“Mm…” Lou Jing’s actions woke Xiao Chengjun up, and he opened his eyes blearily.
“Sleep, it’s alright,” Lou Jing said, kissing him on the lips. He reached out to pat Xiao Chengjun’s back soothingly.
In Xiao Chengjun’s dreams, Lou Jing had returned, and in his half-awake state, he couldn’t tell whether the Lou Jing in front of him was real or just a fantasy. He half-opened his eyes before closing them again. The warmth next to his body was very cosy, and he couldn’t help snuggling closer to it. His soft, silky underclothes felt just a little cold as they brushed against his body.
That slight coldness felt like melting snow, and it brought him to the great Northern lands in his dreams. Xiao Chengjun had never been to the North, but he’d heard Lou Jing talk about it before. There were endless deserts that one could gallop in on horseback, and he thought that if one day, he and Lou Jing could ride together from Jiangnan all the way to the Great Desert in the North, his life would not have been wasted. Xiao Chengjun smiled faintly to himself in his sleep. He was enjoying the dream so much that he didn’t want to wake up any more.
There were still a few days left to the New Year. Nothing particularly important was raised in the Imperial Court, but all the trailing ends of matters already raised had to be tied up neatly. The Chunde Emperor had never been one to be hardworking, but even he had no choice but to coop himself up in the Imperial Study with the high officials of the Shangshu and Zhongshu’s office from the first light of dawn to the time the moon was high in the sky. The morning Court sessions were also reduced to once every three days to allow the officials to get everything in order before the New Year.
Today was the twenty-second day of the twelfth lunar month, and there was no need to attend Court. An Shun didn’t wake Xiao Chengjun up as such, and allowed his master to sleep in until the sunlight started peeking over the horizon. The servants didn’t dare to start cleaning the residence near Xiao Chengjun’s rooms until he woke up for fear of disturbing his sweet dreams.
Xiao Chengjun slowly opened his eyes. In winter, coal braziers were used to warm the room, and there were always some ashes flying around the room at night, so the bedcurtains were always let down fully. He squinted, letting his eyes adjusting to the low light, then suddenly opened his eyes wide. He realised that he wasn’t sleeping on his pillow, but on someone’s solid-feeling arm!
It wasn’t a dream! Xiao Chengjun looked at the flawless face in front of him, and suddenly understood how people felt when they unexpectedly found a gold ingot lying on the floor. His face broke into a wide smile. He originally thought that Lou Jing would only be back the next day, and that he’d have to spend one more lonely day in this residence…
Min Wang Dianxia slowly stretched out his hand to gently stroke the dark circles beneath Lou Jing’s eyes. The long, hard journey in icy winds and snow had really worn Lou Jing out, so much so that he didn’t wake even when Xiao Chengjun touched the sensitive skin under his eyes. Xiao Chengjun sighed gently, feeling his heart ache a little. He leaned over and planted a light kiss on Lou Jing’s lips.
Thin-lipped people indeed had very “thin” emotions as well. Because they had so little of it, there was only enough love to give to one person. No one else could enter his heart. Xiao Chengjun’s heart felt indescribably full as he slowly traced the graceful lines of those thin lips with his own.
Lou Jing was awoken by that tingly sensation, but he didn’t open his eyes, and simply pressed the back of Xiao Chengjun’s head with his hand, deepening that stolen kiss.
“Mmph!” Xiao Chengjun first got a shock. When he calmed down, he started to kiss Lou Jing back in earnest.
Their tongues intertwined lovingly. It was only a simple kiss, but it was more passionate even than their lovemaking; without words, just this touch alone confirmed how much they had missed each other over the last few days.
Both of them were panting slightly after that long kiss. Lou Jing touched his forehead to Xiao Chengjun’s brows and nuzzled him gently. “Did you miss me?” he asked.
“How did you get back so quickly?” Xiao Chengjun said, asking a question of his own instead of answering.
“It’s freezing outside, and there’s nowhere warmer than Dianxia’s bed,” Lou Jing said, putting on an innocent, helpless look. “I couldn’t sleep in any other bed, so I had no choice but to come back earlier.”
Xiao Chengjun couldn’t help pressing his lips together into a slight smile when he heard this. The words were pleasing to hear, but he couldn’t let Lou Jing continue, or he would probably say something even more embarrassing next. With this thought, Min Wang Dianxia took his head off Lou Jing’s arm and started talking about other things. “Have you exchanged all the warehouse notes?” he asked.
When Lou Jing bought the warehouse notes, he had bought them at a rate of one qian of silver per two warehouse notes. This was only twenty percent of the official exchange rate. Later, when he went to Jinzhou to exchange the notes for salt, he would be using the official exchange rate. Doing this sort of trade was not a simple matter.
