Today they didn’t cut fresh meat, so they just sliced a piece of the family’s preserved pork to eat.
They also bought bitter melon. Lu Liu didn’t like it much—same reason as with eggplant—he wasn’t skilled at preparing it.
Lu Yang taught him: usually, you blanch it first. If conditions allow, sprinkle some salt to draw out the bitterness, then blanch it again—after two rounds, most of the bitter flavor is gone. If someone still doesn’t like it, it’s just a matter of taste.
The bitter melon was stir-fried with eggs, lightly seasoned—plain and simple.
They also made stir-fried green beans with pork. The beans they bought today were a bit old, so they simmered them a while longer.
Next was the eggplant. Previously, they had made braised eggplant, but today Lu Yang changed it to minced pork with eggplant. The method wasn’t difficult.
Lu Liu wanted to learn, and Lu Yang said he could do it himself.
They also steamed some eggs and two sweet potatoes. Lunch was over a fire-cooked rice, with leftover rice crusts to make porridge later.
During the simmering of the vegetables, Lu Liu took the opportunity to steam rice porridge for the little ones.
After they could eat the porridge, they wanted a bit at every meal. When the adults were eating, the babies were especially greedy. A scoop of porridge on a plate, swirled around, then fed to them—it would completely delight them.
Today was no different. As soon as the meal was on the table, before the adults sat, the babies reached out, cooing. Lu Liu and Chen Guizhi each held one, coaxing them so their little hands and feet waved with delight. Already enchanted.
Watching them, Lu Yang sighed countless times: “So easy to fool. Give me a hug, let me fool you a bit.”
Lu Liu wanted to hand the child to him for a hug.
The two babies still couldn’t tell who their real father was; they recognized vaguely, and would happily go to anyone holding them.
Lu Yang felt his heart soften.
It wasn’t just about earning money—he could also enjoy having children to play with.
Once the top scholar returned home, he had proper matters to attend.
Because he called making children a “proper matter,” Lu Yang couldn’t help but laugh, a scoop of porridge wobbling and taking ages to reach the baby’s mouth, making the child reach to grab his arm and eat on their own.
The whole table laughed.
Lu Yang resisted the temptation and didn’t go to the market. Li Feng faithfully reported this to Hong Chu, then continued on as a bodyguard.
The market was crowded with merchants, so packed that the streets were almost impassable. Even before reaching the main street, the noise was overwhelming, calls of merchants never ceasing.
On the first day, Hong Chu came to make polite small talk, then stayed at Yintong Silver Bank until afternoon.
The bank clerks were so busy they were invisible—voices called out, and assistants immediately came to exchange silver.
Li Feng listened for a while before realizing this “exchange” wasn’t converting paper bills into silver but borrowing silver.
For example, Boss A might keep thousands of taels in Yintong Bank each year. Coming to the market in the city, if he didn’t have enough cash, he would borrow from the bank. After selling goods, he would deposit the silver back, settling debts and deposits together.
Some merchants also brought bills from other banks to exchange.
Local businesses wouldn’t accept notes from outside banks, so merchants came to Yintong to exchange. Sometimes the bank would convert them into cash from another city, or two banks would have mutual arrangements.
Li Feng overheard the clerk say, “The quota for this year is used up.”
Li Feng had a few paper bills, the largest worth 100 taels. He rarely dealt with banks and had never encountered these things before.
Hong Laowu told him: “If your company earns money, don’t keep it idle. Deposit it in the bank. When you do business in the future and need silver, you can borrow. This trust comes from your reputation in previous years.”
Li Feng noted this and told him: “Hong Wuge, we’ll talk another day. It’s too noisy here—I need to listen carefully.”
Hong Laowu didn’t mind, patting him on the shoulder cheerfully.
Hong Chu didn’t go out, but circumstances forced him to.
In several alleys, people climbed around; ten or so petty thieves were caught outside, all bloody-handed. The spikes had done their work.
Nearby stalls had troublemakers, some even causing ruckus inside the bank. Any small issue turned into shouting matches, making business impossible, demanding the overseer intervene.
Hong Laowu went out to handle some people, with six assistants going along.
Inside, only Hong Chu, Li Feng, and Lai Zhen stayed. Lai Zhen was another bodyguard, brought by Hong Laowu, who had been at the dock for over half a year, dubbed “useless” by Hong Laowu. He could even live in the Hong household.
Lai Zhen didn’t bother Li Feng; the two bodyguards both kept silent.
Assistants took turns going out—some handling rowdy people, some attending merchants’ requests, others going to the accounts office to fetch the red lists.
Following Lu Yang’s suggestion, Hong Chu posted the red lists for the market. Assistants also beat gongs and called out, announcing which merchants were the wealthiest.
The red list showed top three, fifth, tenth, fifteenth, and twentieth merchants—seven prizes in total. The most valuable fabrics remained the same; the others only listed value, not goods.
Even so, it greatly stimulated buyers. From the first day, rankings changed rapidly. By the second day, names on the list could swap entirely, astonishing Li Feng.
He had thought by the second day rankings would stabilize and money be spent—but the second day was the main event.
On day two, Hong Chu left Yintong Bank, sitting at a temporary “Accounts Pavilion” at the street entrance.
Five account clerks verified the books. Orders were read aloud by junior clerks, three clerks recorded them, two verified, a scribe copied the red list, and attendants hurried to post it. Another assistant followed, beating a gong to announce names and congratulate them.
After days of hearing about silver, Li Feng was numb. Thousands of taels here made no audible sound. Merchants in the top ranks spent at least five thousand taels; the top three started at tens of thousands.
Li Feng couldn’t imagine how so much merchandise existed in this small city.
He had no time to ponder. Hong Chu’s presence was now a test for the bodyguards.
Hong Chu displayed no sense of danger, sitting lazily in a chair, pouring tea for himself, fanning, occasionally chatting with Hong Laowu.
Pawnshops were bustling. Besides borrowing silver, some brought items to pawn for cash.
Hong Laowu whispered the items to Hong Chu: portable goods, some seals, inkstones, and other elegant pieces. Most merchants were men; pawned items were mainly hats, rings, jade pendants, fans.
Hong Laowu asked, “Young master, any items catch your eye? I’ll show them to you.”
Hong Chu shook his head. “Why would I want these? Tell the pawnshop assistants not to slack. Draft a list of all pledges these days. If owners get rewards, I’ll settle accounts and return as-is.”
Hong Laowu obeyed, sending an assistant to pass the message.
Lai Zhen chatted with Hong Laowu, asking for tea. After drinking, he excused himself to the privy.
Hong Laowu waved impatiently: “Go, go! Hurry back!”
He looked at Li Feng. “Boss Li, want some tea? It’s hot—don’t get heatstroke.”
Li Feng didn’t like drinking water. He was used to enduring thirst in the mountains. Since coming to the city, Lu Liu couldn’t control him—old habits die hard. Now as a bodyguard, it was the same.
With a water pouch on his waist, he only drank at night after work, not during the day.
Hong Laowu wanted to say more, but Li Feng pulled him aside, kicked an assistant out in one swift move. Quick as he was, he intercepted another assistant, disarmed his short blade.
Hong Laowu watched, immediately ordering the assistant seized.
As Li Feng predicted, Hong Chu’s long-term positions weren’t safe. Walking the streets, people tried to stab him, causing panic. By the third day, Hong Chu stopped appearing publicly, staying in teahouses to handle minor affairs and intervene when the market couldn’t resolve issues.
