Grand Opening (2): Auspicious Opening

Zhou Yao's thoughts were still spinning when the general began to draw his sword. Yet in an instant, the weapon slipped from his grasp and hit the ground.

"You damn thing, get out of here!" A harsh voice from afar yelled. Before Zhou Yao could process it, the man who'd been harassing her had already slunk away.

Zhou Yao stepped down from the carriage and looked toward the voice. It was the young general who had caught her eavesdropping at the Qi residence that day.

He stared at Zhou Yao as if lost in thought, then scratched his head sheepishly. "It's the Dragon Boat Festival today—what are you doing outside the city?" Realizing he might be overstepping, he added quickly, "No, no, I'm not asking where you're going. It's just—I—"

"Anyway, go ahead. Your carriage doesn't need to be searched." He turned to his soldiers. "Let them pass!"

"Yes, sir!"

The carriage lurched forward, and only then did Zhou Yao exhale. The danger had passed. She called out, "Thank you!" but the young general gave no sign of having heard.

Zhou Yao wondered why he'd helped her twice now. Maybe he knew nothing of the Qi family's internal strife and assumed they were all on the same side? Or perhaps he was Qi Yanhan's man? She didn't know, but she would find out soon enough.

Su'er had slipped into Chang'an with Zhou Yao. Getting her a new identity was no small feat—household registration was strictly regulated these days. Normally, all it took was a document stamped with the princess's seal, but there was the rub.

Zhou Yao's princess seal—along with her monthly allowance—was in Consort Xi's hands. After her mother died, the King had placed her under Consort Xi's guardianship. One might expect an elderly consort to raise her properly, but Consort Xi was two-faced. She pocketed the princess's allowance and the King's gifts, all while neglecting Zhou Yao and keeping a tight grip on her remaining belongings.

As a child, Zhou Yao had gone unnoticed. She was always tucked away in the farthest corners of the palace. Everyone catered to the powerful; a child without the King's favor or a consort's protection was worth even less than a consort's pet in this deep palace.

Retrieving the princess seal was no easy task. Zhou Yao propped her chin on her hand, her brow furrowed in thought. In principle, the seal should have been returned upon her marriage, but Consort Xi always played the part of the caring, benevolent guardian. Zhou Yao had tried bringing it up with her father directly, only to be ignored or punished with copying assignments for not understanding.

Life, career, relationships—all three were crumbling. Even Zhou Yao's resilience was starting to crack.

When the carriage pulled up to the Golden Curtain Pavilion, Zhou Yao couldn't be bothered with anything else. She returned to the courtyard and sat in silence, alone.

She sat there as the moon grew hazy and the night deepened, as the moon rose high and its reflection shimmered on the water, as the pigeons fell silent and the cicadas stopped their song. She did not move.

She remained in the courtyard all night. From a distance, she looked lost in thought, but only she knew the frustration of these days—everything was going wrong.

That monk had been a fraud. He'd said the fifth of May was an auspicious day to open... Zhou Yao scoffed. A pack of charlatans, the lot of them. One day she'd tear down every one of those deceptive temples.

She stared at the same spot until the moon set, the rooster crowed, and dawn threatened to break. Then she realized: the Golden Curtain Pavilion was supposed to open again.

After yesterday's incident, who would come near the shop? Not even a stray dog.

The only one likely to show up was Bige, and he'd probably wreck the place.

For days, no amount of advertising brought in a single customer. Business was dead, and the daily ledgers showed nothing but losses. Zhou Yao knew this couldn't go on. If things didn't improve, she'd have no money. And without money, she couldn't repay Qi Yanhan.

Dwelling on it only made her more miserable. She stayed inside all day and sat alone in the courtyard each night. She didn't cry or throw a tantrum—she just sat, silent.

Then one day, Bige came charging through the yard, kicking up sand and stones, and knocked over a piece of glass. The shatter snapped Zhou Yao out of her stupor.

After days of drifting, she finally pulled herself together and summoned Cuiwei. She had Cuiwei help her dress properly—she was going to the palace.

For a palace visit, Zhou Yao styled her hair in a married woman's coiffure and dressed strictly by protocol. She selected thirty sets of colored glass teacups, fifteen green glass bracelets, six gold-washed glass necklaces, and four jade-like glass vases. She packed them in sandalwood cases and loaded them onto the carriage.

After passing the palace guards, Zhou Yao carried the glass inside. She went directly to the Empress's northern residence, announced herself, and waited while the servants conveyed her arrival.

The Empress's personal attendant, Aunt An, emerged from the Pepper Palace.

Seeing her, Zhou Yao knew the Empress would grant an audience. Colored glass was a rare treasure among palace women. It was more brittle than jade, and the journey from the Western Regions to Chang'an spanned thousands of miles—few pieces survived intact. It was a matter of luck, not something you could buy.

Now that she'd recreated the technique, Zhou Yao felt she had leverage. She presented a set of each glass piece to the Empress.

Zhou Yao picked up the teacup the Empress had offered and took a delicate sip. "Your Majesty, I know you are vastly learned. When I acquired these treasures recently, my first thought was to bring them to you for review." A faint smile had played at the corner of her mouth since she entered, giving her an air of respect—neither humble nor arrogant, perfectly composed.

She glanced at Cuiwei, who promptly handed the prepared items to Aunt An, who laid them on the table before the Empress.

