Chapter 11 — Exterior Hugs Her Belly, Drives My Master And Mother Out Of The Main Court

The rain has stopped now, as if the dust has been washed away. I sat in the carriage, from beginning to end just quietly watching everything, without a wave in my heart. Whatever you sow, you will reap. The driver immediately raised his whip. The horse lightly puffed loudly and then slowly moved forward. The horse-drawn carriage rolled steadily down each long street, through the bustling, crowded market. In the middle of the busiest street in the city, where Bui Palace's signboard originally hung, it has now changed to four large letters:

“Shen Thi Thuong Hanh.”

Each golden lettering glowed in the sunlight after the rain, so dazzling that people couldn't help but raise their heads to look up. The red flag in front of the commercial gate fluttered in the wind, the glorious atmosphere was completely different from the decline of Bui Palace in previous years. Three months later, early winter. In the conference hall of the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce, silver coal burned brightly in the copper furnace, the warmth spreading throughout the room. I wore a neat and smooth brocade embroidered robe, with a sharp and dignified aura. Her black hair was tied into a high bun behind her head, with only a knife inlaid with dark red gems on the bun, making it even more cold and dazzling under the firelight. I leisurely sat in the chair of the merchant guild. On both sides below are the most famous landlords and shopkeepers in Giang Ninh city. That position has always been reserved for men. But now, all of them can only look up at me.

“President Shen, this time the silk shipment from Indonesia still needs to rely on the Tham family's trade route to support the rotation.”

The silk industry tycoon sitting on the left immediately smiled ingratiatingly, his tone was extremely polite. I leisurely turned the teacup in my hand, my expression still calm as before.

"The Tham family's trade only accepts money, there has never been a rule for debt."

"If Treasurer Vuong doesn't have enough money, then this business... should still find someone else."

Hearing that, Treasurer Vuong immediately nodded like pounding garlic.

"There is money! It must be money!"

“As long as President Tham is willing to lead us to earn silver, that little bit of silver is worth nothing.”

On the sides of the hall, the ladies who laughed at me at the flower reward party that year, and who wholeheartedly flattered Lieu Oanh Oanh, were all sitting peacefully drinking tea at this time. They came here today, just to beg the Tham family to open a convenient way for their mother's family to do business. Each person bowed their head in agreement, and even spoke cautiously. There's no longer half the arrogance and nobility like before. Thanh Hoa lightly walked into the hall, walked to my side, then bowed down and announced in a low voice:

“Miss, the yamen just sent a message.”

I raised the tea cup and took a sip. Thanh Hoa's voice lowered even more:

"Bui Nghien on the way to exile was infected with wind and cold. In the end, he couldn't bear it anymore and died on the way."

“And Lieu Oanh Oanh and Lieu Ba Tu were sent by the government officials to the northernmost region to work hard for the Han soldiers on the border.”

The tip of my finger holding the cup of tea paused for a moment. Then, I slowly put the tea cup on the table. The tea lid gently touched the rim of the cup, emitting a clear "click" sound.

“I know.”

His voice was so calm that no ripples could be heard, as if he had just heard something random worth worrying about. The shopkeepers in the hall saw me raise my head and immediately fell silent. Everyone held their breath and concentrated, afraid of missing even a single instruction. Outside the window, the winter sunlight penetrated the clouds and faintly fell on the script in front of me. It also shines on a few brand new bright red papers placed on the script next to his hand. Golden light spread throughout the hall, warmth slowly spreading to every corner of the room. My voice softly rang out:

“Continue to discuss the winter salt crop.”

(Completed story)