By noon the next day, the Qiao couple arrived again—this time bringing with them a disheveled, gaunt young man and a young woman holding a baby.
As soon as they entered, the five of them knelt in unison before Zhao Mingyan and Wang Shuang.
“Thank you, Madam! Thank you, my lord!”
That morning, Nan Yan had attended court. He had taken care of the matter that Zhao Mingyan had told him about.
When the session ended, the Prefect ordered Qiao’s son released. The coroner examined the corpse and found the man had died from drinking *he ding hong* (arsenic). A vial of the poison was discovered in his clothing.
The case was immediately clear: the man had committed suicide at the Qiao family teahouse.
Qiao’s son was exonerated and freed. The family knew this was not because the Prefect had suddenly grown a conscience. The body had lain in the yamen for three days, ignored, with no one allowed to see it. Their cries and pleas had been brushed aside with “the case is under investigation.” If not for Nan Yan’s intervention, the corpse would have rotted before anyone thought to check for the poison vial.
In this world, there might be laws and a little justice—but only when both sides were ordinary people. If one side had power, the law no longer applied.
Grateful beyond words, the entire Qiao family rushed to Nan Yan’s residence to kowtow in thanks.
Seeing the scene, Wang Shuang hurriedly tried to raise them. “It was nothing, nothing—please, get up!”
But the family insisted. “Without Madam, the young lady, and my lord’s help, we would all be doomed. You are our family’s saviors! We must bow in gratitude!”
“Thank you, Madam! Thank you, Madam!”
“Thank you, benefactors!”
Wang Shuang watched helplessly as they knocked their heads loudly against the floor, unable to pull them up. Finally, she turned to Zhao Mingyan.
“Mingyan, please tell them to stop. It’s enough.”
Zhao Mingyan’s lips curved slightly. She stepped forward and said, “All right. Madam has told you to rise. This is nothing worth such fuss—too many bows only become tiresome.”
At her words, the Qiao family quickly stood.
“Thank you, Madam. Thank you, young lady.”
Old Qiao steadied himself, then, trembling, pulled out a deed from his robe. “Miss, this is the land and property deed for our Qiao family teahouse. As agreed yesterday, we will sell it to the Nan residence for eight hundred taels of silver.”
Zhao Mingyan’s eyes lit up at the sight of the deed. The Nan household finally had its very first enterprise.
Teahouse +1!
Zhao Mingyan took the land and property deeds, checked them carefully, then used the household key Nan Yan had given her to retrieve eight hundred taels of silver from his storeroom.
After receiving the key, she had inspected the storeroom. In truth, it was just a front‑yard room filled with miscellaneous tables and chairs, plus a money chest in Nan Yan’s study.
When Wang Shuang refused to manage it, Zhao Mingyan had opened the chest in front of her and counted the silver together. Nan Yan had a total of nine hundred and twenty‑one taels.
Yesterday, after agreeing to help Old Qiao, she had promised to pay for the shop—eight hundred taels.
The market value of that teahouse was at least twelve hundred taels, and with all the stock included, nearly sixteen hundred. By paying only eight hundred, Zhao Mingyan had essentially bought it for half price. She had made a huge gain.
Of course, for the Qiao family, it was not a loss either. They had already been targeted and persecuted by Guangfeng Teahouse. Their only son had been thrown into prison and, after just three days, was already tortured beyond recognition. A few days later, he might not have survived at all. If he had died, the teahouse would certainly have been seized outright by Guangfeng.
The Qiao family had already resigned themselves to giving the entire teahouse away. Zhao Mingyan, however, paid them silver for it. Though the price was half the market value, it was still real money, and they hadn’t truly lost out.
Zhao Mingyan was benevolent, and Lord Nan was benevolent!
Old Qiao was deeply grateful to her. After handing over the deeds willingly, he left with his family, reluctant but resigned.
At that moment, Zhao Mingyan spoke again.
“Uncle Qiao.”
“Miss Mingyan, is there more?” Old Qiao asked. Though his greatest worry had been resolved, he still felt lost.
His family had run their teahouse in the capital for decades, painstakingly building up this small business. Now, although Zhao Mingyan had saved his son and paid them silver for the shop, they had lost their livelihood. They didn’t know what to do next. And after this ordeal, they dared not open another shop anytime soon. Without protection, even a small business that grew slightly larger would be treated as prey by others. This left them anxious, insecure, and adrift.
“If your family hasn’t yet decided what to do, you can continue managing the teahouse.” Zhao Mingyan’s voice rang out again.
“Consider it that we’re hiring you as stewards to help us run the teahouse. Two taels of silver per month, plus twenty percent of the profits as a bonus. Does that work?”
She straightened her back, her eyes bright as she looked at the family. She was inviting the Qiao family to work for her.
Since the teahouse had been purchased, she would certainly need managers. In these times, hiring wasn’t something done casually—you had to know someone’s background and ability. Usually, trusted household servants were appointed, because loyalty was the most important factor. Hiring outsiders risked them running off with the shop’s assets.
But the Nan household had too few servants. Only Uncle Chen was a proper bonded servant, and he was elderly and busy guarding the gate. Zhao Mingyan couldn’t send him. So she set her sights on Old Qiao’s family.
It was perfect: they had managed the teahouse for generations, knew it inside out, lived nearby, and owed gratitude to the Nan family. Hiring them would be far more reassuring.
For the Qiao family, this was a blessing beyond measure. They no longer had to worry about finding new livelihoods or painstakingly starting over. They could return to their own teahouse, now under Nan family protection. Though technically they would be employees of the Nan household, Zhao Mingyan offered them a monthly wage plus a share of profits. They weren’t being sold into servitude.
In this era, survival depended on mutual support—only by banding together could people thrive.
Hearing this, Old Qiao turned, overwhelmed, and led his family in loud kowtows before Zhao Mingyan.
“Thank you, Miss Mingyan. We’ll do it!”
Zhao Mingyan gave a faint smile. “I’ll say this upfront: every month, the account books must be presented to me. If I find even one suspicious entry, don’t blame me for being harsh.”
“Miss Mingyan, rest assured. From now on, we’ll devote ourselves to serving the Nan household. We’ll never deceive our masters!”