The Tofu Queen: A Modern Woman's Ancient Kingdom Journey

"She..." Li Qingruo widened her eyes, staring at Murong Feixue in silence for a long time before murmuring, "But Father said she's doing business with the young master of the Jin family. He told me not to provoke her anymore. Feixue, I think you shouldn't harbor such dislike for her—it won't do you any good."

Even now, Li Qingruo could vividly recall her father's expression, a mix of apprehension and envy, as he spoke. The Jin family's name carried weight, and though Li Qingruo was sheltered from the family business, she'd still heard stories. Especially about the young master of the Jin family—his eccentricities and unparalleled talent for making money were renowned.

"But can you really let this go, Qingruo?" Murong Feixue's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "That scheming woman is getting closer to the marquis. You know Marquis Qin is capable and ambitious. Maybe he's just momentarily dazzled by her facade, feeling like there's no one else around who understands him. Are you truly okay with missing your chance?"

Her words were laced with subtle manipulation, her face a picture of earnestness. Yet beneath her facade, Murong Feixue sneered inwardly. True, Qin Ziqin was extraordinarily handsome; even she had blushed when meeting him. But in her heart, she saw him as nothing more than a fallen noble, an empty vessel unworthy of her own schemes.

Her true motive in pushing Li Qingruo toward Qin Ziqin was to eliminate a rival. Fewer competitors meant more young noblemen left for her to secure a better match.

"...Then, what should I do?" Li Qingruo hesitated before voicing the question again. A strange unease tugged at her, but she couldn't resist asking. Somehow, she was drawn to hearing Murong Feixue's ideas.

"Business thrives on trust, and reputation is everything for an unmarried woman. She holds both right now. If we can expose her true nature, she'll lose both her integrity and her standing. At that point, she won't need any further persuasion to leave." A sly smile curled at the corner of Murong Feixue's lips.

Walking through the bustling market, Jiang Huaiyu remained oblivious to the brewing schemes against her. She had no idea someone was holding a grudge, much less that the reasons for their hatred were so absurd.

"Let's make a few more flavors of mooncakes this time. Savory ones might work too, though I'm not sure if people will like them." Jiang Huaiyu chatted casually with Xiaocao, who trailed behind her carrying a meal for Qi Jue.

If Jiang Huaiyu's original goal had been to live a quiet, stable life without seeking wealth or glory, recent events had changed her perspective. The petty schemes aimed at her had not only amused her but also awakened a sense of vigilance and ambition.

You can't stop thieves forever, but neither can you spend your days guarding against them. These nuisances lurking in the shadows had inadvertently sparked Jiang Huaiyu's determination. If she had to play the game, she decided she might as well leave her mark.

"But there are already so many shops selling pastries, Madam. Are we really going to compete with them?" Xiaocao asked, her confusion written plainly across her face.

"Of course. If I just stay at home and enjoy my life, pretending everything's fine, people will still try to bully me," Jiang Huaiyu said, a sharp glint in her eye and a confident smile on her lips.

Xiaocao looked surprised. "But I think Madam is so capable—how could anyone bully you?"

Jiang Huaiyu chuckled softly. "Let me put it this way: If I make mooncakes that are delicious and unique, only available during the Mid-Autumn Festival, wouldn't you be excited to have such special treats on that night?"

Her tone was patient, her words clear. Perhaps it was because she felt a soft spot for Xiaocao—this brave, hardworking girl who had faced life's challenges without bitterness or complaint.

"If that's the case, I'd definitely be excited," Xiaocao admitted, nodding thoughtfully.

"Exactly. Or I could sell other things with incentives, like giving a discount for purchases over fifty wen or offering a lottery for those spending a tael. Imagine winning a horse carriage made by Banmen or even a small house!" Jiang Huaiyu's voice was animated as she explained her ideas.

Xiaocao's eyes widened in awe, as if seeing Jiang Huaiyu for the first time. "But Madam, wouldn't we lose money that way?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Jiang Huaiyu smiled, ruffling Xiaocao's hair.

The general store wasn't yet established enough to support such ambitious promotions, but Jiang Huaiyu couldn't help dreaming of the possibilities. She sighed lightly, her thoughts already wandering to what small trinkets she could buy for her son, when a shadow fell across her path.

Looking up, she nearly bumped into someone. And to her dismay, it was none other than He Congjun again.

Although she owed him a debt of gratitude, Jiang Huaiyu struggled to keep her expression neutral. With a touch of exasperation, she said, "What a coincidence, Young Master He. We meet again. I almost ran into you—again."

"It's not a coincidence. I came to ask you something," He Congjun replied, shaking his head. His sharp eyes fixed on her, their intensity making it clear he was here with purpose.

"Ask me something?" Jiang Huaiyu hesitated. She'd been hoping to avoid any further entanglement with him, but his serious demeanor left her little choice. Pressing her lips together, she nodded slightly.

The meeting took place in Jiang Huaiyu's home this time.

