Chapter 109: Arriving Early at Tianjie to Witness the Market Competition

These two conditions were indeed sufficient. Since it was difficult to maintain control over the league’s operations, it was better to relinquish it in exchange for cash, along with a policy beneficial in the long run—thus safeguarding the greatest interests.

Moreover, Ye Chang was certain that after Jia Mao’er and the others withdrew, the previously united front of Wang Jin, Wang Yuanbao, and the rest would inevitably descend into internal strife. Even if they managed to maintain a facade of cooperation for a while, conflicts would erupt once their interests failed to meet expectations. At that point, they could settle accounts.

After reaching an agreement, Princess Yuzhen had Ye Chang escorted out. It was already late by then, and she allocated a courtyard for Ye Chang and his party to stay. Ye Chang found it somewhat amusing that Wei Niang and the other barbarians were also assigned quarters there.

Upon seeing Ye Chang’s arrival, Wei Niang eagerly approached and asked, “Young Lord Ye, is the matter resolved?”

Her earnest expression was quite touching. However, Ye Chang responded with a cold smile, “I have persuaded Princess Yuzhen, but as an outsider, she cannot intervene directly in court affairs. Therefore, she has instructed you all to remain here and wait for an opportunity to petition the Son of Heaven of the Tang dynasty.”

This was not a lie—it was precisely the princess’s intention. Although the Tang resolutely supported Nanzhao against the Tubo, holding several cards was always advantageous. Thus, Wei Niang and her people became bargaining chips for Tang in negotiations with Nanzhao.

Unaware of the underlying reasons, Wei Niang clasped her hands joyfully and repeatedly bowed deeply to Ye Chang, thanking him profusely.

Ye Chang did not break his promise; he had initially vowed to arrange a meeting between her and Princess Yuzhen, and now that promise was fulfilled.

“Young Lord Ye, I have an impertinent request. Since you are acquainted with Princess Yuzhen and know her preferences, please devise a plan to persuade her, and also to convince the Son of Heaven of the Tang,” Wei Niang pleaded earnestly.

This was somewhat presumptuous, though she remained polite. Ye Chang smiled and replied, “I am but a commoner. As you heard just now, Princess Yuzhen granted you an audience out of courtesy—that was a rare favor. How could I meddle in state affairs? Besides, you have journeyed thousands of miles to Chang’an with your followers; surely you have your own plans. There is no need for me to act unnecessarily.”

No matter how much Wei Niang begged, Ye Chang only smiled without responding. Since it was late and he was weary from travel, Ye Chang said he needed rest. Wei Niang had no choice but to watch helplessly as he entered his room.

“Why seek his help? I think he’s just full of ill intentions, no different from other Tang people—not truly capable,” a barbarian whispered.

“Gu Qi also said that, and ended up punished by the Tang authorities; he’s still lying in Chang’an,” Wei Niang shot him a glare. “Don’t speak nonsense or you’ll bring trouble!”

“I find this Tang man strange. To see our princess, yet remain so composed,” another barbarian murmured.

Wei Niang’s people called her “Ashima,” meaning “gold.” Among the Six Zhaos, she was famed for her beauty. Gelo Feng, eldest son of Pi Luo Pavilion, coveted her, and even the Tubo’s Zangpu had heard of her renown, requesting her for a political marriage.

The barbarians followed Wei Niang partly because of her beauty, yet it seemed ineffective before Ye Chang.

Wei Niang herself found this odd.

After staying overnight at the mansion, she awoke early the next day to find the courtyard deserted except for Du Fu, who was humming to himself before a cluster of flowers.

Surprised, Wei Niang asked, “Du Langjun, where is Young Lord Ye?”

“Oh, the eleventh lord has already left,” Du Fu said.

“How... how is that possible?” Wei Niang had spent the entire previous night contemplating how to move Ye Chang to continue supporting her. She had devised seven or eight plans, yet now he had already departed!

It felt like throwing a punch into cotton—there was no impact.

