Triumph in Her Rise and Love

An afternoon torrential storm suddenly appeared, blowing away the summer's heat, and also toppled the filial mourning tent outside the memorial hall, drenching the monks and Taoists who were reciting sutras beneath it into drenched chickens.

The steward in charge of the Song Family's funeral arrangements shouted loudly, at one moment asking this servant boy to clean out the east wing room to accommodate the scripture-reading monks and Taoists; at another moment sending another servant boy to buy new monk robes and Taoist robes for the clergy to change into; and sometimes instructing the coarse-working maid to make ginger tea and serve refreshments, even calling in painters to rebuild the filial mourning tent... directing the maids busily in circles.

The courtyard was noisy and bustling, filled with a cacophony of voices.

Contrastingly, the study room of Second Old Master Song next door, perhaps because its master was no longer present, lacked even a guard for the not large courtyard, and the lush and dense garden no longer had its usual prosperity, looking cold and exceptionally tranquil.

Song Jiyun lowered her eyelids and stood in the middle of the courtyard for a moment, then slowly pushed open the black lacquer longevity-patterned door and walked in gradually.

The study room was still as it had always been.

The large desk of yellow rosewood, the black lacquer mother-of-pearl inlaid curio shelves, the prosperity-bringing blue and white porcelain wall screen, the celestial blue crackling Ru Kiln flower holder with a purple heartwood horse tail whisk.

But they had all gathered a thin layer of dust.

Song Jiyun's fingertips brushed past, leaving a clear streak.

Her father's warm and sturdy voice echoed in her ears.

"Yun Duo, come, daddy will teach you how to hold a pen. You are to be a painter in the future, one who paints large dragon jars!"

"Yun Duo, you can't be distracted when learning the abacus. If your abacus skills aren't good, how will you calculate accounts? How will you understand the account books? How will you help daddy manage the stores and fields?"

"Yun Duo, cheer up! Once we make this hand-pressed cup, I'll fire it in the kiln. Then it'll be a birthday gift for daddy, alright?"

Song Jiyun, covering her mouth, cried silently.

In her previous life, she had become the eldest daughter of this family.

Before this, she had just endured a prolonged and immense struggle for family inheritance rights.

Although she emerged as the final victor, the ruthless, treacherous, ungrateful, and vindictive faces of family members—parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, relatives, and friends—all for personal gain, were deeply imprinted in her mind.

She didn't want to live another life at all.

Resisting starting over.

But the father of this life warmed her cold heart bit by bit with his doting, warmth, tolerance, and generosity.

Gradually, she became integrated into this family, into this new life.

Yet just at this moment, her father passed away suddenly.

He died on the way home from checking accounts.

The carriage was just arriving at the house when the accompanying steward discovered it.

He neither had relatives to send him off nor left any last words.

It was even unknown exactly when he had passed.

She cried uncontrollably.

Outside, a hesitant knocking sound came through the door.

Song Jiyun dried her tears and stood up straight and dignified, like a pine tree, and calmly commanded, "Come in!"

Her foster brother, Zheng Quan, entered, respectfully saluted her, and said, "Miss, you called for me, what are your orders?"

Song Jiyun sat in the Taishi Chair where her father used to sit when meeting subordinates, slipped off the azure-stone silver ring from her middle finger, and handed it to Zheng Quan, speaking softly, "Take this ring and immediately set off for the Poyang Lake docks to find the Store Manager of the Suzhou main store, and retrieve a sunflower-patterned box with carmine lacquer animal patterns from him; it should contain eight hundred thousand taels in silver notes."

"Ah!" Zheng Quan gasped, his gaze full of astonishment.

He was one of Jiyun Song's most trusted people, so naturally, she intended no concealment when she said, "While the news of my father's death has not yet spread, I asked the Store Manager in Suzhou to liquidate all of my father's businesses in Suzhou, Hangzhou, Yangzhou, and other places.

"I estimate that there should be around one million taels.

"But we can't let the horse run without letting it graze. You just need to retrieve eight hundred thousand taels. The rest can be considered as a service fee for the Store Manager.

"The Store Manager will also change his name and flee far away, never to return."

After finishing, she instructed Zheng Quan, "If the figures are not correct, do not argue with him. Just tell him, 'The mountains remain unchanged, and we'll meet again.'

"If the figures are correct, tell him I remember his kindness, and should anything arise that requires the Song family to vouch for him, I will definitely not refuse.

"If there is more than eight hundred thousand taels, return the excess to the Store Manager. Tell him, 'Great kindness goes unthanked; as long as Jiyun Song lives, he shall too.'"

"If, however, you can't find him," Jiyun Song mused, pushing a scroll and a name card toward Zheng Quan, "take this name card and portrait to the authorities and report that he has absconded with the owner's property, betraying his trust. Also, tell the authorities precisely how much silver he has taken.

"One million taels is enough to make the governmental authorities exert effort."

No one would come out unscathed in such a devastating confrontation.

Zheng Quan, sweating profusely, nodded repeatedly. Afraid he might not remember everything, he repeated Jiyun Song's words twice, ensuring there were no errors, then he finally let out a long sigh of relief.

Jiyun Song said, "Hurry there and back. I also plan to convert my father's properties in Nanchang, Shangrao, and other places into silver, and you might have to make a trip to Nanchang, Shangrao, and other places soon."

Zheng Quan was already dizzy with confusion.

Second Old Master had dealt with the secretive businesses well, but how to manage those vast lands that couldn't be carried away or contained?

He scratched his head.

Jiyun Song said, "We'll discuss this when you return. The important thing is that you come back quickly. The longer this drags on, the less advantageous it is for us."

No sooner had she spoken than a sudden "crack" of someone stepping on a broken branch came from outside the study room.

The faces of Jiyun Song and Zheng Quan blanched. By the time she had stood up, Zheng Quan had already dashed out like a streak of lightning.

Sounds of a fistfight followed from outside.

Jiyun Song frowned.

Zheng Quan was a gift from her father; from a young age, he had innate strength, which led his father to send him to train in martial arts at Dragon Tiger Mountain. When he came down from the mountain, Zheng Quan's master was very reluctant to let him go, praising his exceptional talent and lamenting that it was a pity for such a skilled individual to serve as a servant, even suggesting to redeem him.

The Song family owed a life-saving debt to the Zheng Family, so naturally, Zheng Quan refused.

Jiyun Song's father had given her the indenture of the Zheng Family's servitude, instructing her to find an opportunity to favor the Zheng family by granting them their freedom to protect her interests.

She knew better than anyone else what Zheng Quan was capable of.

Anyone who could exchange a few blows with him would not be of meager skill.

Jiyun Song watched from the doorway.

Under the wisteria arbor, a young man in a dark cyan fine cloth Taoist robe, wearing a hairnet, stood confronting Zheng Quan.

He appeared to be only about twenty-one or twenty-two years old, almost as tall as the eight-feet-tall Zheng Quan, with pale, jade-like skin, thin lips, a prominent nose, and unusually large, bright eyes with slightly upturned corners, giving him an extraordinary handsomeness.

However, his gaze was piercing, immediately signaling that he was not an easy person to deal with.

As the wind blew through the arbor, wisteria blossoms fell upon his shoulder.