Chapter 94: Lacking Money

Chapter 94: Lacking Money

The weather was hot and stuffy, and after finishing a set of punches, it was inevitable for the whole body to break into a sweat. Han Ruzi and the Dus sat in the pavilion, while Zhang Youcai stood nearby. The four of them ate fresh fruits and melons, chatting and laughing, feeling extremely content.

Eunuch He Yi who was put in charge of the manor’s accounts approached from a distance and entered the pavilion to pay his respects to the Weary Marquis. He smiled and said, “Is the master free now?”

Han Ruzi hurriedly invited He Yi to sit down and offered him some melon, saying, “Look at my memory. You’ve wanted to talk to me several times, and I’ve completely forgotten.”

“The master is busy, it’s understandable.”

Indeed, the Weary Marquis was very busy. He went to the College of National Scions every day to mark his attendance, and also had to practice martial arts. The rest of his time was spent wandering around buying whatever he liked.

“I’m free now. If you have something to say, please go ahead.”

“Uh...” He Yi hesitated.

Master Du observed He Yi’s words and demeanor, then got up and said, “I’ll go to my room for a nap. Chuanyun, come with me.”

Du Chuanyun was enjoying himself and made a reluctant noise, not wanting to get up.

Han Ruzi pulled Master Du back to his seat and said, “Don’t be in a hurry. I’d like to continue listening to you tell me more of the pugilist world’s anecdotes. We’re all family here, no need to avoid any topics. Old He, go ahead and speak freely.”

Du Motian stayed behind, and Du Chuanyun continued munching on melon. Eunuch He Yi smiled. Whether there were outsiders present or not, he had to talk to the master; that was his duty as the manager of accounts.

“Well... Master, in our... manor, there seems to be a bit of a...”

“Shortage of something? I’ll go buy it.”

He Yi shook his head with a smile. “There’s more than enough of everything in the manor; we’re just lacking one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Money.”

“Money?” Han Ruzi laughed, then turned to Du Motian. “Even in a noble household, there are times when money is tight.”

Du Motian smiled without saying a word, and Du Chuanyun wiped his mouth. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve heard that even emperors have tight budgets sometimes.”

In the Weary Marquis Manor, the word “emperor” was a taboo one, and only Du Chuanyun dared to use it. Not because he was bolder than the rest but because he had long forgotten that the Weary Marquis had once been an emperor.

He Yi chuckled awkwardly. “Well, it’s just that the manor is running a bit short; expenses are exceeding income.”

“How is that possible?” Han Ruzi’s smile disappeared. He was genuinely surprised. “Don’t I get an annual stipend of several thousand households? The Bureau of Imperial Clan Affairs also gives regular rewards, and there are only about a hundred people in the manor. It shouldn’t be used up so quickly, right?”

He Yi scratched his head. “The situation is a bit different from what the master thinks.”

“Explain.”

He Yi cleared his throat. “The income of the marquis’s manor is indeed substantial, but the expenses are also considerable. Essentially, thirty to forty percent of it is used for offerings for ancestral rituals, which occur several times a year...”

“So many times?”

“The master’s status is equivalent to that of a prince, so during ancestral offerings, the standards are the same as those for princes. However, other princes have their own territories and incomes, which are much higher than ours.”

“I see. That still leaves us with sixty to seventy percent, which is quite a lot.”

“And another thirty to forty percent of the income is used for social interactions among the imperial relatives.”

“Hmm, I haven’t had any interactions with other nobles.”

“That’s right. But even if you don’t interact with them, you need to exchange gifts. It’s a common practice. For example, last month, the Heir of Jinan had a grand wedding, and we sent ten pounds of gold, ten pieces of exquisite silk, and twenty pairs of precious jade...”

“Why haven’t I heard about this?”

“I’m not a merchant...”

“But you need money,” Du Chuanyun widened his eyes. He always had trouble keeping his composure when persuading others.

“Tell me what’s going on first.”

Du Chuanyun pulled over a chair, sat across from the desk, and looked straight at the Weary Marquis. “In Fresh Greens Lane, to answer Houwu’s questions, I claimed that grandpa and I were also getting you into a scam, even earlier than Lin Kunshan.”

“I overheard that at the time.”

“Houwu believed it, and according to the rules, Lin Kunshan can’t have any more contact with you. As for the gold and silver you rewarded us, we actually distributed it to our fellow pugilists in the martial world, telling them it was obtained through deception.”

“Is it because the money wasn’t enough? How much do you need? Just tell me.”

Du Chuanyun kept shaking his head. “If we take more money from you, wouldn’t we truly become scammers? I have an idea, and it won’t require your money, but it will provide an explanation to our pugilist world comrades.”

“Go on.”

“Lin Kunshan was able to get money from you. Why can’t we get it ourselves?”

“How can we get money ourselves?”

“Lin Kunshan must know. I can go and capture him. We’ll know after interrogating him.”

Han Ruzi shook his head insistently. “No, we can’t take any more risks. Let me think about it.”

“Someone like Lin Kunshan is a wanderer who’s at home anywhere in the world. Today he’s in the Capital, but tomorrow he could be in the south. Once he leaves, the secret of the money scam goes with him.”

Han Ruzi understood. Lin Kunshan’s “secret scam” was a scheme to tempt the Weary Marquis into revealing his imperial ambitions. After a long pause, he said, “You want to set up a real scam to preserve your reputation in the pugilist world?”

“Yes, otherwise, they might say that us Dus did not live up to our claims.” From Du Chuanyun’s perspective, deceiving royalty and nobility would elevate their reputation, but deceiving fellow pugilists was shameful.

Han Ruzi pondered once again. “What does old Master Du say about this?”

“I talked to him, but he’s not interested. Anyway, it was me who lied to Houwu, not him.”

“But he didn’t stop you?”

“My grandfather has never stopped me from doing things. He often says that he can protect me for a while, but not for a lifetime. The pugilist world is something you venture into yourself; it’s not something your grandfather can bring you into.”

Han Ruzi could relate; Yang Feng had a similar attitude towards his actions.

“I have an idea. Without Lin Kunshan, we could still get some money.”

“You?” Du Chuanyun couldn’t believe that the Weary Marquis would be skilled in deception.

In fact, Han Ruzi had been thinking about it for several days. If Du Chuanyun had arrived a little later, he would have gone to find the Du father and son himself. “Do you know how to gamble?”

“Of course, my grandfather says I learned to throw dice before I even learned to walk.”

“Then you should be quite skilled.”

“I’m not boasting, but in terms of martial arts and swordsmanship, I’m at best second-rate. But when it comes to gambling, I’m top-notch. Many heroes of the pugilist world have lost everything to me.”

Han Ruzi lightly tapped the desk with his hand. “That makes it easy. I know some noble figures who are both wealthy and fond of gambling. Why not try to win a substantial sum from them?”

While Du Chuanyun aimed to collect gold and silver, Han Ruzi had a bigger target in mind.

[1] Referring to funerals and by extension death is seen as somewhat inauspicious.

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