ATLAS TRANSLATES

Chen Qushui deeply resonated with Dou Zhao’s words.

At fifteen, he never imagined he would stop at just being a provincial graduate. At thirty-three, he never thought he couldn’t even be a good adviser.

At fifty-six, he thought he would fade into obscurity and die alone in that cramped little house on East Alley Street. Y

et here he was in this peaceful village, sitting in a warm room with glass-paned windows and heated floors, drinking Liu’an Guapian tea with a twelve-year-old girl.

“So although the properties are in your name, you can’t use them?” Chen Qushui asked after sipping the clear tea.

“Unless I marry far away,” Dou Zhao smiled. “The manager would need to follow me to my husband’s family, otherwise replacing them would offend the Second Branch.”

“What a pity,” Chen Qushui sighed. “I’ve carefully looked at your property list. The shops are spread across the country. If we could establish a system, these shop managers and clerks could become our eyes and ears over time. Nothing happening in the empire would escape our notice.”

Dou Zhao was startled but smiled, “Merchants aren’t necessarily good at gathering intelligence, and spies aren’t necessarily good at business. Finding people who excel at both would be too difficult, and maintaining such a network would likely be too costly to be worthwhile.” But Chen Qushui’s words reminded her of something. She pondered, “Perhaps we could start a new business separate from the Dou family enterprises. Nothing too large, but something that could open branch stores from the capital to Zhending – we need to keep watch on Wang Yousheng and the capital’s movements to avoid being caught off guard.”

Chen Qushui thought for a moment and said, “I noticed your ancestors built their fortune through moneylending…”

Dou Zhao blushed slightly.

Chen Qushui quickly added, “Please don’t misunderstand, Miss. I mean that if we want to know what’s happening in the capital, the best way is to run a business that allows regular contact with the officials in the ministries, and those officials are all scholars. I suggest we open a stationery shop that also sells exam essays, official registers, alumni directories, and such.” At this point, he smiled oddly and continued, “If anyone needs it, we could also lend them money for temporary expenses. What do you think?”

Dou Zhao considered it seriously and had to admit it was a good idea.

“But who could manage this stationery shop?” she wondered aloud. “Zhao Liangbi is too young to command respect. Besides, the Dou family mistakenly thinks he’s from the Zhao family and suspects he might be my uncle’s informant, so they tell him everything, which is how I stay informed. I also want Zhao Liangbi to learn more from the Dou family’s experienced managers. If we ever have a falling out with the Dou family, we’ll need someone who can help manage things without becoming flustered and manipulated. We absolutely can’t move him. As for others… Cui Da won’t do, and I plan to have Cui Thirteen follow Dou Qijun…” She couldn’t find a suitable person, or rather, in this life, finding trustworthy people was the challenge.

Chen Qushui asked, “Miss seems to trust Third Master Xiu very much?”

“His family needs money,” Dou Zhao said, “and they have the most sons, so if there are any family disagreements, they’ll have more voices to speak up.” Of course, the main reason was Dou Qijun – fifteen years later, his influence would rival Dou Shishu’s. She pondered whether to support Dou Qijun against Wang Xingyi if Dou Shishu couldn’t defeat Wang Xingyi.

She hadn’t dared think about it before, but now with help in external affairs, perhaps she could try.

Wasn’t there a saying that the bold get fat while the timid starve?

As Dou Zhao was thinking, Chen Qushui said, “Miss, whether at home or in court, those who command others’ submission aren’t necessarily the loudest speakers, but those whose words carry the most weight. Since you’ve decided to rely on your nephews, why don’t we start identifying a few key ones to build relationships with…”

“Then I’ll trouble Mr. Chen with this matter.” Her choice was Dou Qijun, but since this life was very different from the last one, having more options would benefit her more. It would also test Chen Qushui’s judgment. Dou Zhao smiled, “I grew up in the East Dou household, and everyone seems good to me. I’m afraid I can’t be impartial.”

What kind of family was the Dou clan?

They had produced ten imperial scholars over the generations – even the centuries-old prosperous clans of Jiangnan wouldn’t dare look down on them. Chen Qushui’s long-cooled heart began beating rapidly at the prospect of selecting supporters from among the Dou clan’s descendants, as if anticipating a blazing summer day.

“Very well,” he replied without hesitation. “I’ll present you with candidates in a few days, and you can decide who’s suitable and who isn’t.”

Dou Zhao was satisfied and said, “I think this is good. We’ll open the stationery shop with a proper businessman as the head manager, and Cui Thirteen as the second manager. His main task will be to socialize with court nobles and report capital affairs to us promptly.” At this point, she couldn’t help but laugh, “He’s most skilled at this and enjoys it the most.”

After coming full circle, Cui Thirteen was back in her service, though instead of being the respected chief steward of the Jining Marquis’s estate, he would be a mere second manager of a small shop. If he knew about his past and present lives, would he be furious?

Chen Qushui hesitated, “Should we write a letter of allegiance?”

