A Willing Mistake, My Lady – Chapter 88

Inviting the Wolf into the House

“She’d made up her mind—she was stealing her away!”

Jiang Chenyu and Jiang Ning talked for a long while. The originally budgeted profit of 500,000 taels had been split into 150,000 taels of silver each, with the remaining 200,000 invested in tea.

            

After selling tea for a year, the profit was more than double—roughly 500,000 in gross profit. Deducting the 200,000 in initial capital, 100,000 for labor and provisions, and expenses for social engagements and gifts, they were left with about 200,000.

Though 200,000 a year in profit couldn’t compare to overseas trade, it was still a respectable income in the capital—and that wasn’t from just a single shop in the capital alone.

Jiang Ning had divided her crew into six squads of five, each pulling two carts of tea to surrounding commanderies and counties. She’d set up a bonus system: whoever sold the most and fastest would receive extra rewards upon return.

            

Once people had a competitive spirit, they found the drive to strive. One had to admit—not putting all your eggs in one basket was the right call. Relying solely on walk-in customers for a large quantity of tea would have earned only a fraction of this.

The brothers’ houses had long been built. Those with families had brought their wives and mothers over, and the rest, seeing this, grew envious. Now everyone had a goal, and they worked harder than ever.

A large crew was hard to manage, but among Jiang Ning’s forty-person team, there were eight squad leaders. If anyone stepped out of line, Jiang Ning’s lieutenants would go directly to the relevant squad leader, creating a system of mutual oversight that saved her enormous energy. She could focus entirely on business.

            

When a person had enough silver and strong enough connections, the road of commerce widened considerably. After that, it was mostly a matter of endurance and attention to detail—seldom would anything go badly wrong.

Selling tea was a delicate trade compared to other businesses. Improper storage could mean losing everything. But they’d had the advantage of perfect timing, location, and people—namely, they’d found Shopkeeper Lin, who knew tea storage and preferences inside and out.

The past year had been bustling and prosperous for everyone. And now, Shopkeeper Lin was about to leave.

            

“You’re really leaving?” Chuntao asked. The moment she heard Shopkeeper Lin was departing, she—who was used to bickering with her constantly—felt a pang of disappointment.

Jiang Ning was never around during the day, so normally it was just Shopkeeper Lin sitting with her in the shop. And Miss Lin was so learned and capable—whenever troublemakers came in to cause problems, she handled them with effortless ease. Gradually, Chuntao had started to admire her, though on the surface she still loved to pick fights, too proud to make nice.

“Yes. The imperial selection for female officials is coming soon. I need to focus on preparing. If I can turn my fortunes around, I might have a chance to reclaim the family estate—and let my parents below rest in peace.” Shopkeeper Lin lowered her gaze, her emotions unreadable.

            

Her father, when she was young, had been set up and tricked into a business deal that left him buried in debt. Unable to repay, he had taken his own life. Her mother had followed him in death.

Only ten or so years old, she had been taken in by relatives, who conveniently absorbed what remained of her family’s hollowed-out estate. But the wary girl gradually noticed inconsistencies. Perhaps the whole thing had been a scheme from the start.

That family had taken her in only to keep her under their watchful eyes. They did let her continue her studies, but that was all for show. How tight her own circumstances were—only she knew.

            

As she read more, she learned that women could also serve as officials. With official power, she could seek justice for her dead father—she wouldn’t even need to do it herself.

With that conviction, she had played dumb, cooperating with that pack of wolves to lull them into complacency, until the day she finally escaped.

“Taking the female official exam is a good thing. When you leave, I’ll treat you to a banquet at Fuxiang Tower—how about it?” Seeing her low spirits, Chuntao tried to comfort her.

            

Shopkeeper Lin raised her calm, water-clear eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “Then it’s settled. Don’t forget—and order me the most expensive table they have.”

