MLMD -Chapter 313 Reaching an Agreement

Anyone who’s done business understands a simple principle: no matter how high the other party starts their demands, you need to have a bottom line in your heart. The final price or terms must never cross that line. By all rights, Yue Yang shouldn’t have had any emotional reaction—but when Duke Wei made his demands, even Yue Yang, who thought he was prepared for a lion’s-mouth negotiation, found it unbearable. This wasn’t negotiation anymore; it was mockery.

Damn it! I delivered the goods, yet in the end, I can’t even decide how much I’ll get paid, when I’ll get it, or how much I can charge. Are you seriously calling this a negotiation?

Yue Yang’s face darkened instantly. As for Duke Wei, though usually composed and cunning, even he couldn’t help but change his expression at Yue Yang’s words. After all, Duke Wei’s family had been rooted in Jinling for over two centuries, this land was built by his ancestors alongside the founding emperor. Even the current emperor treated them with special courtesy. And now, a young man who had only been a marquis for a few months dared to question his self-importance—this was a blatant slap in the face.

Before Duke Wei could respond, Xu Wenjue, whose hand was still bandaged, bristled at Yue Yang’s audacity toward his father. He stepped forward, pointing at Yue Yang with his right hand and shouted, “Boy, my father letting me apologize to you was giving you face! Try getting arrogant again and see if I won’t make sure you don’t leave Jinling alive!”

Yue Yang gave him a sidelong glance and ignored the fool, turning instead to speak seriously to Duke Wei: “Duke Wei, I do respect Old Duke Xu, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate things without limit. I hope you restrain your precious son—otherwise, I can’t guarantee his other hand will remain intact.”

To threaten someone’s child in front of the father—this was too much. Duke Wei’s smile vanished, replaced by cold anger. He said sharply, “Marquis Yue, I consider myself beyond reproach, yet it seems you have no intention of giving me any respect, huh?”

“Ha ha ha…” Yue Yang laughed out loud. Now he finally understood the true faces of these so-called established nobles. Though Duke Wei seemed polite and measured compared to his son, in reality, he saw the new marquis as nothing but a nouveau riche—someone to crush at will in Jinling. Promises of fifty percent profit shares that may never materialize were, in Duke Wei’s eyes, generous acts deserving gratitude. This was the true nature of the old aristocracy.

Staring at Duke Wei’s sullen face, Yue Yang spoke deliberately, word by word:

“Duke Wei, I don’t know who gave you your face, but my own reputation was earned on the battlefield, one cut, one strike at a time. If anyone thinks they can flaunt ancestral prestige in front of me, they are gravely mistaken. You might think Yue Yang needs your support to do business in Jinling—but remember, I have both goods and guns. If someone assumes being a local big shot allows them to make me uncomfortable, don’t blame me if I make their life miserable for the rest of it.”

His words hit like iron, carrying the lethal decisiveness honed from life-and-death battles on the frontlines. Both Duke Wei and Xu Wenjue immediately understood that this new marquis was not joking.

For countless years, no one had dared speak so boldly to Duke Wei, a hereditary duke with endless honors in Jinling. As a lifetime commander with thousands of troops, he had always been proud—but today, his pride was shattered by a new noble who clearly stated: if you play rough with me, I’ll play rougher, and I have tens of thousands of elite soldiers at my disposal.

Suppressing his trembling hand and taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Duke Wei finally asked in a deep voice: “Marquis Yue, are you threatening me?”

“You may interpret it that way,” Yue Yang replied, tapping his finger lightly on the table. “Although I’m just a scholar from the countryside, I live by one principle: one honors me an inch, I honor them a foot. Yet I see no respect from you, Duke. You ignored me for days—minor matters I could endure, but some things cannot be taken too far. Do you think because I came to Jinling, I must roll over like a dragon or crouch like a tiger, picking up whatever scraps your Xu family throws at me, grateful for it? Is that what you believe?”

Though Yue Yang spoke calmly, Duke Wei and his son were ashen. These were words that struck at the heart, but they could not refute them; Yue Yang was simply stating the truth. The difference was that the father preferred a swift, decisive solution, while the son preferred subtle maneuvers to reap benefits—but both were being exposed publicly, a bitter taste for both.

“I, Marquis Yue Yang, also have dignity. How can I tolerate being toyed with in your hands? I came all the way to Jinling to deliver cannons, and this is how you treat me: first, your son threatens me; then, you demonstrate force. Is this how you treat guests you invite?”

Duke Wei’s face shifted between red and blue. Emotionally, he wanted to call in his guards and seize this brazen man—but rationally, he could not. Yue Yang was also a Ming noble, a freshly minted marquis. Any misstep would provoke censors and enemies in Jinling to swarm him with impeachment papers, and Yue Yang’s tens of thousands of troops were a threat he could not risk.