“I’ve exchanged them all,” Lou Jing said. He knew that his Dianxia was easily embarrassed, and so decided to stop before he went too far. He snuggled next to Xiao Chengjun, putting his head on the same pillow. “One warehouse note for one yin of salt. It can’t be changed.”
This was stipulated by law. The Salt Commission officials could not lower the price unilaterally, and to them, it didn’t matter who the salt was given to; one merchant was much like another. The person they decided to give the salt to in the end would usually be someone who gave them the most generous bribe, or someone they couldn’t offend. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. The Lou family’s influence in Jinzhou was unparalleled, and Lou Jing had given a very handsome gift as well. The Salt Commissioner had been very pleased, and had readily allowed him to exchange the three hundred over thousand warehouse notes Lou Jing had bought with salt. Lou Jing had only spent a few tens of thousands of silver taels on these warehouse notes.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“If you exchanged them all, then isn’t Jinzhou’s salt all spoken for now?” Xiao Chengjun asked, frowning slightly. This sort of profitable flip would be closely watched, and the ones in the salt trade were all powerful and influential people. Lou Jing’s actions might attract the wrong sort of attention and bring disaster upon himself.
“No way,” Lou Jing said, smiling breezily. He curled up slightly and buried his face in Min Wang Dianxia’s chest. “That Jinzhou Salt Commissioner currently manages the Northwestern Salt Commission. He doesn’t just have oversight of the salt warehouse in Jinyang – he has many of them under his control. There’s way more than three hundred thousand yin of salt in them.”
However, since Lou Jing said that it would be fine, then he wouldn’t think about it any more.
No one else knew that Lou Jing had returned to the Capital ahead of schedule, so he could slack off during this time. His businesses and the barracks wouldn’t miss him, and coincidentally, Xiao Chengjun also did not need to attend Court, so the two of them snuggled cosily in bed as they chatted.
“I used to have snowball fights with my Grandpa, and he always aimed his snowballs at my butt. He got my backside every single time, and he used a lot of force, so I always fell flat on my face after getting hit,” Lou Jing said, pouting a little as he thought about the huge snowballs that his grandfather used to throw at him. They were as big as dinner plates, and he still felt some lingering fear as he thought about them.
“Hahaha!” Xiao Chengjun couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Wasn’t he afraid he would injure you?”
“Of course not,” Lou Jing harrumphed derisively. “I didn’t manage to hit him with any of my snowballs, so I stuffed snow down his collar when he wasn’t paying attention. I made sure that the snow wasn’t packed hard either – it was loose snow, so that you couldn’t just pull it out like you would a snowball. That way, it would melt inside his clothes.” Lou Jing grinned mischievously.
“My Imperial Grandfather also took me to watch the snow falling when he was around,” Xiao Chengjun said, his eyes curving into smiling half-moons as he listened to Lou Jing. He recalled memories of his own childhood. “At that time, my Imperial Grandfather came to test me on my homework. It just so happened that I’d studied all night the day before, and I couldn’t concentrate. My Imperial Grandfather didn’t punish me, and instead gave me a day off and brought me to the Imperial Gardens to look at snow.”
Xiao Chengjun could still remember the Ruizong Emperor’s words clearly. Look at the snow collected on this plum blossom tree. The snow is three fingers thick. If the same amount of snow had fallen as hailstones in the night, the branches would have broken, but because the snow fell softly and slowly, the branches were able to withstand it. That is the secret to building something that will endure through the ages…
The world outside was cold, but the room was warm and cosy. The two cuddled in bed were of one heart and mind, and it didn’t matter that they were only chatting about insignificant things; they felt happy and content even so.
Xiao Chengjun and Lou Jing lazed around in the residence and ate their meal after noontime. The weather was a little warmer now that the sun was out, and they started playing with snow in the yard.
Lou Jing made two large snowballs, then shaped them into two fat little snow rabbits with long ears. “My mother used to steam little buns shaped like rabbits for me during the New Year. It had a sweet milk filling, and it was really delicious,” he said.
Xiao Chengjun looked at the round little rabbits and couldn’t help smiling slightly. “I’ll get the chefs in my residence to steam some for you this year,” he said. His chefs all used to work in the Imperial kitchen, and they knew how to make all sorts of snacks and desserts. A steamed bun would be a piece of cake for them.
“Then I’ll spend New Year’s here, and not go back to my place,” Lou Jing said, his eyes lighting up on hearing this.
The next day, Lou Jing went to the Minister of the Left’s mansion.
