Chapter 13: Lease – “Young Master, would you like a donut?”

 

Hongyu shrank into a corner, trembling, while Mama Tian stood at the doorway, dumbstruck.

 

Everyone watched in shock as Liu Hexiao grabbed a stark-naked Zhang Luan. In his panic, Zhang Luan shouted, “Let me go! You… You dare lay hands on me again after being flogged fifty times last time!?”

 

The commotion drew attention as doors to nearby rooms opened, with people sticking their heads out to watch.

 

Liu Hexiao, trained in martial arts since childhood, was impressively strong. He twisted Zhang Luan’s arm behind his back with one iron-like arm and dragged him to the second-floor staircase.

 

Zhang Luan, face flushed with both anger and shame, bellowed, “Liu Hexiao! I’ll kill you!”

 

Liu Hexiao, with a grim expression, pressed Zhang Luan to the floor and coldly said, “I’ll say this one last time—if you dare disrespect my elder brother again, you’ll regret ever being born.”

 

With that, he raised his foot and mercilessly kicked Zhang Luan down the stairs!

 

“Thud, thud, thud…” Zhang Luan rolled all the way down to the first-floor hall. The staircase wasn’t especially high, but the humiliation was at its peak.

 

Bruised and battered, Zhang Luan lay sprawled on the floor, unsure whether to cover his face or his body. When he lifted his head, he saw everyone staring at him in astonishment. Humiliated, he barked, “What are you looking at? Scram!”

 

Mama Tian finally snapped out of her daze and rushed over, exclaiming, “Oh no! Quick, get the medical box! Wait, no, bring some clothes for Young Master Zhang first!”

 

Liu Hexiao dusted off his hands in disdain and said, “Let’s go.”

 

Behind him, Cheng Lingwei silently followed, casting a glance at the sorry figure of Zhang Luan—what a pitiful sight.

 

Having failed to find the jade whistle at Qianjiao Pavilion, Liu Hexiao was far from giving up.

 

He walked alongside Cheng Lingwei through the streets of Tianshui Alley, deep in thought.

 

Cheng Lingwei suggested, “Your Highness, we didn’t find the whistle at the most likely spot. Searching the remaining locations will be like finding a needle in a haystack. Shall we return to the manor and dispatch more men?”

 

Liu Hexiao responded gloomily, “No need.”

 

“But,” Cheng Lingwei hesitated, “the places you visited with General Yang over the past few days range from Changming Street to Tianshui Alley, spanning over ten businesses. If we check each one, it’ll take days… and if it’s just the two of us, I’m afraid…”

 

Liu Hexiao halted and gave him a sidelong glance. “Afraid of what?”

 

Cheng Lingwei gulped. “I’m afraid… Your Highness will tire yourself.”

 

Liu Hexiao raised a brow, his lips curving into a mocking smile. “Do you think returning to the manor will bring us help?” He let out a cold laugh. “He doesn’t care about my elder brother’s life. Why would he care about his whistle? Ridiculous.”

 

Cheng Lingwei’s expression darkened, and he fell silent.

 

Suppressing his emotions, Liu Hexiao said, “You search the shops on the right; I’ll handle the ones on the left. Let’s meet at Changming Street’s entrance at noon.”

 

Cheng Lingwei quickly cupped his hands. “Understood.”

 

—

 

Changming Street Entrance.

 

A newly arrived food stall was doing well, drawing nearly every passerby to stop for a look. In less than an hour, most of the food had sold out.

 

Nearby, a woman selling eggs and another making buns whispered to each other.

 

“What’s that stall selling?”

 

“They call it something like ‘sweet donuts.’ Each one is wrapped in paper—looks fancy.”

 

“Think it’s tasty?”

 

“Does it matter? Look at the seller—so fresh and pretty! Just those eyes, like they’re talking to you, pulling people in!”

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… No wonder it’s mostly men buying from her…”

 

Their voices, neither loud nor soft, reached the donut stall.

 

Ah-miao grew upset and wanted to confront them, but Yihuan stopped her. “What are you doing?”

 

Ah-miao fumed. “They’re speaking ill of you! I can’t let them talk about you like that!”

 

Yihuan smiled faintly. “so what?”

 

Ah-miao blinked, confused. “What do you mean, ‘so what’?”

 

Yihuan explained, “I don’t know them, nor do I care about their opinions. If you argue with them, is defeating two middle-aged women something to boast about?”

 

Ah-miao paused, shaking her head.

 

“And if you lose,” Yihuan continued, “wouldn’t that be even more embarrassing?”

 

Rendered speechless, Ah-miao finally said, “But it’s so rude of them!”

 

Yihuan chuckled. “Let them be. We’re here to make money, and anything unrelated to that is a waste of time.” She counted the remaining donuts. “If it bothers you that much, wait until we’re rich—then we’ll drown them in silver!”

 

Ah-miao burst into laughter, and nearby, Lin Yiran joined in. “Sister, did we make money today?”

 

Yihuan replied, “We did, but not much. First, we solve the problem of having something to sell. Then, we tackle making it better.”

 

Through today’s experiment, she had gauged the flow of people at Changming Street’s entrance. Most were laborers, students, or government workers. Her plan was to start with breakfast, catering to the majority—laborers—and then gradually direct them to her shop.

 

Ah, if only her shop weren’t at the street’s far end!

