Chapter 26: Demanding Answers at the Brokerage

An Chunfeng carried a small basket with her today, containing the patterns she had crocheted a few days prior. She took them out and handed them to Qiushui. "Naturally, I’m not just talking about crochet. These patterns aren't just for ribbons; they can be fashioned into mesh shawls and shrugs. That way, we can stock new items as autumn approaches!"

Qiushui took the patterns to examine them closely, her heart filled with joy. "Excellent! Sister An, you truly understand fashion even better than I do. I shall have the seamstress make sample garments immediately."

She had not expected that, having just signed the contract, An Chunfeng would already produce such a variety of patterns, and even identify designs perfectly suited for the autumn season. She felt certain that the hundreds of brothels in the capital would find these to be a massive success.

An Chunfeng softened her smile, speaking only after a moment. "Shopkeeper Qiu, would it be possible for me to receive an advance on my earnings?"

Since they had only just signed the contract, asking for money felt a bit embarrassing.

Qiushui was momentarily stunned, then realized that as An Chunfeng rented her home, she might be short on funds. She nodded. "Sister An is a proprietor here as well; of course, you may take an advance. Would one hundred taels suffice?"

She was indifferent to the advance; apart from the fact that they were now partners, the potential profit from these patterns alone made her more than willing to lend An Chunfeng the money.

One hundred taels was a significant sum, and An Chunfeng was not one to be blinded by greed. Furthermore, keeping such a large amount at her house would be unsafe.

An Chunfeng requested only ten taels. Once Qiushui had a clerk deliver the money, she took her leave.

Song Qi had been drinking tea nearby the whole time. As soon as An Chunfeng left, he stood up and said, "I won't waste any time; I’m heading to the government office to file the documents. Would you like to come with me today? We could go boating on Yue Lake on the way back."

Qiushui shot him a reproachful look. "There is so much to do right now, how could I possibly have time for boating? You should focus on filing those papers quickly. Only once the official seal is applied will I feel truly at ease."

Song Qi laughed heartily. "It’s only some women’s undergarments; what is there to be so anxious about?"

Though he spoke in jest, he dared not delay his sweetheart’s affairs. He had the fabric shop’s clerk hitch the carriage and hurried toward the yamen.

Meanwhile, An Chunfeng reached the street and hailed a donkey cart for hire. She gave the driver the name of the Wanfu Agency, and for ten copper coins, the old man drove her directly there.

She couldn't help but appreciate the convenience of the capital once more. She was terrible with directions, but with these roadside donkey carts, she could get wherever she needed to go with ease.

Coming to the agency now was an impulsive decision. While at the fabric shop, she had intended to tell Qiushui about Madam Zhuang and her group visiting her home. As a local who understood the industry's unwritten rules, Qiushui’s advice would have been valuable. However, upon seeing Mr. Song, she had dismissed the thought. She and Qiushui were merely business partners, not intimate confidantes.

Moreover, their partnership had only just begun. Burdening a colleague with personal troubles that might affect work only created unnecessary pressure. Besides, that Mr. Song was a man; if he misunderstood and thought she was involved in vice, it would be mortifying. As a litigator, he was prone to meddling, so it was better to keep silent for now.

Since her house was rented through the agency, the property manager and the landlord were the ones truly responsible when a tenant faced trouble.

Upon arriving at the agency, An Chunfeng went straight to Mr. San, the manager in charge of her property. Before she could even enter, she heard a roar coming from the clerical office: "I sent you to collect rent from the tenant, and you’re out drawing water? The agency can’t find you when they need you—is that your job? And you did it for free, without earning a single copper! You should have found a way to persuade the tenant to pay. If they pay, they can find someone else to fetch their water..."

Then came a weak voice: "The tenant had no choice. He is studying for exams; if he pays the rent, he has no money for water, and his health is poor. I was just helping him out this one time."

"Even for once, you should have charged! You helped him today, but what about tomorrow? You think you’re helping him, but you’re actually ruining him. If he can't afford a single room, he should share a dormitory or live in a cellar. In the capital, if you have no money, don't try to save face or act like a poor, arrogant master. Tell me, did you set his rent to the lowest rate in the agency? You are paid by this agency; you eat the agency’s food, so you must help the agency earn money. Do you understand?"

After a moment of silence, the reprimand continued, clearly born of extreme anger: "Are you trying to get fired? If you don’t want to work, then get out. If I hadn't thought you were honest and obedient, the agency would have replaced you long ago!"

At that moment, An Chunfeng knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.

Seeing his "troublesome" client arrive, Mr. San greeted her warmly, telling the dejected young Xiao Lin to get out and wait.

As a clerk served tea, Mr. San began to ask if she was satisfied with the house, if she needed to renew the lease next month, or if she needed new furniture—he could arrange the finest rosewood for a small fee. Did she need a cook or a laundress? If not for the fact that the yard only had a grove of bamboo, he would have asked if she needed a gardener.

An Chunfeng nodded, saying the house was satisfactory and the environment was good, but she did not wish to renew the lease.

Mr. San was surprised and hurriedly asked why.

An Chunfeng frowned, looking troubled. "Mr. San, I only agreed to rent that place because you said the security was good. But yesterday, some people showed up for no reason and told me to get out of Pear Blossom Lane. I still have ten days left on my month, so I’m here to ask: if I move out, will the agency refund the remaining ten days of rent?"

Mr. San was sipping tea, expecting An Chunfeng to complain that the rent was too high or that she needed an extension. Every time he collected rent, tenants always found some excuse to demand a discount. He never expected a request for a ten-day refund. He choked on his tea and began to cough violently. "Cough, cough, cough! Mistress An... cough! This matter... that’s not how it works!"

Nobody in the world demanded a refund after living in a place for twenty days.

An Chunfeng turned her head away. "Why isn't that how it works? The whole lane saw it! It’s not like it’s a lie!"

Mr. San flushed with anger. "In Yongle District, who would dare tell a client of the Wanfu Agency to get out?"

An Chunfeng said slowly, "It was a woman smoking a long-stemmed pipe. She said she was Madam Zhuang!"

"Madam Zhuang?"

Mr. San repeated the name, his mind racing to search for the origins of this familiar figure. A moment later, his expression shifted, though he remained silent. He took a sip of tea before saying, "Was it because you didn't pay, Mistress An? What else did they say?"

An Chunfeng slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Why should I pay? I want to move out! Your property is tainted. I rented a house to live a clean and honest life, and your property has turned me into some kind of courtesan or flower-girl. Not only do you owe me a refund, but you owe me compensation for the damage to my reputation!"

At the mention of monetary compensation, Mr. San’s mind cleared. He studied An Chunfeng carefully: her face was bare, devoid of makeup, with a small, plain flower in her hair and a faded, simple dress—the attire of a widow. Her gaze was steady and fearless, her manner dignified. She did not look like the sort of woman he had expected, so he blurted out, "May I ask, Mistress An, how did Madam Zhuang and her group leave?"

"How else would they leave? She brought her people there to spout nonsense, so I threw them out!"

Hearing that they had been "thrown out," Mr. San gasped, still unable to believe it. "You chased them out?" he asked, conveniently ignoring the word "thrown."