Chapter 887: Hidden Identity Nobles Enter Xiazhou

A cold wind mixed with the fishy smell of alkaline soil swirled at the northern entrance of the Xiazhou trade market.

A massive caravan consisting of over fifty camels and a hundred sturdy horses stepped over the gravel-strewn ground and entered the designated area of the market.

Leading them was a young man wrapped in a heavy black bear-fur cloak.

The man's cheeks were rough and reddened by the wind and sand, but the curved saber hanging at his waist, inlaid with turquoise, caught the winter sunlight and refracted a dazzling halo.

Following behind him was a more burly man wearing a worn-out old leather coat, his eyes scanning the market's granaries and silk shops like a starving wolf searching for prey.

As soon as this group stopped in the open space in front of the official counter, several market porters dressed in tattered sheepskin coats approached them.

While pretending to help unload the cargo, the porters exchanged a subtle, hidden glance.

One of the porters took advantage of the movement while carrying fodder to slip quickly into a dark alley behind the Supervision Shed.

Zhang Wenqian was sitting behind the desk in the Supervision Shed, checking the grain inventory records from yesterday.

The porter, who was actually a Mingjing Si dark agent, slipped in through the back door and hurried to the desk before he could even catch his breath.

"Deputy Governor Zhang, a fat sheep and a hungry wolf have arrived outside."

Zhang Wenqian set his brush on the inkstone and looked at the agent, who was usually responsible for tailing large tribal caravans.

"Speak clearly. What kind of background do they have that would make you use those words?"

The agent pulled a fragment of sheepskin with a rough totem drawn on it from his sleeve and handed it over.

"The young man in the black bear fur leading them claims to be the head steward of the White Wolf Tribe's caravan, but on the inside of his belt, there is half a gold-inlaid wolf-head secret pattern unique to the Right Wise King's lineage of the Rouran Royal Court."

Zhang Wenqian's gaze swept over the sheepskin fragment, and he tapped his fingers on the desk twice.

"The Right Wise King's son is running to our market pretending to be a steward. What about the other one?"

The agent continued his report while putting the sheepskin fragment back into his sleeve.

"The burly man in the old leather coat looks like a guard captain, but there is a long-standing scar on the back of his left hand that runs through to the palm, and his legs are bowed wide when he walks—that is a skeletal trait left by long-term equestrian training in the Turkic Royal Guard."

Zhang Wenqian stood up and walked to a gap in the Supervision Shed to look outside.

"The son of the Rouran Right Wise King and a special agent from the Turkic remnants are mixed in the same caravan and have come to Xiazhou. They aren't here to buy millet."

The agent peeked outside along with him.

"They brought over a hundred high-quality snow leopard pelts and dozens of catties of dog-head gold. Right now, they are picking faults with our shopkeepers outside, claiming our silk isn't smooth enough and our tea bricks aren't dense enough."

Zhang Wenqian lowered the curtain and straightened his official robes.

"Tell our people outside to keep them occupied for now and don't reveal our hand. I am going to the Governor's Mansion to see the Duke."

Half an hour later, the fire in the main hall of the Xiazhou Governor's Mansion was burning brightly.

Chen Yan was sitting in front of the massive sand table, holding a sharpened wooden stick, sketching out several supply lines leading deep into the grasslands.

Zhang Wenqian stood beside the desk and reported everything that had happened in the market from beginning to end.

Chen Yan's wooden stick paused on the sand table, the tip picking up a pinch of yellow sand representing the tribal grasslands.

"The Rouran and the Turks fought until their brains were practically spilling out during the Battle of Jinshan, yet now people from both sides are able to squeeze into the same caravan to probe Xiazhou."

Zhang Wenqian stepped forward.

"Duke, these grassland nobles are looking around in the market; it's obvious they are here to probe our bottom line, or perhaps even looking for weaknesses in our defenses to prepare for future raids."

Chen Yan threw the wooden stick onto the frame of the sand table, which made a crisp clattering sound.

"They see so much gold, silver, and grain flowing through this market every day; their greedy nature naturally can't be suppressed. It's just like mice smelling the grain store."

Zhang Wenqian looked at Chen Yan's profile.

"Should I have the Mingjing Si find an excuse to detain them when they leave the city?"

Chen Yan turned to look at Zhang Wenqian, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating chill that saw through everything.

"What is the use of detaining them? Killing them would only make Murong Hao and the Turkic remnants more vigilant, and might even force them to temporarily join forces for the sake of profit."

