Chapter Twenty-Nine: Taking Over the Tavern

At dawn the next day, Yang Lian was already up. As usual, he strapped on his sandbags and went for a run. By the time he returned, daylight had fully broken. After breakfast, he brought Xiao Erhei with him into town, intending to get himself a set of clothes.

He had only been in Jinling for a few days, but a series of events had kept him busier than expected. He was still wearing the same old, tattered clothes. Though they had been washed clean, his circumstances were now different; he even owned an inn as his property. Naturally, Yang Lian felt it necessary to dress appropriately.

Xiao Erhei, familiar with the streets, became his natural guide. After Yang Lian explained what he wanted, Xiao Erhei led him along the flagstone road. They didn’t have to walk far. The street where Yang Lian resided, being close to the Qinhuai River, was conveniently located, bustling with commerce, and even more so with entertainment. After barely half a mile, they saw countless shops—those selling clothes, others selling jewelry, all with their wares hung invitingly at the doors.

Yang Lian fixed his gaze on a cloth shop and said, “Let’s go in and have a look.”

There weren’t many people inside, likely because it was still early. The shopkeeper, a man of about thirty with a long beard at his chin, hurried over when he saw Yang Lian. “Honored guest, what can I get for you? Whether you need winter or summer garments, silks or fabrics, we have it all. We also take custom orders—a simple one can be ready in three days, while more complex ones might take a fortnight or so, depending on your needs.”

Yang Lian nodded. “I’d like a few summer outfits, just for myself.”

The shopkeeper sized him up. “You’re quite tall, sir. I’m afraid our stock is limited in your size. Please, come this way and have a look first.”

Yang Lian nodded and followed him. The shopkeeper took a long robe from the rack. Yang Lian inspected it and nodded in approval. Though the design was unremarkable, a close look at the stitching revealed the garment was well-made. He was satisfied.

“Would you like to try it on in the fitting room?” the shopkeeper suggested, lifting a curtain to reveal a small cubicle meant for changing clothes.

Yang Lian went in, took off his old clothes, and put on the new robe. The fit was perfect, so he decided to take it. He tried on a few more; some were too large, others too small or not quite to his liking. In the end, he chose three summer outfits.

“Thank you for your patronage—that will be one hundred and five coins in all. Since you’re buying several, let’s make it a flat hundred,” the shopkeeper said, proving himself a shrewd businessman.

Yang Lian smiled slightly. “Thank you.” He gestured for Xiao Erhei to pay.

Just then, a girl not far away shrieked, “Where’s my purse?”

Yang Lian turned his head, his pupils narrowing just a little.

The girl was about sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a ruqun, her hair pinned with a jade hairpin. Her skin was pale and delicate, no less lovely than Princess Huairou. She looked gentle and scholarly—a daughter, no doubt, of a cultured family.

Flushed with anxiety, the girl explained she was buying a gift and had brought enough money, but now her purse was gone. She needed to deliver the gift that afternoon, and time was running short. She searched frantically, but the silk purse was nowhere to be found; whether it had been lost or stolen, she couldn’t tell.

She wanted to buy a length of red cloth worth two hundred coins, said to be from Shu—bright and beautiful. Yang Lian saw her speaking with one of the shop’s assistants, apparently asking to take the red cloth first and pay later, once her business was done. But two hundred coins was no small sum. How could the assistant take that risk? The girl didn’t look untrustworthy, but who could be sure? If she took the cloth and never returned, the loss would be his. So, neither the assistant nor the shopkeeper would agree.

The shopkeeper walked over and looked the girl up and down, his gaze lingering shamelessly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment it seemed he’d devour her with his eyes.

The girl blushed deeply, understanding all too well what was going through the shopkeeper’s mind. But she was timid and didn’t dare argue, lowering her head in distress, not knowing what to do.

Wiping the corner of his mouth, the shopkeeper continued to stare. To be enticed by beauty is only human, but he showed no restraint, making himself repulsive. The girl huffed in anger, irritated by his rudeness, and was about to leave when a voice sounded: “I’ll pay for the cloth, miss.”

She looked up to see a tall man approaching. He was so tall she barely reached his elbow. Glancing up, she was startled: a deep, red scar ran across his face—healed, but still shocking. One could imagine the hardships he had endured.

As the man came closer, the girl grew nervous. He looked intimidating.

“Miss, it’s easy to run into trouble when out and about. Please, take this cloth,” Yang Lian said gently.

His warm tone eased her fears. She looked up at him again, and the scar seemed less frightening. His smile, in fact, was rather charming. The girl suddenly felt flustered.

Yang Lian grabbed the roll of cloth and handed it to her. “If you’re in a hurry, you’d best go. Someone like you should always bring a maid when going out.”

By then, Xiao Erhei had already paid. Yang Lian strode from the shop without a backward glance. The girl watched his departing figure, suddenly remembering she had forgotten to ask his name. She must repay those two hundred coins someday. And how had he guessed she had a maid? She couldn’t figure it out. She gazed intently in the direction he’d gone, clutching her precious purchase, and hurried out of the shop.

