Chapter 41: Shocking Drunken Words

Inside the hall, charcoal crackled in the hearth, and water droplets fell from the eaves. For a moment, even the sound of breathing grew exceptionally loud.

Tan Jiuding and Bai Tingyi—one disguised as a guard, the other posing as a companion—stood far behind Xu Qi, both breaking out in a cold sweat. Bai Tingyi, in particular, had been on pins and needles all along, terrified that something untoward might happen during the banquet, causing a disturbance and blowing their cover. The moment he heard this topic, his entire body instantly tensed up.

The new salt administration policy? Even with her noble birth, Xu Qi was merely a woman raised in the inner courtyards. Just now, racking her brains to compose a few doggerel poems had already been a stretch; how could she possibly be expected to answer questions about the new salt tax policies?

Why not simply hand out imperial civil service examination papers instead?

This so-called young Master Chen was clearly stirring up trouble on purpose.

Could he have seen through their disguise? Had their cover been blown?

Bai Tingyi inwardly cursed a blue streak, his fingernails digging into his palms, cold sweat nearly soaking through his inner garments. Terror-stricken, he stared at Pan Ji and the others, then fixed his gaze firmly on Xu Qi’s small, unmoving back. His mind echoed with a single, frantic thought: *We're done for, we're done for, we're done for...*

"The method of discounting warehouse salt? Might as well call it carving off one's flesh to heal a boil."

Eh?

Xu Qi's words drew a wave of laughter from around the table. Pan Ji smiled as well, gesturing toward her mockingly, "Don't spout nonsense if you don't understand. This is a bitter yet brilliant strategy devised by His Excellency the Grand Secretary out of his deep concern for the country and the people. How did it become carving off flesh to heal a boil in your mouth?"

Xu Qi put down her silver chopsticks. Faced with a table full of delicacies, she suddenly lost all appetite.

Lowering her voice, she slowly replied, "Wasn't young Master Chen's tone just now also three parts mocking? That shows the young master is well aware that this method can only resolve temporary crises while actually sowing three major disasters."

"Oh? Then do tell, what are these three disasters?"

"Discounting warehouse salt with rice means discounting moldy rice. Thirty percent of it is rotten grain chewed by rats and infested with bugs. Ten taels of silver in salt tax are discounted into seven taels of moldy rice, which the transport bureau then turns around and sells to the border garrisons at a markup of twenty taels. Young Master Chen should be thoroughly familiar with these under-the-table dealings, shouldn't he?"

"How audacious of you, to actually accuse Chen..."

"It's somewhat interesting. Continue." Pan Ji intercepted the guest's reprimand on her behalf and instead smiled good-naturedly.

Xu Qi swept her gaze across the people gathered at this "fireside poetry gathering." Every single one of them was over twenty, dressed in brocade and silk, and possessed of considerable status and influence. Although she could not match faces to names right away, a moment's reflection made it obvious: anyone invited to a banquet hosted by Pan Ji could hardly be a nobody.

Before his death, Huang Zhang had also been a guest of honor. Compared to them, a mere centurion was somewhat unfit for such high society. For Pan Ji to invite him must mean he had ulterior motives.

The new salt administration policy. Pan Ji was testing her.

This question was a trap whether she answered it or not. The moment she gave him an opening, Pan Ji would undoubtedly seize upon her words to use against her. Raising the new policy was nothing more to him than tossing a cricket into a jar for amusement; he didn't actually care what she had to say.

Since he didn't care... she might as well go all out and take a desperate gamble.

Xu Qi picked up her cup of wine and stood up. Walking from the foot of the table to the head, she swept her eyes across every single face, stating clearly, word by word: "His Excellency the Grand Secretary's move appears to free the imperial court from operational risks by specializing in tax collection, a measure that benefits both the state and the people. It stops merchants from drawing salt from official granaries, forcing them to purchase salt directly from the producers instead, converting the purchase price into salt tax. This supposedly prevents both private smuggling and officials lining their own pockets."

"Yet it is as illusory as flowers reflected in a mirror, merely exposing the emptiness of the national treasury. In my view, it is simply because the lords in office are anxious to feast on gold and silver."

As her voice fell, a dead silence descended. Bai Tingyi felt his scalp tingle so intensely he was left utterly paralyzed and stunned.

"As for the three disasters: First, by levying taxes in the form of discounted cash, the salt households will sooner or later find themselves with no salt to deliver. Having to pay the discounted silver while still being pursued for surplus salt is like skinning a lamb twice, front and back."

