Chapter 293: The Art of Negotiation

The moment Xiao Liu exited, Gu Yanxi stepped in. Hua Zhi glanced up, her voice dripping with teasing amusement. “Lively day in my study, isn’t it?”

Gu Yanxi didn’t waste time with pleasantries. He marched straight to her, his gaze unwavering. “Bitter-sweet candy?”

Hua Zhi almost rolled her eyes but restrained herself. The more time she spent around him, the more she realized Gu Yanxi was like a jar brimming with jealousy—ready to overflow at the slightest provocation.

She wordlessly slid open a drawer and gestured for him to help himself. He didn’t budge. Not a flicker of movement. His deliberate stillness exuded expectation.

With an exasperated sigh, she grabbed a piece and fed it to him, indulging this overly particular man. The candy hit his palate with an initial bitterness that faded into sweetness, a balance that suited his aversion to overly sugary flavors.

“Xiao Liu…” Hua Zhi began, his voice calm but deliberate.

“I already know,” Gu Yanxi interrupted. His hand found hers, firm yet gentle, as his fingers began massaging her tired palm. “You made the right call. Princes and commoners... they’re worlds apart. Sure, they bask in wealth, but there are things they’re denied from the start.”

He let that linger, his tone cold and resolute. “Family. Friendship. Love. To them, these things are fleeting illusions. Decorations, not necessities.”

As his fingers brushed the calluses on her hand, he remembered her words—words that rang harshly true: Because sometimes, none of us can truly rely on anyone. And no one can rely on us.

Reality echoed within him. It was their shared truth.

He thought of his mother’s cruel fate, her life stolen in tragedy, leaving him drowning in despair. His father, unburdened, lived as though nothing had shattered their lives.

And when the Hua family fell?

They were abandoned. By everyone.

In the end, Ah Zhi had borne it all. She had faced the wreckage alone.

Who else could she lean on?

The answer was painfully clear: no one.

Not even the people closest to her.

Not even him.

It wasn’t mistrust; it was simply how the world worked. Even with a prince who loved her deeply by her side, she never saw him as a crutch. To her, he was merely a piece in the grander game she played.

“I’ve assigned two people to watch over them,” Gu Yanxi said suddenly, his tone firm. “You don’t need to worry about their safety.”

Hua Zhi arched a brow, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “You didn’t have to tell me. I was planning to borrow someone from you anyway.” Her words carried an edge, a sharpness that spoke to her unflinching confidence.

Without missing a beat, Gu Yanxi’s hand moved to her cheek, his touch deliberate yet soft. He pulled her to her feet, his gaze commanding. “Enough of this. Let’s eat.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. The world outside could wait—right now, it was just the two of them, locked in a fragile but undeniable understanding.

*

The following day, Gu Yanxi joined Hua Zhi on a visit to another manor. This time, they ventured into the cellar, where clusters of mushrooms were flourishing in the damp, shadowy space.

The earthy scent was far from pleasant, but Gu Yanxi found the scene unexpectedly captivating. He’d heard of people using greenhouses to grow vegetables in winter, but the concept of cultivating mushrooms underground like this was entirely new to him.

Hua Zhi, ever calculating, chose not to reveal Gu Yanxi’s true identity. Tang Yong, the steward of the manor, assumed he was just a buyer in search of mushrooms.

Oblivious, Tang Yong greeted them warmly and launched into his pitch. “These here are shiitake mushrooms—fast-growing and packed with flavor. We also have a variety of others just next door. Why don’t you take a look?”

Hua Zhi barely managed to stifle her amusement, turning her head away to hide her smile. Meanwhile, Gu Yanxi shot her a knowing glance, his expression indulgent but unbothered, before stepping into the next cellar.

The layout was a maze of interconnected rooms, each one filled with thriving fungi.

As Gu Yanxi moved through the dimly lit spaces, realization struck. This wasn’t just some quaint agricultural venture—this was a goldmine. Mushrooms weren’t cheap, especially out of season.

Selling them during a time when they were rare on the market would undoubtedly drive up prices, making this business absurdly lucrative.

Hua Zhi had been right; this was a sharp, strategic operation.

Once they returned to the main hall, Hua Zhi dismissed Tang Yong, her tone casual but firm. “Shi Zai restaurant has been showcasing mushrooms in their dishes recently, and the reception has been excellent. Naturally, we can’t sell them at exorbitant prices outright, but charging a premium is certainly reasonable. So, what’s your plan for distribution?”

Gu Yanxi’s tone was cool but decisive as he replied, “The capital is overflowing with wealthy families, and the high-end restaurants are always looking for something exclusive. I intend to secure my share of this market using the Shizi's identity. When the time comes, the steward at the Shizi’s mansion will oversee the operation.”

He didn’t need to say more. The wheels were already turning, and the profit was as good as theirs.

Hua Zhi weighed the stakes carefully, her mind flipping through the potential benefits and pitfalls of involving the Hua family and the Shizi in this matter. Finally, she voiced the question that had been gnawing at her, her tone sharp and measured: “What if the emperor catches wind of this? Wouldn’t that be a problem?”

