officials must not die suddenly or suspiciously right after leaving the Chancellor’s home. Rather, “Keep a close watch on the Chancellor. People, when they grow old, should follow the natural order.”

The messenger understood and departed promptly.

That evening, Wang Xiujin returned home laden with food, adding another dish. Yachang delighted in gnawing on chicken frames and wings. The Li family’s only unmarried young lady teased that eating a chicken leg was more worthwhile, with more meat. Yachang hastily disagreed: “Aunt, you’re mistaken. Though wings have less meat, they’re packed with flavor. The leg has more meat, but the deeper you go, the blander it becomes. Wings are different—the flavor seeps through all around, no matter where you start eating.”

Li Linfu picked up a wing and tasted it, finding the nephew’s words accurate, though after a few bites, the meat was gone, leaving him unsatisfied. He continued with the leg but found its taste noticeably weaker. Attentive Yachang promptly offered her aunt another wing.

Watching their interaction, Wang Xiujin felt a warm satisfaction. His young aunt was nearing marriageable age, and thoughts turned to the family. He glanced toward his uncle’s household. “Uncle, my younger brothers are also of marrying age. Have any engagements been arranged?”

“Ha! The eldest has an engagement, but the fiancée must observe mourning for a year, so the wedding is delayed. None of the others are betrothed yet. Our eldest niece-in-law must help keep an eye out—not too highborn, nor too petty,” replied his uncle. Had Wang Xiujin not asked, the uncle would have brought it up himself. Though the Li family had a grand reputation in the capital, even counting the entire clan, they could not rival Wang Xiujin’s standing as the emperor’s favored confidant, controller of many royal workshops. As the future head of the Li family, Wang Xiujin would have no trouble securing good matches for the younger generation.

Wang Xiujin’s casual inquiry unexpectedly placed a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

“Uncle, let those of us idle in the inner chambers handle this! Xiujin is busy every day and can’t attend to these matters. But he can certainly gather some information,” Manager Mi quickly offered. “Later, we’ll discuss it properly in your room.”

“All right.” The second uncle was no difficult man and knew how busy Wang Xiujin was. “Be careful. Recently, some people have been acting out of line!” Though he had not lived in the capital for many years, his network of friends and allies remained intact. Upon receiving some intelligence, he naturally warned Wang Xiujin.

Thus, the new year unfolded with prosperity and intrigue intertwined.