Zhang Wenqian's brows furrowed slightly.

"Then is it the Duke's intention to let them investigate?"

Chen Yan walked over to the fire basin and held out his hands to warm them, his finger bones appearing slender in the leaping firelight.

"Since they want to see the bottom line of Great Zhou, then let them see enough. Not only must we let them see, but we must also let them personally experience what the prosperity of Great Zhou is."

Zhang Wenqian quickly calculated the deeper meaning behind Chen Yan's words in his mind.

"Is the Duke planning to disintegrate them from within using 'sugar-coated bullets'?"

Chen Yan withdrew his hands from above the fire basin and walked back to sit behind the desk.

"The nomadic civilization is rooted in plunder and survival; they don't understand what true enjoyment is. You don't need to be the Deputy Governor today; go change into the most expensive attire you have and personally meet these big spenders."

A shrewd, merchant-like smile, typical of a businessman, appeared on Zhang Wenqian's face.

"This subordinate understands. I will go and set up the most extravagant display Xiazhou City has to offer for them."

Chen Yan picked up his tea bowl and took a sip.

"Remember, treat them as the most honorable guests under heaven. Make them feel that Xiazhou is paved with gold, and that as long as they are willing to spend money, they can buy things in Great Zhou they wouldn't even dream of in the grasslands."

Zhang Wenqian bowed and exited the main hall.

In front of the market's official counter, the Rouran noble in the black bear fur threw a bolt of high-quality Shu brocade onto the counter, the fabric hitting the wood with a dull thud.

"Do you Great Zhou merchants think you can fool the White Wolf Tribe with this kind of rough cloth? This stuff is only fit to be used as saddle pads for low-level slaves in our tribe."

The Turkic special agent standing behind him crossed his arms, his wolf-like eyes sweeping over the cowering clerks behind the counter, letting out a cold, mocking snort.

"Steward Wurigen, I told you these Han people in the south are all treacherous scoundrels. They can't produce any real goods to trade for our snow leopard pelts."

Wurigen reached out and slapped the counter, knocking the bolts of silk stacked nearby askew by half an inch.

"Call whoever is in charge here. I traveled over a thousand miles with the White Wolf Tribe's snow leopard pelts, not to look at this trash."

The shopkeeper in charge was so intimidated by the two men that beads of sweat seeped from his forehead, his mouth opening and closing several times without being able to respond.

From behind the crowd came the crisp sound of jade pendants clashing, and a fat man dressed in a dark purple Shu brocade robe, surrounded by several attendants, pushed through the onlookers.

Zhang Wenqian's attire was a treasure used by the largest silk merchant in Xiazhou City to show off his status; a mutton-fat jade pendant of excellent quality hung from his waist, and as he walked, the silk and jade rubbed together, creating a sound of overwhelming wealth.

He walked to the counter, pushed the shopkeeper aside, and put on a flawless, smiling face.

"Oh my, oh my, my subordinates lack vision and have neglected two honorable guests. I am Qian Wantuan, the Chief Commercial Officer of this Xiazhou market. I offer my apologies to you both."

Wurigen looked the fat Han merchant up and down, letting out a puff of white air from his nostrils.

"You are the one in charge? Your market looks lively, but the goods you put out aren't even as good as the markets set up in random tents on the grasslands."

Zhang Wenqian casually swept the bolt of Shu brocade off the counter and even stepped on it carelessly.

"The honorable guest is right. This kind of rotten cloth is indeed not fit for your eyes. My subordinates don't know the rules and took out this trash meant for casual customers to fool you, dirtying your hands. I will have their skins peeled off later."

The Turkic special agent stared fixedly at Zhang Wenqian's face, as if judging how much of this Han merchant was real and how much was fake.

"Since this is just to fool casual customers, does Boss Qian have anything in his hands that would catch our eyes?"

Zhang Wenqian chuckled twice, deliberately leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"You two are experts; you saw at a glance that the goods on the counter weren't top-tier. Qian won't hide it from you: how could the real top-tier goods be displayed in this wind and sand for people to pick through? You two brought over a hundred snow leopard pelts and dozens of catties of dog-head gold; this kind of scale is a top-tier deal that doesn't happen once a year in the Xiazhou market."

Wurigen's brows rose.

"You are well-informed; you know exactly what goods we brought."

Zhang Wenqian waved his hand, his thick palms fluttering in the cold wind.

"Business is business. If I didn't know when big buyers like you entered the market, I wouldn't need to sit in this seat as Chief Commercial Officer."

