Chapter Seventy-Two: Boyang Pavilion

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Night had fallen.

While all those who had toiled through the day at the inn were long since asleep, the lamp in Qin Zhen’s room still burned brightly.

“Zhen, I’ve looked into what you asked me to check, and you were absolutely right! Tomorrow is the birthday of the City Lord’s daughter, and they’ve reserved the entire Boyang Tower for the occasion. That fat oaf never intended to give us a proper welcome; he just wanted to make a spectacle of us!”

For the City Lord’s daughter’s birthday, every prominent figure in the city would attend, and of course, they would all bring gifts.

If Qin Zhen showed up uninvited and empty-handed, it would naturally incur the City Lord’s displeasure!

And then, with Huang Dalang fanning the flames and embellishing matters, how could Qin Zhen hope to establish himself in this coastal city?

He’d be lucky to leave alive!

Chen Shu ground his teeth in frustration.

“That fat scoundrel spills blood without a blade!”

“This city is full of schemes. We’re out of our depth here. Maybe we should just leave?” Zhao Ming said anxiously. “If all else fails, we could go back to selling fish.”

“Selling fish barely earns us a ten percent profit—what’s the point?”

In order to connect with Zhang Miao, Qin Zhen had already ceded nearly ninety percent of his profits, which meant that the returns from selling fish in this county were meager at best.

For now, Qin Zhen lacked the means to develop trade routes to other regions. If he wanted to quickly build his initial capital, he’d have to find another way.

“Besides, we already agreed in public to attend the banquet at Huang Dalang’s invitation. If we don’t go, aren’t we playing right into that fat man’s hands?” Qin Zhen said in a low voice. “He’d just use it as an excuse to slander us, especially in front of the City Lord!”

“But with such short notice, where are we supposed to find a suitable gift?” Li Han muttered, clearly troubled.

Choosing the right gift was an art in itself.

If the gift was ill-chosen or didn’t please the recipient, it could be a pitfall.

Who knew if Huang Dalang wasn’t just waiting for an opportunity to make trouble?

“I have an idea,” Qin Zhen said, his tone calm.

No matter the circumstance, Qin Zhen always exuded a quiet confidence, which steadied the hearts of those around him.

They exchanged uncertain glances, left with nothing but hope that Qin Zhen would find a way by morning.

Daylight.

Boyang Tower was overflowing with guests.

Huang Dalang stood at the entrance to greet them, a host of local family heads arrayed behind him.

All were craning their necks in anticipation, awaiting the arrival of the City Lord.

“Everyone knows Boyang Tower is the most extravagant place in town, and to reserve the whole building for the City Lord’s daughter’s birthday—Young Master Huang has certainly spared no expense!”

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“For the sake of the people, the City Lord has worked tirelessly, never sparing himself. This is merely my humble duty as a loyal subject,” Huang Dalang replied with an air of indifference. “It’s just a small expense—nothing compared to what the City Lord has done for us all.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, several luxurious carriages rolled up to the entrance.

The City Lord of the coastal city stepped out, his square face radiating an air of uprightness and integrity, the kind that inspired immediate respect.

Behind him followed a richly-dressed girl of sixteen or seventeen, her every movement marked by arrogance and extravagance.

“Your humble servant greets the City Lord and the young lady!” Huang Dalang was the first to bow in welcome, and the other family heads quickly followed suit.

Every notable figure in the county had come in person to offer their felicitations, which visibly pleased the City Lord.

He patted Huang Dalang’s shoulder with satisfaction. “You’ve worked hard.”

The City Lord’s daughter, however, held her head high and looked indifferent, as though all of this was only her due.

Huang Dalang, honored by the attention, quickly knelt. “It is my privilege to serve! My lord, everyone is waiting for you inside—please, after you!”

With the City Lord at the center of attention, the company proceeded proudly into Boyang Tower.

Not long after Huang Dalang and his party entered, Qin Zhen and his companions also arrived as promised.

Gazing up at the Boyang Tower, which soared seven or eight stories high, Qin Zhen couldn’t help but marvel.

A grand city indeed—what a magnificent restaurant!

“Improperly dressed guests are not allowed inside!”

Before Qin Zhen could even enter, a few haughty servants blocked their way.

To be fair, every guest was dressed in splendid finery, adorned with gold and silver.

Though Qin Zhen’s own clothes were neat and clean, in the company of such nobility, he looked distinctly shabby.

In the eyes of these snobbish servants, he was only a step above a beggar.

Qin Zhen suspected this was another of Huang Dalang’s schemes: to bar him at the door and make him lose face.

Suppressing his anger, he asked with a blank expression, “And what would you consider appropriate attire?”

“At the very least, you must wear boots,” one servant sneered, pointing conspicuously at the mud-stained cloth shoes on Qin Zhen’s feet.

“A country bumpkin like you thinks you belong at a banquet?”

“You dare look down on country folk?” Qin Zhen seized the man by his collar, the strength in his young body startling, lifting the servant—who was half a head taller—clear off the ground. “Without us farmers and fishermen, what would you eat? Without our spinning and lumber, what would you wear? Where would you live?”

Li Han growled, “You’re nothing but a servant without even a household registry, and you dare block our way? How many mothers do you have to lose before you learn your place?”

The servants were clearly cowed by the murderous intent in Qin Zhen’s eyes.

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Especially when they spotted the foreign sword at Qin Zhen’s waist—their attitudes changed instantly, and all arrogance vanished.

In those times, anyone daring to carry a blade openly was either an official or a hardened outlaw.

Certainly not someone these lowly servants could afford to provoke.

They shrank back immediately.

“I was wrong, please, come in!”

Considering the crowd and the importance of the occasion, it was not the time or place for violence. Qin Zhen gave a cold snort and flung the man aside.

“Uncle Chen, Han, you’re with me. The rest of you stay outside with Zhao Ming.”

Chen Shu said nothing, gripping his sword as he followed closely behind.

Li Han spat viciously at the stunned servants and swaggered in.

Inside, the clinking of cups and lively chatter filled the air.

It was Qin Zhen’s first time in such a grand establishment, and he felt somewhat at a loss, unsure of what to do.

Sensing their unease, as Qin Zhen glanced around, a striking figure appeared before him.

“You must be Qin Zhen?”

She was a woman in her twenties, elegant in a blue gown that accentuated her graceful form. Her lightly painted face radiated intelligence and a hint of curiosity—a clear sign of a formidable woman.

Taken off guard by such a beauty approaching him, Qin Zhen instinctively grew wary.

“And you are?”

“My surname is Fang.”

Her lips curled in a slight smile, her gaze calm and confident.

“Fang Lan.”

There were three great families in the county.

Huang, Chen, and Fang.

Distinct in their spheres, yet their interests intertwined—they controlled nearly eighty percent of all local commerce.

The Fang family, too, had built its fortune in textiles. However, Master Huang’s diverse enterprises had overtaken them, so that the textile market was now split seventy-thirty between the two.

“So you are Miss Fang. My apologies for not recognizing you,” Qin Zhen said, studying her with quiet composure. “May I ask what business brings you to me, Miss Fang?”