Since Zhu Qingyu had fallen asleep, Zhang Shen instructed the driver to slow the carriage. He himself had barely slept the night before and was exhausted, so he carefully leaned against Zhu Qingyu and dozed off beside her.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept when the carriage suddenly came to a stop. Zhang Shen, who had only been half-asleep, woke at once and asked:
“What’s the matter?”
The driver said:
“Master, up ahead at the intersection, an eight-bearer official sedan is coming this way. The road is a bit narrow—we might collide.”
An eight-bearer sedan meant an official of at least the third rank. Between the hours of yin and mao was precisely when ministers of various departments set out for the morning court, so encountering one at this time was perfectly normal.
According to ceremonial protocol, the lowly yield to the noble. There was no need to compete for the road with a capital official and risk offending someone without even knowing it. Zhang Shen rose and instructed:
“Let’s pull to the side and wait—let them pass.”
The carriage pulled over to the right and stopped. Zhang Shen got out and waited to one side, but the oncoming sedan didn’t approach—it too stopped at the intersection ahead.
When paths cross on a narrow road, the higher-ranking official prevails; whoever holds the higher office goes first.
Behind them came the clatter of hooves. For a third-rank official to yield proactively, it meant some important figure behind them was also heading to court. Zhang Shen continued waiting to the side, letting the horsemen behind pass first.
The horses behind had been moving at speed, but as they drew near, someone suddenly called out “Whoa!” and reined in sharply.
Zhang Shen looked back by the light of the carriage lantern and saw the newcomer—a man in red robes on a black horse. It was Vice Minister Gu of the Ministry of Revenue.
Vice Minister Gu halted beside the carriage, expressionless, staring fixedly at the Zhang family’s blue-cloth carriage.
Zhang Shen’s heart tightened with anxiety. He quickly scanned his own carriage, worried that if there were any violation of sumptuary regulations, the upright and incorruptible Vice Minister Gu might catch them.
Fortunately, the Zhang family’s blue-cloth carriage was the most ordinary, everyday style—plain and low-key on the outside, with not the slightest ornamentation. Among common folk in the capital who used carriages, whether bought or rented, eight out of ten households used exactly this kind.
Zhang Shen felt his carriage had no violations, but Vice Minister Gu had been staring at it for far too long. Zhang Shen couldn’t help but feel uneasy, worrying there might be some oversight he hadn’t noticed. He hurried forward, cupping his hands in salute:
“Your humble subject Zhang Shen pays respects to Vice Minister Gu.”
Gu Zhao turned his head and only then noticed that a person was standing beside the carriage—it was Zhang Jingyan, the Yangzhou chief merchant whom Yan Pan had denounced yesterday.
Salt tax was the lifeblood of the nation, and among all the salt regions, the Lianghuai circuit bore the heaviest burden. So after joining the Ministry of Revenue, Gu Zhao had summoned all eight chief merchants of Lianghuai to inquire about salt affairs there.
As for Zhang Jingyan, Gu Zhao had previously held a favorable opinion of him. Though the youngest among the eight chief merchants, he was worldly-wise and cautious, spoke with substance, and was a man who could be put to use.
If what Yan Pan had reported—that the Zhang family was colluding with salt smugglers to traffic private salt—proved true, it would be a pity. The Yan family’s fate today would be the Zhang family’s fate tomorrow: the men executed, the women enslaved as government bondservants.
But whether it was true or false, whether it was a false accusation or fact, could only be known after investigation. There was no need to startle the snake by striking the grass.
So Gu Zhao nodded and asked:
“Jingyan, in this bitter cold, what are you doing here so early?”
Zhang Shen had been summoned by Vice Minister Gu only once, and the meeting had lasted less than two quarters of an hour. He hadn’t expected that the busy vice minister, with a mountain of affairs to attend to, would still remember his courtesy name. He hurriedly replied:
“In answer to Vice Minister Gu, your humble servant is returning home today and was heading to Tongzhou Harbor to board a ship, so I set out early to avoid missing the departure time.”
