Chapter Sixty-Two: The Grand Auction

The Bai family was now under investigation, and no one dared to associate with them any longer. In stark contrast, the Zhao family’s business was flourishing more than ever, their doors besieged by visitors, bustling with activity. This formed a sharp dichotomy with the Bai family’s current isolation.

“It seems the winds are about to change in North County City,” Young Master Zhu mused, but then he shook his head. “No, the winds won’t change. At most, the Zhao family will gain some new businesses, but what truly threatens the Bai family is more than just this.”

Indeed, though the Bai family’s gambling house was in trouble, they still owned other enterprises and maintained trade with nearby cities. It was wise to act with caution.

Just as the two finished their discussion, an esteemed guest arrived.

“Master Zhao, what brings you to see the two of us in your leisure?” Young Master Zhu teased, surprised that Zhao could slip away from his own crowded household.

“Please, don’t make fun of me,” Zhao replied, wearing a look of vexation. “I’m here on behalf of my father. In a few days, we intend to host an auction in the city, and hope you both will attend?”

“Wasn’t it always the Bai family that organized this event in previous years?” Han Qing interjected.

“The Bai family no longer dares to involve themselves in such matters,” Zhao answered with pride, clearly having coveted this opportunity for some time. “So the old master thought our family might as well take over. After all, the whole city stands to benefit.”

“Very well, we understand,” Young Master Zhu cut in promptly, wary of delving into sensitive topics since their relationship with the Zhao family was not particularly close.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

“We shall,” Han Qing nodded. He’d never had such an opportunity before, never having been invited. After all, these auctions were strictly for merchants; scholars were rarely considered worthy, and most of them looked down on such gatherings anyway.

“I wonder what new spectacles this year’s auction will bring?” Young Master Zhu pondered aloud. In the past, while rare treasures were put on display, the main purpose was always profit—merchants, after all, valued gain above all.

When Second Master Bai heard these rumors, he smashed the teacup in his hand in fury.

“So the Zhao family thinks they can rise above us just like that? Our troubles are nothing but slander, yet they want to monopolize the annual auction? Ridiculous!” His anger was palpable, but he was powerless to act.

“Master, I’ve heard Han Qing might attend this year’s auction. If any action is to be taken, wouldn’t such a chaotic occasion be perfect?” a servant suggested.

Indeed, such a tumultuous scene offered the perfect cover for mischief, with no need to worry about propriety.

“I understand,” Second Master Bai replied, already plotting a scheme to shift all blame onto the Zhao family, so no one would suspect him.

It was a fine plan, but who could predict what would happen once the event began?

Meanwhile, Magistrate Wang kept postponing the case, letting it languish for days. Zhi Lan submitted several petitions, but each was rebuffed, leaving her disheartened.

“Master Han, the evidence is clear, so why won’t Magistrate Wang acknowledge the truth?” she asked.

“My lady, it is only your word. We are inclined to believe you, but Magistrate Wang may have other concerns,” Young Master Zhu replied gently, trying to reassure her.

Too much time had passed; the true culprit was dead. If everything pointed to the Bai family, they would have no defense, but with only Zhi Lan’s testimony and no living perpetrator to confirm her story, no one dared pass judgment.

“Does that mean my family died in vain?” she cried.

“No. It just means it will take more time. That’s why Han Qing advised you to spread word of the case, not rush to petition the court,” Zhu explained.

But Zhi Lan had not heeded this advice. Her petition had stirred the city, forcing the court’s hand to appoint an imperial investigator. The case would be investigated and public anger appeased—but as for a verdict, that would not come quickly.

“So now there’s nothing we can do?” she asked.

“Don’t ask me; I truly don’t know,” Zhu replied. He could offer only empty comfort; the real breakthrough depended on Han Qing, who lately wanted nothing to do with Drunken Flower Pavilion. Consequences must be borne for disrupting his plans. As both sides dug in, right and wrong faded into the background.

Zhi Lan was left helpless.

The auction began. The Zhao residence filled with merchants from every industry—many Han Qing had never seen before. Most greeted each other with polite pleasantries.

“Look over there—those few are practically glued to Master Zhao,” someone remarked, pointing out several merchants laughing and chatting with Zhao, likely discussing business deals. As a salt merchant, Han Qing found himself isolated; no one wished to be tainted by illicit dealings.

“It’s an honor for our Zhao family to host this year’s event,” Zhao announced. “Here are all the items up for auction. If any catch your eye, feel free to bid.”

Most of the items on display were jade or antiques, fit for display in one’s home. Han Qing surveyed them but found nothing of interest.

“Brother Han, how about that fine piece of jade, or the carved jade screen? Exquisite, aren’t they?” Young Master Zhu admired a few items—they were indeed valuable, but felt somewhat vulgar.

“I have no particular interest. You could contend for them, but with so many people over there, you’ll have to raise your bid,” Han Qing replied.

Zhu glanced over—seven or eight people had already gathered around the jade, making it difficult to compete.

Han Qing, meanwhile, sat calmly in the rear garden, sipping tea. Just as he was beginning to lose interest, he noticed a stone by the pond that caught his eye. It seemed ordinary, yet Han Qing had a sense it might be worth something.

He asked a Zhao family servant, “Is that stone for sale?”

The servant was taken aback, never expecting a distinguished guest to show interest in such an unremarkable stone.

“Sir, I’ll inquire with the master,” the servant replied, quickly hurrying off.

In less than a quarter of an hour, Master Zhao arrived in haste.

“Brother Han, what is the meaning of this? Are you mocking us by picking out a mere stone?” Zhao’s face was dark, suspecting Han Qing of ridiculing the lack of valuable items at the auction.

“Brother Zhao, you misunderstand. I truly have my eye on that stone,” Han Qing replied.