Chapter 265

The family of three first visited the ready-to-wear shop. The Wang family’s clothing store had already become a trendsetter in the capital; every time a new garment appeared, it would immediately be snapped up, and within days, the other shops would follow suit with similar styles. Yet the Wang family’s business remained unaffected. Encouraged by Wang Xiujin, the tailors in the shop were bold in their designs so long as they did not overstep the bounds of propriety. Whoever’s creations sold best would receive a ten percent share of the profits, and so every tailor was highly motivated. Each of them had a family to support—who would not wish for more silver to bring home?

As the family entered the shop, the manager came forward at once. “Master.”

“We’re here today to have a few outfits made,” Wang Xiujin stated, heading toward the room set aside for the tailors. The manager dared not leave them unattended and bustled ahead to lead the family to the tailor’s room. Rather than barging in, he knocked softly and, after receiving a response, entered with them. When the tailors saw the master, they immediately set aside their work. Wang Xiujin gestured for them to continue what they were doing and approached the tailor who always made his clothes, explaining the designs he wanted. The tailor listened, then swiftly took out a measuring cord to take the family’s measurements.

Li Linshan overheard Wang Xiujin’s discussion with the tailor. He saw nothing peculiar in the family wearing matching clothes and naturally did not object. Besides, it had been a while since he’d accompanied Wang Xiujin and Yachang like this—he had no intention of dampening their spirits and let the tailor proceed. Yachang, of course, had even less say in the matter and was left at the tailor’s mercy.

While the tailor measured Yachang, Wang Xiujin instructed, “Leave some room in the measurements. Children grow fast—this month’s clothes may be too short by next month.”

“And make several sets for Yachang, each in a different size,” Wang Xiujin added. The tailor understood immediately.

Once their business at the tailor’s was concluded, the family set off on a proper stroll through the streets. Yachang was led by the hand, one parent on each side, his large eyes flitting eagerly from one scene to the next, unable to take it all in. The streets were not crowded at this hour. Those who recognized Wang Xiujin paused to greet him, and he responded warmly, approachable as ever.

They had not walked far when Yachang stopped in front of a small stall, transfixed by the sugar figurines on display. Wang Xiujin realized his son had likely never seen such sweets and decided to buy one for him. Before becoming a father, he had often heard the saying that sons should be raised strictly, daughters indulgently. Wang Xiujin did not subscribe to this belief. Whether a child turned out exceptional depended not on wealth or austerity, but on upbringing. He placed the candy figure in his son’s hand, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately.

Yachang beamed with delight, raising the candy to offer it first to his little father. Wang Xiujin was momentarily startled by the gesture, then played along and gave it a pretend lick. Yachang then presented the figurine to Li Linshan. Li Linshan meant to decline, but catching Wang Xiujin’s gaze—though he could not quite read his expression—he understood he was not to refuse, and so he, too, took a small taste. Only after both parents had sampled it did Yachang begin to eat the candy himself, licking it a few times before again offering it to his parents. Thus, the three of them wandered the marketplace, sharing the candy, harmonious and content.

From the moment the candy was bought, Wang Xiujin’s buying spree began. Anything that caught Yachang’s sustained interest would prompt him to consider carefully whether to buy it: had his son seen it before, would it be useful, had he tasted it, could it be eaten? Only then would he decide to spend the money.

With one arm cradling his son and the other laden with parcels, Li Linshan found himself carrying mostly food, as Wang Xiujin’s purchases were largely edible treats. In the market was a large shop selling famous snacks from all over the country, always bustling with customers, and most of the food in Li Linshan’s hands came from there. Wang Xiujin, too, had his hands full; besides food, he bought various other items and stopped by the carpenter’s shop to collect some orders he had placed earlier.

When the carpenter heard from his apprentice that the “Royal Merchant Wang” had arrived, he immediately set aside his work and hurried out. He wanted to ask when the long-rumored recruitment for the new workshop would begin. Though his own shop turned a profit each year, it was nothing compared to the wages offered by the new workshops. In the past, he would never have considered giving up his own business to work for someone else. But things had changed; the wages at the workshops were nearly equivalent to his annual profits, and while running his own shop brought both mental and physical strain—not to mention troublesome customers—working at the workshop required only that he do his job well to receive his pay. Naturally, he was now inclined to close his shop and join the new enterprise.

