Liu Fang burst through the front doors of the East Market Tea House, breathless and shivering, her cheeks bright red from both the freezing wind and pure exhaustion.
Yimei sat by the window reviewing the account ledgers. Seeing Liu Fang return so quickly with empty hands, her dark eyes flickered with a quiet, sharp awareness.
"Young Miss..." Liu Fang stammered, bowing her head in deep shame. She held out the untouched pouch of silver with trembling hands. "I... I failed. Every single merchant down the street said their dried ginger, honey, and plum blossoms were completely sold out just ten minutes ago! Someone bought out the entire market with pure silver!"
Qinqin gasped, leaning in. "The whole street? How is that possible?"
"And that’s not all," Liu Fang added, her voice dropping into a stressed whisper. "A strange woman in a grey cloak approached me in the alley. She knew exactly what I was looking for and told me to go to Wenlong Tea House because they are the only ones with stock left."
Yimei reached out, taking the heavy pouch of silver back into her palm.
’Every merchant sold out in ten minutes? A stranger conveniently pointing to the biggest supply house in the capital?’ Yimei thought, tapping her fingers lightly against the wooden table. ’This is far too convenient to be an accident. Someone is deliberately backing us into a corner.’
"Miss," Qinqin whispered nervously, looking at Yimei’s quiet face. "Should we just go back to the manor? This feels like a trap."
"If someone sets a trap, Qinqin, you don’t run away," Yimei said smoothly, rising from her chair and fastening her cloak over her shoulder. "You walk right into it to see who is holding the rope."
She turned to Liu Fang, giving her an approving nod. "You did well, Liu Fang. Stay here and keep the shop clean. I will handle Wenlong Tea House myself."
"Yes, Young Miss! Please be careful!" Liu Fang said, bowing deeply.
Yimei tucked the silver pouch securely into her waist sash and stepped toward the exit, her posture straight, her boots clicking softly against the floor.
"Come, Qinqin," Yimei said calmly, stepping out into the snowy street as the doors closed behind them. "Let us go meet the person behind this little game."
....
The snow fell steadily over the central district as Yimei and Qinqin walked down the main avenue toward Wenlong Tea House.
Unlike the smaller shops on the street, Wenlong Tea House stood three stories high, built with grand dark wood and adorned with rich scarlet lanterns that glowed warmly against the white snow. It was renowned as the largest, most expensive merchant house for premium tea leaves, rare herbs, and imported sweets in the capital.
Qinqin kept her head low, nervously pulling her cloak tight as she looked up at the impressive wooden entrance.
"Miss," Qinqin whispered, leaning close to Yimei. "Everything here is so grand. Do you really think whoever bought up all the market stall stock is inside there?"
"We will know in a moment," Yimei replied calmly, her face impassive as she stepped through the grand double doors.
Inside, the shop was immaculate. Rich incense mingled with the deep scent of aged tea leaves and sweet dried fruits. Tall wooden shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with neatly arranged porcelain jars and silk bags.
Behind a wide, polished mahogany counter sat a sharp-eyed head clerk wearing a fine grey silk robe. Seeing Yimei and Qinqin enter, his eyes swept over Yimei’s simple attire and the subtle rip hidden beneath her fur collar. A slight, condescending smirk touched the corner of his lips.
"Welcome to Wenlong Tea House," the head clerk said, his tone polite on the surface but lacking any real warmth or respect. "How may I assist you today?"
Yimei walked up to the counter, her dark eyes looking straight into his.
"I am looking to purchase bulk quantities of high-grade dried ginger, plum blossoms, hawthorn, and raw honey," Yimei said smoothly. "I was informed your shop currently holds the only remaining stock in the central district."
The head clerk’s smile widened slightly a little too quickly.
"Ah, you must be from the East Market Tea House," the clerk said, dipping a writing brush into ink as if he had been expecting her all along. "You are in luck. We just acquired a large shipment of those exact items less than half an hour ago."
Yimei’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Less than half an hour ago.
"Is that so?" Yimei asked, her voice dropping into a quiet, pleasant tone. "And what would the price be for five jars of honey and ten catties of dried ginger?"
The clerk tapped his ledger with a smug expression. "For high-grade stock... three times the normal market rate. Cash upfront."
Qinqin gasped softly behind Yimei. "Three times?! That is total robbery!"
The clerk didn’t even blink. He looked at Yimei with complete confidence, convinced that this desperate young woman had no other choice but to pay whatever price he demanded.
Up on the private second-floor balcony overlooking the main counter, hidden behind a thin bamboo screen, sat Xiao Jun. He held a small porcelain cup, taking a slow, amused sip as he watched Yimei stand before his shop clerk.
’Now, little bird,’ Xiao Jun thought, a mischievous smirk touching his handsome face. ’How will you handle this?’
Down below, Yimei did not get angry, nor did she attempt to bargain. Instead, she reached into her waist sash, took out the heavy pouch of silver taels, and set it down onto the wooden counter with a clear, heavy thud.
"I will buy your entire stock," Yimei said calmly.
The clerk blinked, caught off guard by her instant agreement. But before his fingers could touch the silver pouch, Yimei placed her hand firmly over it, stopping him in his tracks.
"However," Yimei continued, her gaze turning as cold and sharp as ice, "I will only deal directly with the true owner of this shop. Tell your owner on the second floor to step down, or I take my silver elsewhere."