“After deliberation between this old man and the esteemed judges, the four brocades presented by Cloud Silk Atelier are deemed to possess novel concepts, unique ingenuity, and deeply capture… hmm… the charm of nature and the true essence of Confucian moderation. They are hereby judged the finest of this appreciation gathering!”
Shen Nianyi stood frozen in place, momentarily at a loss for how to react.
So… they had won?
She looked at Pei Yanshu’s utterly unperturbed demeanor, as if the person who had just invoked the Emperor to intimidate everyone wasn’t him at all.
Three years of meticulous caution, of following every rule, seemed far less effective than his one act of stirring the pot.
Shen Nianyi surveyed the hall full of guests holding their breath, then looked at those competitors who had been so arrogant just moments ago but now could only seethe in silent fury. Suddenly, the world seemed absurdly laughable.
Pei Yanshu had already carefully packed away the brocades and strolled to her side. This time, he truly spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear: “What’s wrong? Feeling the win isn’t solid?”
Shen Nianyi opened her mouth but found herself speechless.
He chuckled lightly, tapping her shoulder with his fan. “Sometimes real skill is important, but knowing how to tell a good story is even more so. I merely helped them tell a story no one dared refute.”
On the journey back.
The carriage wheels rumbled, carrying them away from the Weaving Bureau’s villa.
“An audience with His Majesty? The Emperor agreed?” Shen Nianyi raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with disbelief. “Pei Yanshu, do you even bother drafting your lies?”
Pei Yanshu, who had been holding aside a corner of the carriage curtain to watch the passing streetscape, turned his head at her words. A roguish grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “The process isn’t important; the result is. See? Aren’t we now firmly in the Emperor’s good graces?”
“You…” Shen Nianyi was momentarily speechless by his shamelessness. Yet, recalling the stunned, furious-but-dare-not-speak expressions of Elder Liu and the other merchants, she couldn’t help but let out a soft “pfft” of laughter. “Shameless.”
“Your praise is too kind,” he replied with mock solemnity, a sly glint in his eyes.
Looking at him like this, the unease Shen Nianyi had felt over their unorthodox path to victory strangely dissipated.
She had to admit, this fellow who talked a mile a minute, though his methods were outrageous, was… truly effective.
A quiet settled inside the carriage, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the wheels.
Pei Yanshu suddenly spoke, his voice a shade lower than usual. “Besides, seeing you so worried about materials and orders before that you were practically shedding golden tears… if I could help you, what’s a little lie?”
“Who… who was shedding golden tears?!” Shen Nianyi bristled instantly, her cheeks flushing crimson. “I was doing the accounts! Figuring out if we’d make a profit or a loss this month! It was just ledger dust in my eyes!”
The more she spoke, the angrier she got. She reached out to pinch his arm. “Pei Yanshu, what would happen if you stopped spouting nonsense?!”
Pei Yanshu laughed, dodging her attack. Far from being annoyed, he took the opportunity to grab her wrist and leaned in closer. His peach-blossom eyes danced with mischief. “Oh? So it was ledger dust, was it…”
He drew out the words, his breath brushing her ear. “Then I wonder who it was, squatting by the dye vats in the backyard late at night, stirring the dye while wiping her eyes, making poor Xiao Ya run over to hand you a handkerchief three times?”
Having her secret exposed so directly, and with her wrist still in his grasp, Shen Nianyi was both mortified and flustered, a blush spreading to her neck. “You… let go! That was… that was from the smoke!”
“Yes, yes, smoked.” Pei Yanshu nodded agreeably, the amusement in his eyes growing even stronger. “The stove in our Cloud Silk Atelier is truly unique, specializing in smoking the manager’s eyes.”
“Pei Yanshu!” Shen Nianyi was so angry she wanted to stamp her feet, but unfortunately, there was no room to do so in the carriage. She could only try to pull her hand back forcefully.
He, however, tightened his fingers slightly, not letting her break free, and casually changed the subject: “Next, we just wait for orders to come flying in like snowflakes. Manager Shen, get ready to count money until your hands cramp.”
The anger Shen Nianyi had been holding onto was gently punctured by his words, deflating like a leaky balloon with a soft pfft.
She pressed her lips together but ultimately couldn’t hold back, the corners of her mouth uncontrollably curving upward. The forced look of annoyance instantly melted away like ice and snow, transforming into a radiant smile.
“Who wants to count money until their hands cramp…” she muttered softly. This time, with a gentle tug, he released her hand.
