By the time she returned to the Marquis’s residence, it was already afternoon.

Bai Tang held three books in her hands and headed toward Li Muyun’s courtyard.

Li Muyun was studying, barely able to stay awake.

He desperately wanted to throw himself onto the bed and sleep, but with the autumn examinations only days away, he didn’t dare.

Just as he was struggling to keep himself alert, the servant Fu An came in and said, “Young Master, the young lady has arrived.”

Li Muyun’s drowsiness instantly vanished.

After saying those harsh words last night, he had worried he might’ve been too cruel and had upset his cousin too much.

Now, seeing her again, he realized he had actually been too soft.

Otherwise, why would she still be so clingy?

“Cousin,”

Bai Tang walked in.

A gentle smile graced her face as she handed over the three books. “These were the books Lord Cheng of the Court of Judicial Review studied before his autumn exam. I borrowed them from Miss Cheng for a few days. I hope they might help you.”

“Lord Cheng?” Li Muyun sneered. “He came from a humble background. What kind of good books could he possibly have read? You think I, Li Muyun, can’t even afford a few books?”

Bai Tang’s expression froze. “That’s not what I meant. Of course you can afford books, but these contain Lord Cheng’s personal notes…”

“Enough!” Impatience showed on Li Muyun’s face. “I don’t need you to worry about my affairs. You’re a proper young lady living in the Marquis’s residence — don’t keep wandering into the men’s quarters. It’s not good for your reputation, don’t you understand?”

Tears instantly welled up in Bai Tang’s eyes.

She quickly turned away and didn’t even dare to wipe them, whispering, “I was too forward. I’m sorry, Cousin. It won’t happen again!”

She clutched the books and rushed out.

Watching her stumble away, Li Muyun felt an inexplicable irritation.

Bai Tang ran straight back to her room and broke into heavy sobs behind closed doors.

Li Zhiyue truly couldn’t understand what was so good about her brother that Bai Tang could be so lovesick over him.

Later, when Li Suifeng returned, he brought news.

After the Bai family scandal exploded, the Emperor ordered the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate to jointly investigate corruption.

But the deeper they dug, the more they found that the corrupt officials were all royal relatives.

If punished, half the royal family would be implicated.

So, the case was brushed aside and quietly dropped.

“That’s it?” Li Zhiyue was in disbelief. “Not even a token punishment?”

Li Suifeng replied, “There are no scapegoats to offer. They’re all close relatives of the imperial family. Moving against one could shake everything. Even the Emperor doesn’t dare make a rash move.”

Li Zhiyue was silent.

With so many parasites within the royal family and an Emperor turning a blind eye, the Great Wei Dynasty felt like a rotten house on the verge of collapse.

“The evidence collected by the Ministry and Censorate was publicly burned in court,” Li Suifeng said with a sneer. “Now I finally understand why the old man refuses to attend court. The place is a cesspool.”

Li Zhiyue narrowed her eyes.

Burned?

Wait — she suddenly remembered something.

She paced around, furrowing her brows.

Then it hit her.

That autumn, a ship from Jiangnan headed for the capital caught fire.

All the silk on board was destroyed.

When the news reached the capital, silk prices skyrocketed several times over, and silk merchants made a fortune.

Now it was autumn again.

That fire was imminent!

Li Zhiyue quickly headed toward her own courtyard, calling out, “Moyu, go fetch Li Qingsong.”

Li Qingsong was the chief steward in charge of all purchases.

He entered with a slight bow. “At your command, Young Lady.”

“I want all the silk in the capital,” Li Zhiyue ordered. “Send people to every textile shop immediately. Store some in the Marquis’s residence, and the rest in our estate warehouses. Keep them safe.”

By now, Li Qingsong had full confidence in her.

Whatever she ordered, he carried out without question.

He withdrew funds from the accounts and dispatched people immediately.

Li Zhiyue calculated how much money she could mobilize.

Her two teahouses brought in a net profit of about 12,000 taels a month.

They’d been open for only two months, and with membership fees included, they had earned over 30,000 taels.

Her theater’s tickets were in high demand and booked out for a month, with about 15,000 taels available in liquid funds.

In total, she had about 50,000 taels to buy silk.

That’s not a small amount — equivalent to about 30 million RMB in modern terms.

It sounded like a lot, but to buy out all the silk in the capital? That would be difficult.

To dominate the market, she would also need to buy up silk in surrounding cities — and for that, her funds would fall short.

Li Zhiyue kept calculating, and finally let out a slow breath.

According to the original novel, silk prices in deep winter would rise more than fivefold. That meant her 50,000-tael investment could turn into 250,000 taels.

Hoarding now would guarantee profit later.

Besides, silk was only used by the wealthy.

Making money off the rich didn’t trouble her conscience in the slightest.

“Moyu,” Li Zhiyue said, pushing out her jewelry box. “Take this to the pawnshop. Pawn everything.”

Moyu was shocked.

These ornaments were the ones her mistress had saved since childhood — essentially her future dowry. Why pawn them?

Her mistress didn’t seem to be short on money.

“We’ll buy new ones later,” Li Zhiyue smiled. “Just go.”

Moyu understood and nodded. “Yes, miss. I’ll handle it.”

Li Zhiyue propped her chin in thought.

Those gold and silver trinkets might bring in five to six thousand taels — maybe four thousand after the pawnshop’s markup.

With future profits, that could become 20,000 taels.

Where else could she get more money?

She was still pondering when Biyu, the theater’s accountant, burst in.

“Young Lady, something terrible has happened!”

Li Zhiyue came back to herself. “What’s wrong at the theater?”

“It’s Xiao Ling’er! She’s been taken!” Biyu was gasping. “After the first show ended, a young lord in a private booth requested tea with her. She couldn’t refuse and went in. But he just took her away — left a hundred taels behind, claiming it was her ‘redemption’ fee!”

Xiao Ling’er was the star of the Lingfeng Troupe, known for her enchanting voice and as the female lead in all the scripts Li Zhiyue had written.

With Xiao Ling’er gone, the theater couldn’t continue.

Her voice turned icy. “Who dares abduct someone from the Xiangyang Marquis’s residence in broad daylight?”

Biyu trembled. “It—it was the heir of the Duke of Yi’s household!”

The Duke of Yi!

Not only a duke, but also the current Minister of Personnel — a noble and a powerful official.

Even the royal family treated him with respect.

To someone like him, a title without real power like the Xiangyang Marquis meant nothing.

No wonder he dared act so boldly.

But how unfortunate for him—

Li Zhiyue smiled coldly. “Prepare the carriage. I’m going to the Duke of Yi’s residence!”