Actually, as a member of the Zanying nobility, Lou Jing ordinarily would not have too many interactions with the civil officials. However, the Lou family and the Zhao family had been friends for many years because the Zhao family’s ancestral home was in Yuezhou, and they were involved in the official salt trade there. Lou Jing’s grandfather had partnered with the Zhao family for this purpose, and he had never changed who he worked with.
Lou Jing and Zhao Xi were also childhood friends because of this relationship between their families.
Jiangnan was a region that produced salt, and as such, many people stored grain in exchange for warehouse notes there. However, there were always more warehouse notes than there was salt. The Zhao family had been government officials for many generations, and they naturally had their ways of getting their hands on salt from other prefectures. They were a very famous family in the Jiangnan region.
Zhao Xi was silent for a while as he looked at the account books that Lou Jing brought with him. “You’ve made it big this time,” he finally said.
To put it bluntly, the salt trade was essentially about going to official warehouses with official documents and exchanging these documents for salt. Without the official documents, you were basically trafficking salt illegally, and this was a serious crime that could land you an appointment with the executioner.
One yin of salt was equivalent to four hundred jin. Going by the official exchange rate for warehouse notes, one yin of salt cost half a tael of silver. However, once the salt was sold in the shops, the same four hundred jin of salt would be able to sell for ten taels of silver. He would be making a two hundred percent profit.
As such, once the salt left the government’s warehouses, each yin of salt would not be sold merely at half a tael of silver. It was a business that one would be hard pressed not to make a profit from. On top of that, Lou Jing had only spent one qian of silver on each yin of salt!
Zhao Xi’s Third Uncle was in charge of running the family’s business in the Capital, and was the one Lou Jing always discussed business matters with. As such, Lou Jing ignored Zhao Xi, and focused his attention on the Third Uncle. “Uncle, how long before I can convert it?” he asked.
Third Uncle Zhao ruminated for a while. When Lou Jing had spoken to him about this matter earlier, he had thought that it would be pretty good if this little stripling managed to get thirty thousand yin of salt; he had never expected that Lou Jing would be able to secure three hundred thousand yin. “The merchants in the Capital alone will not be able to take in this much salt. You have to send some to Yuezhou, so you won’t see your returns before the New Year. At earliest, you’ll get it in February,” he said.
There were many more merchants selling salt in Jiangnan than in the Capital, and there were also many more buyers of salt there. It was much easier to sell it there than in the Capital.
Lou Jing nodded. “I’m fine so long as I get it before the middle of the second month,” he said.
“Then let’s sell it at the price we discussed previously. I know it takes quite a bit of effort to transport it to Jinzhou, but if you set too high a price, the salt won’t sell,” Third Uncle Zhao said, nodding slightly and looking a little awkward.
“Two taels for half a yin isn’t low. I am already very grateful that you were able to give me this price,” Lou Jing said, smiling sincerely.
Third Uncle Zhao gave Lou Jing a long look, and thought in his heart that this Anguo Gong Shizi really was brought up by the old Anguo Gong. He did things efficiently, was very decisive, spoke well, and was trustworthy. Inwardly, he couldn’t help nodding to himself in approval. He took out a piece of paper and wrote out the contract between them.
Lou Jing didn’t refuse the written confirmation. He left his salt in Third Uncle Zhao’s care, then kept the contract and the deposit money.
“When the ones in the Capital have been sold, I’ll get people to send the profits to Zhuque Hall,” Third Uncle Zhao said, clasping his fists politely toward Lou Jing as he got up to leave.
When Zhao Xi saw that his Third Uncle was leaving, he sidled over to Lou Jing. “I say, now that you’ve gotten a windfall, should I get some share in it?” he grinned.
Lou Jing couldn’t help chuckling as he looked at Zhao Xi’s cunning and yet innocent expression. The Zhao family didn’t mix government matters with their family business; the ones who were good at their studies went to become Court officials, and those who weren’t managed the family’s business. As such, the academically gifted Zhao Xi was rarely ever involved in this sort of trading. “When you place first in the examinations again, I’ll give you something good,” he promised.
On the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month, the Fourth Prince’s Consort gave birth to a pair of dragon-phoenix twins, and the Emperor was elated. He threw a great celebratory banquet for all his officials two days later, on the twenty-eighth day of the month.
The Court officials had never expected that the Fourth Prince, who had just gotten married last year, would produce Imperial descendants so soon, and that the descendants would be the most auspicious dragon-phoenix twins, at that. The officials who were originally thinking of pledging their loyalties to the Third Prince were somewhat swayed by this development.