Collecting herself, she asked, “If he has gone, why are you still here, Du Langjun?”

“I have other matters,” Du Fu said expressionlessly.

His purpose in coming to Chang’an with Ye Chang was not only to observe the rituals at the Spring Pavilion but also to petition. Ye Chang had introduced him to Princess Yuzhen, and poets like Wang Wei and Wang Changling remained at the princess’s mansion. Therefore, Ye Chang advised him to stay behind to build his reputation among Chang’an’s elite.

Receiving no answers from Du Fu, Wei Niang grew anxious. She petitioned to see Princess Yuzhen but was told to wait here quietly. The attendant implied that if she lost patience and left, reentry would be difficult. Wei Niang was bewildered.

Ye Chang temporarily set aside her affairs. After another day of travel, he returned to an inn outside Chang’an’s Spring Bright Gate, where he met Jia Mao’er, who had come upon hearing the news.

“That is the situation. Princess Yuzhen need not deceive us on this matter. Mao’er, you’ve probably heard some rumors yourself,” Ye Chang said, sharing intelligence from the princess and questioning Jia Mao’er.

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Over the past year, Jia Mao’er’s life was more fulfilling than in the previous thirty-plus years.

Nurturing his body and spirit, he remained robust, yet now adorned in splendid attire, laden with gold and silver, exuding nobility. Ye Chang thought he had the air of a nouveau riche, and Jia Mao’er reveled in it.

“Wang Yuanbao—I never imagined it would be him plotting behind our backs!” Jia Mao’er was astonished by the news, as Wang Yuanbao seemed an unlikely suspect.

“Mao’er, I’ve heard of Wang Yuanbao’s reputation but never met him. Tell me about him.”

Ye Chang was never magnanimous. Wang Yuanbao’s desire to control the ball market was irrelevant until it involved him; then it was unforgivable. He would seek revenge at the earliest opportunity.

“This man is also a remarkable figure in Chang’an… Before meeting the eleventh lord, he was my greatest respect,” Jia Mao’er said seriously.

Wang Yuanbao’s original name was Wang Ergou. He made a living by trading silk from Zizhou in Shandong to Chang’an, seeking small profits along the way. One day, he was robbed and lost everything, attempting to hang himself. In his unconscious state, he encountered an immortal—a white-faced, red-robed old man—who bestowed upon him a precious ingot as capital and advised him to trade glassware in Zizhou.

Following this advice, Wang Ergou became immensely wealthy and, to honor the immortal, renamed himself Yuanbao. He frequently funded infrastructure projects and, every snowy winter, ordered servants to clear roads and offer hot food and wine to cold, hungry travelers. He was also benevolent to scholars arriving for the imperial exams, gaining a good reputation among the literati.

What a character! “I never expected that, with his vast fortune and fortune god’s favor, he would still covet the ball market…”

Jia Mao’er found it hard to accept. Ye Chang, however, was skeptical of Wang’s tale of the immortal. The so-called gift was surely ill-gotten. Moreover, merely trading glassware could not explain his immense wealth; there must be other sources. The ball market was lucrative with low competition; it was natural that a shrewd businessman like Wang Yuanbao would want to enter.

“I propose fifty thousand strings of cash. After covering everyone’s resettlement fees, I want to find a way out for those brothers willing to leave. This money can serve as capital,” Ye Chang said, hinting at his plan. “Mao’er, what do you think?”

“Why not? When we first planned the ball market, the eleventh lord said it would draw in huge daily profits and attract envy. We were prepared but didn’t expect it so soon. Fifty thousand strings for resettlement suffice for land, houses, or other ventures.”

At this, tears welled in Jia Mao’er’s eyes. He looked at Ye Chang. “I’m sorry for wasting your and Brother Xiao’s efforts.” He apologized because some underlings had been bribed by Wang Yuanbao. Ye Chang and Xiao Bolang had trusted him to manage the ball market, and the twenty-four supervisors he appointed—sixteen had been bought off without his knowledge. He shared some blame.

