The Proprietor

"You bastard! Is Little Cheng a name you get to call him?"

A sharp rebuke exploded from beneath the distant eaves. Zhang Ping rushed over in three strides that became two.

"Brother A-Cheng, the people below have loose tongues. Please, don't take it to heart!"

Before his words had even faded, he abruptly turned toward the dumbstruck Gou Fu, the smile on his face instantly freezing into icy shards.

"What are you standing there gaping for!? Like a dead block of wood! Why aren't you hurrying up and apologizing to Brother A-Cheng!?"

Zhang Ping was the steward in charge of the firm's menial workers. Whenever Gou Fu saw him, it was like a mouse seeing a cat. His neck shrank sharply, sweat beaded at his temples, and his knees weakened so badly he nearly dropped to them.

"Steward Zhang, Da Gou is my friend. You needn't blame him."

Chen Cheng's tone was calm, betraying neither joy nor anger.

"From now on, I'll have to trouble you to look after Da Gou a little, for the sake of this thin bit of face of mine. I'll thank you on his behalf first."

"Ah? This... look at the fuss this has caused..."

Zhang Ping gave an embarrassed laugh. When he looked at Gou Fu again, his attitude performed another complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.

"Da Gou, you've got this kind of relationship with Brother A-Cheng, so why didn't you tell me earlier? If you'd said so sooner, could I, as your elder brother, have failed to take care of you? Honestly!"

Watching Zhang Ping's expression change again and again, then looking at the calm, unruffled Chen Cheng beside him, Gou Fu's head buzzed. His mouth hung open, yet he could not squeeze out a single word.

"Da Gou, go get on with your work. I have other matters to handle today," Chen Cheng said.

"All right... you, you go ahead with your business..." Gou Fu swallowed and quickly retreated.

"Steward Zhang."

Chen Cheng glanced sideways at him.

"Has the firm recently been recruiting Martial Artists for affiliated positions?"

"Affiliated positions? We are!"

Zhang Ping lowered his voice.

"Didn't Zhao Shan die? Elder Wen, the resident consecrated expert who used to hold the fort for the firm, had to step in at the last minute and left the city with the merchant caravan... Right now, The Proprietor is looking to recruit someone to fill Elder Wen's vacancy..."

"How much was Elder Wen paid each month before?" Chen Cheng asked.

"I'll let you in on something, but you absolutely can't say I told you..."

Zhang Ping looked around to either side and lowered his voice even further.

"Elder Wen received eight taels of silver in cash every month, full weight and full purity! Zhao Shan and the other full-time guards only got three taels. Even if they doubled that while escorting caravans out of the city, they still couldn't touch Elder Wen's level..."

"That much of a difference?" Chen Cheng's brow twitched slightly.

Zhang Ping nodded heavily and explained.

"I heard Elder Wen is an old consecrated expert sent over from The Proprietor's main family. He watched The Proprietor grow up, so their bond is different... More importantly, he can hold the field. Even Head Pot-Master Zhao has to give the old man some face."

"...I understand."

Chen Cheng said calmly, "Please trouble yourself, Steward Zhang, and pass word to The Proprietor. Tell her I'm here to take this position."

"You?"

Zhang Ping froze for a moment.

"Brother A-Cheng, to take an affiliated position, you have to at least be a proper Martial Artist who has cultivated One-Incense Blood Qi... Besides, disciples of Longshan Lower Academy carry Death-Pledge Contracts and aren't allowed to take outside affiliated positions..."

Zhang Ping's voice came to an abrupt halt.

Because Chen Cheng silently raised a hand and casually lifted a corner of the black fitted outfit he wore.

The small Waist Token engraved with a black character for "Dragon" was revealed in full view.

"...This!? You!?"

As though someone had seized him by the throat, Zhang Ping's eyes flew wide open. The next instant, an almost fawning eagerness surged across his face.

"Brother A-Cheng... no! Master Cheng! You made it!? And even the Death-Pledge Contract... you... you settled that too!?"

Chen Cheng smiled faintly. "Go on. Ask The Proprietor first, then we'll talk."

"Yes! I'll go right away! Please wait... Master Cheng... please wait..."

While responding in a flustered jumble, Zhang Ping broke into a run toward the Inner Courtyard.

A moment later.

Zhang Ping came running back and directly invited Chen Cheng into a side courtyard.