Tongzhou Harbor was a full sixty li from the capital—one ought to set out early indeed. So Gu Zhao exchanged a few pleasantries wishing him a safe journey, then urged his horse forward toward court. At the intersection he turned a corner, and in a moment only the sound of hooves remained, the rider gone from sight.
Only after the eight-bearer sedan ahead had also departed from the intersection did Zhang Shen climb back into the carriage. Inside, Zhu Qingyu was still half-wrapped in her blanket, leaning against the carriage wall—but her eyes were open. She was awake.
Zhang Shen helped tuck the blanket around her and asked:
“Did the noise wake you?”
Zhu Qingyu had woken the moment she heard Gu Zhao’s voice. Thinking of the gossip she’d overheard while making her house call at the Gu residence last night, she hesitated, then said in a low voice:
“That was the young master of the Gu family just now? I heard the Gu servants say that Old Madame Gu’s collapse was caused by Vice Minister Gu taking a tongfang.”
Zhang Shen was somewhat surprised:
“Isn’t Vice Minister Gu a monk? He’s taking a tongfang too? Oh, well—he did return to lay life after all.”
Zhu Qingyu hadn’t brought this up for gossip. She continued:
“The girl Vice Minister Gu wants to take is surnamed Yan. She was originally the daughter of an official family, only recently bought into the household as a servant. It seems Miss Yan was unwilling or something and made a scene in the house, and now she’s to be sold off again. If her surname is Yan—Jingyan, do you think it could be that Miss Yan we know?”
Zhang Shen remembered that Zhu Qingyu hadn’t particularly liked this Miss Yan before. Why was she thinking of her now? He asked:
“Yan isn’t a common surname, and there are even fewer officials surnamed Yan in the government. I only know of one, and it’s most likely her. Yan’s family members were escorted into the capital half a month ago, and the timing matches up. Are you worried about her? Want to ransom her out? If you really want to, I’ll go ask the government broker.”
Zhu Qingyu quickly said:
“No, no, no, I don’t like her at all. Don’t go buying me a little ancestor to worship. I’m just worried whether Yan’s case might implicate you, after all, we’ve sent the Yan family so much money.”
Zhu Qingyu truly disliked Yan Pan, and in fact, she disliked the entire Yan family. She wouldn’t deal with them unless absolutely necessary.
After all, who would like someone who was imperious, arrogant, and extravagant, ordering people around and asking for money at every turn?
In the past, the Yan family would host banquets every few days under various pretexts—even when Yan Pan’s cat had kittens, they’d invite the wives of all the major merchant families to attend. Whether or not the guests showed up, they had to send gifts. If the gifts were too meager, the Yan family would send servants to block their doorsteps and demand more. When people talked privately, everyone complained bitterly about it.
So it wasn’t just Zhu Qingyu who disliked them—Zhang Shen disliked them even more. Upon hearing this, he smiled and said softly:
“Rest easy. We’re not the only family sending money. In all of Yangzhou, any household with even a hint of connection to the salt trade has been extorted by Lord Yan. Besides, the Yan case is already closed. Lord Gu personally presided over the trial and rendered the verdict—no new waves will surface. In the end, Lord Yan was simply too greedy. His appetite was too unsightly, leaving everyone with no way to survive. That’s why it came to this. These successive Salt Commissioners—ah, the last one was a lecher, this one was a money-grubber. Not a single good one among them. I wonder if the newly appointed Lord Dai will be any better.”
After all, they were speaking ill of others behind their backs, so both of them kept their voices low, whispering secrets into each other’s ears. In this manner, they passed through the eastern city gate, joined up with the Zhang family’s carriage convoy waiting outside, and headed toward Tongzhou.
By the afternoon, Zhu Qingyu and her party finally arrived at Tongzhou Port, found their own boat, unloaded the luggage, and loaded it aboard. Thus they departed from this capital of strict rules and powerful nobles, heading toward the misty waterways of Yangzhou—that land of spring breezes and decadent splendor.