Chapter 86: Signs (1)

The next day, when Shen Xiling woke up, Qi Ying had already gone to court.

She awoke in her own room. When she got up, the movement alerted Shui Pei and Feng Chang outside, who promptly entered to assist her with washing and dressing.

Shen Xiling was somewhat embarrassed to realize she had slept so soundly that she didn’t even remember how she returned to Woyu Courtyard. She asked Shui Pei and Feng Chang about it.

Both maids giggled, covering their mouths. Feng Chang replied while laughing, “How else could you have returned? Master Qi naturally carried you back.”

Upon hearing this, Shen Xiling’s pretty little face turned beet red.

He carried her back...

...and she hadn’t felt a thing, sleeping so deeply.

Her cheeks flushed red as she quietly scolded herself while secretly justifying her actions. Perhaps being near him made her feel too secure—why hadn’t he woken her?

It wasn’t entirely her fault.

The day was clear and crisp, with high skies and light clouds. After breakfast, Shen Xiling felt a bit lazy, likely due to autumn fatigue, and decided to rest for the day, not venturing out to check on her business.

Indeed, she had no mind for anything else today. The scene of being with him last night lingered in her thoughts, his words and actions vividly imprinted in her mind, making her alternately joyful and sweet, yet also inexplicably anxious and worried. Her heart couldn’t hold any other thoughts.

She originally planned to rest well today, picking out a couple of books from the Forgetfulness Room to appear busy, masking her secret musings to avoid being teased by Shui Pei and the others. However, before she could reach the door of the Forgetfulness Room, Zi Jun informed her that Liu Zi had brought Song Haotang to Fenghe Garden.

This was quite an unusual occurrence.

Come to think of it, Song Haotang was indeed fortunate. Three years ago, he merely managed dyeing fabrics at the fabric shop. Later, due to his expertise in weaving white cotton, he gained Shen Xiling’s trust. Finding him honest and experienced from his travels, she promoted him heavily over the years, consulting him on many matters, from purchasing estates to opening branches. He now held more influence than Manager Lu.

Being a capable man, Song Haotang rarely visited Fenghe Garden. His presence now surely meant trouble.

Upon hearing the news, Shen Xiling’s autumn fatigue vanished instantly. She immediately instructed Zi Jun to invite him to the main hall.

After tidying up, she arrived at the main hall to see Song Haotang with a furrowed brow, which naturally alarmed her. After seating herself, she asked, “Mr. Song has come personally—is there some trouble with the business?”

Song Haotang greeted Shen Xiling and ignored the tea offered by the maids. With a somber expression, he bowed to Shen Xiling, saying, “I apologize for disturbing you uninvited, please forgive me, Miss—there is indeed a troublesome matter…”

The issue Song Haotang described had some complexity.

A few years ago, the batch of white cotton textiles they launched was fine in texture and low in price, gaining popularity among the common people and sparking a craze in Jiankang. The small fabric shop thus prospered, saved from the brink of collapse. Seizing the momentum, Shen Xiling opened several branches, which now flourished significantly.

While white cotton textiles were novel, merchants are inherently profit-driven, and competition was inevitable after she pioneered the trend. Shen Xiling found this unsurprising; business was like that. She neither intended nor could monopolize the trade; money was to be shared, naturally. However, it wasn’t easy for other merchants to immediately profit from this business since the cultivation of white cotton hadn’t spread widely in Jiangnan, limiting the raw material supply—a threshold for others entering the market.

Based on this, Shen Xiling devised another profitable venture.

Mr. Tian’s vast estates in Fujian and Guangdong grew abundant white cotton, more than Shen Xiling’s shops could handle. She bought all the surplus and resold it to other fabric shop owners in Jiankang. Additionally, she had Meng Yingying teach them the weaving technique, on the condition of taking two-tenths of their profits as compensation.

This became a long-term business, both time-saving and effortless, showcasing her shrewd calculations.

However, not everyone was willing to partake.

Small scattered fabric shops, lacking connections to procure white cotton estates, mostly agreed to cooperate with Shen Xiling. But large fabric shops with extensive networks naturally wouldn’t willingly share profits, refusing to deal with Shen Xiling.

This was reasonable. Shen Xiling didn’t force them. In the past year, she focused on consolidating smaller fabric shop businesses, accumulating significant profits. Moreover, she now owned her own estates, where white cotton was cheaper than Mr. Tian’s, making this business even more lucrative.

Yet, there was another complication.

Shen Xiling and the small fabric shops under her protection sourced white cotton either from Mr. Tian or her own estates, thus enjoying low prices and producing textiles at lower costs. Those large fabric shops unwilling to cooperate with Shen Xiling could buy white cotton but faced rising prices due to the booming market. Estates weren’t foolish; knowing the profit potential, they raised prices, making Shen Xiling’s textiles much cheaper than others, significantly so upon calculation.

This was naturally advantageous for Shen Xiling but disadvantageous for the large fabric shops.

Seeing their textiles priced high with thin margins and low sales, how could the large fabric shop owners be content? They reported Shen Xiling to the Weaving Guild, accusing her shop of selling at low prices and disrupting the white cotton textile market.

