The sun blazed at noon, heating the bluestone streets of Beijing’s Cloth Shop Street, yet it couldn’t stop the crowds passing by.
Clerk boys from silk and cotton shops stood at the doors, shouting out deals. Brightly colored fabrics hung from bamboo poles, fluttering in the wind. Mixed with the scent of rouge and the sweetness of snacks, the scene created Beijing’s unique bustling atmosphere.
Jin Xiu Cloth Shop sat in the middle of the street, the grandest shop on the block. A gilded sign hung on the vermilion doorframe, the characters “Jin Xiu” shining. The window displayed the latest Shu silk and Su embroidery, and even the clerks wore slightly worn satin jackets, signaling the shop’s wealth. But inside, the atmosphere was tense, at odds with the street’s liveliness.
Wen Yinyue stood at the shop entrance, wearing a plain brocade dress covered by a dark patterned cloak. The lamb-white jade pendant at her waist peeked subtly from beneath the cloak, glowing softly.
She had left Junye and Lingxi at home—collecting a shop would inevitably involve conflict, and she didn’t want the children to witness it. Only three Shadow members followed discreetly, stationed at the front and back doors to ensure everything went smoothly.
As soon as she stepped in, she heard the sharp snap of an abacus, followed by a brazen male voice: “How do you explain this account? Last month’s Su embroidery profits are five taels short—did you pocket it?”
Wen Yinyue looked up to see a young man in his early twenties behind the counter, wearing a royal-blue satin jacket with gaudy embroidered lotus patterns on the collar. A massive jade ring adorned his left hand. He sat with legs crossed, tapping the counter with abacus beads while scolding the shop manager. This was Liu Hao, Lady Liu’s nephew.
The manager, a man in his fifties wearing a gray cloth jacket, clutched the ledger, sweat on his brow, quietly defending himself: “Young Master Liu, the purchase price of Su embroidery rose last month, so profits were lower. I wouldn’t dare pocket anything…”
“Wouldn’t dare?”
Liu Hao sneered and swept the ledger to the floor. “I think you’re just bold! This cloth shop is mine now. I say you pocketed it, then you did! Argue again, and I’ll have you thrown out of Beijing!”
The manager’s face turned pale. He crouched to pick up the ledger, hands trembling.
Several customers quietly put down fabrics and slipped out. Everyone knew Liu Hao was from the Marquis of Anyuan’s Liu family, abusing the family’s power to bully on this street. No one dared to interfere.
Wen Yinyue’s eyes glinted coldly. She stepped forward, bending to help the manager pick up a ledger, handing it to him. Her voice was calm but piercing: “Young Master Liu, you’re so arrogant because you really think this shop belongs to you?”
Liu Hao finally noticed her and sized her up. Her clothes weren’t luxurious, yet she had an inexplicable presence, especially her eyes—cold as ice, unnervingly piercing.
Thinking this was still his shop, he stiffened his posture. “Who are you? Some crazy woman meddling in my business?”
“Who am I?”
Wen Yinyue straightened, eyes falling on the ledger in his hand. “I’m the real owner of Jin Xiu Cloth Shop—Wen Yinyue, the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Anyuan. Five years ago, this shop was part of my mother’s dowry. The ‘ownership’ in your hands? Nothing but forged papers by your aunt, Lady Liu, secretly transferred to you.”
“Wen Yinyue?”
Liu Hao froze, then laughed loudly. “So you’re the legitimate daughter who supposedly died falling off a cliff five years ago? I thought you were someone important. Turns out you’re just an unwanted child!”
He stepped forward, reaching to push her shoulder. “Listen, this shop is under my name now, filed with the government. Speak nonsense again, and I’ll have you arrested!”
His hand hadn’t touched her cloak before a strong grip caught it.
Liu Hao yelped in pain and turned to see two men in black martial attire inside the shop, tall and sharp-eyed, staring coldly—Wen Yinyue’s Shadow members, Lin Wu and Lin Lei.
“You… who are you? How dare you touch me? My aunt is a marquis’s wife!”
He struggled, but Lin Wu held him tighter, sweat beading on his forehead.
Wen Yinyue ignored his shouts. She took a bundle of documents from Lin Lei and placed them on the counter. At the top were the original property deeds from her mother’s purchase, stamped with official red seals; below were evidence collected by Xiaoyao Pavilion: Lady Liu’s forged “transfer papers” (with fake seals), records of Liu Hao transferring shop profits to Lady Liu’s family, and even the manager’s secret notes of Liu Hao pocketing profits.
“Liu Hao, look closely.”
Wen Yinyue held up the forged papers, pointing to the seal. “This seal was copied by your aunt. The government has no record of this transfer. These transfer vouchers were traced by Xiaoyao Pavilion at the bank—you can’t deny them.”
Liu Hao’s face went pale, eyes darting at the documents, then at the manager—who kept his head low, obviously aware of the truth.
He tried to argue: “You… you’re lying! These are fake! I don’t believe it!”
“Believe it or not, you can go to the authorities and verify.”
Wen Yinyue’s voice grew colder. “Forgery of government documents and embezzling another’s property is punishable by exile or imprisonment under Dashing law. Do you think your aunt Lady Liu, who can’t even protect herself, can protect you?”
Liu Hao’s legs went weak; he nearly collapsed.
Lady Liu, silenced by Wen Yinyue earlier, had no energy to intervene. The evidence was irrefutable; facing the authorities, he had no chance.
Wen Yinyue turned to the manager, her tone softening but still commanding: “You’ve managed Jin Xiu Cloth Shop for ten years—you know it best. Now you have two choices: One, stay with Liu Hao. When he falls, as his accomplice, you’ll lose your job and possibly face consequences. Two, work with me. You’ll remain manager, your salary doubled, with 30% of profits. All Jin Xiu shops in Beijing will be under your management.”
The manager’s eyes widened in shock and hesitation. With Liu Hao, he earned only five taels a month and was often scolded or hit. Wen Yinyue’s offer was like a miracle.
He feared Lady Liu’s revenge—but seeing Lin Wu and Lin Lei behind her, recalling how easily Liu Hao was subdued, and Xiaoyao Pavilion’s reputation in Beijing (even the county magistrate had been overturned), he bit his lip and knelt: “I… I’ll follow you, Miss! I’ll manage the shop well, never betray you!”
“Stand up.” Wen Yinyue helped him up. “Don’t worry. With Xiaoyao Pavilion here, neither Lady Liu nor Liu Hao will bother you. From today, the shop’s ledgers are yours. Daily profits go directly to the bank account I specify, bypassing Liu Hao.”
“Yes! Thank you, Miss!”
The manager’s hands shook as he spoke, full of excitement. He quickly handed over the shop keys.
Liu Hao trembled with rage, but dared not act—Lin Wu still held his arm, warning him silently. He could only glare fiercely at Wen Yinyue.
Wen Yinyue smiled coldly. “I’ll be waiting. But for now, leave my shop.”
She signaled Lin Wu and Lin Lei, who escorted Liu Hao out, reminding him to consider confessing his crimes to lessen punishment.
The sunlight outside continued to blaze, the street still bustling, but everyone knew—the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Anyuan, Wen Yinyue, had returned, starting to settle old scores from five years ago.
Standing at the shop entrance, Wen Yinyue looked toward the marquis’s mansion, eyes firm.
Lady Liu, Wen Wanru—you owe me, you owe the original owner, you owe this family. I will reclaim everything, piece by piece. This Jin Xiu Cloth Shop is just the beginning.