Chapter Fifty-Two: Visitors from Weinan

The Jiao family, having seen the promising future in Wei Renshi’s spice business, was happy to collaborate with him and foster a good relationship. Thus, when Wei Renshi requested to draw his dividends in advance, they agreed without hesitation.

Not only that, but the head of the Jiao family, Jiao Haiqing’s father, also purchased the other small shopfront, which was priced at three thousand strings of cash, and gifted it to Wei Renshi as a token of gratitude for curing Jiao Haiqing’s illness. Despite Wei Renshi’s repeated refusals, he could not withstand the insistence of the Jiao father and sons.

Wei Renshi kept this favor in mind, knowing he would have plenty of opportunities in the future to help the Jiao family earn money and repay their kindness. After all, Jiao Haiqing’s father had made such a generous gesture, likely hoping that whenever Wei Renshi had a profitable venture, he would remember to include their family.

After purchasing the property in Luoyang, there was still the matter of renovations, which meant several trips back and forth to the city. If the main shopfront was suitable, it would require only minor refurbishments to match the atmosphere of a tavern. Otherwise, it would take more effort.

The small shop, however, would be easy to prepare. With the weather growing ever hotter, there was no time to lose in selling ice. Once this season passed, ice would no longer be in demand.

Moreover, selling only ice would not suffice. While large quantities could be sold to wealthy estates, making various ice drinks to sell on the street could also bring in substantial income.

But Wei Renshi could hardly make all the ice drinks himself—he needed to teach someone. He was troubled by his lack of staff; buying help from the prefecture was not feasible. He had no choice but to seek out some of the old tenant workers from his family’s estate, as some of them could still be trusted.

So, upon returning from Fuchang City, Wei Renshi first stopped by the tavern to find Old Sun and asked, “Uncle Sun, when can your nephew come?”

Old Sun hurried over to apologize, saying, “Young Master, forgive me. I’ve called him several times, and he’s quite willing to work for you. But the station chief finds him indispensable and refuses to let him go. The chief has treated him well, and for the sake of their relationship, my nephew feels he can’t just leave. He said he’ll wait until things quiet down and then discuss it with the station chief again.”

The station chief referred to the head of the posthouse. Since the early Han dynasty, postal relay stations had been transformed from foot messengers to mounted couriers, with a station every thirty li.

To broaden their function and meet the needs of state administration, the Han dynasty gradually turned the single-purpose courier stations into institutions that also received and saw off traveling officials and envoys.

By the time of the open Tang dynasty, with frequent international exchanges and increased official travel, the court simply converted relay stations into guesthouses, highlighting their role as official lodging.

Because the court’s budget for guesthouses was limited and their actual expenses were great, the Tang government typically appointed wealthy local households to manage the guesthouses, naming them station chiefs, who oversaw staff, maintenance, hospitality, communications, and monthly reporting. The managing family also covered the guesthouse’s shortfalls.

Though it sounded like a losing proposition for these families, shrewd station chiefs took advantage of the social interactions at the guesthouses to conduct business, not only covering losses but also earning handsome profits.

To say nothing of other sources of income, even one aspect yielded considerable profit—since guesthouses were like official inns along the highways, hosting not only traveling officials and envoys but also merchants and travelers, all of whom paid for food and lodging.

There were many other ways to profit as well.

Fuchang’s proximity to a great metropolis like Luoyang meant heavy traffic, naturally making the guesthouse business thrive. No doubt Old Sun’s nephew was reliable and capable, which was why the station chief was unwilling to let him go.

Thinking of this, Wei Renshi smiled and said, “If he can’t come, I’ll go to him. It’ll give me a chance to quietly observe his character.”

“Young Master, forgive me!” Old Sun quickly replied. “Let me come with you.”

“No need. Just describe what he looks like, and I’ll go myself,” said Wei Renshi. “If you come with me, he’ll recognize you at once and guess who I am. Then I won’t see his true nature.”

“There are only three helpers at the guesthouse; my nephew is the tallest one. His name is Sun Peng,” Old Sun hurriedly added.

Wei Renshi nodded, intending to go the next day. It was already afternoon; if he went now, he’d return too late.

He headed home, ready to share the good news with his family about acquiring a shopfront—and even a house—in Luoyang.

The weather was growing hotter. Walking along the road, he wanted nothing more than to hide in the shade of the trees.

There were still no children playing in Daoyuan River; the heat hadn’t reached that point yet.

Wei Renshi wandered to the riverside, dipped his hand into the flowing water, washed his face, and with a timely breeze, felt much refreshed.

He plucked a blade of young grass, tucked it between his teeth, and lay down by the riverbank.

In truth, Wei Renshi was a rather carefree soul. To lie down like this, thinking nothing, doing nothing—this was his favorite state.

But ever since crossing over to the Tang dynasty, he had been driven by confusion about the era, uncertainty about his own future, and the responsibilities that came with his new body—all urging him forward.

In just a few months, he’d gone from a ruined household unable to afford meals to living free from want, and now even owned a shopfront in Luoyang.

Wei Renshi felt he’d made rapid progress.

Should he stop and rest for a while, and wait for his soul to catch up?—Nonsense!

He, a young gentleman, had the good fortune to travel twelve hundred years into the past, not to wait around for his soul!

Lying by the river, Wei Renshi’s mind was a swirl of bustling thoughts.

Beneath him the grass was as soft as a carpet, beside him the breeze gentle as a whisper; without realizing it, his mood relaxed.

The wind did not cease, the trees were lush, sunlight dazzled, and the sky was washed clear blue.

Just as Wei Renshi was basking in this pleasant tranquility, footsteps suddenly sounded behind him. Someone was coming down the path toward him.

He opened his eyes and saw it was Xi’er. “Xi’er, come sit,” he said.

Xi’er shook her head. “I was just on my way to the tavern to call you home, sir. Someone has come to see you, saying they traveled all the way from Weinan—it’s the same person who followed us back from Luoyang last time.”

Wei Renshi spat out the blade of grass in his mouth and sat up.

He hadn’t expected Liu Yuxi to come himself.

He’d barely tasted this peaceful moment before it was interrupted. With a sigh, Wei Renshi rose to his feet. “Let’s go home.”