This was absurd.

Merchants pursue profits relentlessly, employing every means possible. Shen Xiling seized the opportunity earlier than others, naturally benefiting. The large fabric shops’ actions stemmed purely from envy, trying to drag others down when they couldn’t rise themselves.

Guilds, a relatively recent phenomenon over the past few decades, emerged with the flourishing commerce, aiming to mediate disputes, purify industry ethics, and protect industry interests.

While it sounded noble, human nature ensured intrigue and corruption persisted. Various guilds in Jiangnan were manipulated by large estates, merely changing appearances to compete for profits. The Weaving Guild, swayed by large fabric shops’ complaints and seeking favor from influential backers, ordered Shen Xiling and her protected small fabric shops to raise prices, acting tyrannically.

Though gentle and kind, Shen Xiling wasn’t a pushover. How could she comply blindly? There were always principles of fairness. She conducted business properly; everyone should compete based on ability. Asking her to raise prices and forfeit profits was unacceptable.

Unexpectedly, the Weaving Guild acted excessively. Today, Song Haotang’s sudden visit was due to one of Shen Xiling’s allied small fabric shops being vandalized. The entire shop was in chaos, with the owner sitting on the street wailing, intent on hanging himself.

Upon hearing this, Shen Xiling frowned and first asked, “Did they only smash the shop, or did they hurt anyone?”

Song Haotang wiped his sweaty forehead and replied, “This time, they only smashed the shop, but they left threats, saying if they don’t learn the rules, next time won’t be so easy.”

Relieved no one was injured, Shen Xiling’s expression darkened nonetheless.

She was indeed different from her younger self. Once quiet and meek, enduring bullying silently, she now had a temper. Likely influenced by Qi Ying’s demeanor, her stern expression subtly pressured those around her.

Everyone remained silent. After a brief contemplation, Shen Xiling rose and headed towards the door, saying, “Let’s go see.”

The vandalized small fabric shop was on the right bank of the Qinhuai River, managed by a Mr. Feng.

When Shen Xiling was young, to avoid disdain, she let Liu Zi handle most business negotiations. As she grew older, she gradually took charge herself. She had met Mr. Feng once during initial contacts, but later, Song Haotang handled specifics, so she hadn’t seen him again.

Unimaginably, this second meeting was tumultuous: Mr. Feng, seven feet tall and over forty, sat crying like a child at his shop’s entrance, drawing frequent glances and murmurs from passersby on Jiankang’s streets.

Shen Xiling’s carriage stopped before his fabric shop. She first peeked out the window, seeing the shop utterly wrecked. Not only were fabrics torn and scattered everywhere, but even wooden racks inside were smashed, leaving a chaotic mess.

Though only three years into commerce, Shen Xiling understood its hardships. Small shopkeepers struggled more. Having poured countless efforts into her business, she would be heartbroken if her shop were vandalized like this. By empathizing, she naturally understood Mr. Feng’s distress.

Unable to sit still, she hurriedly stepped out of the carriage with Shui Pei’s assistance. Song Haotang and Liu Zi had already alighted from another carriage, helping Mr. Feng off the ground.

Seeing him crying with bruises on his face, Shen Xiling felt even worse, urging him inside to calm down.

However, Mr. Feng was likely exhausted and deafened, unresponsive to Shen Xiling’s consoling. Realizing further talk was futile, she signaled Song Haotang and Liu Zi, who understood and escorted Mr. Feng indoors. Shen Xiling followed, with Shui Pei and Feng Chang closing the shop’s door behind her.

Mr. Feng took a while to regain composure.

Opening his eyes, he first saw the shop’s devastation, then recognized Shen Xiling, bursting into tears again. Sobbing, he pleaded, “Miss Fang… Miss Fang, you must stand up for me…”

Emotionally overwhelmed, Shen Xiling feared for his safety, quickly instructing Shui Pei and Feng Chang to bring him water. Liu Zi, perceptive, realized he might not drink it, forcibly administered the water, calming him somewhat.

Seeing him settle, Shen Xiling gently consoled, “Mr. Feng, please rest assured. I made agreements with everyone; I won’t evade responsibility. The guild’s actions are tyrannical, akin to bandits. Under the emperor’s rule, laws exist. Don’t panic. We are justified and will seek justice.”

No sooner had she finished than the recently calmed Mr. Feng grew agitated again, shaking his head vehemently, asking Shen Xiling, “Under the emperor’s rule? Laws? Justice?”

Three consecutive questions, followed by a bitter laugh, he asked Shen Xiling, “Miss Fang, do you know who controls the Weaving Guild?”

In three years of commerce, though she hadn’t dealt directly with guilds, she had heard of their reputation. Hearing Mr. Feng’s question, she paused, replying, “It’s a collateral branch of the Fu family—Fu Hong.”

Author’s Note: Shen Wenwen, typical of being two-faced depending on whether her husband is present. Husband present: I’m a weak little kitten. Husband absent: A dragon handling affairs and earning money.