Chapter 7: Manager An

[Ding! The "Save the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Character" system has been activated. Second task: Reclaim the dowry. Reward: 100 jin of potatoes, +50 Health Points.]

!

There’s such a good deal!

Tang Zhao paced back and forth in excitement, her brain spinning at high speed.

"This matter is too tricky. One wrong move and not only will I fail to retrieve my mother's dowry, but I’ll also ruin my own reputation," Tang Zhao suppressed the urge to storm the Duke of Wei’s mansion, taking several deep breaths to steady her emotions. "I still need to wait for the right moment."

Nanny Song also knew this was a difficult situation. The young lady was a junior; if the Duke of Wei’s mansion used filial piety to pressure her, she would be in the wrong even if she were in the right. It was a pity that the entire Song clan had died in battle, leaving no one to back the young lady and the eldest miss.

She had originally intended to let this matter rot in her stomach, but seeing how methodical the eldest miss had been in her conduct today—easily restraining Nanny An and forcing Song Sheng to turn—her heart couldn't help but stir with hope.

What if, just what if the young lady could really snatch the dowry back from that pack of wolves?

Tang Zhao hadn't slept soundly for several days. The mere thought of the mountain of gold that belonged to her being seized by others made her heart burn with hatred!

Chunfeng peeled a boiled egg and carefully applied it to her mistress's face, saying with heartache, "Is the young lady not sleeping well? These dark circles are frightening to look at."

There was no help for it. The Duke of Wei’s mansion spent money like water—feasting today, booking venues for polo matches tomorrow—and it was all her money they were spending!

Hers!

Tang Zhao’s brows were tightly locked as she suppressed her overflowing frustration. "How is it on Song Sheng’s side? Any news?"

Dongmei, who was responsible for following up on the matter, replied immediately, "Not yet."

"And Nanny An? Is she still sending messages out?"

"She is. The guard intercepted a carrier pigeon in the alley outside the mansion. Following your instructions, I had young Bai Cheng imitate the handwriting and sent a new note back with the pigeon."

Bidan Courtyard was full of hidden talents. Although Bai Cheng was only a second-class servant, he had a knack for imitating handwriting; it was easy to fool uneducated people like Nanny An and Steward An.

"Tell them to be careful. They must not alert the enemy," Tang Zhao cautioned.

Dongmei responded with a serious expression.

At the same time, in the backyard of the Cloth Workshop.

A woman wearing thin winter clothes brought a freshly brewed bowl of medicine into the room to serve the man lying on the kang.

Zhao Sheng’s face twisted in bitterness, and he hurriedly ate three or four candied fruits to mask the taste.

"That eldest miss is too ruthless. She ordered a beating just like that. Even the Madam doesn't put on such airs in the mansion," the Zhao woman fumed, stomping her feet as she looked at her husband’s bloodied back. "When I enter the mansion later this month, see if I don't lodge a formal complaint against her before the Madam. Does she really think she’s the mistress of the house just because she got married?!"

"Just keep quiet," Zhao Sheng said, his back throbbing with pain. He was terrified, yet still had to soothe his arrogant wife. "The eldest miss is no longer who she used to be. I’m afraid even the Madam wouldn't be able to deal with her easily!"

The woman sneered, "You’re afraid of her, but I’m not!"

While still some distance from the backyard, Steward An heard the two arguing inside. He waited for a while, but the noise showed no sign of stopping; instead, it grew more intense.

Steward An frowned and gave a heavy cough. The arguing stopped abruptly.

When the woman came out and saw it was Steward An, she hurriedly smiled apologetically. "Why has Steward An come? Please, come in."

Steward An walked straight into the room, his brow furrowing further at the heavy scent of medicine. "Was he really beaten?"

The eldest miss was truly lacking in discretion, daring to beat a capable steward serving the Madam just like that.

Zhao Sheng gave a bitter smile. "As you can see, Steward, I received twenty strokes."

Zhao Sheng didn't even dare to imagine what would have happened if he hadn't turned sides in time—if he had taken all twenty strokes, he might not have survived!

"What happened? Did the lies you fabricated show any flaws?" Steward An asked, displeased.

"I didn't even have a chance to speak," Zhao Sheng reported truthfully. "I don't know how the eldest miss saw from the account books that the Liaozhou Cloth Workshop had a large order of over a hundred taels under our shop. I wasn't prepared, so I had to lie and say the caravan accidentally burned the fabric while transporting it, failing to deliver on time, and that we needed to pay a penalty of one thousand taels."

Steward An listened carefully.

"The fake account book I handed over showed a profit of two hundred and seventy taels for this year. After deducting the fifty taels for normal operations, it was exactly eight hundred taels short."

That was the amount Steward An had instructed him to retrieve from the eldest miss.

"I anticipated the eldest miss would be unhappy and might not want to pay, but who would have thought she would fly into a rage, berating me for being useless, and drag me off to be beaten twenty times without another word."

Zhao Sheng trembled all over, weeping, "The Prince’s guards showed no mercy. After a few strokes, I was covered in wounds."

"Didn't Nanny An try to persuade her?"

"She did, but the eldest miss wouldn't listen. She even slapped Nanny An hard, so Nanny An didn't dare to say anything more."

Steward An suppressed his anger. "How did you escape?"

Zhao Sheng didn't dare say he had been caught in the act—that would truly be courting death!

"I told her that I would take full responsibility for the remaining eight hundred taels of debt and ensure it wouldn't damage the reputation of the Cloth Workshop."

Steward An was expressionless. "How will you take full responsibility?"

Zhao Sheng hurriedly promised, "I have saved up quite a bit of money over the years. If I grit my teeth and scrape it together, it will be enough. I won't touch a single copper from the Cloth Workshop!"

Hmph! Steward An was satisfied. Although Zhao Sheng’s savings were all skimmed from the shop, water that is too clear has no fish; if you want your subordinates to work loyally, you have to turn a blind eye to some financial matters.

Not to mention, which shop didn't have this kind of thing?

It just depended on whether they were greedy for a lot or a little.

Having managed the household for so many years, Steward An had watched coldly, and among the group, Zhao Sheng was considered one of the less greedy ones.

"Let this be a warning. In the future, you and I must be more careful. Remember, do not leave behind even the slightest handle."

Zhao Sheng knew the matter was considered settled and let out a long sigh of relief. "I understand, Steward."

After giving his warning, Steward An turned and left the Cloth Workshop.

The servant waiting outside followed behind him. At a corner, a small sedan chair was parked. The servant waited for Steward An to sit inside before handing over the note he had just received.

The note detailed the same events Zhao Sheng had described. After reading it, Steward An’s heart, which had been hanging in his chest, finally settled.

It seemed he had overestimated that eldest miss; she was just a brainless fool who only knew how to use force.

He had originally planned to visit the Prince’s mansion to see her, but now he saw no need.

"Return to the mansion."

He should also report the results of his month-long inspection to the Madam.

In the backyard of the Cloth Workshop, seeing Zhao Sheng lying on the bed playing dead, the woman grew angry again and went back to her own room to rest, grumbling all the way.

As soon as she left, a guard dressed in black appeared silently before Zhao Sheng.

"By order of the Young Mistress, I have come to collect the account books."

Zhao Sheng scrambled up, trembling, and rummaged through the cabinet for a long time before handing the real account books he had been copying over the past few days to the guard in black.

(End of chapter)