Killer Queen: Tyrant, prepare to die!

Chapter 61 A down-on-his-luck young master sells embroidery patterns on the street, only to be spotted by a widow at first glance!

The mornings in Hangzhou begin with the hustle and bustle of teahouses.

The "Yipin Teahouse" in Qinghefang is built along the street, and the private seats on the second floor offer a view of the entire street. At this moment, a woman in plain clothes wearing a veiled hat sits by the window, accompanied by a girl dressed as a maid—it is Ye Huang and Jin Shu.

The tea was top-quality Longjing, and the snacks were exquisite, but Ye Huang's mind was not on the food and drink.

Her gaze fell on the street corner downstairs.

There was a simple stall there, with a faded blue cloth spread on the ground, on which a dozen or so embroidery patterns were neatly arranged. The stall owner was a young man in his early twenties, wearing a slightly worn indigo long gown. He had a thin face, but his eyes and brows revealed a scholarly air, making him look more like a failed scholar than a merchant.

He was holding an embroidery pattern and patiently explaining it to a passing woman:

"Madam, look, this is the 'Spring Dawn in Jiangnan' needlework technique, using double-sided embroidery with different colors. From the front, it's peach blossoms in full bloom, but from the back, it's willow leaves swaying gently. There are probably no more than three people in Hangzhou who know this skill these days."

The woman seemed persuaded and asked the price. The man quoted a number, but the woman shook her head and left.

He wasn't annoyed; he simply carefully put away the embroidery pattern and picked up another one.

Jinshu muttered softly, "Miss, is this the Qian Sihai you've been looking for...?"

Ye Huang hummed in agreement, her gaze never leaving the person.

Qian Sihai.

The former young master of the Qian family, the textile manufacturing family in Jiangnan. Three years ago, the Qian family refused to conspire with the Liu family to monopolize the silk road in Jiangnan. As a result, they were framed by Liu Chengming. The accounts were falsified, the goods were seized, and creditors forced them to come to their door. In the end, the old master of the Qian family died of anger, and all the family property was used to pay off the debts. Only this only son was left to wander the streets.

These were stated in Shen Anbang's secret letter.

But what the letter didn't mention was that despite his current state of destitution, every embroidery pattern he displayed was a masterpiece. Even more remarkable was his character—remaining neither servile nor arrogant despite rejection, and his eyes still shone as he introduced the pieces.

He's someone who can get things done.

"Jinshu," Yehuang put down her teacup, "go and invite that young master up. Tell him... I'd like to see his embroidery patterns."

---

When Qian Sihai was invited to the private room on the second floor, he looked wary.

He had met all sorts of people these days—some genuinely wanted to buy embroidery patterns, some were curious about his family, and others were sent by the Liu family to probe his true intentions. The woman in front of him, wearing a veil, had a calm demeanor and her maidservants were well-behaved; she didn't seem to come from an ordinary family.

"Which painting would you like to see, Madam?" he asked, his voice clear and melodious.

Ye Huang didn't answer, but gestured for Jin Shu to take the bundle of embroidery patterns from his hands. Jin Shu spread the embroidery patterns out on the table one by one. There were twelve patterns in total, with different themes such as flowers, birds, insects, fish, landscapes, and figures, but the needlework was extremely exquisite.

"Double-sided embroidery, seed stitch embroidery, gold thread embroidery, random stitch embroidery..." Ye Huang's fingertips lightly stroked a "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" painting. "Young Master seems to know them all."

Qian Sihai said calmly, "It's a family heirloom; please excuse my poor attempt to impress you, Madam."

"A family heirloom?" Ye Huang raised her eyes, her gaze behind the veil seemingly piercing through one's soul. "When did the exquisite 'Thousand-Thread Embroidery' technique of the Qian family of Jiangnan become a common street vendor's craft?"

Qian Sihai's expression changed drastically, and he took a half step back: "Who is Madam?"

"Sit down and let's talk." Ye Huang gestured for Jin Shu to pour tea. "My surname is Ye, and I come from the north. I'd like to start a fabric business in Hangzhou. I've heard that Young Master Qian is an expert in this field, so I've come to seek his advice."

Qian Sihai hesitated for a moment, but still sat down. His back was straight, like a taut bow.

"I dare not presume to ask for your advice." He spoke in a distant tone, "The Qian family has fallen, and I am now merely a pattern seller; I cannot offer any assistance to you, Madam."

"Is that so?" Ye Huang picked up her teacup and asked slowly, "Then let me ask you, young master—if I wanted to open a silk shop in Hangzhou, would it be better to choose a location in Qinghefang or Sanyuanfang?"

Qian Sihai was taken aback, and subconsciously replied, "Qinghefang has a large flow of customers, but the rent is high and the competition among peers is fierce. Sanyuanfang is a bit remote, but it is close to the dock, making it convenient for the flow of goods. Moreover, there are many well-off families living around it who are willing to spend money on clothing."

"If I want to produce high-end fabrics, primarily targeting the wives and daughters of officials, how should I price them?"

"Divided into three grades." Qian Sihai said without hesitation, "Ordinary brocade is fifteen taels a piece; brocade with subtle patterns is twenty-five taels; if it is a custom-made piece with different colors on both sides or with gold and silver threads... it starts at fifty taels, with no upper limit."