"I worried that disturbing you so suddenly might seem presumptuous, Your Majesty, but keeping such treasures to myself made me uneasy." Zhou Yao kept her eyes on the table, but her attention was on the Empress. The Empress picked up a colored glass cup, a flash of surprise in her eyes, gone in an instant.

Zhou Yao let a confident smile surface, feigning ignorance. "You understand these pieces far better than I do, Your Majesty. You must have a discerning eye."

"No need for flattery," the Empress said at last. "Yao'er, I know why you've come."

"Then I won't beat around the bush." Zhou Yao's smile faded. "Since you know I'm here for the princess seal, why didn't you turn me away at the door?"

The Empress sighed and closed her eyes. "Consort Xi is advanced in years. If I help you, what if she can't bear it?"

"I've endured this for years. In my view, a little longer makes no difference." She waved a hand. "I cannot help you. Take your things back."

"No need," Zhou Yao said, setting down the teacup. "When I said they were gifts, I meant it. And it's more than this." She signaled Cuiwei, who presented the prepared list to the Empress. Zhou Yao smiled. "All the glass pieces on this list are also for you, Your Majesty. In return, I ask only for one thing that you alone can grant."

The glass was worth a fortune; even the Empress would be pleased. She studied Zhou Yao. "What is it?"

"Just a piece of your calligraphy."

The Empress raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. After a moment, she picked up a brush and wrote a piece for Zhou Yao.

After securing the calligraphy, Zhou Yao didn't rush out. Instead, she distributed generous tips to the servants in every palace, sparing no expense. Cuiwei had been tense the entire time and only relaxed once they stepped through the palace gates.

"Madam, what are you doing? Why give away all those valuables for a piece of the Empress's writing?" Cuiwei was baffled, but Zhou Yao took her hand and pressed a finger to her lips.

"Walls have ears," she warned. "Get in the carriage first. I'll explain later."

After leaving the palace, the carriage took them to the temple where Zhou Yao had been swindled before the Dragon Boat Festival opening.

"Oh, I see. Madam wants to deal with those cheats. Do we beat them up or tear the place down? They treated us terribly last time; I can help this time."

Zhou Yao studied Cuiwei—whether she was genuinely naive or just using the chance to tease her—and sighed.

"Do you remember what those swindlers look like?"

"Yes, yes." Cuiwei nodded eagerly.

"Go find them. They're the sort who'll do anything for money. Buy them off, and we'll put on a show at the Golden Curtain Pavilion."

Cuiwei nodded and did as she was told. Zhou Yao had been right—the men were indeed fakes. The real monks had left years ago, leaving the temple empty. These impostors had taken it over, spruced it up, and opened it as Fahua Temple, fleecing the gullible.

Zhou Yao was surprised how quickly Cuiwei ferreted out the truth. Cuiwei grinned. "Thanks to your money, those fake monks confessed everything and agreed to help!"

Zhou Yao nodded. Now all they had to do was wait for an "auspicious day" to handle the rest.

After bribing the false monks, Zhou Yao stayed quiet, letting everyone think she'd given up. Then she sent messengers across the city, beating drums and gongs. Weren't the other shops struggling with piles of unsold pottery? She'd "help" them by driving down prices.

Zhou Yao was selling pottery too—at lower prices and with better craftsmanship.

Just as at the Dragon Boat Festival opening, Zhou Yao had the plaque draped in red silk, with firecrackers and suona horns making a racket across Chang'an. The spectacle rivaled a wedding! It drew a crowd, many pointing and whispering, while others waited to see what would unfold.

"Everyone, today the Golden Curtain Pavilion reopens! I'm honored that our fine glassware has earned the admiration and endorsement of Her Majesty the Empress. So I've specially sought a blessing for our shop."

Zhou Yao clapped, and servants displayed the calligraphy with the Empress's seal. It read: 'Clear within and without, bright and honest.'

"Today, any guest spending over ten thousand guan may go upstairs to choose fine glass pieces. Those with purchases totaling fifty thousand taels of gold may ascend to the top floor for a close look at Her Majesty's calligraphy!"

The crowd exchanged glances and murmured.

Before anyone could decide, the fake monks Zhou Yao had hired—clad in kasaya robes and clutching cheap ritual implements—sat in a circle in the middle of the shop, heads bowed, muttering unintelligible chants.

Seeing the crowd still waver, Zhou Yao seized the moment. "I've invited these masters to bless the guests of the Golden Curtain Pavilion. Anyone who spends here will enjoy smooth fortunes, pass exams, have safe deliveries, and abundant wealth—all wishes granted!"

"Today we also offer a special deal: fine porcelain. These pieces were never meant for sale—their quality is fit for the palace. But Her Majesty, in her benevolence, has graciously permitted me to sell them here."

"Long live Her Majesty!" someone shouted, and many echoed, "Her Majesty is benevolent!"

Zhou Yao was pleased with the impact. "Since that's the case, let's take advantage of this reopening to have a loss-leader sale, as a token of my friendship. How about it?"

"Yes!"

"Madam, enough talk—let us in!"

"Indeed, we're waiting!"

The crowd stirred, and after the display, they scrambled to buy. Seeing their enthusiasm, Zhou Yao lifted the red silk from the plaque.

From this moment on, the Golden Curtain Pavilion was officially open!