Chapter Twenty-Six: The Cunning Third Uncle

On May 26th, Bianjing welcomed the early summer. Though the flowers had begun to fade, the greenery was lush and vibrant. Yujing Garden and Happy Woods, located in the southeastern corner, were bustling with a constant stream of visitors, and the main streets were teeming with activity.

Shen Jifeng chose a somewhat secluded blacksmith shop to purchase two iron shovels for digging, taking the opportunity to inquire with the smith.

"Uncle, do you sell lead here? My mother’s pewter wine pot at home is leaking. I went to a shop to have it repaired, but they said they were out of lead and told me to find another way."

"Oh, my." The blacksmith’s swarthy face shone under the glow of the furnace. "I don’t know what’s going on, but lead has suddenly become in high demand. I suggest you stop trying to fix it and just buy a new one; otherwise, the price of new wine pots will go up in a few days too."

"The thing is, the pot was left to me by my mother. She’s gone now, and I just want to keep it as a memento." Shen Jifeng lied without skipping a beat.

"I see." The blacksmith, seeing her so young and motherless, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. "Then you’d better wait a while to repair it. Once lead arrives from out of town, it should be fine. I’d say give it a month or so."

"I suppose so." Shen Jifeng looked utterly disappointed. "I wonder who has so much money to burn, buying up all the lead in the city? What could they possibly be doing with it? Surely, it’s not some wealthy family fixing their roof?"

"You’d be surprised. The people who came the other day were clearly servants from a rich household. My shop had three or four hundred jin of lead, and seven or eight of them came at once and bought it all, sticking strictly to the fifty-jin limit."

Shen Jifeng felt a surge of frustration. That had been her plan exactly. It wouldn't have mattered if she couldn't buy it in bulk; there were hundreds of shops in Bianjing that carried lead. By accumulating small amounts—buying fifty jin from each—she could have easily gathered five thousand jin.

Who on earth was so heartless as to steal her idea?

"Qiufeng, go investigate who is buying up all the lead in the city! I want to see what their intentions are!"

Shen Jifeng hopped into her carriage, puffing with indignation like a hamster stuffed with nuts.

Jinchai, noticing that Shen Jifeng’s favorite spicy pig trotters were just two streets away, suggested they go buy some to cheer her up. Shen Jifeng agreed absentmindedly.

In the blink of an eye, only she and Wei Xiao remained in the carriage.

Beside the carriage stood a teahouse. Because of its secluded location, it was rarely visited. Shen Jifeng looked up out of sheer boredom, and in that glance, she spotted a familiar face. She had no intention of greeting him; in private settings, there was no need for formalities.

Strange, though, was that a quarter of an hour later, the Third Imperial Uncle arrived at the teahouse. A Princess of Chu and a Prince of Yan meeting in a teahouse—it seemed highly suspicious.

"We’re going up quietly," Shen Jifeng signaled to Wei Xiao.

Inside the private room, the Princess of Chu froze as the Prince of Yan stepped over the threshold.

"Why are you here?"

"Are you all right?" The Prince of Yan glanced at her slightly protruding belly. "Have you taken the fetal-calming medicine I brought back from the Miao territory? Has it been effective?"

His voice was as tender as a ripened plum in June, so soft it seemed it could melt.

Shen Jifeng’s eyes widened to twice their usual size. She looked at Wei Xiao—there was definitely something fishy going on between them.

The Princess of Chu leaned on her maid’s arm and slowly stood up. "My thanks to Your Highness, the Prince of Han, for your concern. I shall take my leave now."

"Xingrong, if I had petitioned the Emperor sooner, would everything be different now?"

The Princess of Chu offered a faint smile. "Your Highness is joking. Today was a mere coincidence. Please, in the future, address me as your Second Sister-in-law."

With that, she turned and left the room without a backward glance, supported by her maid. As she crossed the threshold, Shen Jifeng clearly saw a tear hanging from the corner of her eye.

Her Third Uncle was in love with her Second Aunt, and her Second Aunt felt the same. What a scandalous drama!

In the room, Zhao Zheng suddenly revealed his left hand, which he had been keeping hidden in his sleeve. "Heh, heh, heh!"

His laughter was tinged with madness, yet his eyes were filled with profound sorrow.

"Six fingers... ha, a freak of nature, a monster even my own flesh and blood loathes." He stared at his deformed fingers, his voice raspy. "I thought you would be disgusted by me, so I dared not reveal my heart. It’s all my fault, all my fault..."

Zhao Zheng had always hidden his left hand well, never revealing it in public. This was the first time Shen Jifeng had seen it. It was just a sixth finger; surely, having one more was better than having one less.

Shen Jifeng waited until Prince Han, Zhao Zheng, had departed before she dared to show herself. She warned Wei Xiao, "If you don't want to die, bury what you just heard deep in your stomach, do you hear me?"

Wei Xiao had never met Zhao Zheng before, but he had encountered the Prince of Chu, Zhao Jian, a few times. "Was that the Princess’s Third Uncle and Second Aunt?"

Shen Jifeng grabbed Wei Xiao by the collar. Because of the vast height difference, the scene was rather comical. "The public can be cruel. Even ordinary families wouldn't accept such a thing, let alone the Imperial family. They didn't do anything inappropriate; it’s best for everyone if we act as if we saw nothing."

"I understand." Wei Xiao gently pulled Shen Jifeng’s arm away. Shen Jifeng suddenly noticed that his hand was missing a little finger—the exact opposite of her Third Uncle’s!

Shen Jifeng grabbed his hand. She hadn't noticed it before, and for a moment, she thought she had seen wrong.

Wei Xiao’s finger had clearly been severed; it was not a congenital defect.

"Did you get injured? When did this happen?"

"Oh." Wei Xiao curled his fingers, looking indifferent. "Nearly two years ago, I suppose. Just an accident."

Shen Jifeng wanted to press further, but Jinchai returned with the spicy trotters. Zhang’s spicy pig trotters were famous in Bianjing, and they were a perfect match for green plum wine.

Just as the three of them were tucking in, a servant approached and bowed. He claimed to be from the Prince of Yan’s household and invited Shen Jifeng to a teahouse on the previous street for a chat.

Shen Jifeng and Wei Xiao exchanged a look. Could they have been discovered?

The fragility and madness were gone, replaced by the warm, smiling countenance of the Prince of Yan. Wei Xiao and Jinchai stood like temple guardians, shielding Shen Jifeng between them. Zhao Zheng glanced at Wei Xiao, noticing that he was a stranger, not one of the original guards from the Prince of Qi’s estate.

He pushed a bowl of iced crushed-ice dessert toward Shen Jifeng. "A new item from the shop. It’s refreshing and good for the heat."

"Third Uncle, you asked me to come—is there something you need?"

Zhao Zheng fanned himself, smiling as gently as a spring breeze. "I heard that Yanru has been buying up lead all over the city. I happen to have some in my hands. How about we make a deal?"

Shen Jifeng’s heart skipped a beat. So he was the one who had bought all the lead!

"I only discovered yesterday that there was an issue with the lead in my warehouse. You managed to acquire all the lead in the city beforehand. Third Uncle, when did you learn to foresee the future? As your niece, I had no idea."

"It’s just business, isn't it?" Zhao Zheng chuckled. "Three parts gambling and a little bit of foresight. It’s not as profound as predicting the future."

"And how does Third Uncle propose we handle this business?"

"It’s simple. I will provide all the lead from now on. In addition, any capital needed for the mines, or anything else you find difficult or inconvenient to handle personally, can be left to me. I’ll take a twenty-percent stake."

Zhao Zheng closed his fan, set it aside, and asked softly, "What do you say?"