"Where's the supply?"

"Suzhou's Song brocade, Nanjing's Yun brocade, and Sichuan's Shu brocade each have their own advantages and disadvantages. But if you really want to make something unique, you have to set up your own weaving workshop, hire good craftsmen, and control every step of the process from silk to finished product."

He answered fluently, and his eyes unconsciously shone with a brilliance—the familiarity that comes from years of immersion in this field.

Ye Huang listened quietly, and only after he finished answering did she ask the most crucial question:

"If I want the name 'Jinxiufang' to resound throughout Jiangnan within three years, becoming the top choice for officials and wealthy families buying materials—what do you think we should do, young master?"

Qian Sihai was stunned.

He looked at the mysterious woman before him. Jinxiufang? A name he'd never heard of. Reputed throughout Jiangnan for three years? What a boast.

But for some reason, the long-dormant fire in my heart was stirred by these words.

"Madam," he began cautiously, "in the fabric industry, reputation and years of experience matter. It's difficult for new brands to make a name for themselves."

"So we need a new approach." Ye Huang put down her teacup. "Let me say a few words, young master—'brand,' 'membership system,' and 'scarcity marketing.'"

Qian Sihai frowned deeply.

He had never heard of any of these words before.

Ye Huang was not in a hurry and slowly explained:

"The brand is about making 'Jinxiufang' not just about fabrics, but also about status, taste, and uniqueness. In the future, when people mention Jinxiufang, they won't think of 'that fabric shop,' but rather 'that shop where only the elite can buy.'"

Qian Sihai's eyes widened slightly.

"Membership system," Ye Huang continued, "with entry requirements, only accepting specific guests. Members enjoy priority shopping, exclusive customization, and previews of new products. Non-members... can't even get in the door."

"This..." Qian Sihai's breathing quickened, "This will offend a lot of customers!"

"That's exactly what I want," Ye Huang said coldly. "The more unattainable something is, the more we want it. That's 'hunger marketing'—only ten limited editions are released each month, and the highest bidder wins. Sold out? Wait until next month. Want one? Get in line."

Each word struck Qian Sihai's heart like a hammer blow.

He had been in the fabric business for over a decade, learning from his father the principles of "genuine goods at fair prices, honesty with everyone, and building good relationships." But what this woman said... completely overturned all those rules!

But strangely enough, he found it... to make sense!

If things really went this way, Jinxiufang wouldn't need to compete with ordinary fabric shops for customers. It would carve out its own niche, catering only to the very top tier of customers. Once its reputation took off, it would snowball—

The more expensive it is, the more people will buy it; the harder it is to buy, the more it reflects one's status.

"Madam," Qian Sihai's voice trembled, "where did you learn all this?"

"That's not important." Ye Huang looked at him. "What's important is whether Young Master Qian is willing to gamble with me this time?"

Qian Sihai clenched his fist.

He recalled that rainy night three years ago, when his father, coughing up blood, grabbed his hand and said, "Sihai... the Qian family's craft... must not be lost..."

He recalled Liu Chengming's hypocritical smile: "Why be so stubborn, Old Master Qian? Cooperate with my Liu family, and we'll give you 30% of the Jiangnan Silk Road."

He recalled the day their family property was confiscated, when his mother tearfully placed the last embroidery pattern into his arms: "My son... keep this as a memento..."

Three years.

He endured humiliation and hardship, wandering the streets, guarding these embroidery patterns, not to live a life of mere survival.

It was to wait for an opportunity.

An opportunity to turn things around and get revenge.

"Madam," Qian Sihai raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, "why did you choose me?"

"Because you're knowledgeable, you have a strong sense of justice, and you haven't let the rules of this world wear down your last bit of spirit." Ye Huang said bluntly, "What I want isn't a manager, but a partner. I'll give you 30% of the shares in Jinxiufang, and you'll be the apparent boss. I'll provide the money and the ideas, and you'll provide the effort and the connections."

Thirty percent dry shares!

Qian Sihai's heart pounded like a drum.

What a generous woman! She's willing to give 30% of her shares to a down-on-his-luck person she's just met?

"You...trust me?"

"I trust my own judgment." Ye Huang stood up, walked to the window, and looked down at the bustling street below. "I also believe that the fire in Young Master Qian's heart has not been extinguished."

Silence spread through the private room.

Jinshu held her breath and looked at Qian Sihai.

for a long time.

Qian Sihai suddenly stood up and took three steps back.

Then--

"Bang!"

He knelt down, his forehead slamming heavily against the blue bricks.

"Master!" His voice was hoarse, yet each word was firm and resolute. "Qian Sihai is willing to give everything to follow you! If Jinxiufang fails, Sihai will atone with his life!"

Ye Huang turned around, her veil fluttering lightly.

"stand up."

She reached out her hand to help.

"From today onwards, you are Manager Qian of Jinxiufang."

"I want you to open the first store within three months."

"As for the Liu family—"

She paused, her voice hardening:

"What I owe you, what the old man owes money to..."

"I will make them pay back their principal and interest."

Qian Sihai raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed.

Three years.

He finally waited for this day.

---

[Next Chapter Preview: The Mysterious Opening of Jinxiufang! The First Piece of Fabric Fetches an Astounding Price—Shocking the Entire City of Hangzhou!]