Xie Yan listened, fists clenched tightly.
This time he had considered whether he should pay a visit to the Chen family.
The debt of gratitude for raising Lu Yang was still there—they couldn’t be completely heartless. But after hearing these words, his resolve only hardened.
Old Master Lu said to him, “If you want to visit the Chen family, it’s no big deal. Brother Yang didn’t starve, nor was he sold somewhere shameful. Now that you’re a juren, their family won’t dare act arrogantly—they fear the strong and oppress the weak. A few small gifts and a cup of tea will suffice.”
The Chen family had a skill—they ran a tofu shop, and the whole household wouldn’t starve.
Xie Yan wouldn’t have to give much; it was just a matter of keeping appearances.
He pressed his lips together, unwilling to go.
Old Master Lu offered just one piece of advice, saying no more.
When the room was tidied, Xie Yan asked, “What if I don’t go?”
Old Master Lu said, “Nothing will happen.”
Going or not, it was entirely up to him. It was a matter of face.
Shrewd people never make enemies, even distant, weak ones.
Xie Yan returned to his room, held his thorny blessing charm, and lay awake for half the night, ultimately deciding not to go.
When he was a scholar, he had no household of his own; everything depended on Lu Yang. Lu Yang, constrained by gratitude, hadn’t dared confront Old Master Chen.
Now that he was a juren, he would not endure this grievance, nor let Lu Yang bear such trivial irritation.
As for the Chen family, Lu Yang had already handled it.
Xie Yan felt content. Greed only leads to more desire—what good would it do to give them money or a shop?
Living steadily now, with enough to eat and wear, a roof over their heads, and a home. Both sons married, the family growing. His aspirations were modest, and this sufficed.
With that thought, Xie Yan closed his eyes and slept.
Forget the Chen and Li families for now—tomorrow, they would go to the Zhang family.
Hai Youtian brought news and terms from a beekeeper, hitting right at Li Feng’s interests.
He immediately said he was too busy to go and exchanged knowing glances with Lu Liu. Lu Liu understood, set aside her needlework, and went to the small eatery to find Shun Ge’er, commissioning him to handle an important task.
“Do you know about the honey? Hai Yazi found someone who, if trained, will teach the art of beekeeping and honey-making. Your eldest brother thinks it’s worthwhile, but he’s too busy, so I suggested you go. If you handle it properly, Mother will praise you!” Lu Liu told Shun Ge’er.
Shun Ge’er didn’t hesitate. With many people at home and busy at the eatery, he agreed to go.
Since the news came from Hai Youtian, he brought Shun Ge’er along to investigate.
The beekeeper, surnamed Ma and nearly fifty, was called Old Ma by everyone.
He used to be a gambler, losing his home. Now older, he’d settled down and supported himself by beekeeping.
Hai Youtian had investigated further. Old Ma hadn’t gambled in the past year or two, had three beehives, and honey-making skills that were reliable. He sold honey on the street, and neighbors spoke well of him.
Shun Ge’er frowned upon hearing about gambling; he didn’t approve.
As they discussed Old Ma, they headed east in the city.
Li Feng and Lu Liu followed at a careful distance.
For a skilled hunter, tracking is essential. Li Feng had tried various diversions in the city and now followed unnoticed.
It was Lu Liu’s first time tailing someone; she was nervous and excited, stepping carefully to match Li Feng’s pace.
The bustling streets didn’t relax her; she was tense even in breathing.
Seeing her sweat, Li Feng wiped her forehead. “Fun, huh? If I’d known you liked it, I’d have taken you out more often.”
Lu Liu smiled. “Next time, who will we follow?”
Li Feng said, “Anyone on the street will do.”
She was satisfied.
Quietly following, the people ahead remained unaware.
Shun Ge’er hadn’t gone out much lately; after the eatery opened, he became addicted to being there, enjoying interactions, hearing fresh news, learning new things. Today, seeing the street bustling, his eyes couldn’t take it all in. Hai Youtian spoke constantly, covering everything.
Out of habit, he discussed shop rents, stall prices, and vendors’ goods. He recognized some, knew which workshops produced them; others, he honestly admitted he didn’t know.
Many small vendors didn’t have workshops; all work was done at home.
He knew which street snacks were good, which restaurants served the best food.
The apprentices also needed to eat and drink, occasionally gathering socially.
Shun Ge’er loved hearing about this. He even aspired to manage a grand restaurant one day.
Hai Youtian’s eyes brightened. “Rent a shop or buy one?”
Shun Ge’er said, “Definitely rent first. Save up money, then buy later.”
Hai Youtian considered restaurant prices, realizing it was a distant goal, and became less excited.
He explained the frequent turnover of shops in the city: “Restaurants and taverns change often. Don’t assume a stable sign or familiar layout means the same owner remains. Many have changed hands behind the scenes.”
The city’s prosperity came from the constant flow of merchants. New merchants arrive every year; old ones come and go. Renowned restaurants had signature dishes or unique features—biggest, most luxurious, best view, etc. Beyond features, skills to retain customers were essential.
Hai Youtian added, “Many restaurants run inns; if no separate rooms exist, they put a large shared bed in the backyard. This way, dining business is supported. Grand restaurants differ—they cater purely to diners, with higher standards.”
Shun Ge’er recalled when they first rented a house; Hai Youtian knew the number and distribution of private academies thoroughly. Over years of interaction, Hai Youtian truly knew every trade.
Yang Ge said that learning skills at home, no matter how much, was hollow—only with outside experience could one apply them.
Apparently, the apprentice system trained people. Immersed in the city, one could learn its many facets.
Shun Ge’er relayed this to Hai Youtian, who laughed: “No, even apprentices have divisions of labor. Some handle shop rentals, some housing, others farmland, livestock, or servants. I grew up following the manager. To manage, one must understand the entire trade. I didn’t know what to focus on, so I tried everything. Later, I understood, but didn’t stop. Learning everything, the more I know, the more indispensable I become. That’s why I wasn’t sold off.”
Shun Ge’er said, “I know. My eldest brother was the same when he went to the mountain.”
To survive and earn money, more effort was needed.
Hai Youtian smiled, acknowledging Shun Ge’er’s value calmly, without boasting: “Some wealthy families buying servants seek clever, attentive, and quick-witted ones. Especially for young masters’ attendants, literacy and wit are essential. Someone like me could sell for twenty taels of silver.”
Shun Ge’er pointed at himself. “And me? How much silver am I worth?”
Hai Yazi opened his mouth but couldn’t answer. How could he price him?
A young apprentice could be sent to many places: to wealthy households as a servant, elsewhere as a concubine, or even to secretive businesses or towers.