She had spent no small amount of money gathering information on the requirements for becoming a female official. These were positions with real rank and authority, and many daughters of official and wealthy families had their eyes on them.

She would have to be truly exceptional to stand out. But to reclaim her family estate, she had to give it everything.

            

“Didn’t you say you had storybooks? Give me one as a keepsake, since you’re leaving soon anyway.” Chuntao wanted something to remember her by, and recalled the storybooks Shopkeeper Lin had mentioned before.

“That’s easy enough. I’ve been here all this time, and I have you to thank for keeping me afloat, Chuntao. Otherwise I might not have had a single new dress to wear.” Her silver had all gone where it needed to; in terms of daily life, she’d scrounged quite a bit off Chuntao.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the back to pick. Take whichever ones you like.” She had nothing if not books—all kinds, on every subject.

            

Chuntao followed eagerly to the small room in the back courtyard. On a medium-sized wooden shelf, she rummaged through one title after another, searching for ones that caught her interest.

As she searched, she came across a thick, palm-sized volume with a flashy cover.

Intrigued, she flipped it open—but the more she read, the more something seemed off. What was this? 《Secret History of the Spring Oriole》?

            

Why were these all women with no clothes on, in strange and explicit poses, their expressions lost in some distant rapture?

“Shopkeeper Lin, you… you… what kind of book is this? It looks like spring palace paintings¹!” Chuntao’s face burned. Her words came out halting and stuttered.

Shopkeeper Lin, who had been pouring tea, panicked. She’d acquired that book from a palace eunuch last time, intending to learn more about court affairs. She never expected Chuntao to find it—now this was impossible to explain!

            

She rushed forward and snatched the 《Secret History of the Spring Oriole》 from Chuntao’s hands. Its contents were so explicit that her usually composed expression cracked with embarrassment.

“That’s not something you should be looking at. Go pick something else,” she said, feigning calm.

“You actually keep this kind of book? You always act so refined and high-minded—who knew you had a hobby like this?” Chuntao’s round eyes went wide, her brows knitting together as she fought back a grin, teasing.

            

“I don’t—it was originally bought for study and research, not for…” This was getting worse with every word.

“Study and research?!” Now Chuntao was truly shocked.

“Chuntao? Chuntao, are you in the back courtyard?” Jiang Ning’s voice came from outside. No one knew when she’d returned.

            

“I’m here—mmph—” Before she could answer, Shopkeeper Lin pressed up behind her, clamping a hand tightly over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound. If she sees us, we’ll both lose face,” she said, dragging Chuntao to the corner by the wardrobe.

Chuntao hadn’t expected someone who looked so soft and gentle to be this strong. Pinned between Shopkeeper Lin and the side of the wooden cabinet, her face flat against the wood, she couldn’t move an inch.

            

On the floor at their feet, the fallen copy of the 《Secret History of the Spring Oriole》 lay open to a page showing two long-haired women locked in a kiss, the positions of their hands drawn in vivid detail.

Chuntao glanced down and felt her breathing stop.

Looking at Chuntao, who had squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, Shopkeeper Lin traced her waist with a mischievous hand, pressing lightly, then firmly, then lightly again.

            

Chuntao hunched up like a quail, able only to press herself toward the corner of the wall. Jiang Ning’s voice was still out there. Even if Shopkeeper Lin released her hand, she wouldn’t dare make a sound now.

Jiang Ning’s footsteps drew closer to the small room. Shopkeeper Lin’s warm breath fanned across the sensitive skin behind Chuntao’s ear.

She pressed even closer, her arm brushing against Chuntao, deliberately or not. Chuntao buried her face deeper, not daring to move.

            

Jiang Ning reached the door of the small room, glanced inside at the empty room, and closed the door before leaving.

Only when she heard the footsteps recede did Chuntao dare to mumble a protest. But Shopkeeper Lin turned her around and still didn’t let go.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!” she whispered. Fine beads of sweat dotted her forehead from nerves—she looked, in truth, like a plump, dewy peach ripe for the picking.