After discussing arrangements for the aftermath, Jia Mao’er wanted to ask if Ye Chang planned to make things difficult for Wang Yuanbao during the handover, but Ye Chang shook his head.

“Revenge is necessary, but not with such tactics. I don’t believe Wang Yuanbao can manage the ball market well.”

Hearing this, Jia Mao’er hesitated briefly.

“Speak up. Don’t hold back.”

“There will be an opportunity for revenge soon.”

Ye Chang paused, then shared a dark smile with Jia Mao’er. They understood each other perfectly.

Neither was a noble avenger waiting ten years—they were schemers from dawn to dusk.

Just moments ago, Jia Mao’er was lamenting Wang Yuanbao’s kindness; now he was plotting his downfall.

“What opportunity?”

“Do you know about the city competition?”

“City competition?”

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The so-called city competition involved merchants from two rival markets in Chang’an joining forces for a contest, often held on Tianmen Street. Each side would set up decorated pavilions on opposite sides of the street, displaying treasures and inviting renowned entertainers. Such events attracted many visitors, generating significant publicity. Of course, this benefited the winners most, but even the losers gained popularity despite losing the prize money.

“Wang Yuanbao built his fortune on glassware. Now, temples and pavilions everywhere require glass, and noble families often have glass windows…”

“Wait, you mean glass windows?”

Ye Chang nearly jumped. To someone from the future like him, glass windows were profound.

The difference between glass and colored glaze was merely composition and furnace temperature. He knew ancient China mastered glassmaking but assumed it was used only for art or tiles, never imagining glass windows existed.

“Yes, glass windows… Didn’t you see any at Princess Yuzhen’s mansion?”

Ye Chang thought hard but recalled none. Glass windows were precious; even the princess likely wouldn’t have them everywhere.

“Where is Zizhou?”

“In Henan Circuit… adjacent to Qingzhou.”

Ye Chang pondered. Zizhou should be present-day Zibo, near Qingzhou, close to where Yuan served on the road. When free, he intended to visit.

Glass was a treasured artifact for time travelers. Despite help from his brother-in-law Liu Kun, Ye Chang had yet to produce quality glass. Initially, he blamed furnace temperature, but even after several adjustments this year, they had no success.

“Enough digression. Back to the city competition. Wang Yuanbao owns four glass shops in the East Market, competing fiercely with two in the West Market. Recently, Wang challenged them to a contest on Tianmen Street, partly to determine supremacy, partly to pray for rain. It will be held five days from now.”

Five days later would be the sixth day of the sixth lunar month—“On June 6, please the aunt, watch the ancient embroiderers dry clothes and dragon robes…” It was midsummer, the hottest season, when even the ball market paused to avoid the heat. Holding a contest then was like pouring fuel on the fire.

With this news, Ye Chang did not rush back to Xiuwu. He had not planned to enter Chang’an but decided to join Jia Mao’er to experience the competition.

They first arrived at the East Market, which was larger than the entire Xiuwu county. Stalls displayed beautiful fabrics and jewels, with countless shops and signs inviting onlookers.

“Up ahead is Wang’s Glass Shop,” Jia Mao’er pointed.

According to Tang regulations, shops had prescribed sizes, but some exploited loopholes—fronts adhered to rules, but interiors extended much deeper. Wang’s glass shop was such a case, with lavish decorations showcasing its prosperity. This revealed Wang Yuanbao’s brand awareness and care for his store’s image.

Pretending to be a customer, Ye Chang entered. At the threshold, an attendant promptly greeted him with a professionalism surpassing modern standards.

Through the front, into the courtyard, he saw glassware meticulously cleaned and shining brilliantly in sunlight. Both quality and craftsmanship were top-notch.

“This Wang Yuanbao shows no arrogance despite his size. The shop’s layout is very pleasant—no wonder he stands out in Chang’an’s fierce competition…”

After a thorough look, Ye Chang’s respect for Wang Yuanbao grew. He began doubting whether he could make Wang stumble at the contest in such a short time.