Chapter 1: Pleasing to the Eye No Matter How You Look at It

“If you can’t pay five taels of silver for your stall’s residence tax today, then hand over your secret recipe instead!”

The oily shout mingled with the spicy, pungent scent, making one’s eardrums throb.

Su Tang gripped her soup ladle, casting a sidelong glance at the corner of Master Zhao’s mouth, where a gold tooth gleamed.

Behind him, three burly men eyed her copper pot with hungry glares, like hyenas starved for three days.

She’d known setting up her spicy hotpot stall would attract the attention of the local bullies, but she was prepared—

Su Tang lowered her lashes, turned slightly, and called softly toward the tightly closed gate behind her, “Your daughter-in-law is incompetent, Father, forgive me for troubling you.”

Her gentle, delicate voice was as soft and sweet as a spring blossom, so unlike the bold shouts she’d used for hawking these past days.

For a moment, even the air seemed to still.

Then the courtyard door swung open and a tall, burly figure emerged.

His wide eyes bulged, a scruffy beard covered his face, and his hair was tied up haphazardly with a hemp cloth. His rough hands and patched, earth-colored clothes gave him a rugged look. Each step he took seemed to make the whole town tremble. When he spoke, his deep, booming voice carried clear across half the town: “Would Master Zhao kindly repeat that? How much is the residence tax?”

Master Zhao and his men shrank back a few steps, but catching sight of the growing crowd, he straightened up and barked, holding up five thick fingers, “Five taels of silver!”

“Five taels? Even merchants from out of town don’t earn a hundred coins a day, and you want five taels just from my Lu family?” Lu Dashan’s eyes flashed with open menace, and his sudden shout seemed to shake the town to its foundations.

“How was I supposed to know she was from your family? You Lu folks are known for being slow, and yet your son managed to get a wife?” Master Zhao retorted, unflinching.

The crowd thickened, layer upon layer.

Three days ago, when Su Tang’s spicy hotpot stall first opened, she’d already witnessed the townsfolk’s enthusiasm for a spectacle, no less than in her previous life.

Su Tang let go of the ladle, lowering her sleeve to discreetly dab her face, her soft sobs threading through the murmurs of the crowd. People gazed at the young woman who’d worked so hard these days, her beauty now tinged with sorrow, and their hearts softened. Looking at Lu Dashan, who, as always, could do nothing but glare, many couldn’t help but speak up on their behalf.

“The Lu family just married her five days ago—everyone in town knows. How can Master Zhao not?”

“Master Zhao’s got bigger fish to fry than this!”

“With five taels of silver, things change, don’t they?”

“Master Zhao doesn’t want silver, he wants the recipe, ha!”

Voices overlapped in the crowd.

Lu Dashan finally understood. “So you’re targeting me, Lu Dashan! Master Zhao, are you here to rob me, or to kill me?”

“Come on then! I’m right here—if you want, kill me now and save yourself the five taels!”

Lu Dashan stepped up to Master Zhao, breathing hard and red-eyed, like a bull about to charge.

“Careful, sir!” Master Zhao’s three guards hurried to shield him, but even so, faced with Lu Dashan’s hulking form, Master Zhao felt as if he stood before a mountain.

Lu Dashan had run a slaughterhouse in Ping’an Town for twenty years. Sometimes, when the county magistrate needed an executioner, he was called to swing the blade. Killing criminals was no small thing—it gave him an aura that made even passersby shiver when walking past the Lu family’s butcher stall. Now, though he was empty-handed, Master Zhao couldn’t shake the feeling that Lu Dashan was wielding a killer’s blade.

Sweat beaded on Master Zhao’s brow. Gritting his teeth, he forced a smile.

“What are you saying, Lu Dashan? What do you take me for? I truly didn’t know she was your daughter-in-law.”

“We’re all neighbors here, aren’t we? There’s no secret recipe, I never said there was. Five taels is for half a year—this spot is yours for that long. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, Lu Dashan, I wouldn’t give you such a price! It’s a huge favor, a token gift really. Take it or leave it—you won’t get a deal like this again!”

In an instant, Master Zhao’s demeanor changed, smooth and unruffled as ever, his gold tooth shining as warmly as the midday sun.

The onlookers fell silent.

Residence tax was a fixed levy imposed on stall owners in the towns of the Great Qian dynasty, and in Ping’an Town, Master Zhao was the appointed collector. The fee could be daily or monthly, calculated at thirty parts per hundred. On a good day, most merchants earned about two taels, so three months of residence tax came to around five taels—half a year, even counting snowy or windy days, was a bargain.

It was a bargain many would have liked to claim themselves.

“Is that true?” Lu Dashan hesitated.

“Or call me a liar,” Master Zhao scoffed, flicking his sleeve and turning to leave.

He hadn’t gone two steps when a gentle voice called out, “Please, Master Zhao, wait.”

Su Tang, who had been sobbing quietly, now raised her head. Her lovely face was streaked with tears, but her reddened eyes shone with a familiar resilience.

“Does Master Zhao keep his word?” she asked.

Master Zhao’s mouth twisted in annoyance.

Keep his word? As if!

But with Lu Dashan eyeing him, and the whole town watching, what could he say?

“So, do you have the silver?” Master Zhao sneered, flashing his gold tooth.

The young wife of the Lu family, biting her lip and looking as though it pained her deeply, drew a small jade pendant from her purse.

It was not large, but under the sun it glowed with a pure, translucent light.

Master Zhao’s pupils shrank.

That pendant was worth far more than five taels—perhaps fifty, or even more.

“Will this suffice?” she asked.

“It will,” he replied instantly.

All eyes turned to the jade pendant.

Most didn’t know its true value, but seeing Master Zhao’s reaction, they realized it was something precious.

Lu Dashan saw as well and scratched his head, his deep voice rumbling, “I still have money here.”

“We mustn’t trouble Father-in-law any further,” Su Tang answered meekly, lowering her head. Even in plain homespun, she had a grace that pleased the eye.

Master Zhao found her even more pleasing.

Especially as she walked over to hand him the jade pendant—he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“I’m only accepting it for Old Lu’s sake,” he said, waving away his guards and reaching out with feigned nonchalance to receive the cool, smooth weight of the pendant in his palm. “Who’s to say if it’s valuable or not? Sometimes a few taels, sometimes a few coins, it all depends on what pleases the heart.”

…This pendant was worth a fortune. He’d play with it for a few days, then present it to the county magistrate—perhaps he’d get something even better in exchange.

Just as he thought this, the pendant paused before his eyes—then withdrew.

What?

[Residence tax: A levy imposed by the Great Qian dynasty on merchants with fixed places of business, including street stalls.]