It had to be said—Xianjin did an excellent job of building up the atmosphere around the unveiling of the six-zhang Xuan. Within just a few days, the streets and alleys of Jing County were abuzz with talk of that ceremony—more form than substance, designed primarily to satisfy Zhang Wenbo’s vanity.

Foot traffic to the shop increased. Xianjin went next door to the fabric store and ordered three bolts of sea-green Songjiang cloth, commissioning matching outfits for all the shop assistants. Each collar was embroidered with a small “Chen Paper” in delicate script. She even spent a tael of silver to hire the fan shop’s painter across the street to sketch a tiny, refined scroll motif beside the logo. Then she asked the all-purpose domestic expert Auntie Zhang to embroider each person’s name next to the logo.

Suo’er was thrilled to have new clothes. After a while, she pointed at the three stripes on Steward Dong’s sleeve, then looked at her own empty cuff and asked curiously, “…Why aren’t ours the same?”

Xianjin set down her abacus and explained patiently, “How much is your monthly wage?”

Suo’er answered honestly, “Half a string of cash per month.”

Xianjin turned to Steward Dong. “Uncle Dong, what’s your monthly wage?”

Steward Dong wiped his forehead and replied modestly, skirting the details, “Not much, not much—two, three, four, maybe five taels of silver. Just enough to get by and support the household.”

Xianjin laughed. Alright then—has this era already reached the point of internal salary confidentiality?

She patted Suo’er’s head and smiled, “Understand now? When your monthly wage reaches two, three, four, or five taels of silver, you’ll get three stripes on your sleeve too.”

Suo’er’s eyes lit up with realization. She went around counting the stripes on everyone’s sleeves. “…Master Li has three stripes, Brother Ergou has two, Brother Sangou and a few of the Zhengs have one…”

Then she let out a dramatic wail, “I’m the only one with no stripes!”

Little Wang Sansuo slumped for three seconds, then clenched her fists with renewed determination. “But one day, I’ll definitely have five stripes!”

Xianjin’s hand paused mid-abacus. Excellent. Even the intern wants to take her CEO seat—ambition makes anyone remarkable.

As foot traffic increased, the remaining stock in the warehouse sold out in another wave. Inventory was running low, and most of what was left was cheap, hard-to-use bamboo paper. Selling that would tarnish Chen Paper’s reputation.

This issue had been troubling Li Sanshun for quite some time. The young lady manager didn’t concern herself with the workshop’s day-to-day operations—she only focused on researching how to make six-zhang and eight-zhang Xuan paper. That couldn’t be sustainable!

Six-zhang and eight-zhang Xuan weren’t papers you could produce in a day or two! If they couldn’t make six-zhang Xuan in a day, were they just not going to open shop? Once the inventory was gone, what would they sell?

Earlier, her bold declarations had eased some of his worries. But the better sales got these past few days, the more his anxiety returned—his brows were practically falling off from stress. He waited until the midday meal to intercept Xianjin, determined to pour out all his concerns.

—He’d come to realize that this young lady had a kind of power. She could calm him and even soothe the restlessness of everyone in the shop and workshop.

From a distance, he saw Xianjin hurrying over. Just as he was about to speak, she briskly instructed, “Master Li, go change your clothes—we’re heading out. Figure out whether you want to bring Brother Gou or Little Brother Zheng.”

She peeked at the water clock again. “In half a quarter-hour, we’ll meet at the shop entrance.” With that, she dashed off once more.

Li Sanshun reached out instinctively, catching nothing but a handful of busy air. To ease the awkwardness, he changed course mid-motion and scratched his head instead: waiting online, quite urgent—boss too busy, no time to deal with subordinate anxiety, what now?

He brought Zhou Ergou and climbed onto the mule cart waiting at the door. Xianjin was already seated inside, flipping through a thin booklet, leaning against the cart wall, and reading with intense focus.

Just as Li Sanshun was about to speak, the girl glanced up, lifted the curtain, and called out, “Uncle Dong, everyone’s here. Let’s go.” Then she immediately returned to her reading.

Li Sanshun’s whole bundle of anxiety got stuck in his throat.

So annoying. Even more anxious now.

The mule cart swayed and bumped along. Li Sanshun brooded and worried, achieving peak internal combustion. Eventually, he worried himself to sleep.

After about half an hour, the cart screeched to a halt. As it stopped, Li Sanshun opened his eyes and groggily followed Xianjin off the cart. Looking around, he saw they were in the middle of nowhere—just beyond lay a small village with maybe twenty households.

Li Sanshun scratched his head. “Jin girl, where are we?”

Xianjin smiled. “This is Little Cao Village.”

Li Sanshun nodded in sudden understanding, then asked, “What’s Little Cao Village?”

Xianjin: …

Steward Dong tied up the mule cart and came over with a smile. “Let’s go, we’ll head in first.”

As he led the way, he explained to Li Sanshun, “…Little Cao Village is about an hour’s walk from Jing County town. The whole village makes paper, but since they have to cross mountains and rivers, it’s hard for them to do business. These days, they make paper during the farming off-season, and harvest wheat during the busy season…”

Steward Dong arrived at a small courtyard and knocked loudly on the door bolt. “Village Chief Cao, our boss is here!”

Soon, an old man flusteredly opened the door. Seeing the group from Chen Paper, he didn’t hesitate—he first gave Li Sanshun a rough bow. “Greetings, Master Chen!”

Li Sanshun quickly stepped aside and, with his fan-sized hand, pushed Xianjin forward. “This is our workshop’s boss, Manager He!”

The old man looked at Xianjin—thinner than a hemp stalk, paler than steamed dough on the stove, and shorter than his own granddaughter. He wasn’t thrilled, and it showed on his face. He turned to Steward Dong. “You said Chen Paper’s boss was coming. The whole village stayed home today, didn’t go to the riverbank, just to wait. And you—you—you bring a little girl?”

He waved his hand like a pendulum. “Bring someone who can actually make decisions. I’ve been busy transplanting rice seedlings these past few days!”

Steward Dong smoothed his bald head, about to speak, but Xianjin gently pulled him behind her. She stepped forward with a polite bow and a humble smile. “Appearances can be deceiving. Even in a cradle, an uncle might be lying there. Though I’m young, I’m the true head of Chen Paper in Jing County—personally stamped and sealed by the old madam herself.” As she spoke, she pulled out a roll of banknotes and a neatly stacked pile of official documents from her sleeve.

“Take a look. If everything checks out today, we pay on the spot and sign the papers—cash and contract, clean and clear.”

Documents can be forged. Banknotes can’t.

The old village chief of Little Cao Village squinted at the papers, threw on his coat, and quickly opened the door with a smile. “We country folk don’t know much, but Old Madam Qu of the Chen family—we know her, we know her!”

Village Chief Cao stepped aside to let the guests in. The deeper they walked into the village, the more they saw rice straw bundles drying on the mountain slopes. Little Cao Village was built along the water, winding and meandering, and every so often, a man could be seen carrying a stack of bamboo screens down by the stream.

The more Li Sanshun looked, the less he understood. He nudged Steward Dong. “Old Dong, what is this…”

Steward Dong kept his standard smile, turned his head slightly, and spoke without moving his lips. “We don’t have the manpower to make paper anymore, right? The manager said we’re done producing—except for a few premium types. The rest, we’ll buy and resell.”

He paused, struggling with the phrasing.

“We’re becoming secondary distributors.”

“No longer paper makers—just paper movers.”