Chapter Seven: Spring Serenity Residence

When Jiang Lan entered, his younger sister Jiang Si was seated at a black writing desk, several thick account books piled high before her. Remembering what Chun Ming had just said, he frowned slightly—so this girl had kept it buried in her heart all along, never speaking of it. How could her face look even colder? Who did she take after? Then he recalled her childhood, losing her mother early, her only father a gambler—her situation had never been much better than his own.

“Brother,” Jiang Si said in surprise. This elder brother of hers, who had always kept his distance for three hundred years, had actually come to her courtyard. Yet her expression remained as cold as ever.

Jiang Lan didn’t stand on ceremony. He sat down nearby, took the teacup the maid handed him, sipped once, and set it aside. The pastries, however, caught his attention—he ate several in a row.

Jiang Si was indeed busy; she glanced up and continued her work. Jiang Lan was in no hurry. Once he finished the pastries, he wandered about the room.

“Did you need something, brother?”

Once she had finished the urgent matter at hand, Jiang Si instructed the housemaid to take it away, then walked over to Jiang Lan. She set down the Ru kiln porcelain in her hand. “It’s nothing. I just heard you wanted to go into trade, so I came to ask.”

Jiang Si’s eyes dimmed. “Are you here to stop me as well?”

Leaning against a rack, arms folded, Jiang Lan studied Jiang Si. “Would you listen if I tried?”

“Not at all,” Jiang Si replied without a second thought.

Jiang Lan was a bit embarrassed. Clearly, he didn’t command the authority of a true elder brother. “I’m not here to persuade you otherwise.”

“Oh?” Jiang Si was surprised. She had expected her cousin to be as concerned about family reputation as the rest of the household. So this is how he felt…

“Do as you wish from now on. You have your brother’s support.”

Jiang Si was unaccustomed to someone touching the top of her head; she stepped back to avoid his hand. “Brother, you really have changed.”

Jiang Lan’s smile grew. “Not at all. I just gained a little perspective after facing life and death.”

Yet, seeing the look in Jiang Si’s eyes, he knew she didn’t believe him. He put away his smile. “I’ll handle the matter of the Minister of Justice’s third son.”

“And how will you do that? That man may not hold office, but his father is Minister of Personnel; his mother, a direct daughter of the prestigious Cui family of Qinghe; his friends, all high-ranking nobles. He’s set his sights on my mother’s two shops on Danque Street and is scheming to get them. What can you do?”

Jiang Lan was at a loss for words; he had only learned of this recently and hadn’t yet thought of a solution.

“It’s not that I’m unwilling to give up those shops to avoid bringing trouble to the family, but they’re the only profitable ones left. Rather than cause you trouble, it might be better to let them go.”

Jiang Lan looked at Jiang Si, who had returned to her seat, and was startled.

He had thought that Jiang Si disliked her incompetent cousin, but now he saw she was simply not good at expressing herself.

“Don’t agree to anything yet. Give me three days.”

Shortly after Jiang Lan left, Jiang Si withdrew her gaze and called for Chun Ming. “Go and check whether the accounts office has been embezzling my brother’s silver.”

Chun Ming was taken aback. “Miss, do you think the young master is helping you because he needs money?”

Jiang Si shook her head. “It’s not that. Aunt was the youngest and favorite daughter of the Duke of England; her dowry was the envy of all Jiankang. Even if brother holds no title, he’ll never want for food or drink.”

“Then why do you want me to look into it?”

Jiang Si’s eyes fell on the marked accounts before her. “No matter how difficult things get, our Jiang family would never touch Aunt’s dowry.”

“Then why use your mother’s?” Chun Ming pouted, a little indignant.

Without looking up, Jiang Si answered, “Because my mother was different.”

With a sigh, Chun Ming retreated, wiping her tears as soon as she stepped outside.

Her mistress’s mother was the daughter of an official of the fifth rank, but born of a concubine and unloved. She had no status at home and was often bullied by her stepmother and elder sister. It was thought that marrying into a ducal household would bring happiness, but after only a few years of good days, she died in childbirth.

