10. Schemes

After many years as a traveling merchant, Gu Zhong prided himself on his sharp eye for people. Yet as he gazed unblinking at Gu Fei, he found himself unable to see through her unusually clear, black-and-white eyes. She was, after all, only a girl of fifteen, but the sense of weariness she carried was no less than that of an old man in his twilight years.

“I do have a matter to discuss,” Gu Zhong replied. He flicked his robes aside and seated himself comfortably in the place of honor.

Gu Fei tilted her head slightly, the light and shadow outlining her lips in deep and subtle lines. Her face, pale as if untouched by sun or moon, seemed delicate and frail, evoking a defenselessness that might easily lower anyone’s guard.

“Uncle, please speak freely. If there is anything I can help with, I will not shirk from it,” Gu Fei responded readily. She spoke plainly; Gu Zhong was a merchant, and trying to play sly games with a merchant in person was nothing but attacking her own weaknesses with his strengths.

Gu Zhong found himself appreciating Gu Fei’s tact. Stroking his elegant beard, he said, “I recall you once mentioned having some fleeting connection with the renowned Mo family, the century-old ink makers of the capital. Was that true?”

Hearing this, Gu Fei’s heart stirred. She realized the purpose behind Gu Zhong’s visit today. She had wondered how long he would wait before bringing it up. She hadn’t expected that after merely showing her face that morning, he would come to see her that very afternoon.

A faint, enigmatic smile tugged at her lips, but the hand half-hidden in her sleeve gripped the armrest of her wheelchair tightly, especially when the “Mo family of the capital” was mentioned.

Yet none of this showed on her face as she replied in a cool, clear voice, “There is a bit of a connection…”

Seeing Gu Zhong’s eyes light up, she continued, “However, if Uncle is hoping to rely on that connection, I’m afraid it’s impossible.”

“How so?” Gu Zhong pressed, his tone urgent.

Gu Fei relaxed her posture, leaning softly against the cool back of her wheelchair, and answered lightly, “Uncle knows that I spent the first fifteen years of my life wandering outside. I did pass through the capital a few years ago, barely scraping by. By chance, I formed a brief friendship with someone, only to learn later that he was a minor steward of the Mo family. He was a kind man; seeing I was alone and destitute, he took me in and cared for me for a time. During that period, I was fortunate enough to glimpse a little of the ink-making craft passed down in their family. Not wishing to impose further, I left the capital soon after.”

Hearing this, Gu Zhong couldn’t quite say whether he was disappointed or something else. He had hoped that, with this connection, the Gu family could finally rise to prominence in Yizhou. But as Gu Fei spoke, it became apparent that this relationship was as tasteless as chewing on a chicken rib—neither satisfying nor easily discarded.

After all, in a family with a century-old legacy of ink making, even a few minor skills passed down could bring prosperity to a family like the Gu’s. But what could a mere steward accomplish? The Mo family of the capital had two hundred years of history—so vast that even direct descendants often couldn’t recognize one another.

Gu Fei sneered inwardly; how could she not see through Gu Zhong’s intentions? She understood well that when something comes too easily, people rarely cherish it, and often take it for granted.

She did need to secure her position in the Gu family, but she had no intention of being exploited to this extent.

Gu Zhong was deep in thought and failed to notice the mockery and coldness flickering in Gu Fei’s eyes.

After a long pause, he sighed and waved his hand. “Enough. It seems fate has doomed the Gu family. Our fortunes are truly imperiled…”

Gu Fei lowered her gaze to the pattern on her skirt—a pleated, lotus-white dress embroidered with green lotus leaves, with pale pink buds peeking through the folds, swaying as if stirred by a gentle breeze. Quietly, she said, “If the ink pellets have faded due to moisture… there might be a way…”

Her voice was so soft that even Gu Zhong could barely catch it, but he did catch the word “way,” and his eyes flashed as he pressed, “What way?”

Gu Fei abruptly looked up, as if startled, her expression tinged with lingering unease.

Gu Zhong chuckled awkwardly, masking his own loss of composure. “Fei’er, what were you saying just now? If you know of a way, you must share it. Whether it works or not, we must try. Remember, you’ve only just returned to the Gu family—your uncle and father have yet to truly make it up to you. The family is facing disaster; your uncle and father are both worried sick…”

He rambled on, trying his best to soften his tone—a rare effort for a man so accustomed to authority over his children—since he had yet to grasp Gu Fei’s temperament.

Judging the timing right, Gu Fei hesitated, then said, “Uncle, it’s not that I’m unwilling, only that this method was something I only heard that steward mention once. I don’t even know if it will work. If it succeeds, so much the better, but if it fails, wouldn’t I be branded a criminal by the family?”

Gu Zhong had been trading since he was barely more than a boy; he’d seen every sort of person. He instantly understood what Gu Fei was implying: she was afraid of being blamed if things went wrong.

He didn’t see this as cowardice; on the contrary, he respected her more for it. To always leave oneself a way out was the only path to invincibility; even in defeat, one could rise again.

He reassured her, “You needn’t worry. Your uncle is not a fool; I know right from wrong. Whether or not your method works, you will have done your utmost for the family.”

With that assurance, Gu Fei no longer demurred. She bit her lip, recalling, “The steward once said that if ink pellets are damaged—either cracked or faded from dampness—it’s due to improper storage. If there are cracks, repair is difficult. But if it’s just discoloration from moisture, they can be placed in cloth bags and hung in a cool, well-ventilated place.”

Gu Zhong repeated her words a few times, committing them to memory. The more he considered it, the more promising it seemed. Unable to sit still any longer, he hurriedly told Gu Fei, “I’ll go try this in the workshop at once.”

With that, he gathered his robes and left in haste.

Dancing Colors came up with a tray of tea just as she reached the entrance and nearly collided with Gu Zhong. She quickly stepped aside to let him pass.

“Miss, the Master left already?” Dancing Colors asked as she came in, offering Gu Fei a cup of warm tea and setting the other on the table.

Gu Fei lifted the lid, brushed aside the tea leaves, took a small sip, savoring the fragrance as it blossomed on her tongue, and only then replied leisurely, “Indeed, he’s gone.”

He’d left in such a hurry, not even waiting for her to finish. If anything went wrong, who could blame her?

That was just as she wanted; she was no fool to allow herself to be coaxed by a few words into giving everything away. She would not expose all her cards and make it so easy for the Gu family to weather their decline. Afterwards, who would give her any credit?

Some things, some people, some words, must wait until the critical moment for their irreplaceable value to be seen.

Not only did she need to secure her footing in the Gu family, but one day she might well have to contend with Gu Zhong for the right to govern it. After all, with the burdens she bore and the things she had to accomplish, relying on her own strength alone would be as futile as an ant trying to topple a tree. The Gu family, then, was nothing if not the perfect stepping stone.