I'm Already the Richest Man, Why Did My System Just Arrive?

Chapter 14: Chapter 9: A Visit from the Aggrieved Party

This wasn’t some simple story of Zheng Xiu losing his mind, descending into depravity to steal another man’s wife.

The story behind this ”grudge of a stolen wife” actually begins several years ago.

This happened about five years ago, during the twelfth month of the twenty-seventh year of the Zun’an reign.

The backdrop for all this was that the old Emperor was making a great push for prosperity, vigorously developing the economy.

Zheng Xiu seized the opportunity, riding the wave of favorable policies to expand his business.

This only served to pile more riches upon the already wealthy Zheng Family—a true case of ”misfortune after misfortune,” you could say.

That was also the year Heaven on Earth celebrated its second anniversary.

As for Shi Wentong, he had a wife and two concubines but, as fate would have it, no heir.

Having just been promoted to the rank of Physician, he hoped to leverage one joyous occasion to create another, aiming for a double dose of good fortune.

However, a rumor began to circulate that a famous physician had once diagnosed Shi Wentong with a *yang* deficiency and weak essence. The doctor had supposedly said it would be harder than climbing to heaven for him to produce an heir... unless he were to ”borrow a seed.”

When this rumor reached Zheng Xiu, who was having tea with a few friends in a private room, he laughed so hard he spat his tea all over the table.

Shi Wentong was already sixty years old five years ago. ’Anyone could see his *yang* was deficient and his essence was weak. You didn’t need a master physician to diagnose that.’

But alas, Shi Wentong was old in body but not in spirit. Refusing to give up or accept his fate, he decided he would take a third concubine.

He set his sights on Jing Xuemei, the daughter of the Jing Clan, who belonged to a fairly influential merchant family in the Imperial City.

Shi Wentong sent a matchmaker to persuade Jing Xuemei’s father. Dazzled by the numerous benefits, the man gritted his teeth and agreed to the propitious match that had landed in his lap.

Back then, marrying into an officials’ family was the kind of dream many a Merchant would wake up from with a smile. If the connection could secure a hereditary title, it would ensure the Jing Clan’s descendants could live without a care for generations.

Normally, such a done deal wouldn’t be unusual in the circles of the Imperial City, and it shouldn’t have concerned a young, successful merchant like Zheng Xiu.

But then, on a night of feathery snowfall, Jing Xuemei appeared, curled up before the entrance to Heaven on Earth. Dressed in a thin, snow-white gown, she looked just like a homeless stray.

”Excuse me, but does Master Zheng deal in the business of women?”

She asked.

Jing Xuemei had been waiting here all this time for Boss Zheng to appear.

When Zheng Xiu first laid eyes on Jing Xuemei, he thought to himself, ’Her name really does suit her.’ Her features were as stark and beautiful as a plum blossom in the snow, beautiful but unapproachable. Her figure, however, was full and lush in all the right places. In a matchmaker’s eyes, she was clearly prime child-bearing stock. ’No wonder Shi Wentong, driven mad by his desire for a child, wants her as his concubine.’

Zheng Xiu said, ”Oh? And what business would that be?”

Jing Xuemei replied, ”Selling myself.”

Zheng Xiu narrowed his eyes. ”You?”

Jing Xuemei nodded. ”I’ll sell my skills, not my body.”

Zheng Xiu was well-informed and knew about her engagement to Shi Wentong. ’This is a hot potato,’ he thought. But Boss Zheng feigned ignorance, adopting the serious air of a businessman. ”Selling your skills, not your body, you say? What skills do you possess?”

Jing Xuemei said, ”Playing the flute.”

The great ”Good man Zheng” paused, momentarily debating whether he should ask *what kind* of flute she meant.

Seeing the look on his face, Jing Xuemei thought he was skeptical. She decisively took out her wooden flute, ready to play.

”No need.” Zheng Xiu looked back, exchanged a glance with Second Lady, then nodded. ”We’ll sign her.”

”Master Zheng, I have a presumptuous request.”

”And if I said I didn’t want to hear it, would that stop you?”

”...Could you write the price on the indenture contract as one million taels?”

”Are you sure? At one million, you’ll likely never leave Heaven on Earth in this lifetime. Not unless I die first.”

Jing Xuemei knelt before Zheng Xiu in the snow and kowtowed forcefully. ”I beg you, Master Zheng, please grant my request!” she pleaded, her forehead hitting the ground.

Zheng Xiu had never heard a request like it—someone actively asking to set their own buyout price impossibly high. But after a moment’s thought, he understood her reasoning. With a sigh, he agreed, chalking it up as his good deed for the day.

The aftermath was simple. When Shi Wentong heard the news, he brought his men to investigate. The sight of ”one million” on the indenture contract made his face turn pale. He stood before Heaven on Earth, clutching his chest and gasping for air for a long while before finally storming off in a fury.

Based on his official salary, bonuses, and grain stipends, his monthly income was barely over eight hundred taels. He didn’t have a million taels, and even if he did, he wouldn’t dare reveal such wealth.

Five years later, Jing Xuemei now went by the stage name ”Bobo.”

...

After a day and a night of hardship, Zheng Xiu walked out of the dungeon. The last, sharp rays of the setting sun made him instinctively raise a hand to shield his eyes.

In the distance, a dozen elite soldiers stood in a circle. Inside, Shi Wentong was seated at a banquet table, waiting.

Shi Wentong, who was approaching seventy, sat at the head of the table dressed in a magnificent, fur-collared jacket. When he saw Zheng Xiu approaching from afar—not in prison clothes and even freed from his shackles—he was visibly startled, but he quickly plastered on a smile.