The courtyard was not large, but Chen Cheng knew the purpose of every room within it perfectly well.

From outside to inside, there was Elder Wen's usual suite, the side rooms where the Martial Artist guards rested and trained, the accounting room where abacus clacks never ceased, and The Proprietor's study.

"The Proprietor, Master Cheng has arrived."

Zhang Ping lightly knocked on the study door. Though no one inside could see him, his waist bent lower than usual.

"Come in."

From within the study came a woman's voice, intellectual and gentle, carrying a faintly husky texture.

Chen Cheng pushed the door open and entered, while Zhang Ping did not follow.

The study was softly lit, with a faint scent of ink mingling in the air with the fragrance of sandalwood.

Behind the desk, Shen Mi, the firm's Proprietor, slowly raised her head.

She appeared to be around thirty. Her face was delicate, fair, and luminous, while a long dark-red crinkled silk dress traced the proud, lush curves of her full and beautiful figure.

Her gaze fell upon the lean youth standing before the desk, whose spine was straight as a spear.

The careful scrutiny and calculation in her long autumn-water eyes were swiftly replaced by surprise.

Her lips parted slightly as she spoke the youth's name.

"...Chen Cheng."

She paused, suppressing the astonishment in her voice.

"When Zhang Ping came in to pass on the message just now, I was wondering whether he had mistaken the person... I never expected it really to be you!"

"In less than two months, you've undergone a complete transformation and become an official disciple of Dragon Mountain Hall's Middle Academy..."

After a soft sigh of amazement, an undisguised, appreciative smile blossomed at the corners of her lips.

"Fine timber has only just revealed itself, yet already it stands so magnificently. Given time, perhaps even that Martial Guard distinction may not be beyond your reach!"

"You flatter me."

Chen Cheng inclined his head slightly.

"You needn't be modest. Though I have never practiced martial arts, my daughter is also in Dragon Mountain Hall's Middle Academy... so I understand a little."

Shen Mi waved a hand and smiled lightly.

"To cultivate One-Incense Blood Qi in barely over a month, both your talent and comprehension must be first-rate. You can certainly be called a genius!"

"Back then, when my daughter broke through to Blood Condensation, she took far longer than you..."

Hearing this, Chen Cheng's expression froze slightly, and he did not continue the conversation.

He had heard long ago that Proprietor Shen Mi had a daughter practicing martial arts elsewhere, one who rarely returned to live at the firm. Yet he had not expected her to be in Longshan Middle Academy as well.

As for Shen Mi's husband, it was said that he had died more than ten years ago, though the cause was unclear. Those who did not know wildly speculated, while those who did know kept silent as a grave.

Seeing that Chen Cheng had not spoken for quite some time, Shen Mi did not particularly mind. In her impression, Chen Cheng had always been a man of few words, steady and practical.

"Let us return to business."

Shen Mi's expression turned serious. "Zhang Ping said you wanted to fill Elder Wen's position... but forgive my bluntness, the situation within the firm is extremely complicated. At present, you... definitely cannot hold it down."

Chen Cheng did not argue. What she said was the truth, and he knew it perfectly well.

Seeing how composed he was, wholly lacking the rashness and restlessness of boys his age, Shen Mi's eyes gained another trace of approval. After pondering briefly, she continued.

"How about this? I'll still appoint you as an affiliated consecrated expert, with five taels of silver cash per month. Meals and lodging are not included, and you won't need to report for roll call or sit regular hours."

"You need only stand watch at the warehouse for two hours each day, so outsiders will know that Yongsheng Firm has a Martial Artist from Dragon Mountain Hall holding the fort."

She paused, then added.

"Furthermore, should an emergency arise that requires you to act, there will be separate compensation... However, this is not mandatory. If it is inconvenient for you, or if you are unwilling, you may refuse."

"Deal!"

Chen Cheng gave his answer cleanly and decisively.

To him, the terms Shen Mi offered were already ideal.

The job was simple and sufficiently safe. It merely borrowed the prestige of his status as a Middle Academy disciple of Dragon Mountain Hall to deter any lurking eyes.

He would neither be dragged into the tangled mire of the firm's internal interests nor need to fight and gamble with his life.

Five taels of silver each month meant a stable income of five thousand copper coins.

He had no reason whatsoever to refuse.

"There's something else I was just about to ask you..."

Shen Mi's gaze sharpened, and her voice turned cold.

"Zhao Shan's death..."