Chapter 44

Forty-Four: The Show Begins

Ouyang Rong discovered something quite remarkable: as a “civil servant” of the Zhou Dynasty, he was entitled to a statutory holiday on Dragon Boat Festival—a decree issued annually by the Empress.

But in this era, only a tiny minority could enjoy such a privilege, for common folk struggling to make ends had no concept of workdays or holidays.

In this world, the working class had truly become the elite…

The opening ceremony of the Peng Lang River Dragon Boat Festival was unremarkable; as County Magistrate, Ouyang Rong merely showed up to display his handsome face, spoke two brief words—literally just two—and then led the “awakening the dragon” ritual before taking his seat on the stage like a lifeless statue.

In the southern Wu-Yue region, dragon boat racing on Dragon Boat Festival had long been a cherished custom, especially in flood-prone areas, where it was believed to invoke favorable weather and bountiful harvests, making it one of the year’s most important festivals.

Ouyang Rong was merely an outsider appointed as magistrate; during the entire Dragon Boat Festival, Longcheng County’s government and the people had their own well-oiled traditional routines, requiring no intervention from him—he only needed to monitor the county’s expenditures.

These past few days, Ouyang Rong had been buried in verifying his water conservancy plan, so he was perfectly content to rest now.

Moreover, the purpose of staging such a grand Dragon Boat Festival had clearly been achieved, so he decided to slack off for a while.

Hmm, let me peel a rice dumpling first!

Along the Butterfly Creek, there were many viewing platforms stretching for miles, and spectators did not crowd into a single spot.

But the central main viewing platform, where Ouyang Rong sat, was located at the starting point of the dragon boat race.

Nearby, however, were several other excellent viewing platforms, equally lively, occupied by Longcheng’s prominent clans and wealthy merchants.

Liu Ziwen had rented one of the best-positioned viewing platforms for his second brother Liu Zian and their family.

Liu Zian sat on his chair, silently withdrawing his gaze from the young county magistrate—whose face radiated harmless innocence—and turned to ask:

“Brother, what do you think this magistrate is thinking? He lifted the grain rationing order, and prices have already skyrocketed to twenty cash per dou—does he plan to flip grain himself?”

Liu Zian watched the dragon boat race intently, shaking his head slightly:

“Forget him for now. Rising grain prices hurt us not at all. Right now, the most important thing is… that sword in the furnace… we must keep constant watch. Everything else is secondary. As long as this carrot magistrate doesn’t come at us like a rabid dog, we’ll continue uniting the other twelve wealthy gentry families to isolate him.”

“It’s clear he wants to control the floods, but where will he get the extra silver and grain? And to repair the Di Gong Lock, he can’t possibly finish it quickly without the craftsmen we provide. Let him wait a little longer—he’ll come begging eventually.”

“The logic is simple. Justice isn’t something you can achieve casually. Even the disgraced Master Di failed to accomplish it—how could this boy hope to succeed?”

This young master of the Liu clan felt no urgency whatsoever, confident victory was already in his grasp.

Liu Zian glanced at his brother, nodded silently, and said no more.

For a great ship like the Liu family, besides the helmsman who grasps the broader trend, they also need deputies like Liu Zian—those who handle the dirty, exhausting work behind the scenes.

Liu Ziwen enjoyed reading the currents, excelling in strategy and decisive judgment; Liu Zian preferred schemes and was skilled at setting traps.

Liu Zian held deep respect for Liu Ziwen’s decisions.

On the other side, another viewing platform, rented at great expense, offered an equally superb view.

Wang Cao sat among a group of grain merchants, in unusually good spirits.

Why not? Whoever stumbled upon free money would be in high spirits.

He and his Qingliangzhai were among the earliest outside grain merchants to recognize Longcheng County as a treasure trove; while local gentry and merchants scrambled to source grain from distant acquaintances, Wang Cao had already ordered thirty thousand shi of stored grain from Qingliangzhai’s warehouse in Hongzhou.

A swift, profitable move indeed.

When large numbers of outside grain merchants arrived in Longcheng like sharks scenting blood, Wang Cao hosted a banquet at Yuanming Tower, warmly receiving his peers, sharing intelligence on Longcheng’s market conditions, and openly revealing everything—whether they were stronger or weaker than him—thus forging a tight-knit team to manipulate grain prices.

