Chapter 13: Pay Up
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For a while, no one spoke in the pavilion.
Only the sound of the wind passing over the water could be heard.
After some time, Zhao Yi seemed to remember something. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile, breaking the awkward silence.
“By the way.”
“Last time, I took the liberty of presenting you with a piece called *Rhapsody on the Goddess of the Luo River*.”
“I wonder... did you ever read it?”
At the mention of the poem, an unnatural blush flashed across Chu Yanran’s icy, beautiful face.
How could she possibly not have read it?
That magnificently worded rhapsody, with its astonishingly lofty imagery, had already been read by her more than a hundred times.
Each time she read it, the shock and absurdity in her heart grew stronger.
How could that good-for-nothing, that useless fool who had once written “white on a yellow dog,” possibly have composed something like this?
For a time, she had even suspected that he had plagiarized it from somewhere.
Yet she had searched through every ancient text and could not find the slightest trace of a similar work.
Now that Zhao Yi had asked her about it face-to-face, her cheeks burned as though he had exposed a secret she had been desperately trying to hide.
She abruptly turned her head away, not daring to meet his eyes. Her voice was cold, carrying a hint of embarrassment and anger.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You lecherous scoundrel may actually possess a little crooked talent after all.”
The moment those words left her mouth, she had effectively admitted that she had read it.
Zhao Yi’s heart settled.
There was hope!
He shamelessly moved a step closer, a carefree, roguish smile spreading across his handsome face.
“Crooked talent is still talent.”
“To have won Miss Yanran’s approval is an honor beyond anything I deserve.”
“You!”
His shameless manner infuriated Chu Yanran, and her chest rose and fell slightly.
This man was truly different from the lecherous bastard of the past, who could do nothing but hide behind others with a lascivious look in his eyes.
Seeing that she was genuinely angry, Zhao Yi immediately stopped while he was ahead.
He took a step back, wiped the smile from his face, and became more solemn than ever before.
Facing Chu Yanran, he bent deeply at the waist and gave her a full ninety-degree bow.
“Miss Yanran.”
“What happened before was his fault. He was a bastard—less than human.”
“I apologize to you on his behalf.”
“I know that an apology is as light as a feather and cannot make up for the harm he caused you.”
Zhao Yi straightened and looked at her with burning intensity. His eyes held an unprecedented seriousness.
“But from today onward, as long as I, Zhao Yi, live another day—”
“I will protect you for that day.”
“I will never again allow anyone to bully, humiliate, or hurt you in the slightest.”
“I will take responsibility for you to the very end.”
His words rang out with unmistakable force.
Chu Yanran’s heart began pounding uncontrollably.
She looked at the man before her, her mind thrown into confusion.
Reason told her not to believe him. Men were all liars.
Yet the sincerity in his eyes, together with the thoroughly transformed aura about him, made her waver despite herself.
Seeing her struggle, Zhao Yi knew he could not press her too hard.
He changed his tone, once again allowing a relaxed smile to touch his face.
“I know you don’t trust me right now.”
“It doesn’t matter. Time reveals a person’s heart.”
He pointed toward the stone bench beside them.
“Standing is tiring. Why don’t I tell you a story to pass the time?”
Chu Yanran’s delicate brows drew together slightly. She neither agreed nor refused.
Zhao Yi took it as tacit permission.
He sat down on his own, cleared his throat, and slowly began in a soothing tone.
“Once upon a time, there was a place called Zhu Family Manor.”
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“In that manor lived an extraordinarily beautiful young lady named Zhu Yingtai.”
“Miss Zhu didn’t care for makeup—she preferred weapons. Ah, no, what I mean is, she loved studying. She insisted on disguising herself as a man and going to an academy outside the manor to study.”
The very beginning of the story aroused Chu Yanran’s curiosity.
A woman going to school?
She had never heard of such a thing.
Zhao Yi retold the famous love story in a modern, leisurely manner.
He spoke of Liang Shanbo’s simple, honest nature and Zhu Yingtai’s clever, mischievous spirit.
He told of the three years they spent as classmates, their sworn brotherhood at Grass Bridge, and their farewell beneath the Eighteen-Mile Escort.
Chu Yanran became completely absorbed. Gradually, a glimmer appeared in her usually cool eyes.
When Zhao Yi reached the part where Ma Wencai forced Zhu Yingtai to marry him, Liang Shanbo fell gravely ill, and eventually died vomiting blood, the rims of Chu Yanran’s eyes reddened.
“What happened afterward?”
She could not help asking.
Seeing her expression, Zhao Yi chuckled inwardly.
That’s it. I’ve got her.
“Afterward, on the day Zhu Yingtai was to be married, her bridal sedan passed by Liang Shanbo’s grave. Suddenly, fierce winds began to howl, and the tomb split open. Zhu Yingtai leaped straight inside.”
“Then, from the grave, two incredibly beautiful butterflies flew out.”
At last, Chu Yanran could no longer hold back her tears.
She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve, unwilling for Zhao Yi to see her lose control.
But Zhao Yi shook his head and smiled.
“Miss, don’t cry. I haven’t finished the story yet.”
“The version I’m telling has a different ending.”
“The pair of butterflies flew and flew until they reached the mountaintop where an immortal lived. The immortal thought their love had been too bitter, so, in an act of mercy, he waved his hand and turned them back into human beings. From then on, they lived happily together.”
