Yan Heru forced himself to change his words on the spot and continued, “—a charming good-luck piece!”
“Preparing gifts is too courteous,” Shen Zechuan said at last, setting down his brush. “Bring a seat for Young Master Yan.”
Qiao Tianya released him. Fei Sheng nudged Yan Heru along, calling out, “Come, come—serve tea to Young Master Yan!”
Yan Heru felt the loss keenly. From Cuiqing, he had carefully selected a number of exceptionally attractive young men and women. He had originally planned to present them to Yao Wenyu first—once that route was opened, dealing with Shen Zechuan would be much easier. But he had not even managed to see Yao Wenyu. After entering the residence, he had thought to offer them to Shen Zechuan instead. What man did not love beauty? Xiao Chiye was not exactly a peerless beauty himself.
Yan Heru rubbed the back of his head, memorizing Qiao Tianya’s face, then gathered his robe and took a seat. His expression remained pleasant, though his smile faded into a hint of melancholy.
“The Prince of Libei was a hero of his age—his martial achievements are known to all,” Yan Heru said. “I feared the Prefect Lord and the Marquis might be overcome with grief and harm their health, which would go against the late Prince’s wishes. So I came today to make a fool of myself, just to bring a smile to the Prefect Lord. My condolences.”
Yan Heru spoke in official tones with a trace of Hezhou accent, unable to shake certain soft endings. When he spoke gently like this, he almost seemed sincere.
Shen Zechuan accepted the gesture. This year’s expenses were enormous, and everything depended on Yan Heru. During his speech, Shen Zechuan took the medicine and drank a few sips, his expression softening slightly.
“I heard, while in Libei, that you personally contributed tens of thousands of taels to repair the horse roads for the Border Camp.”
“That’s nothing,” Yan Heru said. “Not worth remembering. Besides, aren’t we all on the same side now? Libei and Qidong are both fighting the border tribes. As a mere merchant, I can’t do much—just a small token of support.”
Fei Sheng secretly scoffed. This fellow’s act was no worse than his own. Now he spoke of unity, yet earlier he had traded with the border tribes in Duzhou without the slightest guilt.
After finishing the medicine, Shen Zechuan paused before asking, “You came specially today. What is it you want?”
“Just to see the Prefect Lord,” Yan Heru said, smiling again. “You’re like an elder brother to me now—if I don’t see you for a day, I miss you terribly.” He straightened up. “Why not accept me as your younger brother? I’ll kowtow twice to you right now.”
Yan Heru was utterly shameless. He called Cai Yu “grandfather,” Lei Changming “big brother,” and even addressed Lei Jingzhe as “nephew.” Now that power had shifted to Shen Zechuan, he wanted to claim the role of younger brother. Lowering himself meant nothing—compared to silver, it was nothing at all. He saw this more clearly than anyone.
“Very well,” Shen Zechuan said, playing along as Yan Heru brightened. “First kowtow twice to Shen Wei, and we’ll be of the same clan.”
Yan Heru nearly spat. He was not a fool—aligning himself with Shen Wei would ruin his reputation on both sides. He withdrew, his enthusiasm fading.
“Forget it. My family has rules—we can’t pay respects to Shen Wei,” he said, then leaned forward again. “Prefect Lord, Prefect Lord.”
“Yes?” Shen Zechuan replied.
Yan Heru perked up. “I actually have something else to discuss. Now that Qidong has reached an agreement with Cizhou, the Marshal’s grain supply for this year is secure. I’ll cover it—all of it.”
Shen Zechuan rinsed his mouth with tea, not responding immediately.
As expected, Yan Heru continued, “Qu Du fears you now. You command strong forces on both sides—if war breaks out, the Eight Camps won’t stand a chance. But they can’t just bow their heads either. So I figure that starting this year, they’ll cut off our trade routes to Juexi. At the very least, the Xi family’s copper mines and fleets won’t remain in your hands.”
The fleet at Yongyi Port was crucial to Libei’s trade. Coarse tea was worthless in Juexi unless transported outward by ship for profit. Yan Heru did not care if the Xi family was shut down—it wasn’t his business. The Yan family could no longer profit from grain trade in Zhongbo, so he needed a replacement. He had set his sights on the ports.
“What’s your idea?” Shen Zechuan asked, setting down his teacup lid.
“My idea,” Yan Heru said, leaning onto the table, “is that we abandon Yongyi Port.”
Shen Zechuan tapped the lid lightly and looked at him, seeing ambition in his eyes. He did not reply at once, but calmly assessed Yan Heru’s intentions.
Yan Heru blinked and added, “We can… build a new one.”
The Yan family controlled the southern waterways of the Great Zhou, which allowed their goods to spread east and west. But once those goods reached Juexi, they relied on the Xi family’s fleet at Yongyi Port for trade. The greatest profit therefore did not lie with Yan Heru, but with Xi Hongxuan—now effectively in Shen Zechuan’s pocket. Yan Heru had long sought cooperation because he saw trade routes shrinking across the realm. This year’s crackdown on copper mines and Yongyi Port was, to him, an opportunity.
Years ago, when he could not access Libei, he established a small trade market in Duzhou and laundered money through pawnshops. Now he remained just as bold. Abandoning Yongyi Port would free the Yan family from Xi control. He intended to seize both internal and external trade routes and stand on equal footing with Shen Zechuan.
“How do you bypass Jiang Qingshan?” Shen Zechuan asked, running his fingers along the teacup lid.
