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"That's because everyone knows the master is gone. They're worried the quality of our cloth will suffer, so they don't dare buy it."

"That's a ridiculous thing to say, Manager Qian. The master didn't weave the cloth himself. Its quality wouldn't decline just because he's gone. This isn't a restaurant where business plummets when the chef changes. Besides, isn't the cloth woven months in advance? It takes at least two months to go from the loom to the shop. The cloth we're selling now was made while the master was still alive. How is it any different from before? How could its quality suddenly be worse?"

"You..."

For a moment, Manager Qian couldn't find an excuse to answer Shen Lantang. Her relentless questioning annoyed him, and his face darkened.

"What are you implying, miss? That I haven't been attentive to the shop, and that's why business is poor? Which of us knows how to run a shop—you or me?"

"Why, you do, of course. I'm only raising a question. Your explanation makes no sense. Either you don't know the real reason, or you know it and don't want to say. If you think a couple of offhand remarks will fob Madam Zhao off, I can't help questioning your motives."

"My motives?" Manager Qian's voice rose.

"I've worked at this cloth shop for over twenty years. I was here before Madam Zhao married into the family. When the master was at his lowest, I was the only one who stayed beside him. He often said that as long as I was here, the shop would never fall. And you question my loyalty? If I weren't loyal, I'd have left back when the shop was struggling to stay open!"

Manager Qian launched into an indignant tirade, as though he wanted to hurl