Chapter 19: Are You Trying to Sell Me?

That year, among the elite circles of the capital, was also known as the “Black July.”

The root cause lay in an unexpected scandal: the usually well-behaved young master of the Xiao family, Xiao Kaitian, after graduating from high school, for reasons unknown, lost all sense of propriety. In a moment of reckless bravado, he attempted something untoward against the second young lady of the Gu family. If that alone wasn’t enough, during the incident, he also managed to badly injure a member of the Bian family. Instantly, the affair escalated into a fierce dispute among the Bian, Gu, and Xiao families, not to mention the tangled web of interests and relationships extending behind these powerful lineages.

It could be said that with this one reckless act, Xiao Kaitian managed to drag all eight of the capital's great families into the mire.

Even the authorities became involved. At the time, those connected to the eight families could hardly venture out without the protection of an armored convoy. The number of bodyguards and security vehicles trailing behind them was a sight to behold.

To put it dramatically, in those days, even a single careless shout in a club would have you staring down the barrels of dozens of guns.

Originally, the Zhao family was only marginally connected to this mess. Yet, for reasons no one could fathom, after Xiao Kaitian’s fall from grace, the Zhaos swiftly allied themselves with the Xiaos. Ultimately, with the engagement of Xiao Kaitian to Zhao Qixi, the Zhaos not only redefined the entire debacle but inexplicably became entangled in it, body and soul.

Among the eight great families, the Zhao family was not the most powerful overall, but in terms of wealth, they were peerless. If the Zhaos had nothing else, they certainly had money.

The saying goes that money can make the devil turn the millstone, but in the Zhao family’s case, their wealth could make the millstone grind the devil.

Once the Zhaos became involved, something must have been agreed upon among the Xiao, Zhao, and Bian families, for the matter soon fizzled out, leaving no trace behind.

If the socialites who once circled around Xiao Kaitian could be likened to cockroaches—impossible to stamp out—then the newly descended Zhao Qixi was a force of nature: a Godzilla, a Gorgo, an Eleking.

If Xiao Kaitian was the ideal match for the capital’s debutantes, then Zhao Qixi was the dream consort for the aristocracy of the Han-Tang elite.

First and foremost: the Zhao family was rich. Incredibly, unimaginably rich.

The Zhaos had no involvement in military or government affairs; their focus was commerce. No one could say for certain the true extent of their wealth, but it was common knowledge that at every national celebration—a five-year or ten-year jubilee—the Zhao family’s donations were always lavish. At the last celebration, they had even donated a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier.

Second: Zhao Qixi was the only daughter of the family. Unlike the Xiao family, which struggled to establish new branches, the Zhaos had a history of single-line inheritance. Children there were, but few survived to adulthood; each generation endured a harrowing ordeal, and in the end, only one would remain. Zhao Qixi’s generation was no exception—of her many siblings, she alone survived.

Some secretly whispered that the Zhao family had fallen into a “money pit” that had sapped their vitality.

Additionally, Zhao Qixi was a sickly girl. It was said that from birth, she was frail, bedridden for years, unable to care for herself, and had never even attended school. Her entire education, up to adulthood, had been completed beneath her own quilt at home.

Most critically, it was rumored that she was grotesquely ugly. When she was born, the family allegedly arranged for an entire hospital to be bribed into silence, sealing off any news. From childhood to adulthood, she had never appeared before outsiders. Beneath her modesty lay a face too unsightly to be shown. On her eighteenth birthday, the Zhao family supposedly rented out the entire Hilton Hotel in the capital and even cleared the surrounding ten kilometers of all traffic, all to prevent her true appearance from being seen.

Imagine, then, how truly hideous she must have been!

In summary: Zhao Qixi was the sole heiress to a fortune rivaling a nation’s, perpetually at death’s door, and so ugly as to be unpresentable. With such an array of “virtues,” how could she fail to make an impression among those who knew her?

And yet, the outcome was that she became betrothed to Xiao Kaitian.

The year their engagement was formally announced, how many socialites in the capital wept in their powder rooms, overturning countless vanities? How many dashing young men of the Han-Tang aristocracy smashed crystal glasses in frustration?

These two—truly—were the subject of unbridled envy.

Golden boy and jade girl, a match made in heaven, a union of perfect harmony—all the florid phrases one could muster would fill page after page, all brimming with envy, jealousy, and bitterness. Yet, in the end, it could all be distilled down to a single phrase: a fool paired with a medicine jar.

A perfect match.

One could only wonder how the Xiao and Zhao families had managed to maintain such vast fortunes, when their leaders could sanction such lunacy. Only the truly insane would have devised such a union, and yet it was the heads of two of the Han-Tang world’s most powerful families who orchestrated it.

Don’t people know about evolution? About genetic compatibility? About marrying into the right family? About choosing the strong and the worthy? What kind of farce was this? Was there no limit? How were those of us with merit supposed to survive? All sense of propriety—shattered!

Whatever the case, the Zhao family's only daughter, Zhao Qixi, smoothly became the mistress of the Xiao household, thoroughly ousting Jiang Churan, who had once held the upper hand.

After this union that provoked outrage throughout the Han-Tang elite, a cascade of changes followed—most notably, six months ago, the sudden and untimely death of the Xiao family patriarch, Xiao Zhengze. In an instant, the already embattled Xiao-Zhao alliance crumbled to dust.

Utterly defeated at home, Xiao Kaitian was left with no choice but to seek refuge abroad, heading to Japan in search of his elder sister Jiang Churan, in hopes of finding a way out of his predicament. Thus, the story began.

Having listened to Uncle Zhong’s spittle-flecked account of all these events, Xiao Kaitian couldn’t help but rub his brow.

“Young Master,” Uncle Zhong’s eyes had filled with tears at some point during his narration. He tugged at Xiao Kaitian’s sleeve, wiping his nose. “The lady is truly pitiful, deserving of all sympathy. In my opinion, all those people are heartless. Even after all you’ve been through, not one of them has lent a helping hand—not even the Zhaos.”

Xiao Kaitian listened in silence, thinking to himself that if he were in the Zhaos’ position, he’d feel the same—who would want to be entangled with a bankrupt, powerless fool?

“But before I left, I heard that Miss Zhao went to Haidu,” Uncle Zhong said, his words punctuated with flecks of saliva as he took a sip of tea to soothe his throat. “Hmph, if she went for your sake, at least she’s showing some conscience.”

“But it’s only what she ought to do.” He sipped his tea, making slurping noises like a mouse stealing oil. “No matter how powerful the Zhao family is, once she’s married to you, she’s part of the Xiao family. Whatever she does must be for the Xiao family’s sake.”

Even someone as self-possessed as Xiao Kaitian felt his cheeks flush at these words, now understanding the full story.

“With the Zhao family’s wealth, your troubles are a trifle,” Uncle Zhong continued, his speech growing ever clearer. “Money is what they have. What’s the harm in helping you? Bah!”

“I still think highly of the lady,” he said, setting his teacup down and inhaling the lingering aroma. “If Miss Zhao can’t resolve things, Young Master, you must let the lady handle it!”

“…” Xiao Kaitian was momentarily at a loss for words. He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Uncle Zhong, are you trying to sell me off?”