Chapter 59 Helping Out, No Money Wanted

The capital was in absolute chaos.

The spectacle of whole-court accusations against Ye was staged anew every single day. Ye Tianxiang's political enemies had added numerous further charges to his dossier. Someone had even composed a fierce polemic, biting in its satire of Ye Tianxiang.

The censors were long since fed up; the mere sight of Ye Tianxiang made their blood boil. The old fox spent his days at the Censorate doing little more than practicing shadowboxing and studying culinary recipes. He showed not the slightest hint of remorse for the crimes he had committed.

In response, the supervisory censors jointly submitted a memorial to the imperial court declaring that Ye Tianxiang's crimes were heinous and petitioning the emperor to mete out severe punishment.

Yet Ye Tianxiang faced all this with a serene smile, casually remarking, "This old man is no longer the Vice Minister of Revenue. For a pack of fourth-rank censors to lock horns with a commoner like me... do you not find it utterly humiliating?"

A single sentence that whipped up monstrous waves.

And yet, strangely enough, no matter how the wheel of successive interrogations turned, not a single person ever broached the subject of having the emperor put Ye Tianxiang to death; they only demanded severe punishment.

The emperor remained lukewarm and unhurried about the matter. Regardless of how the officials clamored, he had only one standard response: "Everything shall await the return of Ye Xiren, after which a joint tribunal of the Three Judicial Offices will make a final judgment."

Seeing that all their punches seemed to land on soft cotton, these lords of the capital officialdom gradually grew numb.

Eventually, someone petitioned the Grand Secretariat to urge Ye Xiren to return to the capital as soon as possible.

The three elders of the Grand Secretariat treated the request with utter disdain. Whether Ye Xiren came back or not made not a damn bit of difference. None of you bastards bothered to inquire whose house Ye Xiren was currently staying at, did you?

Even so, the facade of official procedure had to be maintained. Around the middle of the month, the Grand Secretariat issued eight consecutive official dispatches urging Ye Xiren to return to the capital posthaste.

Down in Jinling, at the docks.

Crate after crate of books was being loaded onto a vessel.

Led by Xu Yougong, more than twenty officials of various ranks from the Jinling prefectural yamen were there to see Ye Xiren off. The veteran ward chief had even prepared two large crates of Jinling local specialties for Ye Xiren to take back to the capital.

Ye Xiu carefully inspected everything to ensure nothing had been left behind before stepping back down from the gangplank. He produced a leather pouch and handed it directly to Ye Xiren. "Esteemed teacher, please accept this. Use just a tiny pinch whenever you cook."

Ye Xiren nodded and accepted the pouch.

"No, this won't do at all." Realizing that only four yamen runners were assigned as an escort, Ye Xiu knew this was completely unacceptable. He immediately bundled Zhao Yide onto the ship as well, handing him five hundred taels of silver with strict instructions to take good care of Ye Xiren along the journey and ensure his safe delivery to the capital.

Ye Xiren originally intended to refuse, but unable to withstand Ye Xiu's persistence, he could only reluctantly agree.

"Wuji, you are the one I worry about the most," Ye Xiren said, offering parting advice. "This year is unlike previous ones; you must redouble your efforts. This old man will wait for you in the capital."

"Understood," Ye Wuji nodded heavily. "Rest assured, teacher, we shall meet in the capital."

"Alright, all of you head back now." Ye Xiren boarded the ship and waved farewell to the crowd.

Watching the vessel drift further and further away, Ye Wuji felt his eyes begin to sting.

Turning his head slightly, he covertly wiped the corners of his eyes. To say he wasn't sad would be a blatant lie.

"Father, are you feeling sad?" Ye Xiu teased.

"The wind just got something in my eye," Ye Wuji replied with stubborn pride. "Well... I've taken a fancy to that boat over there, too."

"Once you pass the provincial examination, you can buy whatever you want!"

"You said it yourself, no taking backs."

Everyone returned to their respective homes to tend to their respective affairs.

Ye Wuji, his son, and Li Weishan returned to the tavern.

Business was overwhelmingly, phenomenally brisk.

For three consecutive days running, Dong Rushi came to the tavern to perform as a resident singer without a single day of delay.

There had been plenty of malicious gossip circulating outside, all of it detrimental to Dong Rushi's reputation. Even the owner of the pleasure boat was frantic; cultivating a top courtesan took at least a decade. He had poured all his resources into building up Dong Rushi's public profile, and if she kept singing at a tavern, he would suffer massive financial losses.