Over the past half-ten days, more and more grain merchants had flocked to Longcheng, yet prices remained stubbornly fixed at twenty cash per dou—thanks to their control. True, the festival’s demand for rice dumplings contributed, but the real reason was their manipulation: the market stayed stable, grain was plentiful but not hoarded, allowing them to slowly harvest these Jiucai .

In business, everyone profits amicably together—why fight or monopolize? Such tactics never last, even with the most powerful backing.

Moreover, Wang Cao had another reason to be pleased.

He had encountered a direct-line, legitimate daughter of the Xie clan of Chen Commandery—Xie Shiqi Niang, an exceptionally brilliant young woman among the current generation of the Wuyi Lane Wang-Xie lineage, whose father was the great Zhou literary scholar Xie Xun.

Wang Cao harbored no delusions. He was merely a collateral branch of the Langya Wang clan, engaged in commerce, and Qingliangzhai was not highly regarded within his family.

He had self-awareness: the higher one’s noble birth and privilege, the stricter the social hierarchy.

Wang Cao wished to cultivate a relationship with Xie Shiqi Niang—at least become familiar—so that if one day a favored direct-line Wang scion married her, he could leverage that connection. This was called placing an early bet.

“Wang Young Manager, I feel this tiny Longcheng County can’t possibly absorb so much grain.”

Among the group of outside grain merchants on the viewing platform, a tall middle-aged merchant wearing a purple futou paused his small-leaf rosewood bracelet and frowned.

Wang Cao turned to look; this man was the wealthiest of the outside merchants, and next to Wang Cao himself, the one with the most formidable background—a man surnamed Ma, rumored to be the white glove of some founding noble family from Jinling.

Wang Cao smiled warmly. “Master Ma, don’t rush. Longcheng is just an appetizer—eat your fill first.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

Wang Cao replied calmly: “Once Longcheng’s grain prices rise, grain merchants from neighboring disaster-stricken counties will inevitably grow restless. Even if they have rationing orders, they won’t be able to hold back. Then we’ll go there and pour more fuel on the fire, hehe…”

“Longcheng’s waterways are convenient—perfect as our transit hub. We store grain here first; later, all disaster-stricken counties across Jiangzhou will be our dining table.”

Master Ma relaxed his brow, but another elderly merchant with a goatee spoke up:

“What if prices don’t rise for a long time, and the grain spoils? Old grain fetches little money—we can’t let the poor benefit in the end.”

The old merchant pinched the corner of his blue-black silk robe and shook his head. “This place is too humid for grain storage—it spoils easily.”

The old merchant was surnamed Li, second only to Master Ma and Wang Cao in wealth, rumored to have ties to the Hongzhou Chancellor’s household.

Wang Cao’s expression didn’t change, as if he’d already considered this. He pointed to the dock beneath them:

“It’s precisely because of this region’s advanced water transport. So we must communicate daily about grain sales. If we sense trouble—risk of grain piling up—we immediately charter ships to move it out. Right now, this is a disaster zone; labor is cheapest. It won’t cost much.”

He grinned, revealing a row of white teeth, gesturing to the merchants, then to himself:

“None of you are greenhorns fresh out of the trade. Can’t you sense the slightest market shift? If things turn sour, you run—do you think we’re doing charity? Which of you uncles isn’t a thousand-year-old fox? I’m sure many of you already have ships ready. Why ask me?”

Master Ma, Master Li, and the others exchanged glances and nodded with amused smirks.

A quiet merchant praised: “Young Manager Wang truly has a sharp tongue and thorough planning—no wonder you took over your family’s business so young and shoulder such responsibility.”

“I’m not worthy, not worthy—I still have much to learn from you uncles.”

Wang Cao smiled and waved dismissively, though inwardly he felt irritation… I am a noble scion of the Langya Wang clan. Had I not failed my studies, I’d never have to deal with you merchants—lowly, despised tradesmen.

Wang Cao glanced at the dragon boat race about to begin, then turned to his attendant and ordered some sweet rice dumplings. His peripheral vision suddenly caught a familiar silhouette walking toward the main viewing platform—he frowned curiously, rose from his seat, and followed.