“No!” Dou Zhao answered almost sharply.

In her previous life, the Cui family, fearing she would be troubled, voluntarily wrote a letter of allegiance. Cui Thirteen followed her into the Jining Marquis’s household and served her loyally, yet was occasionally mocked by Wei Tingzhen – this was a pain in her heart.

“However,” she added calmly, “if any other Cui family descendants wish to join us, let them write letters of allegiance.”

Chen Qushui nodded with satisfaction.

Dou Zhao returned to the West Dou residence through wind and snow.

Qiu Kui anxiously waited at the second gate: “Mr. Jiang said if you don’t return for class soon, he’ll resign and return home.”

“Then let him resign and go home,” Dou Zhao said coldly. “Draw me some hot water, I want to bathe, then I’ll chat with Aunt Cui.” She clearly indicated to Qiu Kui that she wouldn’t attend class today either.

Qiu Kui dared not disobey and attended to Dou Zhao’s washing as instructed.

Jiang Yougong sat in the study until lantern-lighting time without seeing Dou Zhao. His fingers whitened with anger as he gripped his book. He had his servant relay a message to Dou Zhao: “With Spring Festival approaching and having not been home for seven or eight years, I wish to close the school early and return home for the New Year.” He didn’t wait for Dou Zhao’s response and directly ordered his servants to help pack.

Dou Zhao had Haitang deliver twenty taels of silver as a parting gift: “The mountains are high and the road is long. When spring comes and the snow melts, sir can stay home and enjoy time with his grandchildren.”

Jiang Yougong immediately smashed a teacup.

Since they had fallen out, Haitang didn’t hold back either. As she left, she muttered loud enough for Jiang Yougong to hear: “Doesn’t he know where he is? That teacup was new famille rose from the imperial kiln, a set costs ten taels of silver. And he calls himself a scholar – how can he have so little judgment?”

The serving boys, maids, and old women also changed their attitudes, becoming slow and lazy in their work. After two days they still hadn’t finished packing, and in the dead of winter, the meals they served were either cold or too salty and greasy, making them barely edible.

Since becoming a tutor at the He household, Jiang Yougong had never experienced such treatment.

He couldn’t stay another day. He hired two people to help pack his belongings and rented a cart to return home.

Only after returning home did he think to write letters to He Wendao and Dou Shiying.

But by the time his letter reached the He residence, He Wendao had already received Dou Shiying’s personal apology: “…My daughter’s learning is shallow, and she could hardly understand eight or nine tenths of Mr. Jiang’s teachings. Moreover, being a frail girl, she couldn’t maintain daily attendance. Please convey our apologies to Mr. Jiang for any disrespect. I’ve already sent him five hundred taels of silver as a parting gift.”

He Wendao was quite uneasy and recommended another teacher to Dou Shiying: “This person is ordinary in essay writing, but he excels in the four arts of the scholar. He’s also skilled in poetry and painting, quite suitable for teaching your daughter some refined pursuits.”

Dou Shiying repeatedly expressed his thanks and wrote back to Dou Zhao: “This time you absolutely must not drive anyone away. Once might be someone else’s fault, but what about the second or third time? Don’t take everything too seriously – just think of it as keeping an idle helper in the household.”

Is this what a father should say?

What did she need an idle helper for?

Dou Zhao tossed the letter aside.

Grandmother called her over: “New Year’s approaching. The Bie family has no relatives, it must be very lonely. Have someone bring them some New Year goods. Also see if you can buy their martial arts school. Being able to die in the ancestral home means they won’t have to face their ancestors in the underworld with shame.”

Dou Zhao was still angry with Dou Shiying. Seeing the weather had just cleared, she took Ganlu and Sujuan to Zhending.

This was Ganlu and Sujuan’s first long journey in this life. Seeing Dou Zhao resting with closed eyes, they secretly lifted the carriage curtain to peek outside, whispering intimately to each other, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

At the Bie family home, they met Chen Qushui at the door. He too was carrying packages of New Year goods.

The Bie sisters were very grateful and quickly welcomed Dou Zhao and Chen Qushui into the firewood room, while Bie Sulan entertained Ganlu and Sujuan with tea in the adjacent kitchen.

Bie Gangyi was already unconscious. That he had lasted this long was entirely due to having access to good medicine, and most of the money for these medicines had come from Dou Zhao.

She handed the deed to the Bie martial arts school to the Bie sisters.

The Bie sisters burst into tears.

Dou Zhao smiled and said, “You should thank Mr. Liu Zhuang.”

Liu Zhuang was the one who had bought the Bie martial arts school when Bie Gangyi was in difficulty. When Zhao Liangbi wanted to redeem it, he sold it back to him at the original price without hesitation.

The Bie sisters kept nodding, while Ganlu and Sujuan looked at them curiously.

When Bie Sulan went to cook, Ganlu helped tend the fire and quietly asked her what was going on.

From outside came a young man’s bright voice: “Junior martial sister, I’ve come to see Master.”