Yet the moment Ye Wuji's masterpiece, *Cleansing Peace Verse*, burst upon the scene—propelled by the deliberate momentum whipped up by Shen Wanshan and the others—the entire direction of the wind shifted.

Riding the crest of this public opinion storm, Dong Rushi also released her latest solo piece: *Rain Bells, Cold Cicadas Mourn*.

It was precisely because of these two lyrical works that Dong Rushi's market value skyrocketed, leaping instantly to become the number one star in Jinling.

The pleasure boat owner was completely dumbfounded; it was his first time encountering such a phenomenon. He simply threw his hands up and let it go—she could go wherever she pleased, so long as it didn't hurt the pleasure boat's core business.

The one thing that comforted him was knowing that Dong Rushi would only linger at the tavern for three days.

Those three days were also the critical opening period for the establishment, and Ye Xiu was genuinely, deeply grateful to Dong Rushi.

The two of them sat down inside the Water Dragon Chant private room, where Ye Xiu brewed a pot of tea. "Miss Dong, please, take a seat."

"Young Master, I may not be able to come to the Cheap Pavilion quite as often in the near future," Dong Rushi paused, adding, "but whenever things are quiet aboard the pleasure boat, I will carve out time to visit."

Through several days of interaction, Ye Xiu discovered that Dong Rushi possessed a genuinely cheerful personality beneath her surface. She had never once put on the airs of a Qinhuai celebrity. She even chatted quite congenially with the tavern's hired help.

The only thing that ever seemed to sadden Dong Rushi was Ye Wuji.

Because Ye Wuji had to attend the Jinling Academy every day, the number of times he could visit the tavern was rather limited. Their encounters were often fleeting, hurried glances.

"Three days is quite enough." Ye Xiu drew a sheet of letter paper from his sleeve. "This is a new lyric my father recently composed. Miss Dong, please keep it as a memento."

Dong Rushi was slightly startled before the corners of her mouth curved upward in a gentle smile, instantly grasping Ye Xiu's intent.

"Thank you, Young Master." Dong Rushi offered a slight, graceful curtsy and took her leave of the tavern.

Qi Santai hurried over shortly after.

Clutching the ledger to his chest, he wore a foolish, beaming grin.

The money currently registered on the balance sheets completely exceeded their projections.

High revenues naturally meant high expenditures on ingredients. The umami powder was merely an auxiliary; the most crucial factor was the absolute freshness of the ingredients.

Qi Santai made a rough calculation: stripping away all operating costs, the net profit margin was roughly sixty percent.

In other words, for every hundred taels of silver sold, they netted sixty taels of pure profit.

Hearing this, Ye Xiu couldn't help but look smug.

Factor in white sugar, high-proof spirits... weren't these little lives of theirs finally starting to flourish?

The next step would be waiting for the lifting of the maritime ban; the wealth generated by that would be simply incalculable.

The third day of business was also the day for summary reviews.

Before closing up shop for the night, everyone gathered together.

They voiced their opinions freely, pointing out the tavern's shortcomings so that everyone could work together to resolve them.

Outside the tavern, Dong Rushi climbed into her carriage.

"My lady, Young Master Ye is really quite a good person," her maid said eagerly, stepping forward. "He just handed over a thousand-tael silver banknote."

When the banknote was displayed, the official stamp of the Shengyuan firm upon it looked exceptionally pleasing to the eye.

Dong Rushi had come to help out not for the sake of money. She only needed to play her zither aboard the pleasure boat once a month to easily secure her livelihood.

However, she also had daily living expenses: rouge, powder, gold and silver trinkets, various musical instruments...

Then there were the wages for the carriage driver and the maid, as well as meals and lodging for them all—everything cost money. Every month, Dong Rushi not only had to pay taxes to the Directorate of Music but also had to offer tribute to its officials.

When all these miscellaneous expenses were tallied up, it came to no less than several hundred taels of silver.

Once the money was handed over to the Directorate, her life became relatively free, and petty clerks no longer came to harass her or demand various miscellaneous taxes.

The amount Ye Xiu gave was neither too much nor too little; it was just right.

What satisfied Dong Rushi the most was that the money had been handed to her maid. Had it been given directly to her, it might have felt somewhat degrading.

A faint smile touched the corner of her lips:

The father was a dragon and phoenix among men, and the son was certainly no ordinary mortal trapped in a stagnant pond.

It was just... just that she wondered what attitude Master Wuji held toward her...

With these thoughts fluttering in her heart, Dong Rushi with trembling fingers unfolded the sheet of letter paper.