Though her mistress was the legitimate daughter of the Duke’s house, she was not born of the main wife, nor did she have a powerful maternal family. The Empress Dowager, though she favored her, did not love her as she did the young master. Life was not easy for her mistress.

Chun Ming hoped the young master could pull himself together—then her mistress’s life might improve a little. Though the young master was odd, he always treated her mistress well. Whenever the Empress Dowager bestowed gifts upon the family, she would let her mistress choose first.

Though timid and meek, whenever her mistress was bullied by the sons of great families or noble daughters, the young master would always stand up for her. Even if the opponent was a prince or a minister’s son, the young master would inevitably get beaten up.

But afterward, those who bullied her mistress would suffer even harsher punishment from their families—worse than what the young master endured. After all, he was the Empress Dowager’s favorite nephew; even the princes and princesses in the palace could not compare.

Now, only the Emperor’s favor could rival it. All of Jiankang knew: bullying the young master was tantamount to bullying her mistress. But as soon as something befell the young master, many people could not restrain themselves and began secretly encroaching on the Jiang family’s assets.

The young master’s aunt’s dowry was well protected by the Duke’s house, but her mistress’s mother’s possessions had no such safeguard.

After returning to his courtyard, Jiang Lan shouted with delight, “Xi Chi! Xi Chi!”

Xi Chi, in the middle of changing clothes, heard the call, quickly dried his hands, and ran out. Though he hurried, his robes barely fluttered.

“Young master.”

Jiang Lan poked at him excitedly. “Bring out all the silver you have, put on men’s clothing, and come wander the city with me.”

Though Xi Chi found it odd, he moved with practiced efficiency.

Jiang Lan, meanwhile, changed into a flamboyantly embroidered gold-threaded robe, paired with golden boots. A white jade hairpin bound his dark hair. Leaning lazily against the doorframe, his air was like that of an immortal descended to earth—if only he didn’t have such an unremarkable face.

“Well? Am I not a fine young gentleman now?”

Xi Chi glanced at him. “Were you not one before, young master?”

“…”

The conversation left Jiang Lan a little embarrassed even after boarding the carriage.

“Young master, where are we going?”

Jiang Lan didn’t answer. He drew aside the curtain and gazed at the busy midday street, alive with carts, horses, and people.

“Where is Jiankang’s busiest place?”

“Spring Harmony Pavilion.”

Jiang Lan tapped his fingers on the window. “Very well, let’s go there.”

Looking at the row of more than a dozen shops lining the expensive Danque Street, the Spring Harmony Pavilion was indeed grand—five stories tall, spanning two streets, and astonishingly spacious inside.

Jiang Lan took out the folding fan he’d prepared, flicked it open, and swaggered inside. Before he could even enter, he was stopped.

“Young master, you look unfamiliar. Forgive my poor eyesight, but you are…?”

Before Jiang Lan could speak, Xi Chi barked, “Are you blind? This is the heir of the Duke of Weiguo!”

The burly doorman immediately bowed his head in apology. “Ah, so it’s the young heir! Forgive me—I did not recognize greatness. But is it not said that you were recovering at home?”

Jiang Lan was annoyed but reasoned that any establishment of this scale must have powerful backers. He drew out his family’s jade token from his sleeve.

“Is this proof enough?”

The doorman, clearly no ordinary muscle, recognized the token at once. “No offense, young master. Please, come in.”

Jiang Lan nodded slightly, fanned himself, and strode inside.

As soon as they entered, Xi Chi explained, “Spring Harmony Pavilion belongs to Prince Anping. It’s a music and tea house on the surface, but beneath it lies a bank and gambling den.”

Jiang Lan didn’t much care. The wealthy always sought powerful connections, and the powerful always looked for ways to make money. A gambling den and a bank were hardly surprising.

After touring all five floors, Jiang Lan was disappointed. Though each step revealed a new scene and every item was exquisite—never ostentatious but crafted with care—nothing truly captivated him. The supposed bustle was nowhere to be found; the building was nearly empty, with only a few scattered guests. Upon closer inspection, it was clear their interests lay elsewhere.

“This is your idea of lively?”