Chapter Forty-Eight: A Request for Help

After this incident, his reputation in Beijun City soared, drawing the attention of the noble scions who all vied to befriend him.

But, naturally, some people were displeased.

Several of the city’s medical halls, upon hearing that a man of little repute had damaged their standing, had already nursed a grudge against him.

Three of those establishments even joined forces.

Were they afraid Han Qing would open his own medical practice?

That he would take away all the patients they had managed to attract?

“Brother Han, your recent deeds have truly stirred envy in my heart. Who would have thought you’d possess such talents?” Young Master Zhu remarked, his tone laden with a barely concealed probing.

“It’s not as remarkable as you make it sound,” Han Qing replied calmly.

He was more concerned with how best to deal with the Bai family.

That clan was indeed troublesome, their eyes fixed on his salt-making method. It was hard to say whether they were simply witless, or just too foolish for their own good.

In recent days, however, Old Master Zhao seemed to value him highly, having visited two or three times already.

Each time, he brought precious gifts. Han Qing had intended to refuse, but the old gentleman insisted that, having once saved his life, it would be an insult to the Zhao family if they offered no token of gratitude.

The proper courtesies could not be omitted.

“Old Master Zhao, you’ve already been here three days. If your intention was to thank me, you’ve done so and we’ve accepted your gifts. There’s no need for further visits,” Han Qing said, somewhat helplessly.

He did not wish to speak too harshly to an elder.

“Master Han, in all my years I’ve admired few people, but upon learning of your recent circumstances, I was truly astonished. Would you consider teaching my unworthy sons?” the old man asked.

Oh? Did he want him to become a tutor?

That hardly made sense.

He had only studied for a few years without any real accomplishment.

“I am but a scholar with no distinction. I am unfit to take on the role of a teacher,” Han Qing refused at once.

But the old man shook his head.

“That’s not it. The family business must eventually be handed to the next generation, but as you know, none of my sons have any talent for it.”

Oh? Did he want him to act as some sort of manager?

Did they not have their own stewards?

“You would entrust the Zhao family business to an outsider like me?”

Who would believe such a thing?

In truth, the old master simply wished him to help guide his disappointing sons, to see if they could be salvaged.

“It’s said that the storybook shop and Drunken Blossom Pavilion both benefitted from your hand. If you could also lend your expertise to our Zhao Cloth House, I could die without regret,” the old man said with a chuckle.

He certainly had foresight. No wonder he was able to dominate half the city’s industry over the decades—his methods were countless.

“I can help you, but how much of the profits are we talking about? That must be made clear,” Han Qing said, unwilling to forgo such a lucrative opportunity.

It depended on what the old man was willing to pay.

The Zhao family’s standing in Beijun City was not to be underestimated. Besides the Zhao family, only they dared challenge the Bai family.

“Price is not an issue. We only hope to secure this year’s imperial merchant quota,” the old man replied.

Using him, were they? They were certainly overestimating his abilities.

“Bai family’s silks have long been among the imperial merchants supplying the capital. Our Zhao family has competed for years, only to be suppressed again and again,” the old man said bitterly, clearly indignant.

By rights, their fabrics were first-class.

Yet the Bai family always gained the upper hand.

“So, what do you propose?”

If the path to becoming imperial merchants was blocked, surely, they could find an alternative—at least expand the channels for their silks and fabrics.

“I hope you can help devise a strategy. If you agree, you’ll have a say in the affairs of Zhao Cloth House,” the old master said.

But Han Qing wanted more than that.

“For Zhao Cloth House, I want a three percent share of the annual dividends,” he stated.

The old man was stunned.

This young man was bold, asking for so much outright. Was he not afraid of being refused?

“If you think it unreasonable, then there’s no need to seek my help,” Han Qing said, cutting off all retreat.

He truly was a worthy opponent, the old master thought. Good thing he was born a few years earlier—otherwise, with Han Qing around, there’d be nothing left of him.

“Very well,” the old man agreed, hardening his resolve.

High risks, after all, bring high rewards.

Though the winds at the crest are fierce, only a kite that flies free can soar the highest.

For now, Han Qing took over the management of Zhao Cloth House. His first step was to review the accounts of recent years and compare profits and losses on cloth purchases.

Indeed, profits were thin.

And in their pursuit of the imperial merchant quota, they had spent heavily, draining their finances.

Yet, the results were unsatisfactory.

“With your help, Brother Han, our troubles will be over,” Zhao Chengzhang said excitedly.

He had been nagged by the old master day and night, and wondered what the future would hold.

He hadn’t expected the old man to actually find him a helper.

“Just how much capital can you mobilize?” Han Qing asked.

The question caught Zhao Chengzhang off guard.

This was not what he had expected.

“I can use whatever remains in the accounts,” he replied uncertainly, puzzled by Han Qing’s intent.

“You’re not planning to take all of it, are you? The old master wants you to assist, not to empty the coffers,” he blurted out.

He truly could not grasp what Han Qing meant.

“Change your approach. Don’t just make one type of silk garment. Why not try combining them?” Han Qing suggested.

“What?” Zhao Chengzhang was baffled.

Since he didn’t understand, Han Qing saw no need to elaborate further. It was always best if the other party could grasp the point themselves.

Most of their ready-made clothing shops recommended only a single style to customers. Yet, some smaller merchants could offer lower prices.

So why should customers choose them?

Without innovation, there was no way to attract clients.

“Mixing fabrics is one thing, but will the locals accept it? What if, after investing heavily, we end up losing everything?” Zhao Chengzhang worried. He also had several ambitious uncles watching for any sign of weakness.

If he failed, the family business could collapse entirely.

“No, your clothing stores need a major transformation,” Han Qing said, offering only a hint.

The Zhao family’s concerns were clear, so this matter would require careful deliberation.