            

“Stop liking her. Come with me instead,” Shopkeeper Lin said, blocking her with her body, her eyes bright with purpose.

“I… you… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chuntao looked at her helplessly, refusing to admit it.

“She’s so oblivious to romance—what’s the point of clinging to her? The pouches, the sleeve embroidery, even the shoe insoles you painstakingly stitched—she never once noticed. Only I treasured them, couldn’t bear to use them.”

            

“Look at me. Is my face not prettier than hers?” At this moment, Shopkeeper Lin resembled a seasoned courtesan from a pleasure house, tracing a finger back and forth across Chuntao’s flushed cheek, her low voice edged with a rasp.

Chuntao stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say. But her heart pounded and wouldn’t stop.

“Then if you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes.” The woman smiled with the confidence of someone who’d already won.

            

“Huh?” Chuntao panicked.

But Shopkeeper Lin didn’t give her a chance to refuse. She leaned in and pressed her lips against Chuntao’s—soft, full, and yielding.

Chuntao squeezed her eyes shut, passive, her mind racing with absurd thoughts. So this was what being intimate felt like. She could… actually accept it. But why was her body tingling like this?

            

Yes—anyone could see that she liked Jiang Ning. But Jiang Ning had never rejected her, and never accepted her either.

When she was little, she’d trailed after Jiang Ning. Everyone in the whole alley, young and old, dared not look down on her. She’d thought she might be special to Jiang Ning.

Jiang Ning often dressed in men’s clothes, and the two of them together had been mistaken for a young couple more times than she could count by strangers. That was when the secret took root in her heart.

            

She’d never expected any real result. But all these years, Jiang Ning had never liked anyone else either, so she’d allowed herself to hope. She’d even refused to find a husband, turning down her mistress’s offers several times.

But slowly she’d realized that whatever reason Jiang Ning had for staying single, it had nothing to do with her.

And now, Shopkeeper Lin was luring her like a temptress, and she felt something inside her give way.

            

“Ah…!” Her lower lip was suddenly bitten.

“What are you thinking about? Even this can’t keep you focused. I suppose I haven’t studied enough yet. Once I’ve mastered that storybook, you won’t be drifting off again—will you?” Shopkeeper Lin tilted her chin up and said.

Chuntao thought she must be blind. There was nothing mild or unassuming about Shopkeeper Lin anymore—she’d sprouted fangs, and it was a little frightening.

            

She clutched her bitten, stinging lower lip, pushed Shopkeeper Lin away, and was about to run out when she heard a voice behind her: “Stay in this room a bit longer before you go out. It looks a little swollen.”

She tapped her own lip lightly by way of demonstration.

Only then did Chuntao feel the sting, belatedly pressing a hand to her face. “You go out first.”

            

“Alright. Take a nap in here. If you’re bored, you can look at this some more.” She picked up the storybook from the floor and set it on the bed beside Chuntao.

Chuntao dove under the covers as if burned, burying even her head beneath the quilt.

Shopkeeper Lin didn’t tease her further. She walked out of the room with an air of utter self-satisfaction.

            

Jiang Ning never imagined that what she’d invited in was a Zhongshan wolf² that had made off with the meat from her own basket. But by the time she found out, it was already too late.

Shopkeeper Lin and Jiang Ning had both grown up without anyone to look after them. When Shopkeeper Lin saw that girl who attended to Jiang Ning’s every need with meticulous care, envy had taken root. Later, when that girl looked down on her and kept picking fights, she’d still felt compelled to help when she heard about her hardships.

That was when she’d experienced what it felt like to be genuinely cared for—so different from the grudging charity of living under someone else’s roof.

            

Over time, the desire to claim that warmth for herself had grown. As for Jiang Ning’s grace in recognizing her talent—she could only say sorry. She was stealing her partner³—of that, she was certain…!

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