The gift consisted of a few notebooks—debate records carefully compiled by Xie Yan. They didn’t bring food or drink; summer fare wouldn’t keep, and Wu Pingzhi certainly wasn’t lacking in provisions.
By evening, the streets were lively. Many vendors who usually hid in alleyways to cool off came out, calling for customers, making the most of the fading sunlight to earn a little money.
Lu Yang walked along the street, describing to Xie Yan the bustling scene on Minfu Road.
Xie Yan wore a blue robe, and Lu Yang tugged at his sleeve, gesturing excitedly, pointing out the colorful fabrics overhead, and mentioning the nearby small markets that were already open. He added how the money shops were busy, with owners and clerks lining up to exchange silver notes—a truly lively scene.
Seeing Lu Yang’s excitement, Xie Yan realized he had been captivated by the grand market, and said he would accompany him.
“I’ll have a few days off soon, just in time for the last day. I’ll go with you.”
Lu Yang hesitated. “Whether we go this time doesn’t matter; our stock isn’t enough. Luckily, there are four markets a year. The next one is in September—missing this isn’t a big deal. I’ll explain everything at home later.”
Hearing Lu Yang speak of “missing it,” Xie Yan didn’t feel much regret and smiled.
They arrived in time for dinner and ate at the Wu household.
Wu Pingzhi was delighted to see them, leading them inside. “I was planning to visit your house in a couple of days, but since Xie Yan is off duty, you can stay and discuss your essays properly.”
With guests present, he set the table in the dining hall and, as before, had a servant bring over a basin of ice.
Lu Yang had not paid much attention on his previous visit, but now, alongside Xie Yan, he noticed the fine mosquito nets hanging throughout the house. Even while eating in the hall, no mosquitoes dared to bite—so good.
He handed the notebooks to Wu Pingzhi and exchanged a few casual words during the meal.
Afterward, the three moved to the study to discuss business.
Wu Pingzhi’s study had been tidied; miscellaneous items were removed, leaving only writing implements and books.
Xie Yan glanced around. “So simple. Feels like home.”
Lu Yang: “……”
Wu Pingzhi laughed. “Your husband put thought into arranging the study, and you just call it simple?”
Xie Yan clarified he meant “simple” in contrast to “fussy and flashy.”
He led Lu Yang to a seat and told Wu Pingzhi, “My husband has some business with you. It will take a while.”
Wu Pingzhi looked at Lu Yang. “Business?”
Lu Yang nodded, still excited, and briefly described the grand market: “Does your firm ever take stalls there? How much goods are usually sold? Do you know about the Hong family? I heard their young master handles the business himself.”
Wu Pingzhi’s expression shifted repeatedly, mostly surprised. That Li Feng had gone to guard Hong Chu, that they could sell for half a day at the market—it astonished him completely.
“Our firm doesn’t attend the grand market. You’ve just started your firm, so you might not know other firms. Let me explain.”
No firm ever relied on a single business. Wealthy families diversified: estates, workshops, and shops.
Firms had primary and secondary businesses. The primary focused on their core, while the secondary often involved partial shares.
For example, in a small county like Sanshui, one cloth firm could dominate while others barely survived. In the capital, Wu’s workshops weren’t small, but there were several major cloth merchants. They avoided competition and didn’t expand aggressively.
Cloth trading required raw materials like cotton, silk, hemp; then weaving and dyeing workshops; finally, storefront sales. Small firms couldn’t sustain such a large enterprise.
In the capital, the leading cloth firms were the Ling family, followed by the Bai family. Beyond cloth, major firms also owned tea fields, ran tea-roasting workshops, and sold tea. They might invest in other profitable workshops or acquire prime storefronts for resale. Annual revenue depended heavily on the manager’s skill.
The firm’s reputation enabled them to handle external orders.
Wu Pingzhi explained, “My father had an old friend who constantly needed cloth, grain, tea, herbs, leather, and other goods. He outsourced it to us; we used escort services to deliver. If issues arose, we informed them. Such contracts yielded modest profits but were reliable. Every product sold—nothing piled up in the warehouse.”
He sipped tea before continuing: “Our firm has been low-profile these past years. Previously, we handled most goods ourselves; now, most purchases are external.”
Big firms are like fat sheep; his father and he endured hardships to maintain even a modest business.
Apart from cloth, other ventures were minor shares or anonymously run shops. That’s why accounts had to be checked in the capital; only the cloth shop required less frequent auditing.
Wu Pingzhi added, “The Hong family is fortunate—they made their wealth via the docks and handle many contracts. With the docks as cover, they remain inconspicuous. Compared to the city, their reputation isn’t as prominent as the Ling or Bai families. To earn big, workshops must control production themselves. Hong family understands this—they appear flashy but are cautious. Goods are shipped batch by batch; who knows which batch is theirs?”
As for the Hong family’s young master running the business, Wu Pingzhi had heard of him:
“During previous social gatherings, I heard merchants say the Hong young master travels extensively; now he runs the business.”
Lu Yang absorbed a lot of information, even considering taking notes.
Xie Yan, understanding, jotted things down quickly so they could review later.
Lu Yang read a few papers aloud: “He’s now the second in command of the Hong family.”
Wu Pingzhi said, “Oh. The grand market can make money and build reputation. Our firm, being a cloth merchant, once competed with Ling and Bai. Cloth sells profitably, but the Hong firm isn’t as famous in fabrics. Still, they handle enough of their own contracts to take stalls at the grand market. We don’t bother with the excitement.”
He had a sharp business sense. When he invested in Lu Yang’s book printing, he insisted on exactly 800 copies—no more, no less—and didn’t end up with surplus.
He estimated potential earnings at the market: minimum 1,500 taels of silver, possibly over 10,000. After considering Lu Yang’s stock and plans for medicinal herbs, Wu Pingzhi offered a suggestion:
“Capital restaurants and dry goods shops in the capital must have stockpiled matsutake mushrooms. With deliveries from the village quick, you can draw on that stock first. Don’t fear small profits or losses; with sufficient goods, focus on spreading your reputation. I estimate these shops’ combined stock is about five thousand jin. Purchase at market price and deliver immediately.
“Then consider merchant orders. In June, more mushrooms grow. Factor in seasonal impact, set delivery dates, and plan sales. You don’t always need goods on hand; quality items can sell even if delivered later. If you secure deferred orders, you might earn three to five thousand taels. Combined with medicinal herbs, about ten thousand taels total.”
Xie Yan, hearing they could take a stall even without stock, nudged Wu Pingzhi under the table.
Wu Pingzhi, puzzled: “Why are you kicking me?”
Lu Yang chuckled: “Someone might try to assassinate Hong Chu; he’s worried I could get caught in it.”
Wu Pingzhi: “……”
He sipped his tea and thought briefly. “Maybe it’s better not to go.”
Lu Yang’s smile was uncontrollable: “Fortune favors the bold! You focus on your studies; I’m going to make money!”
Ten thousand taels—hahaha!
Lu Yang threw back his head, laughing uproariously, imagining rolling on the floor.
Wu Pingzhi: “……”
