Chapter Seventy-Seven: Dismissing the Servants

He had certainly not forgotten. But now, as business partners, it was impossible for either of them to simply drive the other away.

“I haven’t forgotten, but now is not the time to discuss this,” Han Qing offered a hasty explanation, then quickly had his mother taken back home.

Since Bai Jingming had come to him of his own accord, he must have considered things thoroughly.

“What’s your plan?” Han Qing asked.

“If we set our shop’s prices at a level that ordinary folks can afford, the only way we’ll turn a profit is by selling in greater volume,” Bai Jingming replied.

It seemed he had some sense, at least not blinded by what was immediately before him. He even knew what steps needed to be taken next.

“That’s right. If you’re willing to accept that, I can help you take down the Zhao family’s shop. I was the one who helped them establish it, so naturally, I have the means to ruin them,” Han Qing said coldly, as if it were all a matter of course.

Bai Jingming felt a flicker of fear in his heart. He didn’t know whether or not to trust the man before him.

“As for you, we have neither grievance nor enmity; I have no reason to deal with you,” Han Qing continued frankly, having sensed Bai Jingming’s worry. There was no need for secrecy.

Back when the Bai family had caused trouble, Young Master Zhu had not yet returned to Beijun City. Now, Bai Jingming had been left to clean up the mess, with many debts still to be repaid. It was truly a harsh situation.

“Alright,” Han Qing nodded. Always leave a line of retreat; one never knows when it might be useful.

“Have you found any suitable fabrics? They must not be too luxurious, yet not too plain, either,” he asked slowly.

The other shook his head.

“And what about tailors with an eye for aesthetics? Ideally, those who once had their own small shops but, after failing in business, have nowhere to go now?”

In short, they needed people with experience.

“No, at present, apart from the old stock in the warehouse, we have little else. And as for the workers, they can’t leave—the Bai family signed them to lifetime contracts,” the other replied.

That was a real problem.

But there was a simple way to attract ordinary customers: protect the rights of these people.

“You can ask the servants who remain, see how many are willing to stay with you. The rest should be allowed to leave, and you don’t need to pay them anything.”

“What? That won’t do!” Bai Jingming protested in disbelief. “We spent ten taels of silver on each one; now they’ve only served a year or two and you want to let them go for nothing?”

“Can you afford to keep them all? Can you maintain them on the income from this failing cloth shop?” Han Qing’s words struck home.

Bai Jingming shook his head. He truly had no way.

“There’s no perfect solution. Letting them all go now is the best choice. Besides, your shop serves ordinary people now. They’ll be grateful to you for this,” Han Qing said calmly. The reasoning required no further explanation.

“Alright,” Bai Jingming steeled himself and dismissed many of the servants.

Some looked bewildered as their contracts were burned. They had never imagined they would be able to leave servitude one day.

“Third Young Master Bai, can we really leave?” one of the dismissed servants asked timidly.

“Yes. In the future, you can go wherever you wish. No one will demand compensation from you,” Bai Jingming replied.

This servant had never wanted to stay, but had been sold into the Bai family by misfortune. He had thought he would never be free.

“Thank you. You are truly a great benefactor!” the servant said, deeply moved.

Bai Jingming was momentarily dazed. He had never expected anyone to thank them before. The Bai family had always oppressed the local people; no one had ever spoken such words to them, only fear and dread, never heartfelt gratitude.

This solved a major worry, but the news soon reached the Zhao family.

“The Bai family has really fallen. Look at them! They can’t even support a few servants,” Uncle Zhao sneered.

Having long been suppressed, the Zhaos seized the chance to mock their rivals.

“Don’t say too much. Bai Jingming isn’t like his brothers—he’s educated. Perhaps he’s not interested in business at all,” Old Master Zhao remarked calmly, without any intention of kicking them while they were down. In fact, he thought Bai Jingming’s actions were shrewd, and might even win him a good reputation.

“Now that they’ve dismissed so many servants, the remaining cloth shop is probably useless. Tomorrow, let’s find some time to go question them?” he said coldly.

Uncle Zhao nodded. Their family’s business was about to expand again, it seemed.

The next day, he swaggered into the Bai family’s cloth shop with a look of smug satisfaction.

“Brother Bai, I hear you’ve fallen on hard times. Why not sell your business to our Zhao family? At least you’ll have some money left for your household expenses,” he said, unable to hide his glee.

It was infuriating, but Bai Jingming acted as if he heard nothing, refusing even to acknowledge Uncle Zhao.

“Bai Jingming, are you shameless?” Uncle Zhao snapped, losing patience.

“Our shop is running just fine. Are you just looking to be insulted? As for how you obtained your businesses, do I really need to say more?” Bai Jingming retorted.

He had read many books and was not about to let himself be cowed. He might not have great achievements yet, but he would not be bullied.

“Good riddance!” he said.

Uncle Zhao left in a fury, swearing that one day he would see this broken cloth shop torn down.

Yet this commotion made some of the townsfolk realize that the cloth shop was still in business. Passersby couldn’t help but pause and look inside, but saw no new products—only employees being trained.

All of this was thanks to Han Qing. After returning home, he immediately shared his ideas with Jiang Xiuxiu. The method was innovative and would surely attract customers quickly.