He pointed toward the direction of Xiazhou City.

"The wind and sand are heavy in this market, and even good things get dusty. If you two don't mind, I have prepared some light wine in the city. Let's find a quiet, warm place to sit down and look at the real top-tier goods. What do you think?"

Wurigen turned his head and exchanged a look with the Turkic special agent.

The Turkic special agent nodded slightly, a trace of an imperceptible curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

They had infiltrated Xiazhou precisely to probe the city's reality, and this Han merchant's invitation to enter the city saved them the trouble of finding an excuse.

Wurigen tightened his black bear-fur cloak, his tone still arrogant.

"Since Boss Qian is so hospitable, we will go and see what good things you Great Zhou people are hiding."

He pointed a finger at Zhang Wenqian's chest.

"If you still bring out this trash, our White Wolf Tribe's sabers won't recognize mercy."

Zhang Wenqian nodded and bowed repeatedly, turning to wave at his attendants.

"Prepare the carriages! Get the best three ready! Rest assured, honorable guests, if the things I bring out don't satisfy you, you can take my head to use as a night pot anytime."

Three luxurious carriages with thick white fox fur spread inside were parked at the market entrance. The curtains were made of double-layered brocade, blocking the wind and sound.

Wurigen lifted the curtain to peek inside the carriage, touched the white fox fur on the seat, and turned back to smile at the Turkic special agent.

"This Han merchant is certainly willing to spend money."

The Turkic special agent bent down and entered the carriage, sitting firmly on the white fox fur before placing his saber across his knees.

"Don't forget the real business. Remember why we came here."

Wurigen lifted a corner of the curtain to watch the flat official road recede outside, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Rest assured, looking is looking, eating is eating; I won't forget a single thing that needs to be recorded."

The carriages turned several corners in the city and stopped in front of a massive three-story wooden building.

Dozens of wind-proof colored glass lanterns hung from the eaves, illuminating the entire street as brightly as day. A massive black-lacquered plaque with gold characters above the door read: "Chunfeng Lou."

Zhang Wenqian jumped down from the carriage in front and trotted over to Wurigen's carriage to personally lift the heavy wind-blocking curtain.

"Honorable guests, please disembark. This is a private property of mine where I entertain top-tier big spenders. Ordinary people couldn't enter this door even with silver."

Wurigen and the Turkic special agent stepped out of the carriage, standing in the cold wind to size up the brightly lit building.

The Turkic special agent's nostrils flared twice; he smelled a strange, exotic fragrance drifting from the door cracks. The scent, a mixture of Western Region dragon saliva incense and some kind of sweet, cloying floral perfume, was particularly pungent in the cold wind, causing the blood in his body to suddenly heat up.

"What is this smell?"

Zhang Wenqian smiled until his face was a mass of wrinkles.

"This is warm incense shipped from the Southern Ocean. An ounce is worth three good horses. It makes one feel comfortable and relaxed when burned. You will know once you go inside, honorable guests."

He walked to the heavy sandalwood door carved with intricate peony patterns and pushed the door open gently.

The moment the door opened, a warm, spring-like air, heated by floor heating and laden with rich spices, rushed out to meet them.

The scene inside the door stopped the group of nobles, who were accustomed to the wind, sand, and cold of the grasslands, in their tracks.

The floor of the main hall was covered with handmade Persian wool carpets that felt so soft one's ankles would sink into them. The walls were draped with shimmering Shu brocade curtains, and the pool in the center of the hall was steaming in the dead of winter.

Over a dozen dancing girls dressed in semi-transparent light gauze were dancing gracefully on the jade steps by the edge of the pool, their gauze fluttering with their movements.

Wurigen's feet were nailed to the threshold. He swallowed hard, the arrogant facade he had been maintaining cracking open.

"This... do you Han people do business in places like this?"

Zhang Wenqian stood beside him, gesturing inside with his fan.

"You flatter me, honorable guest. This is just a small property of mine. There are even more magnificent places in Xiazhou City. You two should go inside first, drink some hot wine to warm up, and the real top-tier goods will follow."

The Turkic special agent's eyes, originally full of vigilance, were fixed on the waist of the lead dancing girl, his breathing rhythm completely disrupted, his fingers loosening their grip on the saber hilt.

Zhang Wenqian stood in the shadows of the doorway, watching these grassland nobles who had been stunned by the scene before them. The fawning, merchant-like smile on his face slowly faded, revealing something sharper than a blade underneath.