“What?”
Chu Yanran froze.
There was an ending like that?
She raised her head, her tear-streaked face filled with astonishment.
Zhao Yi looked at her and smiled brightly.
“That’s right.”
“In my stories, those who love one another should always end up together.”
“Even ill-fated lovers deserve a happy ending.”
His smile and his words were like warm sunlight shining into Chu Yanran’s heart, frozen for so long.
She looked at him and, for a moment, became utterly entranced.
Before they knew it, nearly noon had arrived.
Zhao Yi stood and stretched.
“It’s getting late. I should be leaving.”
He cupped his hands toward Chu Yanran.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you today. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
With that, he turned and left without the slightest hesitation.
Watching his departing figure, Chu Yanran stood rooted to the spot for a long time.
In her hands, she still clutched the sheet of rice paper on which the poem had been written.
The ink had already dried.
“I do not seek to erase the grievances of the past;
I only wish that your heart may recognize who I am now.”
...
Zhao Yi returned to the Zhao residence in excellent spirits.
Now that he had settled matters with the Duke of An’s household, the heavy stone weighing on his heart had finally been lifted.
Next came the matter of raising money and getting down to business.
He went straight to his father Zhao Zhao’s study.
Then he kicked the door open.
“Father!”
Zhao Zhao, who had been handling official matters behind his desk, was startled. The brush in his hand fell onto the table, ruining an official document.
He raised his head, saw Zhao Yi, and immediately flew into a rage.
“You little brat! Do you know how to knock?”
“I’m entering my own house. Why would I knock?”
Zhao Yi swaggered inside, dropped into the chair opposite Zhao Zhao, and crossed one leg over the other.
Watching his son’s slovenly, carefree manner, Zhao Zhao felt the vein at his temple throb.
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“What kind of trouble are you plotting now?”
“Father, this is serious business.”
Zhao Yi put away his usual cheeky grin, and his expression became solemn.
“I made a military pledge to His Majesty. I’m going to produce cement.”
“The Ministry of Works will cooperate, but we’ll have to find the start-up capital ourselves.”
“So?”
Zhao Zhao’s eyelid twitched. He had a distinctly bad feeling.
“So your son needs money.”
Zhao Yi held up two fingers.
“Let’s start with twenty thousand taels and test the waters.”
“Pfft—”
Zhao Zhao had just taken a sip of tea. At the words “twenty thousand taels,” he sprayed it all over the room.
He slammed his palm onto the desk and shot to his feet, pointing at Zhao Yi’s nose as he cursed.
“Twenty thousand taels?!”
“Why don’t you just go rob someone!”
“Do you think our family’s money is blown in by the wind? I just cleaned up your mess on the northern frontier, and do you have any idea how much military expenditure that cost? Now you have the nerve to open your mouth and ask for twenty thousand taels?!”
Zhao Zhao’s face had turned crimson with rage. He paced back and forth across the study, cursing as he went.
“How did I ever end up with such a spendthrift son?”
“I’m telling you, you won’t get a single coin!”
Zhao Yi did not get angry. He simply sat there, calm and unhurried, watching his father erupt.
Only after Zhao Zhao had nearly finished venting did he speak lazily.
“Father, isn’t your vision a little narrow?”
“What am I doing? I’m carrying out His Majesty’s orders! I’m building an iron wall for the Great Zhou!”
“If this cement succeeds, forget merely being Lord Anbei. It may not be impossible for you to be granted a dukedom in the future!”
“You’re quibbling over twenty thousand taels now, but if you miss out on a fortune from heaven, you won’t even have a place to cry!”
Zhao Zhao was rendered speechless by his son’s tirade.
Nonsense.
It was all nonsense.
But why did it sound as though there was actually some sense to it?
Looking at his son, whose tongue was sharper than a blade, Zhao Zhao found himself unable to refute him.
Seeing that there was an opening, Zhao Yi immediately pressed his advantage.
“Besides, this money won’t be wasted. Once cement is mass-produced, it can make a fortune! When the time comes, forget twenty thousand taels—even two hundred thousand or two million taels will be child’s play!”
“The money you invest now is called angel-round investment. Understand? The returns in the future could be hundreds or even thousands of times your investment!”
“What sort of investment?”
Zhao Zhao was completely bewildered.
“Father, just tell me whether you’re giving me the money.”
Zhao Yi spread his hands.
“If you refuse, I’ll go straight to the palace and complain to His Majesty. I’ll tell him that my father, the Minister of War and Lord Anbei, was unwilling to part with a mere twenty thousand taels and delayed a matter of national importance.”
“You... you dare!”
Zhao Zhao trembled with rage.
Was this really his own son?
This was practically an ancestor of debt collectors!
Father and son glared at each other for a full half-minute.
In the end, Zhao Zhao was the first to surrender.
Grinding his teeth, he pulled a large ring of keys from the drawer of his desk and slammed it onto the table.
“Get out!”
“Go collect it from the accounts office yourself!”
“Once you’ve taken the money, get the hell out of here! Stop standing around where I have to look at you!”
Pointing at Zhao Yi’s nose, he forced the words through clenched teeth.
“You really are a damned good-for-nothing!”
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