 

As she mused, a few more donuts sold, and Ah-miao exclaimed, “Miss, there’s only one left!”

 

Yihuan glanced at the time—it was nearly noon. “Let’s wait a bit longer.”

 

—

 

At this moment, not far behind her, Laosan’s noodle stall began its business.

 

Unlike Yihuan’s temporary setup, Laosan’s noodle stall had a permanent spot at the street corner. It had tables and chairs and looked far more professional than the other street vendors.

 

After some thought, Yihuan walked over.

 

“Uncle, you’re starting early today!” she greeted with a cheerful smile.

 

Yu Laosan, busy cooking noodles, turned to look at her and thought she looked familiar. Ah, she was the girl who ate here yesterday!

 

He smiled back. “Miss, back for noodles again?”

 

Yihuan shook her head. “Not today. I’d like to discuss a collaboration with you.”

 

Yu Laosan paused. “Collaboration?”

 

With a faint smile, Yihuan explained, “I’ve been selling breakfast lately, but carrying everything in a crate every day is inconvenient. I’d like to rent your stall for the morning hours, from dawn to late morning. It won’t affect your lunchtime business. What do you think?”

 

Yu Laosan looked skeptical. “You’re quite an odd one. Who rents a stall for just half the day?”

 

She replied, “Your stall sits idle in the morning, doesn’t it? Why not rent it out and make extra income? If you’re worried that my food might hurt your reputation, I can put up my own sign while I use it. How about that?”

 

Her reasoning made Yu Laosan hesitate, and his interest grew. “How much rent would you pay per day?”

 

Yihuan asked in return, “How much does it cost you to run this stall each day?”

 

After a moment of thought, Yu Laosan said, “Thirty wen. If you’re renting, you’d need to cover at least fifteen wen to split the cost fairly.”

 

Yihuan smiled. “Uncle, is the management fee for street vendors really that high these days?”

 

Lao San’s face stiffened.

 

This “stall” wasn’t a proper shop, nor did it require rent. He had simply claimed a prime spot with good visibility and set up a canopy and tables to make it look more established. The street authorities turned a blind eye to it after charging a small “management fee.”

 

Before approaching Yu Laosan, Yihuan had asked around and already knew the situation.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Lao San asked warily.

 

“Oh, nothing much,” Yihuan replied with a grin. “Just seems a bit steep. If your stall costs you thirty wen a day, that’s nearly one silver tael a month! Maybe I should go ask the street authority why they’re overcharging you.”

 

Yu Laosan’s face flushed with embarrassment. He had hoped to squeeze some extra money out of her, but now felt he had been caught red-handed.

 

With an awkward laugh, he said, “Miss, I was just joking! If you want to use the stall, five wen a day will do.”

 

Yihuan smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Uncle. That sounds fair.”

 

She immediately handed him fifteen wens. “Let’s try it for three days. If it works out, I’ll consider a long-term rental.”

 

Yu Laosan nodded. “Fine, set it up however you like.”

 

As she walked back to her stall, Yu Laosan couldn’t help but think, This young girl looks so innocent, but she’s sharp as a tack.

 

—

 

Back at the street corner, many vendors had already packed up and left.

 

A young man, clean-cut and dressed as a guard, stood nearby with a sword at his side. He appeared to be waiting for someone.

 

Yihuan glanced at him, finding him vaguely familiar.

 

Meanwhile, Cheng Lingwei had been standing at the street entrance for some time, waiting for Liu Hexiao to arrive.

 

He was exhausted from staying up all night and searching for the jade whistle all morning. With his energy drained and having eaten nothing, his hunger began to gnaw at him.

 

Scanning the street, he noticed few appetizing options, but his attention was caught by a vendor calling out, “Sweet donuts for sale! Last one left! If it’s not good, it’s free!”

 

Sweet donuts?

 

Intrigued, Cheng Lingwei approached the stall.

 

A girl with large, expressive eyes and round cheeks greeted him with a smile. “Young Master, would you like a donut?”

 

He looked at the golden-brown ring wrapped in paper, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Is it sweet?”

 

Ah-miao eagerly chimed in, “Yes, sweet and fragrant!”

 

Then their eyes met, and both froze.

 

Frowning, Ah-miao exclaimed, “It’s you! Your young master hit my lady yesterday…”

 

Recognition dawned on Cheng Lingwei. “It’s you… Look, my young master didn’t do it on purpose! And he already compensated you. Why bring it up again?”

 

Ah-miao retorted, “But he didn’t even apologize!”

 

“Apologize?” Cheng Lingwei repeated, stunned.

 

In all his years following Liu Hexiao, he’d never seen the man apologize to anyone. Even after severely punishing Zhang Luan and being scolded by the Prince Qi, Liu Hexiao had refused to apologize, preferring to endure fifty lashes instead.

 

An awkward silence fell between them. Cheng Lingwei wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave, and the tension grew.

 

“Good sir.”  Yihuan’s soft, sweet voice broke the stalemate.

 

Seeing the subject of their grievance, Cheng Lingwei felt a twinge of guilt.

 

To his surprise, Yihuan wasn’t upset. Smiling, she picked up the last donut and offered it to him. “This donut is handmade by me. Why don’t you take it?”

 

—

T/Note:- The phrase “Good sir” is a polite, somewhat formal way of addressing someone, especially in older or more traditional English. It indicates respect, courtesy, and deference to the person being addressed