Chapter Thirteen: A Major Joint Venture

“Brother Feng… Isn’t your sister-in-law a frontier general? Normally, military supplies shouldn’t be reported straight to the court, so why the need for—”
Before he finished, Sun Fugui had already hit the crux of the matter. If there was an epidemic in the army, the court would have known long ago, and all manner of medicines for prevention and treatment would be prepared in advance.

“Haha… Seems this fat Sun isn’t as hopelessly stupid as the rumors say!
It’s obvious this Feng fellow is trying to pull the wool over his eyes…”

“Hush… Keep it down. The food here is excellent, but alas, there’s no music to accompany the wine.
Now that we’ve chanced upon a good show, let’s not spoil it…”

At a table to the front right, a young man—none other than the Minister of War’s brother-in-law—glanced over with mild interest. A rascal paired with a fool; he was curious to see what tricks would unfold.

For such a straightforward question, Feng Jingzhe had long since prepared an answer.

“Fugui, I’ll treat you as a true brother and tell you the truth. To be honest, this medicinal coptis… it’s not actually meant for people…”

Feng Jingzhe deliberately lowered his voice, leaning close to Sun Fugui’s ear.

“What? Not for people! Are you feeding it to livestock or something…”

The fat Sun bellowed in astonishment, and Feng Jingzhe almost leapt up to embrace this godsend of a sidekick!

“Shh… Keep it down…”

Feng clamped a hand over Sun Fugui’s mouth, his eyes darting theatrically around.

“Wait… Feeding coptis to livestock? Could it be there’s an outbreak among the animals?
But how many beasts are there in Longxi—what need is there for such unlimited procurement…”

As a friend of the Minister of War’s brother-in-law, Liu Lei had more channels and insight into military affairs than most. The Liu family had traded for generations, so his business instincts were especially sharp. What he thought was a simple dinner and a farce now gave him pause.

“Brother Liu, don’t let that rascal’s nonsense fool you. Just watch—next, Feng will ask for money…”

Sure enough, Feng Jingzhe stretched out a hand toward Sun Fugui.

“Brother Fugui, I need this amount right now. Same interest as last time—settle up every ten days…”

“Haha! Didn’t I say so? No matter how elaborate his story, Feng’s real aim is just to swindle money…”

“Brother Fan, your insight is as sharp as ever. My admiration…”

The one being so praised was the host of the table, the Minister of War’s brother-in-law, surnamed Fan. He was in high spirits, and looked rather smugly at Liu Lei across the table. With thoughts like these, how do you expect to do business? You can’t even see through such a simple trick, yet you want to be the Liu family’s representative in Chang’an? Young Master Fan couldn’t help but look down on Liu Lei a little more.

Meanwhile, upon seeing Feng Jingzhe’s outstretched hand, Sun Fugui’s face showed a hint of surprise as well.

“Brother Feng, you want to borrow five hundred taels?”

“Heh… What’s five hundred taels good for! This is a big deal—I can’t lose!
I want to borrow five thousand taels, with one hundred taels interest, settled every ten days…”

As he finished, the room fell silent. Even Sun Youcai behind the counter stopped working his abacus, his expression openly one of disbelief.

“Has this kid gone mad with greed? Five thousand taels, just like that—why not just rob someone…”

“You’re wrong, brother. If Fat Sun actually lends it, that’s faster than robbery…”

“Utter nonsense. If this business truly couldn’t fail, why wouldn’t he buy the stock himself and send it to Longxi? Why borrow money from someone else…”

Because the room had gone quiet, their jibes reached Feng Jingzhe’s ears. He slowly rose, a contemptuous smile on his lips.

“Heh… Want to procure coptis and send it to Longxi yourselves?
By all means—since you’ve all heard this much, give it a try.
Let’s see who dares accept your goods at the door without a letter of introduction from me, Feng the Third…”

His words were resolute, his manner forceful, as if the matter of unlimited coptis procurement was utterly certain.

“Give it a rest… Everyone knows Feng the Third’s mouth is as foul as the brothel lackey’s spit jar…”

Young Master Fan suddenly stood, sparing no courtesy.

“What’s that supposed to mean…”

His friends at the table obligingly asked.

“It means, whoever gets close can’t help but spit in it—filthy and foul! Hahaha…”

Meanwhile, the entire restaurant erupted in laughter, everyone taking this money-mad fellow as a source of amusement.

Feng Jingzhe, facing this wave of ridicule, neither fumed nor faltered; instead, he turned to Sun Fugui at his side.

Fat Sun raised his cup and drained it, meeting Feng Jingzhe’s gaze with a Buddha-like smile.

“Brother Feng, this won’t do…”

Behind the counter, seeing his son wasn’t quite the hopeless fool he feared, Sun Youcai finally relaxed. The rhythmic clatter of abacus beads resumed.

“Five thousand taels—if I could lend that much, why not become partners instead?”

Thud—

Sun Youcai nearly toppled from his high stool, but paid his aching knees no mind as he scrambled out.

“Wait… Fugui, don’t be rash—think carefully, we must be prudent…”

This was no joke—five thousand taels! A year’s hard-earned profit from Shi Wei Tian, after costs and bribes, amounted to barely half that. Now his foolish son, in less than ten exchanges, was about to gamble two years’ net profit on a partnership. And the partner still owed them for wine! It was a pit—no, a bottomless abyss!

“Dad, you said I’m the heir of Shi Wei Tian, that my word is my bond!
For us merchants, credibility is everything. I’ve already spoken, so if Brother Feng agrees, then it’s settled!”

Sun Youcai, his posture twisted, didn’t know whether to press forward or hang back after hearing his son’s words.

This time, it was Feng Jingzhe’s heart that skipped a beat; he hadn’t expected Fat Sun to propose such terms!
Truthfully, he’d only planned to hustle a little money tonight—five thousand taels was a stretch, meant as a negotiating buffer. If he could wrangle a hundred taels, he’d count himself lucky; most likely, he’d only get a few dozen.

Now, with the young master of Shi Wei Tian offering a five-thousand-tael partnership in one breath, Feng Jingzhe found himself outmaneuvered. Once again, he looked at this Buddha-faced Fat Sun. On that simple, endearing face, he could no longer tell whether the man was truly as foolish as the rumors said, or if there was a hidden wisdom beneath that guise…