Shen Nianyi turned to look out the window at the bustling streets of Chang’an. The heavy burden in her heart seemed to genuinely lighten considerably.
Perhaps… with this unconventional partner by her side, the road ahead would truly be different.
Weaving Bureau Annex, dining hall in the rear hall.
Old Liu, the court supplier, was sighing at a table full of exquisite dishes.
Holding silver chopsticks, he poked at a plate of steamed shad fish a couple of times, then disdainfully pushed it aside. Turning to a pot of soup beside it, said to be simmered for six hours with over a dozen medicinal herbs and an old hen, he scooped a spoonful, tasted it, and set it down with little interest.
“These cooks nowadays only know how to put on fancy airs! Either the food is so greasy it’s sickening, or it’s bland as water! None of it suits my taste! Eating is no fun at all. It’s not as satisfying as a bowl of hot plain noodles from a roadside stall back when I traveled north and south with my master!”
The servant attending the meal kept his head down, not daring to respond.
Just then, the steward from outside carefully entered, holding a gift register.
“Master, the gifts sent from various households today have all been recorded. Please review them.” The steward presented the register. “Most are gold, jade, and antiques. As per custom, they can be stored in the warehouse. However…”
“However what?” Old Liu lazily flipped open the register.
“It’s just… that jar of… pickled vegetables sent by Young Master Pei from Cloud Silk Atelier. How should it be handled?” The steward’s expression was somewhat indescribable. “Should we just… throw it away?”
“Pickled vegetables?” Old Liu remembered—that coarse earthenware jar.
He had initially intended to wave it off for disposal, but for some reason, thinking of Pei Yanshu’s unruly yet oddly pleasing demeanor at today’s appraisal, he inexplicably changed his mind:
“Bring it here, bring it here. This meal is tasteless anyway; it’ll go well with the food.”
The steward looked astonished but quickly had someone bring over the unremarkable coarse clay jar.
As soon as the lid was opened, a refreshing sour aroma mixed with just the right amount of spiciness instantly wafted out, making one’s mouth water. It was completely different from the overly salty taste of ordinary pickled vegetables.
Old Liu raised an eyebrow and picked up a chopstickful of golden, crisp radish pickle to taste.
With a light crunch, sour, sweet, salty, and spicy flavors exploded in his mouth, distinct yet perfectly blended. It was both refreshing and appetizing, instantly awakening his taste buds.
“Hmm?!” Elder Liu’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he quickly picked up another bite with his chopsticks. Paired with the plain rice he had previously found tasteless, his appetite was unexpectedly whetted, and he eagerly shoveled several mouthfuls.
“This… this flavor…” He ate so eagerly he could hardly speak, feeling that this seemingly ordinary pickled vegetable suited his gourmet palate better than the entire table of delicacies! Especially that unique lingering sweetness and faint hint of fruity wood aroma—it was certainly not something an ordinary workshop could produce.
“Go!” He swallowed the food in his mouth and urgently instructed the steward, “Go find out whose craftsmanship this pickled vegetable comes from! No, go ask that kid Pei Liu directly! This pickled vegetable… there’s something special about it!”
He looked at the jar of pickled vegetables and shook his head with a wry smile. That kid Pei Yanshu, even when sending a gift, he never followed convention, yet somehow… he always managed to hit the mark and scratch just the right itch.
It seemed that from now on, the Cloud Silk Atelier would find it hard not to be bustling.
Inside the Cloud Silk Atelier, the clamor of voices was deafening, as if it had absorbed all the noise of the entire West Market.
More than seven days had passed since returning from the Weaving Bureau tea gathering, yet the fervor had not only failed to subside but had instead intensified.
In the past, A Man still needed to stand at the entrance with a charming smile to attract customers, but now the threshold was nearly worn down by the constant stream of visitors. Palace procurement eunuchs, estate stewards from royal mansions, wealthy merchants from Jiangnan… all crowded into the already cramped shopfront until it was packed to the brim.
“Manager! The Wang Minister’s household wants to order ten bolts of Buddha’s Hand Gold for longevity screens! They’re asking when they can get them at the earliest!”
“Manager Shen! The Yongning Princess Consort sent a matron, requesting eight bolts of Cloud-Dream Neon-Glow Brocade for summer garments, and she wants the patterns by tomorrow!”
“And the merchant from Jiangnan, he opened with an order for fifty bolts of Rain-Cleansed Azure Sky, asking if we can deliver on time…”
A Man’s voice had grown slightly hoarse, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement and busyness. She carried a stack of orders taller than her chin, shuttling between the counter and the shelves, her voice bright and crisp:
“Esteemed guests, please remain calm! One at a time, we at Cloud Silk Atelier guarantee that any order we accept will be fulfilled to your utmost satisfaction!”