After hearing the carpenter’s question, Wang Xiujin smiled. The workshop was still under construction, and recruitment could not begin before the end of the year at the earliest. “You can go to the office in the preparatory compound and put your name down. When formal assessments begin, someone will notify you.”

“It’s done, it’s done,” the carpenter replied in haste, “I’m just anxious, that’s all.”

“I understand your impatience—I feel it myself. But the workshop isn’t finished yet; even if I hired everyone now, there’d be no work for them. If I did that, I wouldn’t be kindhearted—I’d be a fool,” Wang Xiujin said, perfectly understanding the man’s feelings. No matter how wealthy he was, he could not afford to pay a large workforce for doing nothing just because some were eager to start.

The carpenter, embarrassed by the gentle rebuke, scratched his head and stopped asking when the workshop would be completed. He instructed his apprentice to carefully pack up Wang Xiujin’s items and handed them over with great deference. As the family departed the carpentry shop, Wang Xiujin glanced back over his shoulder. “Tell me, if I hired all the carpenters, wouldn’t their shops close down? Where would people go for carpentry work then? And if carpenters became scarce, wouldn’t their prices soar?”

“You’re overthinking it. Not every carpenter thinks working for others is easier than running their own business,” Li Linshan replied. He knew Wang Xiujin’s wages were generous, but the rules of the workshop were strict—there would be no room for idlers trying to coast by. Such people wouldn’t last long and would end up back where they started, taking on jobs to make a living. There’d be no shortage of independent carpenters, so prices wouldn’t skyrocket.

Wang Xiujin considered this and conceded the point. “Let’s stop by the workshop later. It’s been a while since I last visited. Yachang should see that our wealth wasn’t conjured out of thin air, but earned through hard work, piece by piece. And next time you have a drill, I want to bring the students from the academy to watch. They need to understand that their comfortable studies are not due to any great power or family wealth, but to the soldiers who guard the borders, risking their lives so these young gentlemen can enjoy their carefree days.” Wang Xiujin recalled the recent murmurs at the academy dismissing martial training as useless, which incensed him. He wished he could throw such people onto the front lines for a few years to see if they’d still disdain martial practice on their return.

Both Li Linshan and Yachang gazed at Wang Xiujin, their eyes full of confusion. Wang Xiujin rolled his eyes at their blank looks. “Enough. Let’s go to the workshop.” His earlier good mood had vanished, and he strode off toward the carriage, parcels in hand. Li Linshan, carrying their son, hurried after him, guessing that someone at the academy must have said something to upset him again. As a military man, he had long grown accustomed to the dominance of the civil officials; at first, it made him angry, but now he felt little about it. Things were much better than before, at least—the emperor no longer discarded people when he was done with them.

Inside the still-unfinished workshop, the construction workers were busy as ants. Wang Xiujin made a circuit, found the foreman, and inquired about progress. He was assured that completion before year’s end was guaranteed. Meanwhile, Li Linshan, with Yachang in his arms, only looked from the perimeter—the dust inside was thick, and though he believed children should face some hardship, he could not bear to let his son choke on dust.

When Wang Xiujin returned, he saw Yachang nestled in Li Linshan’s arms, his brows furrowed in discomfort, bravely enduring though obviously unwell. The word “allergy” flashed through Wang Xiujin’s mind, and he remembered how his son had suffered from cold as a baby—could there be lingering effects on his lungs? Anxiety surged in his heart. He quickly had Li Linshan carry their son to the carriage, not toward home but straight to the clinic.

Yachang, nestled in his father’s arms, seemed highly reluctant to visit the doctor. Wang Xiujin simply assumed all children feared physicians and gave it no further thought, instead sharing his worries with Li Linshan, who patted their son’s back, chiding himself for his carelessness. Wang Xiujin, too, was filled with regret but also grateful that the issue had been discovered early, so treatment could begin at once.

The physician at the clinic, upon learning the patient was the general’s young son, was extremely conscientious—checking the pulse three or four times, inspecting the throat, then pondering deeply before prescribing a remedy. “The young master likely suffered cold damage in infancy. Though he has been well cared for, it left a lingering weakness. Normally it does not show, but exposure to dust brought it to light. I have written a tonic prescription—take three doses each during the hottest and coldest days of the year, and after three years, the root of the problem should be gone. If you are still concerned, you may seek a second opinion.”

Wang Xiujin thanked the doctor profusely, took the prescription, and fetched the medicine himself. Of course, he kept a copy and planned to ask the fourth prince to consult the imperial physician as well. For a child’s health, one could never be too careful.