Chapter 28: The Paper Peace
The high-ceilinged hall of the Shen Estate was deathly silent as the brush traveled across the final scroll. Lord Shen Tai didn't look like a man losing a mine; he looked like a man who had just finished a tedious chore. He signed with a flourished stroke of the Grand Tutor's seal, his eyes flicking toward the bedroom where Li Wei'an lay unconscious, barely clinging to life.
"There," Shen Tai said, his voice cold and dismissive. "The Silver Mine is now the property of the Main Branch. In exchange, I have granted your house the Qingshui District and the Black-Rock Sentry. I expect no further complaints."
The Patriarch, his face aged by ten years in a single night, looked at the document. It was a masterpiece of short-sighted generosity.
📜 The Settlement of Qingshui
1. The Land Grant: Qingshui District (清水坊)
* A flat, agricultural region at the edge of the Shen territory.
* Contains one market town and six farming villages (approx. 14,000 peasants).
* The Reality: It has no walls and no strategic mountain passes. It produces grain and livestock—enough to keep the family fed, but never enough to make them wealthy.
2. The Fortress: Black-Rock Sentry
* An old, weathered border fortress with cracked masonry.
* The Reality: It requires massive investment to repair. The Main Branch is offloading a maintenance nightmare onto the side branch while calling it a "defensive gift."
3. The Troop Transfer: 300 Infantry
* Average foot soldiers with standard spears and leather armor. No cavalry.
4. The Silver Reparations: 160,000 Silver Taels
* Immediate Payment: A one-time lump sum of 160,000 silver taels was paid to the Shen side-branch as "hush money" to settle all future claims. No future revenue shares from the mine.
5. The Marriage Treaty: The Imperial Tie
* The Main Branch officially recognizes Li Wei'an's marriage to Shen Yao.
* The Hook: Wei'an is contracted to marry a Su main-branch cousin within three years—a political leash to keep him monitored.
The Patriarch's Acceptance
The Patriarch sighed, pressing his own seal into the wax. He knew what this was. By giving them a weak district and an old fort, Shen Tai was "fattening the calf before the slaughter." If the Main Branch rebelled against the King, they needed the Shen Side-Branch to be a stable buffer zone—but one too weak to ever turn against them.
"The deal is done," the Patriarch whispered.
"Good," Shen Tai sneered, rising to his feet. "Heal your merchant son-in-law. It would be a shame if he died before he could see how little his 'miracle' actually bought you."
Chapter 36: The Scars of Victory
Three days later, the fever finally broke.
Wei'an opened his eyes to find the sunlight of the Qingshui district filtering through the window. His side was wrapped in thick bandages, and every breath felt like a hot iron was being pressed into his ribs.
He felt a weight on his hand. He looked down to find Shen Yao asleep in a chair beside his bed, her hand clutching his with a grip so tight her knuckles were white.
"Yao... 'er..." he rasped.
She bolted upright, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and relief. For a second, she looked like she wanted to hug him. Then, the realization of everything he had done—the secret loans, the solo mission, the near-death—hit her.
"You... you idiot!" she sobbed, her voice cracking. "You made a deal with the Grey-Vultures?! You sold your life for a grain shipment?! I thought you were a merchant, not a martyr!"
"Merchant... martyr... same thing," Wei'an whispered, a weak, pained grin touching his lips. "Both... care about... the bottom line."
"The Main Branch took the mine," she said, wiping her tears aggressively. "They gave us a farming district, a broken fort, and 160,000 silver. They think they bought our silence."
Wei'an's eyes sharpened, the glazed look of the fever disappearing. He looked at the window, toward the new lands they had been granted.
"They gave me... 14,000 people and a fortress? And 160,000 in liquid cash?" Wei'an coughed, wincing at the pain. "Fools."
"Wei'an, we lost the mine's future!" she argued.
"No," Wei'an whispered, his mind already racing through 21st-century logistics. "A mine is just a hole in the ground. But 14,000 people... that's a workforce. 160,000 silver... that's startup capital. And a broken fort... that's a tax-free trade hub."
He looked at her, his hand squeezing hers back. "The settlement was too clean. Too quick. That's when I knew—this wasn't peace. It was preparation. They're going to rebel, Yao'er. And when they do, they'll find out that the 'broken' lands they gave us are the only ones left standing."
