Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

Be careful what you say.

Pei Zhihui didn't even lift his eyelids, but his voice was like it was covered in ice shards, "My sister-in-law is my brother's widow. The Pei family's reputation cannot tolerate Brother Zhao's nonsense."

"Come on."

Zhao Qiyan scoffed, "Don't try to intimidate me with those rules of etiquette. I'm straightforward; if I like someone, I like them. Qiongju is capable, courageous, and she's my type. I, Zhao Qiyan, am determined to have her."

He leaned forward, exuding a sense of oppression.

"Pei Zhihui, what makes you think you can compete with me?"

"I am the second-in-command of Qionghua Pavilion. Half of the money in this building comes from me. I also oversee the business in the military. No one dares to cause trouble here because of my influence."

Zhao Qiyan patted his chest, looking arrogant. "I'll be frank, from now on, Qionghua Pavilion is under my protection. What can you, the descendant of an exiled criminal, do besides spouting platitudes? Cause her trouble?"

That's a very unpleasant thing to say.

But every word was like a needle, precisely piercing Pei Zhihui's most painful spot.

Yeah, what is he now?

He was a commoner, penniless, and even a criminal.

Not only could he not help her, but because of his damn bad luck, even if he had some money, he would spend it all due to various unexpected events.

Lately, I've been having the same dream repeatedly: no matter how hard he tries to accumulate wealth in the early stages, it all mysteriously disappears in the end.

Is he truly destined to watch her survive under the wings of another man?

Pei Zhihui gripped the wine glass so tightly that his fingers turned white, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged.

An unprecedented sense of powerlessness overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

But he showed no sign of it on his face. In fact, he took a leisurely sip of wine, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Brother Zhao's confidence is admirable."

Pei Zhihui put down his wine cup, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the token at Zhao Qiyan's waist. "I just wonder how long Brother Zhao can remain the 'second boss'?"

Zhao Qiyan was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

"I've heard the border war is tense, and His Majesty has issued an edict to redeploy troops. Brother Zhao, as a commander of a thousand, I'm afraid you won't have many days of peace and quiet left, will you?"

Pei Zhihui's tone was calm, yet it hit the nail on the head.

Zhao Qiyan's expression changed, and she scratched her hair in frustration: "Your information network is quite impressive. That's right, I'm going back to Beijing in ten days to report for duty, and afterwards I might be transferred to the front lines in the north."

Ten days.

Pei Zhihui felt a sudden sense of relief, and his tense back relaxed a bit.

Thankfully, this menace is leaving.

"Then I wish Brother Zhao a safe journey and great success in your military endeavors." Pei Zhihui raised his cup, this time with genuine sincerity.

Zhao Qiyan waved her hand irritably: "Don't give me that. Let me tell you, even if I leave, I'll still be here. If you dare to bully Qiongju, when I get back, I'll break your legs!"

Seeing Zhao Qiyan's foolish "protector of flowers" act, Pei Zhihui's gloom dissipated considerably.

Although this person is noisy, he is indeed not very cunning, and is even a bit... stupid.

There is nothing to fear.

But Zhao Qiyan's words still served as a wake-up call for him.

Ultimately, you can't rely on others.

My sister-in-law wants to find a powerful backer, wants to start a business, and doesn't want to be bullied.

Then why can't this powerful backer be him?

Pei Zhihui lowered his eyes, looking at the swirling liquid in his glass, a resolute glint flashing in his eyes.

He must pass next year's imperial examination.

Only by standing at the pinnacle of power, only by donning that purple robe, could he truly protect her behind him, instead of watching her smile obsequiously in front of other men, as he does now.

As for money...

Pei Zhihui narrowed his eyes. He couldn't give it directly, nor could he give it in Pei Zhihui's name, otherwise, given his bad luck, he definitely wouldn't be able to keep the money.

But what if it's under the name "Shen Mo"?

If he invests under a different identity, can he avoid that damn bad luck?

.

Shen Qiongju followed Shen Song to the backyard of Qionghua Pavilion.

The wine cellar is in the northwest corner of the backyard. Before you even get down the steps, an indescribable aroma hits you.

That wasn't the smell of wine; it was a strange odor mixed with rotten vegetable leaves, swill, and some kind of old mold, which hit you right in the head.

Shen Song couldn't stand the smell and gagged, covering his nose.

"Sis, I told you this stuff was bad! This isn't medicinal wine, it's practically poison. Even a pig would shake its head if you gave it to it."

Shen Qiongju didn't speak. She took out a handkerchief from her sleeve to cover her mouth and nose, and carrying the oil lamp, she walked down the steps one by one.

The dim light cast swaying shadows on the dark walls.

Along the wall, there was a neatly stacked dozen or so black pottery jars. The sealant was intact, but the stench was seeping out from the gaps between the jars.

Shen Qiongju walked to the nearest jar and reached out to break the seal.

"Ugh—" Shen Song retreated three steps away.

Shen Qiongju frowned and peered inside by the light.

The once clear wine had become murky, with a layer of grayish-white foam floating on top. The precious angelica, goji berries, and ginseng had long since swelled and rotted, resembling a pile of lifeless dead flesh.

"What a pity."

She sighed softly, but there was little panic in her voice; rather, it was a calm scrutiny.

"Sister, let's just throw it all away." Shen Song looked pained. "How much money will we lose? Those medicinal herbs alone cost us tens of taels of silver."

"It may fall, but we must know why it will fall."

Shen Qiongju found a long spoon and stirred the turbid liquid. She stared at the churning dregs, quickly reviewing the previous steps in her mind.

This batch of wine uses low-alcohol fruit wine as a base.

Although the herbs were washed, in pursuit of the so-called "fresh medicinal properties," she only dried the surface moisture before throwing them in.

This is the crux of the problem.

Low-alcohol beverages simply cannot suppress the moisture in fresh medicinal herbs. Rather than soaking them in alcohol, it's more like throwing the herbs into water and waiting for them to rot and ferment.

This isn't brewing wine; it's composting manure.

Shen Qiongju put down the long spoon and looked around the wine cellar.

My gaze finally settled on an inconspicuous little jar in the corner.

The jar was only the size of a palm, and it wasn't even covered with red paper; it was just sealed with wax.

That was an experiment she had a sudden inspiration to do a few days ago, using a high concentration of "Lie Huo Shao" that had been distilled and purified.

She happened to have a handful of unused fresh dendrobium and a few pieces of deer antler on hand, so she casually tossed them in.

"That one," Shen Qiongju pointed to the corner, "Shen Song, bring that over."

Shen Song looked disgusted, fearing it was another jar of stale water, but he still held his nose and took the jar over.

"Sis, are you opening this place too? Can we go somewhere else? The smell is too strong."

"open."

Shen Qiongju's words were concise and to the point.

Shen Song resignedly patted open the sealing clay, but the expected stench did not appear.

On the contrary, an extremely strong aroma of alcohol instantly wafted out, instantly diluting the rotten smell in the wine cellar.

The liquor had a sharp, invigorating aroma, yet in its finish it carried a strange, refreshing scent of herbs and plants—the unique fragrance of dendrobium mixed with the sweet, slightly fishy taste of deer antler, perfectly locked together by the strong liquor.