Chapter Forty-Three: The Local Magnate

"Your master is...?" Qin Zhen inquired.

He instinctively assumed it was the county magistrate.

Unexpectedly, the man replied, "Master Huang."

The coastal county had three major clans: the Huangs, the Chens, and the Fangs. They monopolized the local industries—textiles, grain, porcelain—and their families prospered, their wealth and provisions abundant. They were the region’s true gentry.

To put it simply, the term ‘gentry’ evolved from village associations. When someone in a village found fortune, the whole village would unite as a community. As these village associations expanded, bound by shared interests, their leaders would emerge as local gentry—what common folk called landed tycoons.

At this stage, ordinary people were still just ‘grassroots,’ with no support to rely on. If a family grew dissatisfied with mere county-level influence, they would invest in educating their next generation, urging them to study and read, hoping to win honors and greater opportunities.

Once a title was won, the entire clan would expand into larger prefectures, gathering connections and resources, completing their initial accumulation of power. If their descendants secured official positions, they would join forces with other families of their rank, forming a true aristocratic house.

By then, the family had truly rooted itself in local society and was known as an eminent clan—or, in some cases, a ‘cold gate,’ a family risen from humble beginnings.

With officials and connections in hand, these clans would aggressively seize resources to feed their own. They would monopolize essential industries and meddle in any others, seeking a share of every pie.

At this point, they were no longer mere commoners, but had risen to a level above the rest, almost equal to the local government. Newly appointed officials often had to gauge their mood, for it was an open secret that imperial authority seldom reached the countryside. Even imperial edicts had to be disseminated to the people by scholars under these families’ employ.

Of course, such aristocratic houses rarely survived long. Once they were dripping with wealth, imperial power would inevitably strike them down.

Who could resist the temptation of a granary that grows itself?

Those very few clans that survived centuries of turmoil and dynastic change would rise even higher, evolving into true noble houses.

There is a saying: “The emperor and the gentry rule the land together.” The ‘gentry’ in this saying were born of these noble houses.

By this stage, the throne itself could no longer determine their fate. Generations of effort had brought them to the pinnacle of power, their say in national affairs nearly final. Even the emperor, wishing to undertake great projects, had to weigh his options and offer appeasement!

Naturally, the Huang family was nowhere near the power of such top-tier houses. At best, they were a rising local clan, on the path to becoming an aristocratic house.

Yet, even so, these families could not be underestimated, especially in these remote and barren parts. Here, Master Huang’s word might well carry more weight than the county magistrate’s.

“The advisor’s surname is Huang,” Liu Quan reminded him.

In the county seat, power was roughly divided among three factions: the outsiders led by the magistrate, the local gentry represented by the advisor, and the fence-sitters who played both sides.

Whenever an official assumed office far from home, he would always hire a local advisor—for obvious reasons.

“So it’s Master Huang! Please, take me to him!” Qin Zhen responded swiftly. This Master Huang was likely the county’s second-in-command. Such a person must not be slighted.

The steward led Qin Zhen down the main road, and soon they arrived at a stately residence.

At the gate, the household servants stood tall, wooden batons in hand, exuding an air of arrogance granted by borrowed power.

Maidservants in light attire hurried to and fro, their faces fragrant with youth.

Beyond the stone screen lay an exquisite rock garden, with drifting tree fluff dazzling the eyes.

“My word, what a grand mansion!” Liu Quan couldn’t help but exclaim, even he was shaken by the opulent courtyard.

The steward looked down on him with disdain, inwardly cursing Liu Quan as a country bumpkin.

Yet when he saw the calm face of Qin Zhen, he was slightly surprised.

Following the steward through the garden, they reached the rear courtyard, where the antique arrangement exuded scholarly elegance.

Inside, an elderly man with white hair was writing at his desk, his brushstrokes powerful and flowing like dragons and serpents.

“Master, the guests have arrived,” the steward announced with deference, making the old man’s identity plain. With that, he stepped aside to wait quietly.

Liu Quan craned his neck, reading the characters aloud, “Friend of Women? Master Huang’s breadth of heart is something we grassroots folk can never hope to match.”

“That reads ‘A Home Away from Home,’” Qin Zhen corrected him irritably.

Master Huang set down his brush with a faint smile and looked at Qin Zhen with some curiosity. “You can read?”

“I’ve read a few books and know a handful of characters,” Qin Zhen replied with calm dignity.

Master Huang’s interest was piqued. He smiled and asked, “What books?”

“The Art of War by Sun Tzu, Methods for Making Firearms, and Postpartum Care for Sows,” Qin Zhen replied steadily.

Master Huang hadn’t heard of any of them. Judging by the titles, they didn’t sound like proper books, probably some outlandish nonsense. Of course, that made sense—rural riffraff could hardly be expected to understand the cardinal rites and moral principles.

Thinking thus, Master Huang’s interest faded. He slowly made his way to a solid wood armchair and sat, two lively maids attending to him—one massaging his legs and shoulders, the other peeling grapes and feeding them to him.

“I hear from Jue’er you want to open a fish shop in the county?”

“The advisor’s name is Huang Jue,” Liu Quan reminded.

“That’s right,” Qin Zhen nodded.

Master Huang pursed his lips. A third maid came out, holding a tray with a key and a gray jacket, the character ‘Huang’ stitched on the front.

Qin Zhen wasn’t sure what Master Huang intended.

“I’ve found a shop for you—right across from the county office. Move in and use it as you like. From now on, I’ll buy all the fish you bring in.”

He glanced at Qin Zhen and added, “That includes any fish you sell to Wujiang City.”

In that instant, Qin Zhen understood completely. This Master Huang intended to swallow up his little fishing village, to make Qin Zhen his lackey!

“Master Huang, isn’t this a bit inappropriate?” Qin Zhen’s expression hardened.

“You dare refuse?” the steward snapped. “Within a hundred miles, countless people would kill to be a Huang family servant! If you know what’s good for you, put on that jacket. If not, don’t blame me for getting rough!”

A sudden clatter of footsteps announced the arrival of over a dozen Huang family servants, wielding wooden clubs as they flooded the courtyard, surrounding Qin Zhen and his companion.

What was this? Wasn’t Huang Jue Master Huang’s own son? Since when did a father seize his son’s business?

Was there discord between the Huangs? He’d never heard of that!

Liu Quan’s face went pale.

“Master Huang.”

Yet Qin Zhen remained unruffled, meeting Master Huang’s sharp gaze and speaking in a steady voice.

“This venture is one I share with Advisor Huang, Constable Chen, and the county magistrate. Robbing me openly isn’t proper, is it? Everyone knows the Huang family is powerful, a dominant force in these parts, far beyond the likes of us. But surely, you could at least let us sip the soup, if not eat the meat?”

Master Huang slowly rose and approached Qin Zhen, his aged brows furrowed with menace.

“And if I refuse?”