The sunlight in the Qingshui manor was soft, but for Li Wei'an, the world was still a blur of sharp aches and ledger lines. He sat by the window, wincing as he pulled his hair back into his new, disciplined topknot. He caught his reflection and winked.
"Still the most handsome debtor in the province," he muttered.
"And the most delusional," a voice snapped. Shen Yao stepped into the room, her eyes narrowed. She didn't wait for an invitation; she sat beside him and, with a rough but careful tug, pulled his head down into her lap.
Wei'an froze, then melted into the cushion of her silk robes. "Wife? Is this a reward for my brave injuries, or are you checking if my skull is as thick as the doctors say?"
"Be quiet," she scolded, though her fingers were surprisingly gentle as they massaged his temples. "You work too hard for someone who almost died in a gutter. And I found the Grey-Vulture contract. Taking a thirty-thousand silver loan from those vultures? Do you have a death wish, or just no common sense?"
"It's called 'leveraged growth,' Yao'er. You wouldn't understand," he teased, closing his eyes.
"I understand that if you die, I have to explain to the world that my husband was killed by a math problem," she grumbled. "Don't do it again."
The moment was intimate, quiet, and perfect—until the door slid open. Lian'er glided in, smelling of expensive plum blossoms and secrets. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Shen Yao didn't move, but her grip on Wei'an's hair tightened slightly. "The 'Logistics Asset' has arrived, I see."
Lian'er smiled, a slow, feline curve of the lips. She walked over and knelt on Wei'an's other side. Without a word of apology, she leaned forward, guiding Wei'an to lean against her chest instead.
"Master looks so pale," Lian'er cooed, her hands replacing Yao'er's on his shoulders. "Rest. Let me carry the weight of the city for a moment."
Wei'an, caught between a jealous warrior and a dominant courtesan, decided the smartest move was to talk business. "Report. How is the 'investment' looking?"
Lian'er's eyes sharpened. "The grain distribution in the city is working like a charm. The people are eating your wheat and whispering your name. The low-level clerks have taken your silver and are 'misplacing' the Yan family's tax records as we speak. The elders think they still hold the keys, but the foundation is already yours."
Wei'an reached up, stroking Lian'er's hair in a gesture of genuine thanks. "Well done. According to the plan."
He tried to stand up to reach for a map, but a sharp, white-hot flash of pain from his stab wounds buckled his knees. He gasped, swaying.
Lian'er was instantly under his arm, supporting his weight with surprising strength. "Master, don't push. You're a Lord now, not a foot soldier. Let me help you."
Shen Yao watched them—the courtesan holding her husband, the two of them whispering about bribes and city gates. She felt a strange, prickly heat in her chest that had nothing to do with anger. She stood up abruptly, smoothing her skirts.
"I'm going to the training grounds," Yao'er muttered to herself, loud enough for Wei'an to hear. "Apparently, I need to study how to... 'soothe' people. Or perhaps I'll just learn how to seduce a certain idiot before he forgets who actually owns the house."
She marched out, her face a bright shade of crimson.
Wei'an watched her go, then looked at Lian'er. "Did she just say she was going to study seduction?"
"She has a long way to go, Master," Lian'er giggled, pulling him closer. "But she's learning."
The Restoration of Order
By evening, the humor of the manor was replaced by the steel of the city. Wei'an sat propped up by cushions, giving final orders to Commander Sang.
"Take your seventy veterans," Wei'an commanded, his voice cold. "Combine them with the twenty-five elites and the Iron-Shield adventurers. I don't want a 'rebellion.' Rebellions are messy and illegal."
He tapped the map of the City Hall.
"We are performing a Restoration of Order. Spread the word through the squares. The elders are corrupt, the Yan family is hoarding wealth, and the city is dying. Tell the people we aren't here to overthrow the law—we are here to be the law. When the gates open, I want the citizens cheering for our 'stabilization,' not fearing a coup."
He looked at the distant lights of Jianghe City.
"The City Lordship isn't just a title, Sang. It's a gateway. If we take that city, the Shen name becomes hereditary royalty in all but name. We stop being a 'branch' and start being a 'root'."
"Understood," Sang grinned, slamming his fist against his chest. "We'll clear the path. Just make sure you can walk by the time we reach the throne."