Da Chun was even busier, spinning like a top. Sweat soaked through his coarse cloth shirt, and his bangs stuck to his forehead. Huffing and puffing, he hauled heavy bolts of satin from the backyard storeroom, then sorted and packaged them according to the orders for delivery to various households.
Whenever he caught a moment’s break, he would grab the cold tea on the counter and gulp it down, a simple, honest smile of joy never leaving his lips.
Even Xiao Ya, who usually had almost no presence, was entrusted with an important task.
He sat on a small stool in the corner of the counter, with cut flower-patterned paper spread before him. Holding a fine wolf-hair brush, he meticulously recorded the customers’ requirements, measurements, and deposit amounts, stroke by stroke.
His handwriting was neat and elegant. Occasionally, he would look up at the bustling scene in the shop, his eyes sparkling brightly.
The entire Cloud Silk Atelier, from the inside out, was immersed in a busy and joyful atmosphere of harvest and vitality.
The clinking of silver coins entering the coffers, the clattering of abacus beads, the responses of the shop assistants, and the discussions of the customers all intertwined into a symphony of prosperous market life.
Yet, amidst this sea of jubilation, there was one isolated island that stood out.
Shen Nianyi sat at the innermost side of the counter, a thick general ledger spread open before her, with an even taller stack of pending orders beside it. She held a brush in her hand, but its tip hovered above the paper for a long time, never touching down.
She stared blankly at the bustling street outside, her fingers idly tapping on the rosewood abacus, producing dull, rhythmic clicks.
The sound was drowned out by the surrounding noise.
Click.
A clearer tap echoed from the edge of the counter.
Shen Nianyi snapped back to attention and saw Pei Yanshu leaning casually against the counter, having appeared there unnoticed. Today, he wore a dark cyan casual robe, idly twirling the small porcelain vial that had once held the gold-flecked ink powder.
“Manager Shen, what’s this…” he drawled, his gaze sweeping over the mountain of orders piled before her before settling back on her face. “Have you counted so much money that you’ve forgotten how to use an abacus?”
Shen Nianyi had no energy to banter with him, feeling a dull ache already beginning to throb at her temples.
She took a deep breath and pushed the ledger marked with bright red annotations toward him.
“Since Chief Manager Pei has the leisure to make sarcastic remarks, perhaps you should take a look at this.”
Pei Yanshu raised an eyebrow, took the ledger, and began flipping through it carelessly.
As he turned page after page, Shen Nianyi noticed the playful smirk on his face gradually fade, and even his page-turning slowed.
Hmph, let’s see if you can keep up that smug expression.
He closed the ledger. “Luminous stone powder—remaining stock: three catties and seven taels. Such a small inventory is indeed concerning.”
Just as Shen Nianyi was about to speak, he added, “This luminous stone powder… it wouldn’t happen to be that glowing sand you added to the dye vat last time, would it?”
“What sand!” Shen Nianyi felt the urge to hit him. “That’s a rare mineral from the Western Regions! The Cloud-Dream Neon-Glow Brocade’s ability to shimmer in the dark relies entirely on it! Without it, the Cloud-Dream Rainbow Glow is just an ordinary roll of white satin!”
“So,” he finally grew more serious, “where did you get such a precious thing in the first place? Did you pick it up in some celestial cave?”
Shen Nianyi replied irritably, “My father bought it from a caravan of Western merchants four years ago. That caravan has long since disappeared.”
Pei Yanshu nodded thoughtfully. “So, this stuff is finite—once the stock runs out…”
“The Cloud-Dream Neon-Glow Brocade will vanish from Cloud Silk Atelier’s shelves,” Shen Nianyi finished, her tone heavy.
“That’s perfect,” Pei Yanshu’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Since it’s so rare, let’s make it a limited edition. Release only three bolts per month, sold to the highest bidder.”
“You…” Shen Nianyi stared at him in disbelief. “How can that be? The Cloud-Dream Neon-Glow Brocade is one of Cloud Silk Atelier’s signature products now. How could we…”
Just then, she noticed something strange—
The shop, which had been bustling with noise moments ago, had suddenly fallen silent.
The sounds of haggling, the rustling of fabric being examined, even the clerks’ greetings—all had vanished.
Puzzled, she looked up and followed everyone’s gaze toward the entrance.