Chapter 6: The Art of Burning Cash
Inside the Shen study, the air was thick with the scent of high-stakes gambling.
"If you marry me," Shen Yao said, her voice regaining its cold, clinical edge, "The Li Clan receives a 'Noble Affiliation' status. Your trade routes will be protected by the Shen sigil. No more 'accidental' city gate taxes. No more harassment from petty magistrates. We provide the shield; you provide the… whatever it is you do with grain."
Wei'an leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The "roast" from earlier still stung, but a merchant never let a bruise stop a sale.
"Protection, status, and a wife who thinks I'm 'passable'?" Wei'an stood up, brushing off his white robes. He suddenly closed the distance between them, leaning down until he could see the slight flicker of surprise in Shen Yao's eyes. "It's a deal, dear wife. Let's make it official. Marriage in three days?"
Shen Yao recoiled slightly, her face flushing—not out of romance, but pure indignation. "Three days? That's—"
"Efficiency, my dear! Time is silver!" Wei'an winked at the stunned Patriarch, blew a kiss toward the ceiling, and sauntered out of the hall. "I'll have my steward send over the measurements for my wedding robes. Make sure they're slimming!"
As he walked out, he heard the Patriarch mutter, "I can't tell if he's a genius or just fundamentally broken."
The "Collapse"
Wei'an's high mood lasted exactly until he reached the market district of Jianghe City.
Across the street from his modest shop, a monstrosity had appeared. The Red Crane Shop was draped in expensive crimson silk, with banners screaming: ALL GOODS 20% LOWER THAN THE LI HOUSE!
Crowds were swarming. People who had been shaking Wei'an's hand yesterday were now sprinting across the street to save two copper coins on a bag of nails.
Old Chen ran up to him, sweating profusely. "Master! This Master Zhou is a lunatic! He's buying from the Capital middlemen at premium prices and selling them for less than the cost of the wood! We're losing 60% of our daily traffic! We're taking losses just to keep the lights on!"
Wei'an looked at the Red Crane shop. He looked at Master Zhou, who was standing on a balcony across the way, sipping wine and looking down at Wei'an with a smug grin.
"He's using middlemen?" Wei'an asked quietly.
"Yes! And I heard he took a massive high-interest loan from the city's private lenders to fund this 'war'."
Wei'an's smirk was slow and predatory. "He's burning cash to buy a reputation he hasn't earned. How cute."
Then, Wei'an made a decision that made Old Chen's heart nearly stop.
"Sell the house," Wei'an said.
"Pardon?"
"The Li Mansion. Sell it. Sell the furniture. Sell the spare robes. Sell everything that isn't a horse, a wagon, or a bag of grain."
"Master, you'll be a vagomond! Where will we live?"
"Move the staff to the Mercenary Guild headquarters. We'll sleep in the barracks," Wei'an said, his eyes cold. "If we're going to be 'bankrupt,' let's do it properly."
The Race to the Bottom
For the next two days, the city watched a suicidal dance.
Wei'an lowered his prices.
Master Zhou lowered his even more.
Wei'an lowered his prices to the point of zero profit.
Master Zhou went into the negatives, literally paying people to take his goods.
Then, on the third day, Wei'an did the unthinkable. He closed his shop.
"He gave up!" Master Zhou screamed with laughter, throwing a party in his shop. "The Li boy is finished! He's living in a mercenary camp like a beggar!"
Zhou was burning through 500 silvers a day to maintain his "victory." He was convinced that once Wei'an was gone, he could jack the prices up and make it all back. He didn't realize that Wei'an wasn't "gone"—he was just liquidating.
The "Perfect" Couple
The night before the wedding, Wei'an met Shen Yao in a private garden to finalize their "public appearance" strategy.
He looked a bit more rugged, having spent the night on a thin cot at the guild, but his eyes were sharper than ever.
"I need a loan," Wei'an said, cutting straight to the point. "1,000 silver taels."
Shen Yao looked at him like he was a particularly confusing bug. "I heard you sold your family home. You're living with mercenaries. And now you want more money to throw into that price war?"
"I'm not throwing it into the war," Wei'an smiled. "I'm buying the funeral flowers for Master Zhou. I just need you to play the 'doting, wealthy wife' for one night. Let the city see the Shen House is backing me. It'll make Zhou's lenders nervous."
Shen Yao sighed, pulling out a pouch. "1,000 silvers. But if you embarrass me tomorrow, I'll have the guards use you for target practice."
"Understood, 'Dear Wife'."
Wei'an took the money, but as he turned to leave, he paused. He looked at her—really looked at her—in the moonlight. The widow who was trying to save a dying house, just like he was.
"You know," he said softly, his voice losing its merchant edge for a moment. "You're actually quite terrifying when you're not roasting me."
"And you're actually quite competent when you're not being an idiot," she replied, her voice softening just a fraction.
"Is that a compliment? I'll take it as a compliment."
The Hook
The next morning, the city woke up to a shock.
Master Zhou's lenders had arrived at the Red Crane shop. They had heard rumors that the Shen House was funneling unlimited wealth into the Li Clan. If the Shen House was backing Wei'an, then Zhou's "price war" wasn't a skirmish—it was an infinite pit.
They wanted their money back. Now.
And at the same time, a messenger arrived at the Mercenary Guild with a frantic note for Wei'an.
"Master! The grain we stored in the cold warehouse… someone tried to set it on fire last night. And they didn't look like thugs. They looked like professional soldiers."
Wei'an crumpled the note, his smile vanishing.
"The game just got a lot more expensive," he muttered. "Time to go to a wedding.