Yang Lian paid the incident little mind. After making a few more purchases around the street, he returned to the Lai Fu Inn. Now, with funds in hand, renovations for the inn were on his agenda; he instructed Xiao Erhei to find some reliable carpenters—money was no problem. As for the inn’s redesign, he would need to consider it carefully.

Lai Fu Inn, while well-located, had not been laid out to its best advantage by Li Xiongxin. Yang Lian planned to remodel the row of rooms facing the Qinhuai River. With windows overlooking the water, the price per room could be raised by at least twenty percent. Moreover, his plan had not changed: besides running an inn, he intended to buy the neighboring tavern and build a small establishment offering both lodging and meals, with potential for future expansion.

After resting for a while, Yang Lian left Wang Hu and Zhao Peng to watch the inn, then took Xiao Erhei to the tavern. It was midday, and business at a tavern should have been at its peak, but there were few patrons. Yang Lian found this odd; he had dined there yesterday, and the food was excellent—especially the yellow croaker, which was prepared so authentically that he wished for more.

“Ah, isn’t this Lord Yang?” The tavern owner, Huang Qi, originally from Xuanzhou, had come to Jinling two years ago. A straightforward man, he’d recognized the Prince of Qi paying a visit to Yang Lian the day before, and had given Yang Lian a twenty percent discount on his meal—an honest fellow.

“Brother Huang Qi, thank you for yesterday,” Yang Lian said, arching his hands. “But I am puzzled. I dined here yesterday, and your food is superb—so why is business so poor?”

“Alas!” At the question, Huang Qi could only sigh, crouching down in silence.

His wife, a forthright woman, scolded him, “You useless man! Other than cooking, what good are you?” She came forward with a cup of tea for Yang Lian, smiling as she set it before him.

“My lord, you may not know it, but when this tavern first opened, business was excellent. It was precisely because of this that someone grew envious and tried to buy the place for a pittance. This tavern is our lifeblood—how could we sell it for a few strings of coins? Because we refused, that person kept sending ruffians to cause trouble.”

“When customers were dining, they’d come in with filth, making the place reek. Sometimes they’d get drunk and smash tables and chairs, even injuring patrons. Just the compensation for damages cost us a year’s savings.”

Huang Qi’s wife was quick to recount the events in a few words.

Huang Qi, sitting by, held his head and muttered, “Those ruffians come and go like ghosts. Reporting to the authorities is useless!”

“What use is that? Lord Yang honors us with his presence—go to the kitchen and cook!” his wife ordered.

Huang Qi, dejected, stood up and wrung his hands. “At once, my lord. Please wait a moment.”

Yang Lian waved his hand. “No rush.” He glanced around the tavern. “To be frank, I’m interested in acquiring this tavern. Of course, if you don’t wish to sell, I won’t force you. But if you do, I promise the price will satisfy you.”

The Prince of Qi had given him a large sum of gold—just the gold alone amounted to a hundred taels—so buying the tavern was no problem. Still, Yang Lian was not about to be taken advantage of.

Huang Qi’s eyes brightened. The tavern had been declining for a long time and, to keep it afloat, he had borrowed heavily, but was still losing money. Life had become unbearable.

Huang Qi’s wife pulled him aside, and the two conferred in low voices for a while. Then she came over and said, “To be honest, my lord, when we first took over this tavern, it cost us over two hundred strings of coins. With renovations, about three hundred in all. After two years of hard work, instead of making a profit, we now owe more than five hundred strings. If you could pay off our debt, the tavern would be yours.” She found it unlikely, but couldn’t help hoping.

Yang Lian waved a hand. “I do want to buy the tavern, but I have no wish to drive you from your home. Otherwise, how would I be any different from those ruffians?”

Huang Qi’s wife bit her lip. She was truly at the end of her rope. If they couldn’t pay their debt within five days, the creditor had vowed not only to seize the tavern but to sell her to a brothel, to be used and abused.

With a thud, Huang Qi fell to his knees, sobbing, “Lord Yang, have mercy and save us!”

Yang Lian hurried over and helped him up. “Brother Huang, there’s no river that cannot be crossed. Grit your teeth and persevere—this too shall pass.”

Tears welled in his wife’s eyes. “We’ve heard you’re a man who helps those in need; if you would aid us, we’d be grateful, even to the point of serving you for life.”

Yang Lian did the calculation—over five hundred strings of coins was about five hundred taels of silver. He could afford it, but the silver from the Prince of Qi would be nearly depleted, and even with a hundred taels of gold remaining, the inn’s refurbishment would require funds. It was, in truth, a losing investment. Yet, seeing Huang Qi’s helplessness, Yang Lian couldn’t help but sigh.

“If I buy the tavern, where will you go?” he suddenly asked.

“Perhaps back to Xuanzhou,” his wife replied. They had come to Jinling hoping for a better life, but found only debt. They still had a few acres of land at home—enough to scrape by, but they would never return to Jinling.

“Here’s my proposal: I’ll pay your debts, and the tavern will be mine. But you needn’t leave. Brother Huang, your cooking is excellent—you can stay on as staff, and your wife as well. I’ll pay you three strings a month. What do you think?” Yang Lian offered.

Huang Qi fell to his knees again. “Lord Yang, we can never repay such kindness, not in a lifetime!”

His wife knelt beside him. “Thank you, my lord!”