Zheng Xiu strode forward, a broad smile on his face. He clasped his hands, feigning a respectful bow. ”Lord Shit, long time no see! You’re looking as fine as ever!”

Shi Wentong maintained a veneer of official dignity, but his smile seemed affable. He finally rose to greet his guest, reaching out as if to help him up. ”My dear Younger Brother Zheng, there’s no need for such formalities. I thought you’d be downcast after your recent troubles, but to my surprise, you have the bearing and look of a Fierce Tiger returning to the mountains. My, your presence is even more striking than before!”

Shi Wentong reached out, but he didn’t quite make contact. In fact, before his hand could even touch Boss Zheng, Boss Zheng had already straightened up. ”Not at all, not at all! You’re the one who’s truly impressive, Lord Shit. Just look at you! You’re glowing, as if you’ve reversed your age, and your skin is so tender! If I’m not mistaken, I’ll be attending a feast to celebrate the birth of your new child in just a few months!”

”Hahaha, I’ll take that as a blessing then, Younger Brother Zheng! But I’m afraid... you may not have the chance to attend that feast.”

Zheng Xiu replied, ”What a shame.”

Shi Wentong gestured for Zheng Xiu to sit down, his smile never wavering, though the corner of his eye twitched uncontrollably. With a flick of his long sleeves, Zheng Xiu sat down with pleasure.

Scarface Liu had escorted Zheng Xiu this far, but he certainly wasn’t going to stick around. He knew his place: hear what you’re supposed to, and be deaf to what you’re not.

Just then, he remembered the wine Zheng Xiu had prepared earlier and was about to ask if Boss Zheng wanted it served. But Zheng Xiu’s voice suddenly rose. ”Sixth Brother, Lord Shit doesn’t care for wine, so there’s no need to bring those two jugs over. Besides,” he said, turning back to Shi Wentong with a grin.

”Lord Shit may be strong and healthy, with the constitution of a much younger man, but he is getting on in years. If he were to accidentally drink that potent liquor and something... happened... wouldn’t that make me a sinner? Can’t have that, can’t have that at all!”

”COUGH, COUGH, COUGH, COUGH—” Shi Wentong erupted in a violent coughing fit.

’This is about more than just a stolen wife,’ Scarface Liu realized, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He hastily backed away.

Zheng Xiu ignored him. The food on the table wasn’t elaborately prepared, clearly just a token spread, but with chicken, duck, fish, and meat, it was still a feast. Zheng Xiu was hungry anyway. He picked up his chopsticks and dug in, eating with audible relish. SLURP, CHOMP.

Shi Wentong took a sip of water to compose himself. He watched Zheng Xiu, the Richest Person in the Imperial City, shamelessly enjoying a free meal. He’d expected Zheng Xiu to be too proud to eat such common fare, but now he felt like he’d thrown a punch into a ball of Cotton—all his effort was completely absorbed, leaving him frustrated.

Huffing and glaring as he watched Boss Zheng devour half a roasted chicken, Shi Wentong finally squeezed out a smile. ”You truly are worry-free, Younger Brother Zheng. Aren’t you afraid this food might be poisoned?”

With his mouth full, Zheng Xiu mumbled, ”With so many people watching... me, dining with Lord Shit under the moon... if I were to suddenly bite my tongue and drop dead, you’d be in a heap of trouble. It wouldn’t be easy to silence all these witnesses, would it? Besides, a man as magnanimous as Lord Shit wouldn’t hold a grudge over some trivial little thing from back then, would he?”

Zheng Xiu’s every other word was a jab about the ”stolen wife” incident. Shi Wentong’s face grew paler, his composure finally starting to crack.

”Besides,” Zheng Xiu added, twisting the knife, ”even if you had married her five years ago, you know as well as I do, Lord Shit, that a child still might not have been conceived. So naturally, you have no reason to hold a grudge.”

That was the last straw. Shi Wentong slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet. ”Enough!” he roared.

Zheng Xiu, who had just finished his meal, elegantly produced a clean silk handkerchief from his robes and dabbed his lips.

”Yes,” he said. ”I’ve had enough to eat.”

”A tall tree catches the wind, Younger Brother Zheng! Don’t you understand that when a tree falls, everyone joins in to push it over?”

Zheng Xiu chuckled. ”Don’t be ridiculous, Lord Shit. This old tree of the Zheng Family is still standing tall and strong.”

”Hah...” Shi Wentong lowered his voice into a sneer. ”Do you really think your backer can still protect you?”

Zheng Xiu retorted coolly, ”Even if the tree falls, the roots remain. And when the spring wind blows, they’ll sprout anew.”

”Hahaha, but the real danger is that the roots of your Zheng Family will be torn out completely!”

”Do you have any idea what the Zheng Family name is worth?” Zheng Xiu pointed at him, his expression one of annoyance. Before the astonished Shi Wentong could react, Zheng Xiu turned to walk away. ”As for why you came to dine with me today... I suspect that even you, Lord Shi, are still completely in the dark about it.”

”Even if the sky itself were to fall, the Zheng Family name is strong enough to weather the storm.”

”I expected your patron to come and try to win me over himself. Your presence here implies that I am not to be won over, but merely warned. Warned to behave myself, to stop being clever, and to not court my own destruction.”

”But you see, Lord Shit, I wasn’t afraid before. What makes you think I’m afraid now?”

Zheng Xiu muttered something that only he could understand. Then, with a beaming smile, he clasped his hands in a final gesture of farewell to Shi Wentong. ”My thanks for the banquet, Lord Shit. If I should happen to be unjustly killed in this prison, I hope you will be able to set aside our past disagreements and visit my grave.”

”I wish you good health and a long life, Lord Shi. Just try not to die before I do.”