After all, producing Imperial descendants was one of the important duties that an Emperor or a Crown Prince had to perform. One of the reasons Xiao Chengjun’s position as the Crown Prince had previously been shaky was because he didn’t have any children.
Now that the Fourth Prince had both a boy and a girl, and the Third Prince didn’t have any children, it could be said that he had an edge over the Third Prince. The Third Prince Xiao Chengduo had lost his chance to take the lead on this front.
When the Emperor threw a great banquet, the Emperor’s honour guard had to be present. Lou Jing, who had originally thought that he would only need to get busy around the thirtieth of the month, suddenly found himself swamped with work. He had to make arrangements for the honour guard and also deal with other logistics for the banquet. He was so busy that he couldn’t go home, and had to spend two nights in the palace.
[At night, in the Linde Palace on the the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month]
The Chunde Emperor sat on the golden dragon throne on the dais, flanked immediately on his left and right by the Left and Right Commander-Generals of the Yulin Troops respectively. Twenty-four of the Troops formed the rest of his honour guard.
Grandiose music accented with bells and drums rang out in the large hall. The hall was divided into two sections on the left and right, with a long empty space in the middle from the main entrance all the way to the dais on which the Emperor was seated. Ministers were seated behind individual low tables on both sides of the hall, feasting on excellent food and fine wine.
Xiao Chengjun was a Qinwang and also the eldest Imperial Prince, so he sat right at the front as usual. The other two princes were sitting in order of their ages – the Third Prince sat one seat down from Xiao Chengjun, and the Fourth Prince sat one seat down from the Third Prince.
“Eldest Imperial Brother, I haven’t seen you go out much of late,” the Third Prince Xiao Chengduo said. Dancing girls started performing, and the Third Prince gave them a cursory glance, looking bored. “A few days ago, I obtained four dancing girls from the Western Regions, and I was thinking of making a gift of them to you.”
Xiao Chengjun’s expression didn’t change. He brought his winecup to his lips and slowly sipped at the wine. His eyes drifted over to the person standing to the left of the throne.
That person was standing tall and confident with a sword at his hip, as if he could withstand the harshest winds and the stormiest seas. It was the Left Commander-General of the Yulin Troops, Lou Jing.
Lou Jing felt Min Wang’s gaze on him, and he winked surreptitiously at him. The rest of his face remained serious and solemn, like a beautiful carved jade statue.
Xiao Chengjun reined in his laughter with great difficulty, then replied to the Third Prince in a languid manner. “I’ve never been fond of that sort of thing. On the other hand, you should really get yourself a legitimate Consort.”
The Third Prince had only taken a Side Consort and a concubine thus far, because his mother, Chen Guifei was very picky about the women allowed to marry him. Of course, anyone with eyes could see that Chen Guifei was lusting after the position of Crown Prince for her son, and was keeping that position open for the male wife that the Third Prince would eventually have to marry if he became Crown Prince. However, these two days, Chen Guifei had also become very anxious because of the dragon-phoenix twins the Fourth Prince had produced.
Xiao Chengduo nearly choked, and his eyes flashed in a sinister manner as he glanced at the Fourth Prince next to him out of the corner of his eye. However, he put on a smile as he replied to Xiao Chengjun. “No hurry. You haven’t got yourself a legitimate Consort either, have you?” he said.
As he said this, he couldn’t help looking up at the former Crown Prince Consort standing next to the throne. When his gaze fell on Lou Jing, he suddenly found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Lou Jing had always been a military man, but it wasn’t obvious usually, when he was wearing ordinary robes. He just looked like a handsome young gongzi with beauty that could rival fine jade then. However, once he put on his armour, his intimidating aura came to the fore, as if he were a gleaming treasure sword that had just been unsheathed, stunning anyone who looked at it with its dangerous allure. It went without saying that the ceremonial armour the Yulin Troops wore as the Emperor’s honour guard was elaborate and exquisitely made, and when Lou Jing wore it, it perfectly complemented his dashing good looks.
As the Third Prince looked covetously at Lou Jing, a sudden thought flashed through his mind. If he became the Crown Prince, he could marry a male wife. Out of all the children of the noble families in the Capital, there wasn’t a single one who could hold a candle to Lou Jing’s good looks!
The author has something to say:
I’m not sure if you guys are clear on how the salt trade works, but basically, it’s like this:
Grain → Warehouse notes → Yins of salt → Salt
The official exchange rate is: 1 warehouse note = 1 yin of salt = 0.5 silver
Lou Jing used 0.1 silver → 1 warehouse note → 1 yin of salt → 2.5 silver.
The Zhao family sold the salt to salt merchants at a price higher than 2.5 silver. These salt merchants then sold the salt to retail customers at 10 silver.