Night had already fallen, and Jiang Huaiyu was eager to return to her son, Tangbao, who required her presence at least once a day during meals. Without her there, he would sit in stubborn silence, tears welling up in his eyes—not crying or throwing a tantrum, but steadfastly refusing to eat.

"Master He, please, go ahead and ask what's on your mind," Jiang Huaiyu said, her tone calm and measured.

He Congjun sat upright, his posture exuding a soldier's discipline. Even in plain clothes, he seemed as though he were clad in armor.

Jiang Huaiyu quickly dismissed the thought, focusing instead on his sharp expression and the clear intensity in his gaze.

After a moment of silence, He Congjun finally spoke. "You've partnered with Jin Chong in business?"

It wasn't unheard of for people to go into business together, but Jiang Huaiyu's arrangement was rare: one party providing the recipe while the other supplied the capital and labor, with profits divided afterward.

"Yes," Jiang Huaiyu replied evenly. "Why?"

She wasn't surprised he knew about it. The real question was what he intended to do with the information.

"He's shifted his focus away from the Yun Empire," He Congjun said, his tone deep. "Instead, he's selling to the surrounding barbarian territories. Are you aware of this?"

"Master He…" Jiang Huaiyu leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. "What identity are you speaking from?"

It wasn't shocking that he knew such details—Jin Chong wouldn't risk this without proper preparation. But why was He Congjun asking her about it? That was the real puzzle.

"The identity doesn't matter," He Congjun replied, his voice steady. "What matters is: Aren't you concerned that he might be aiding the enemy?"

The Yun Empire, once the center of power and prosperity, had become a tempting target surrounded by predatory neighbors. Although the barbarians maintained a facade of peace, He Congjun knew firsthand the constant threat of raids and skirmishes at the borders.

"I don't know how spices and sauces could possibly aid an enemy," Jiang Huaiyu said with a shrug. "Regardless of your identity, Master He, I think you're overreacting."

He Congjun raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "How so?"

He waited, exuding the calm authority of someone used to commanding attention. Jiang Huaiyu sighed inwardly, realizing she'd backed herself into a corner. Reluctantly, she began to explain.

"If someone were selling coarse salt to the barbarians, would you accuse them of aiding the enemy?" she asked. Salt, unlike fine salt, wasn't strictly regulated by the state, making it a safer example.

He Congjun remained silent, his expression thoughtful.

"Spices are just spices," Jiang Huaiyu continued. "They're a luxury, not a necessity. Just like how, once you've tasted sweet osmanthus cakes, it's hard to go back to ones made without sugar. The reason we're targeting the barbarian markets is to make them dependent on us. We want them begging the Hu merchants to deliver raw spices to our doorstep."

Her explanation was straightforward yet sharp, her tone unwavering. The plan wasn't just about making a profit; it was about leveraging the market in their favor.

He Congjun studied her carefully. Her confidence wasn't feigned; her calm logic was impossible to fake. He had initially suspected she might be putting on a front, but now he was sure—this wasn't an act.

Instead of settling his curiosity, it only deepened. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her after she fled their marriage agreement. How had she transformed into this shrewd, capable woman?

For a brief moment, He Congjun entertained an idea. If the court's current chaos didn't make such a move impossible, perhaps he could bring her back into his life—officially this time.

Dismissing the thought for now, he nodded. "It seems I was mistaken. My apologies for intruding."

He's capable of apologizing? That's surprising. Jiang Huaiyu didn't take offense but couldn't resist mentally rolling her eyes at the interrogation. Why had she felt compelled to explain herself like a guilty criminal on trial?

"One more thing," He Congjun added, his tone quieter but no less serious. "Be careful. Jin Chong isn't as fragile as he looks. He's far more dangerous than you might think."

Jiang Huaiyu raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself.

"Few merchants dare to venture into barbarian territory, let alone return unscathed. Yet Jin Chong not only organizes caravans but ensures they come back with gold, silver, and rare furs. That's not something just anyone can pull off," He Congjun said, his voice tinged with warning.

Jiang Huaiyu smirked faintly. "Good to know."

He Congjun studied her for a moment longer before finally standing. "I'll take my leave, then."

"Take care…" Jiang Huaiyu called out, resisting the urge to add and don't come back. Instead, she dutifully walked him to the door.

As she returned to the courtyard, she spotted Xu Granny standing in the corridor, looking dazed.

"Granny Xu? What's wrong?" Jiang Huaiyu asked, puzzled.

Granny Xu snapped out of her trance, her voice shaking slightly. "M-Madam! Was that… the man who just left…?"

"Yes?" Jiang Huaiyu replied, tilting her head. "That's someone who helped me once—barely even an acquaintance. Why?"

Granny Xu looked both terrified and awestruck. Lowering her voice, she whispered urgently, "Madam… that was the third prince!"

Jiang Huaiyu froze, her mind spinning. Her first instinct was to dismiss the claim, but then a memory surfaced. He Congjun… Congjun. And the emperor's surname is… He!

Her knees nearly buckled. She caught herself against a nearby pillar, her heart racing.