"Second, the former *Kaizhong* merchant-salt system benefited both the military and the common people. If the system is reformed and merchants substitute rice for salt, it is akin to a butcher selling needles; the common folk bring pints and peck measures asking for salt, only to receive three-tenths moldy rice instead. Sooner or later, both merchants and commoners will be driven to destitution, and destitution breeds bandits."

"Third, the brilliance of discounting warehouse salt with rice lies in the ability to fluctuate the price of rice at will. As for the hidden perils and worries, since the gentlemen gathered here around the hearth reciting poetry are all men of discernment, I surely need not explain further, do I?"

Once she finished speaking, the dropping of a pin could have been heard in the room.

Pan Ji swept his gaze across the gathering. Everyone was glaring at this conspicuous young scholar as if looking at a doomed ghost heading for the execution ground.

Yet the person in question held her head high, exuding a rather unyielding and righteous posture.

He let out a low chuckle, which was completely swallowed up by a sudden, violent crash beside him—

"Impudent! You arrogant whelp!" Cui Mao abruptly kicked over his folding stool, pointing a finger and roaring in fury. The terrified singsong girl serving them shrieked and tumbled aside. "You insolent brat, how dare you slander and discuss court politics! Guards! Seize him at once!"

At that instant, several soldiers burst through the doorway, pouncing upon Xu Qi in the center like a pack of wolves! Panic erupted among the guests, some freezing in shock while others stared in horror.

Tan Jiuding and Bai Tingyi, sweating profusely, snapped back to reality. If they didn't move now, they would never get the chance again! Just as they were about to step forward, a sharp *clang* of shattering porcelain from the upper seat on the east side abruptly halted the chaotic commotion.

A Yue ware cup smashed completely, bursting into fragments of blue and white right beside Xu Qi's feet, a flying shard grazing the back of her hand and drawing a line of blood.

Pan Ji's voice drifted over, drifting out like a freezing cavern: "What laughable nonsense. Has he been made drunk by two pots of golden dew? How tiresome. Throw him out."

Before she knew it, with the blink of an eye, Xu Qi found herself standing outside the gates of the Duiyu Wine Pavilion.

She felt somewhat dazed, the heroic fervor still surging in her chest. Looking back up at the towering wine pavilion—its three-tiered resting-mountain roof pressing down upon five layers of bluestone steps—she took a moment to collect herself. As the scratch on the back of her hand began to sting, she finally realized she had somehow managed to escape with her life.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Bai Tingyi slammed a palm against her back. With his bloodshot eyes and ashen face, he looked completely unhinged. "What kind of crazy nonsense were you spouting just then? To refute the Grand Secretary's new policy right to the face of the Commander-Assistant of the Water Transport Bureau? Do you think you have a spare head to grow back if this one gets chopped off? Tired of living?!"

Xu Qi felt a surge of irritation, thinking to herself that he was hardly one to lecture her.

Just as she was about to snap back, a servant boy hurried out from the Duiyu Wine Pavilion.

Tan Jiuding stepped forward instantly, placing himself between the servant and Xu Qi with extreme vigilance. Expecting the fellow up to no good, Tan Jiuding was taken aback when the servant immediately bowed and scraped with a fawning smile: "Young Master Zhang, please stay. My young master invites you to join him."

"Your young master? Which one?"

"Naturally, it is young Master Chen."

Hearing this, the three of them exchanged bewildered glances. What kind of game was this? Hadn't Pan Ji just had them thrown out? Why invite them back in the blink of an eye?

"My young master says that 'finest new tea' is waiting for you in the Listening Snow Pavilion on the third floor."

Inside the Listening Snow Pavilion, the charcoal brazier radiated warmth and a faint, lingering fragrance drifted through the air. It was vastly more secluded than the second floor.

As Xu Qi and the others cautiously scrutinized this bizarre private room, they heard the door click softly shut. Looking up, the person who entered was indeed Pan Ji himself.

At this moment, Pan Ji’s face was as gentle as a spring breeze, devoid of any trace of his earlier cold severity.

Instead, acting as if he had just run into an old friend, he cordially gestured toward the seats. "Won't you sit?"

"What is the meaning of this, young Master Chen?" Xu Qi dared not move an inch.

This man was utterly unpredictable. During the banquet earlier, he had seemed like a dissolute and frivolous playboy, but upon closer reflection, every single move of his seemed fraught with hidden motives.

He was likely far from as shallow and simple as he appeared on the surface.

Looking into Pan Ji's eyes felt like gazing into two bottomless pools of dark water, hiding unknown perils beneath the surface.

Pan Ji smiled faintly, gently blowing the steam from his fragrant tea before taking a sip. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you the question, 'What is the meaning of this'?"

"As a woman, you went so far as to disguise yourself and crash my poetry gathering. You must have come to me for a reason. Why don't you tell me what it is?"