Gu Yanxi met her gaze with a calm confidence, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of his teacup. “The emperor will find out eventually if you handle your business well. That’s not something to fear—it’s inevitable. And frankly, it’s not a liability. There’s no need for secrecy,” he said pointedly. “The emperor’s health is failing; he can’t keep his hands on everything anymore. Don’t underestimate him, though. He’s probably already aware of your existence. The difference now is timing. It’s time for you to step into the light. Even if you’re a woman, as brilliant as you are, he won’t have grounds to fault you.”

Hua Zhi leaned back slightly, considering his words. Her demeanor remained calm but decisive as she replied, “You have a better understanding of this situation than I do. You decide what’s best.”

Gu Yanxi couldn’t help but admire her directness. She wasn’t the type to dance around decisions or shirk responsibility. When the moment demanded action, she acted—and she owned the consequences.

“The mushroom cultivation,” Hua Zhi began, her voice measured as she shifted the conversation, “I plan to ramp it up significantly. I want to expand the manor as much as possible. We don’t need sprawling estates. Just build efficiently—room after room, nothing extravagant. I’ve been weighing options for distribution. Ideally, local cultivation and local sales would cut costs and maintain supply freshness. But the logistics of manpower and risks involved make it tricky. An alternative would be to ship everything directly to the capital.”

Before she could finish, Gu Yanxi stepped in decisively, his tone firm. “Local cultivation and local sales are more efficient. The fewer hands in the supply chain, the better. You provide the manpower; I’ll take care of the logistics. With the Prince’s Mansion backing you, fewer people will dare to meddle.”

Hua Zhi nodded without hesitation. “Offering strategic concessions to the local elite would also smooth things over,” she added, her tone crisp.

Gu Yanxi agreed, his mind already working through the details. The plan made sense, but its simplicity on paper didn’t reflect the challenges of execution.

“Implementation won’t be easy,” Hua Zhi said, cutting to the heart of the matter. “The first hurdle is trust. We’ll need to handpick people carefully. To protect the cultivation process, at least five trustworthy individuals will have to be sent to each location. Once the critical tasks are secured, we can hire locals for the less sensitive work.”

Gu Yanxi nodded again, his expression unreadable but resolute. The path forward was clear, but it was paved with obstacles that demanded sharp minds and unwavering determination.

Both knew what was at stake—and neither intended to falter.

The Hua family had one glaring problem that could no longer be ignored: manpower.

Hua Zhi, ambitious as ever, had overreached in her rapid expansion. Her operations grew faster than the family could support, leaving them perpetually shorthanded.

The people she needed couldn’t just be anyone. Only trusted family servants who shared a deep loyalty to the Hua family could be sent out to handle critical tasks.

Newly bought servants? Useless.

Their loyalty was uncertain, and there was no guarantee they’d understand or uphold the family’s values.

As for the side branches of the family, it wasn’t clear how much more they could contribute without straining their own resources. If push came to shove, the solution might involve reassigning people from the canning workshop and replacing them with new hires. It wasn’t ideal, but compromises would have to be made.

As for seeking help from Gu Yanxi, that was out of the question. Hua Zhi’s view on love was resolute—she saw it as an equal partnership, not something that allowed her to lean on him for personal problems. This was her family’s mess to clean up, not his.

Thankfully, there was no immediate urgency. Before spreading their reach any further, the Hua family needed to solidify their foundation in the capital.

Expansion could wait.

*

After dropping off Hua Zhi, Gu Yanxi returned to the palace without wasting time. There, work awaited—a mountain of memorials that needed his attention. He went through them quickly, cherry-picking the most critical ones and bringing them to Haoxin Palace.

Inside, the emperor sat in casual attire, poring over a scroll. His hair was streaked with gray, his face weathered and sunken, resembling a fruit dried to the core. He looked every bit the part of a man carrying the weight of the empire on his shoulders. Yet, his hardened expression softened when Gu Yanxi entered.

"I’ve already told you," the emperor grumbled, though his tone held no real malice. "Handle these matters yourself. I trust you more than anyone else."

But Gu Yanxi wasn’t interested in reassurances. He ignored the emperor’s remarks entirely, diving straight into the memorials with sharp, no-nonsense efficiency. He summarized each issue in quick, precise language. "Bingzhou has gone two months without rain. The fields are cracked. A total crop failure is imminent..."

The emperor listened attentively, offering brief responses as needed. Based on those, Gu Yanxi would assign tasks to the appropriate ministers. The rhythm was familiar; they had worked like this for days, turning their collaboration into a seamless routine.

When the final memorial had been dealt with, the emperor leaned back and groaned in exasperation. "Why do you bother bringing these to me? You’re the one handling everything in the end."

"It’s not the same," Gu Yanxi replied bluntly, his tone unwavering.

The emperor couldn’t help but appreciate his steadfastness. In a world where everyone seemed to change with the wind, Gu Yanxi’s unshakable reliability was a rare comfort. It made the emperor want to protect this constant presence even more, hoping against hope that it would remain unbroken.

———TN: Ah, what's the matter, old emperor?

You’re scheming, plotting, already figuring out how to lock him down under your control. Is that it?

Let’s hear it—what’s the big move?