spoiled brat

Chapter 41 40. Countercurrent (10)

She gestured for Zhaozhao to give her the zither first, but Zhaozhao shook her head. She didn't try to persuade her anymore, reached out and pushed open the balcony door, leading Zhaozhao to the seats of Steward Sun and Mother Yu.

Manager Sun looked Zhao Zhao up and down with a smile, then said to Mama Yu, "She's a fine prospect. Little girl, how old are you?"

"Almost fourteen."

Manager Sun remained silent for a moment, then said after some thought, "You are outstanding and beautiful, but unfortunately you are too young... Miss, you should leave."

"Grandma Sun," Zhao Zhao curtsied respectfully, "may I ask if you think I'm too young and haven't grown up well enough, and are afraid I won't be liked by the distinguished guests?"

Manager Sun's thoughts were exposed. She rarely encountered someone who didn't beat around the bush, so she quickly replied, "Yes. You haven't reached the age of marriage yet. I'll come back to pick you in two years."

Prostitutes are most sought after when they are fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen years old. Their faces are naturally beautiful without makeup, and their bodies are soft, tender, and white. This perfectly describes the popular poem: "A beautiful woman of sixteen or seventeen has a body like soft butter, and carries a sword at her waist to slay ordinary men."

Zhao Zhao looked at Steward Sun and said confidently, "I don't need to use my looks to please men; I can still win their favor."

"Oh?" Manager Sun's gaze fell on the moon lute in her hand.

Zhao Zhao lowered her eyes, gently plucked the strings to test the tone, and then casually strummed a tune.

Although short, it still demonstrates skill.

Manager Sun was disappointed; talent alone was not enough to win the favor of the masters.

He had intended to offer a few perfunctory compliments, but then he saw Zhao Zhao put the moon zither aside and say indifferently, "I can play the zither, but not for this."

"Then why?" Manager Sun's curiosity was piqued.

"With your brain."

Zhao Zhao said to the old woman behind her, "Please go downstairs to the shopkeeper and borrow a set of paper, pen and abacus for me."

The old woman had seen many prostitutes recommend themselves, some based on their looks, others on their talents, but she had never seen one ask for paper, pen, and an abacus, so she hesitated for a moment.

Manager Sun, curious about what Zhao Zhao had prepared, smiled at the old woman and said, "Go ahead."

The old woman went down the stairs with a thud, then came back up with a creak, and placed the paper, pen, and abacus next to Zhao Zhao.

Zhao Zhao laid out the paper, dipped her brush in ink, and asked Steward Sun calmly, "May I ask, Madam, what kinds of distinguished guests are present at the Prince's banquet?"

"Princes and nobles, officials and clerks, gentry and wealthy landowners..."

"And what about the officials and merchants who have taken on these duties?" Zhao Zhao asked. "When they buy women, what do they value most?"

Although officials and businessmen have a nice-sounding title, they are ultimately still at the bottom of the social ladder.

Merchants are not like corrupt officials who can exploit the people and enrich themselves. They have to operate under heavy taxes and levies, and every penny they earn is hard-earned money.

It's hard-earned, so how can we spend it lavishly? When businessmen choose women, they are very calculating, and every penny must be spent wisely. They want women who are beautiful, talented, and preferably good at managing the household and assisting in the business.

Manager Sun realized what Zhaozhao was thinking and laughed, "You can do accounts?"

Zhao Zhao nodded, picked up a pen with one hand and placed the abacus with the other: "Grandma, just test me."

Before Steward Sun could speak, Madam Yu asked, "Five hundred taels of silver, with a monthly interest of 10%, how much should be returned after five months?" Upon hearing this, Zhao Zhao realized that this was an old account that had been settled in the brothel, and Madam Yu was covering for her. She still had to put on a show, so she started working on the abacus with one hand and picked up a pen with the other to write down the result, which she quickly came up with: "Eight hundred and five taels, two mace, and six li."