In a matter of heartbeats, Duke Wei made a decision. His face shifted rapidly, then he laughed heartily: “Marquis Yue, you jest. I was merely testing your reaction. How could the Duke Wei household of over 200 years in Jinling act unjustly? Let us speak plainly: what do you propose?”

Yue Yang remained calm: “My plan is simple. If your household wishes to partake, fine—but the method must change. I will deliver the goods directly to Jinling. Your household manages the store and sales. I will place an assistant manager in each store to supervise daily sales, with monthly accounts settled.”

Xu Wenjue interjected: “How much will Duke Wei’s household take?”

“Thirty percent,” Yue Yang said, holding up three fingers. “And the Duke Wei household must ensure no outside interference.”

“That’s too little!” Duke Wei said immediately. “We handle store setup, local relations, yet only get thirty percent? Impossible!”

“Forty percent,” Yue Yang raised one more finger. “This is the final bottom line. If you refuse, I will find another partner.”

“Agreed!” Duke Wei nodded immediately. Even Xu Wenjue and Chen Dazhi were surprised by the swift agreement.

After the negotiation, Yue Yang and Duke Wei exchanged glances and laughed, as if the tense confrontation had been nothing but a playful skirmish.

Fifteen minutes later, the Duke Wei father and son departed. Yue Yang accompanied them to the gate, only turning back once their figures disappeared from view.

Chen Dazhi, still uneasy, muttered: “Marquis, Duke Wei imposed such harsh conditions. How could he not fear that we would walk away?”

Yue Yang stopped, looking at Chen Dazhi with seriousness: “He imposed harsh terms because he didn’t expect such a strong pushback. Once we showed we could walk away, he immediately backed down. Those forty percent benefits were practically free money—he only facilitated a few store arrangements. There’s no reason not to agree. Remember, Dazhi, no one has ever hated silver. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Chen Dazhi nodded vigorously, still somewhat puzzled.

Yue Yang chuckled and shook his head. “Forget it, I can’t explain it to you.”

As he was about to enter his room, he checked his watch—late afternoon. Bored, he said, “Dazhi, let’s take a walk along the Qinhuai River.”

“Marquis, shall we visit Lady Xiangjun?” Chen Dazhi asked.

Yue Yang shook his head. “Not today. Let’s just stroll along the river.”

An hour later, Yue Yang, Chen Dazhi, and a few guards arrived at the Qinhuai River. Night was falling. Lanterns lit both banks, people wandered about, and painted riverboats floated by, music drifting over the water, intoxicating passersby.

“Marquis, we really aren’t going to Qinghefang?” Chen Dazhi asked.

“No,” Yue Yang said, glancing at the soldier captain beside him—this fool had just visited Lady Li Xiangjun’s boat that morning, and now looked ready to go again. Yue Yang found it annoying; this man fancied himself a gentleman despite frequenting brothels—an almost impossible act.

They boarded a black-canopied boat and drifted along the river. The oarsman, an elderly man with gray hair, was robust and talkative. Yue Yang engaged him in conversation.

“Sir, how old are you?”

The old man hesitated, modestly replying: “I’m fifty-three, sir. Not very old.”

“You’ve lived here long, I assume?” Yue Yang inquired.

“Indeed! I’ve worked on the Qinhuai since childhood, alongside my father. I know much of what happens here.”

“Oh, tell me, who are the most famous courtesans here?” Yue Yang asked eagerly.

The old man stroked his beard: “Many, but the most notable are Miss Li Xiangjun of Qinghefang, Miss Dong Xiaowan of Meixiang Lou, Miss Li Shiniang of Honglian Lou, and newcomers like Liu Rushi, Gu Hengbo, Bian Yujing, and Zheng Tuoniang. These are the most renowned tonight on the Qinhuai.”

Yue Yang’s heart stirred at the names of these historical beauties, whom he had only read about.

As he marveled, a nearby boat drifted past, and Yue Yang caught a fleeting, ethereal figure. His heart raced. Pointing at the boat, he asked the old man, “Do you know who owns that boat?”

The old man glanced at the lantern and smiled: “That’s Cui Weifang, belonging to a girl named Wang Yue. She debuted late last year, but business has been poor.”

“Why?” Yue Yang asked, curious.

The old man replied bluntly: “Her looks are good, her poetry and music passable—but her figure… is unconventional, so clients don’t favor her.”

“Unconventional?” Yue Yang froze.

“Yes, she’s tall, with some features that are striking. Not typical for local tastes.”

Yue Yang’s eyes widened. A tall, shapely figure? Perfectly suited to his tastes.

“Quick—turn the boat! Chase her immediately!” the man beside him, unable to conceal his excitement, shouted to the captain.