“You hold leverage over Juexi,” Yan Heru said, revealing a sharp grin. “These past years, merchants laundering money in Duzhou have left records—many officials from Juexi are on that list. If those pawnshop ledgers fall into the wrong hands, they’ll be ruined. I’ve poured countless silver into opening Juexi’s routes. Now it’s time they repay me.”
Even if a prefect was upright, corruption below was inevitable. With so many officials and clerks, oversight could not reach everywhere. These gaps had allowed Yan Heru to build his business—and now those same people would pave his way.
Shen Zechuan began to reassess him.
Yan Heru had always acted shamelessly, enduring rejection with a smile. It was easy to forget he was the head of the Yan family, who had profited ruthlessly in Zhongbo years ago. He had abandoned Lei Jingzhe without hesitation—and had even been willing to hunt him down to please Shen Zechuan.
No matter how sweet his words, when it came to taking lives, he showed no mercy. He was truly driven by greed. If the person across from him could not offer profit, he would not even appear.
“Liuzhou along the coast is ideal,” Yan Heru said, tapping his golden abacus. “It’s remote, far from Yongyi Port, shaped like a crescent bay—perfect for hiding fleets. As long as we silence Prefect You Tan, we can continue trading. Use that list well, and we won’t have to pay Jiang Qingshan taxes anymore. Tariffs and inland taxes will be under your control. And when you eventually conquer Juexi’s thirteen cities, these corrupt officials will be my first gift to you—slaughter them all and let blood run red, and see who dares take bribes under your rule.”
Use everything to its fullest—then discard it.
Yan Heru was not yet twenty, yet he already understood ruthlessness. With an innocent face, he worked his abacus loudly, calculating not just silver, but lives.
Shen Zechuan had no reason to refuse. He needed a new port to bypass Jiang Qingshan—and even the copper mines he would rather relinquish. War expenses were rising, and once the remaining three prefectures were reclaimed, costs would double again.
“You think far ahead,” Shen Zechuan said. “In matters of trade, I am not your equal.”
After Yan Heru left, Qiao Tianya leaned on the chair and watched the curtain sway.
“This man should be killed,” he said.
“He is adaptable and knows exactly how to please,” Shen Zechuan replied, also watching the curtain. “Given time, he will become a threat.”
After leaving the residence, Yan Heru stepped onto the carriage with the help of others. As it began to move, he removed the golden abacus from his neck and tossed it onto the silk cushions, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Have you found Hai Rigu yet?” he asked.
Yan Miao lifted the curtain and entered, kneeling beside him. “The Shen residence is tightly guarded. Jinyiwei are everywhere—I couldn’t find him.”
Yan Heru frowned, sliding the abacus beads irritably. “What Jinyiwei? Just a bunch of beggars with badges, wagging their tails here in Cizhou! Today I made Shen Zechuan wary with the Liuzhou port proposal—he’s probably thinking of how to kill me right now.”
Yan Miao had been a pawnshop clerk in Duzhou, handling accounts. As a trusted servant of the Yan family, he had been placed there years ago, showing Yan Heru’s confidence in him.
“I don’t think Shen Zechuan is as vengeful as rumored,” Yan Miao said quietly. “The war is urgent. Both north and south rely on him. Young Master, don’t ruin your relationship with him.”
“He made me cover grain supplies for two prefectures,” Yan Heru said, sliding the beads. “That was a warning. You think he isn’t vengeful? I think the opposite.”
“Kong Chengfeng refused him three times, yet he remains respectful,” Yan Miao said. “We’ve supplied grain for two prefectures, for Qidong as well, and will fund the new port. Surely he sees your sincerity.”
Yan Heru suddenly knocked the abacus off his lap. After a pause, he said, “You don’t understand. He treats Kong Ling well because Kong still contributes to Cizhou. Even disputes between Zhou Gui’s aides were mediated by Kong Ling. Shen Zechuan knows how to use people. As for me—if he truly wanted a lasting partnership, would he let his subordinates bark at me again and again?”
Yan Heru was about to continue when Yan Miao straightened suddenly. “Young Master!”
Yan Heru fell silent, listening as hoofbeats sounded outside. Crawling to the curtain, he asked softly, “Who is it?”
“Libei cavalry,” Yan Miao replied.
A chill ran through Yan Heru. Gripping his abacus, he tried to peek out—but the carriage abruptly stopped.
The cavalry slowed beside them. Xiao Chiye sat astride his horse in the falling snow, flicking his whip lightly. Behind him, Chen Yang and the others halted as well.
Yan Heru slapped his cheeks, pulled open the curtain, and called out, “Second Master! I was just thinking of you!”
Xiao Chiye glanced at Yan Miao kneeling inside, then looked at Yan Heru. “You’ve seen the Prefect Lord?”
Yan Heru swallowed. Rumor had it Xiao Chiye had ridden through the snow all night to reclaim the Prince of Libei, killing over a dozen men along the way. Whether true or not, the man’s presence was overwhelming.
“I have,” Yan Heru said, wiping sweat from his brow despite the cold. “I brought some jewels for you, Second Master. If you like them, let me know—there’s plenty more in Hezhou.”
Xiao Chiye had just come from the Border Camp and had no interest in idle talk. He nodded briefly and rode off. The Libei cavalry swept past like the wind. Yan Heru shivered uncontrollably.
“This Second Master,” Yan Miao said thoughtfully, “has been searching for Master Yideng.”
“Is that so?” Yan Heru watched the swirling snow left behind by the cavalry, his gaze sharpening. Then he smiled faintly.
“…If Shen Zechuan stays ill, I’ll feel much more at ease than if he recovers.”