Seeing that Zhao Zhao calculated so quickly, Steward Sun suspected that the two had rehearsed beforehand, so he asked, "Seven hundred and twenty-one taels of silver, with a monthly interest rate of 35%, how much will be returned after two and a half years?"

She was using all sorts of strange numbers, and the little experience Zhao Zhao had gained from helping her friends with lending and collecting money in the building wasn't enough. Like an ugly daughter-in-law meeting her in-laws, Zhao Zhao gritted her teeth, wrote down the numbers, and started rapidly calculating on the abacus.

A moment later, Zhao Zhao had filled the entire sheet of paper with the numbers she had written, and she read out the final answer: "Five million eight hundred and six hundred and eighty-four taels, one mace, and nine li."

The shopkeeper, who had come up with the old woman, nodded: "The young lady is right."

"She is indeed a suitable girl to keep in the shop." Manager Sun nodded approvingly and smiled at Madam Yu, "You've raised a good girl."

Zhao Zhao was a clean and innocent young prostitute, with a delicate and clever appearance, a straightforward personality, and the ability to do accounting... She was just like the Yangzhou "slender horses" that merchants loved most. She could serve in bed and manage shops outside of bed. Buying her as a concubine would not be a loss at all.

After Zhao Zhao left, Steward Sun said meaningfully, "Her appearance... does resemble that Yao Niang under your command when she was young."

Mother Yu sighed with a sense of injustice: "She is Yao Niang's daughter."

"Really?" Manager Sun asked in surprise. He grabbed Mama Yu's arm, took a drag of his cigarette through her hand, and, amidst the swirling smoke, murmured softly, recalling the past, "Fourteen... the eighth year of Jingyi..."

"What's the use of you calculating all this for her?" Madam Yu interrupted coldly, seemingly displeased. "A young lady is a maid, why add to her troubles?"

Manager Sun exhaled smoke, smiling without saying a word.

Zhao Zhao is going to Yunzhou.

Everyone assumed she was just filling a vacancy and would be back soon, so they all smiled and wished her good luck in drawing a fortune stick, hoping she would find a high-ranking official at the banquet and return home in glory.

Madam Yu secretly prepared a dowry for Zhao Zhao. The package contained the fifty-tael silver note that Zhao Zhao had given her, as well as decent clothes and jewelry, making it look like a wedding for a daughter from a humble family.

“We are of lowly status, so we must learn to behave ourselves in big cities. There are always people more capable than us, and the world is vast beyond our understanding. Don’t act recklessly just because you’re clever.” Mother Yu stuffed a bag of tobacco leaves into the bundle, her usually sharp and stern face softening. “I will take care of your mother and sister.”

Zhao Zhao knew that given Yu's mother's personality, she wouldn't act out of pure kindness; she must have other motives.

For example, he was afraid that Zhaozhao would climb the social ladder and not come back, or he wanted to maintain a good relationship with Zhaozhao.

Even though she knew it, Zhao Zhao couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in her heart. She squatted down beside Yu's mother and clenched her fists to massage her legs: "Thank you, Mom... There's something I want to ask you."

Yu's mother glanced at Zhao Zhao with a cool, distant look, then turned her head away: "You want to ask who your father is?"

"Yes."

"What can you do even if you know?"

“I’ve hated my humble and lowly origins and envied others’ high and mighty status… Mother, if given a choice, who would willingly wallow in the mud?” Zhao Zhao said calmly, without sadness or joy. “I need to know where I came from and why I have to endure all this.”

Many years ago, Zhao Zhao didn't know what "lowly status" meant, nor did she know what a prostitute was.

Confused and bewildered, she was taken to the county jail by the yamen runners along with other young girls. Red-hot branding irons left deep, almost bone-deep marks on their shoulders. She walked into the street, clutching her burned shoulder, and accidentally bumped into someone. That person coldly cursed her as a little bitch.

(End of this chapter)