The First Attempt

It was the deed to the most central plot of land in the Eastern Market. Zhou Yao examined it carefully, then set it down. "I once heard in the palace that the most expensive land in the Eastern Market had been bought but never developed, a pity to see it lie idle. I never imagined the deed would be in the hands of the eldest son of the Qi family."

"To be honest, Your Highness, though I am under the watch of my clan elders at home, the gift I present to show my sincerity doesn't require anyone else's help." Qi Yanhan's expression turned slightly helpless, but he shifted the conversation. "From what I understand, your porcelain sales aren't doing well in the Western Market. The Western Market is mostly frequented by common folk, and few households can afford such luxury items as porcelain."

She hesitated. "You're trying to win me over?"

Qi Yanhan smiled and corrected her. "It's both cooperation and compensation."

"If the deed to this Eastern Market land were managed by my own people, anyone with sharp eyes could trace it back to me. Given the current circumstances... it's not yet appropriate for outsiders to know too much. Truly a dilemma. Rather than leave it empty and wasted, I might as well offer it as a token of goodwill." His fox-like eyes held a warm smile as he looked at Zhou Yao and said slowly, "I hope Your Highness will accept it."

"Master Qi's schemes are meticulous. Since you said you wouldn't disturb my rest, I might as well say that good things don't come easily." Zhou Yao felt a pang of reluctance over such a prime location, but recalling that the favors Qi Yanhan offered never seemed to match what she gained, she pushed the box back. "Besides, matters such as managing shops for others are better left to the servants."

The man gave a light smile. "Your Highness regards me as a scourge, doesn't she? In that case, I'll stop beating around the bush." He poured tea from the pot beside the chessboard into a cup, dipped a fair finger into the liquid, and unhurriedly wrote a few characters on the wooden table.

Zhou Yao glanced at the characters he had traced with water, then smiled lightly. "Fine, I agree. But I have two conditions."

"Please speak, Your Highness." Qi Yanhan's eyes lifted slightly, the gleam in them barely concealing his delight.

"The first is that I want to dissolve this superficial relationship between us." She looked at him seriously. "Though there are the rules of 'seven grounds for divorce' and 'no divorce if three conditions are met,' what I seek is not a man's condescending charity, but a fair and peaceful parting."

Qi Yanhan was momentarily at a loss, his expression seeming wounded, with a hint of desolation lurking beneath.

He hesitated. "But..."

"Leave the legal matters to me," Zhou Yao said firmly. "Why should women be deemed inferior to men? Why must women always yield to men, with no destiny but to be confined to harems or to depend on others? Since there is no precedent, I shall be the precedent, securing a path for all women in this world who seek power."

He seemed taken aback, the hope in his eyes dissolving instantly. Softly, he said, "That's right. Your Highness's ideas are always so novel, even... out of the ordinary."

The ambition in Zhou Yao's eyes was not lost on Qi Yanhan. Though he had known that the feelings he had built on lies would eventually crumble, when that day truly came, he found himself hesitating.

He wasn't sure what expression his face wore, but he seemed to disregard such externals and said, "Since Your Highness has decided, I will comply. And your second condition?"

Zhou Yao looked at the unfinished chess game on the board, picked up a black piece, and placed it down with a smile. "Naturally, to add some stakes to our partnership."

"Oh?" Qi Yanhan leaned in with interest. "Your Highness, please speak plainly."

"During our cooperation, your people must follow my commands, and you must also hand over your shops and carriage houses in the city."

"Shops, carriages, salt, millet, iron." Qi Yanhan pretended to ponder, slowly savoring the words, and soon let out a light laugh. "Does Your Highness know that the Qi family is aligned with the Crown Prince? And I am the eldest son of the Qi family." He didn't finish the thought about putting the family's interests first, but Zhou Yao understood.

"Naturally," Zhou Yao replied nonchalantly. "Since you've been secretly undermining the Crown Prince's spies, why act as if our positions are at odds?"

"Besides, Elder Qi has invested far more effort in that good-for-nothing Qi Xiaohan than in you, the eldest son..."

Qi Yanhan gave a soft hum of amusement, silently acknowledging the truth in her words.

"In that case, Your Highness, please rest early. If there's nothing else, I shall take my leave." He rose to go, but Zhou Yao quickly called him back.

At being stopped, a flicker of hope stirred in Qi Yanhan's heart, but then—nothing more came. Nothing at all.

"Before the banquet, the Crown Prince was displeased with me over the Western Regions matter. He punished me to memorize and copy the regulations for women. Can you... handle that?" Zhou Yao studied Qi Yanhan appraisingly.

His demeanor was relaxed. "Naturally, I understand."

Half a month later, Zhou Yao's injuries had mostly healed.

The beagle in the yard tilted its head back and howled, "Wer, wer, wer!"

The originally neat stone path in the courtyard was now riddled with deep pits it had dug, leaving the Qi manor's backyard looking like an abandoned, dilapidated house in the wilderness.

Zhou Yao sighed helplessly, propping her chin on one hand as she sat at the table fretfully, tapping away at an abacus.

She'd have to compensate the steward again this month... she thought with exasperation.

Although Qi Yanhan had said the beagle was mischievous and she didn't need to pay extra, Zhou Yao couldn't shake the guilt. Every month, she converted the damages the beagle caused into silver and gave it to the steward.

Since her injury, her stall had gone unattended for a long time, and her finances were tight—especially with the additional expenses from the beagle.

Income could not cover expenses, argh!

Earlier, she had agreed with Qi Yanhan to run a shop; once that was set up, the profits would be split nine-to-one in her favor.

After some thought, Zhou Yao sent her servants to summon the craftsmen skilled in making colored glaze whom she had brought back from the Western Regions. With little trouble, she learned the remaining steps of glaze-making.

She rose and asked a maid to help her freshen up, then made her way to the Western Market in a low-key manner.

Street vendors were hawking fruits and vegetables, and though the crowd seemed chaotic, it was orderly and well-maintained—except for the homeless refugees huddled in the corners of the streets.

Zhou Yao wanted to help, but she lacked the means at the moment.

By rule, every concubine and princess in the palace was entitled to a monthly stipend from their fief, but Zhou Yao's share never came. She could only guess that palace attendants had pocketed it. With no title and no favor, she had become the 'odd one out' in the palace.

Now she truly had no money left, and no fallback at all.

She often wondered if she had treated Ling Long poorly. The woman had been by her side since the deep palace days, and Zhou Yao could honestly say she had never mistreated her.

To end up like this... it chilled her heart.

Familiar with the way, Zhou Yao found the black market. She strolled around and discovered that glaze-making materials were scarce there; even when available, the cost was exorbitantly high.

Porcelain clay, however, was available. Zhou Yao bought it, along with a few other odds and ends, and brought them back to the Qi Manor to begin experimenting.

Making colored glaze had much in common with making porcelain.

She poured out the dried porcelain clay, added crushed old bricks and green celadon powder, and ground it all until it was as fine as flour. Then came kneading and mixing the clay. Every time she slammed and shaped the clay, the little beagle would come by and cause trouble, nearly forcing her to start over.

By the time she finished these preliminary steps, another half month had passed.

Qi Yanhan was busy with official duties, but occasionally he would run into Zhou Yao with mud smeared on her face. Each time, he would pause mid-step, smile, and wipe it off for her, then have the steward bring her some bayberry drink.

Thus, the days passed fairly smoothly.

The remaining steps of glaze-making were similar to firing ceramics, commonly called the 'Three Upper Tasks': the stabilizing task, the kiln task, and the glazing task. Since she was already skilled in firing and glazing, she could greatly shorten the learning time.

She decided to start with simple glazed tiles. Following her plan, she took the materials to the Nine Kilns again.

After everything was prepared, she adjusted the kiln temperature and placed the dried bisque into the kiln to fire, copying her previous porcelain-making experience to control the heat.

Outside the window, bamboo leaves occasionally drifted down; sunlight filtered through the bamboo grove, leaving little warmth on the ground.

Street children babbled, common folk lived in peace, and the calls of street vendors drifted in from outside.

For half a month, she basically ate and slept at the Nine Kilns, rarely returning to the Qi Manor. This restless state unsettled those inside.

One day, they said the beagle was so noisy it disrupted their thoughts; the next, they claimed chest tightness and dizziness.

Zhou Yao thought: Honestly, doesn't the Qi Manor have a doctor? If not, they can summon the imperial physician. It's not like she knew how to treat ailments—why say all this to her?

When the glaze was finally fired, the results were of superior quality. Zhou Yao was satisfied. She had the servants gather the pieces and hurried over to the prime storefront in the Eastern Market.

Although the shop had been idle, it was always kept tended. When Zhou Yao arrived at the door with her people and the finished glazed tiles, ready to enter, she was blocked by someone with a fierce glare.