Chapter 4: Two Hundred Thousand Taels Delivered Monthly
Suppressing her surging emotions, she waved Manyue away, needing a moment of quiet.
The account books showed that her shops weren’t making much money. Only one gemstone shop was profitable, and that was likely because it bore the imperial plaque of “Royal First Rank”—probably relying on the goodwill of noblewomen from aristocratic families for sales.
But considering how even the maidservant of the Marchioness dared to reply so dismissively to the invitation for flower viewing, it was only a matter of time before the shop started losing money.
A few estates… were indeed profitable, but… when she looked at the expenditures of the Princess Manor, her head began to buzz.
The total number of people in her manor, from top to bottom, was over four thousand!
Was this the imperial palace or what?
Soon, Gan Qiongying remembered… in the storyline, the Princess Manor was indeed a palace—a detached palace.
Her Princess Manor had been converted from a summer retreat, a testament to how deeply she had been favored by the late Emperor Huicheng.
Looking further at the monthly stipend she was supposed to receive from the court, along with the income from her fief, Gan Qiongying realized her entire Princess Manor was operating at a deficit.
Of course, these were just the numbers on paper. She discovered she was also colluding with officials, which meant the under-the-table payments she received were likely several times more than this. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to sustain such extravagance.
How ridiculous! The account books detailing her, a princess, colluding with officials and accepting bribes were just sitting out in the open… Was the Emperor keeping her alive for the New Year festivities?
Or was her weight still not enough for the executioner’s blade?
Forget it, she wouldn’t dwell on that for now. Besides, the bribe money wasn’t enough and wouldn’t be recorded until the end of the year.
Looking at the bigger picture, the situation was simple: the scale was too grand, and the pomp couldn’t easily be scaled back. She was already a notorious laughingstock. With a detached palace serving as her Princess Manor, cutting expenses now would only invite more ridicule.
And this was it? This?!
With all this, she still wanted to build a temple and seduce a young monk?!
For Gan Qiongying, the impending massive deficit was even more terrifying than the executioner’s blade hanging over her head, uncertain when it might fall.
Having endured all kinds of hardships in life since childhood, Gan Qiongying had a lifelong, incurable PTSD: poverty!
Death was terrifying, but having died once, Gan Qiongying had come to a profound realization: compared to poverty, death was nothing.
If death was just the pain of closing and opening one’s eyes, then poverty was like being slowly cut with a blunt knife—a lingering, torturous demise!
Tears of a pauper.
Poverty!
Poverty!
Damn it, she had transmigrated into a princess! Why was she still so poor?!
Gan Qiongying really wanted to flip the table. She was done being a princess!
Slamming the account book shut, she sent a stack of papers beside her flying.
With quick reflexes, Gan Qiongying caught them. Looking closely, she saw they were banknotes—brand new, all in denominations of one hundred taels, a thick stack!
She suddenly remembered why she had started looking at the accounts in the first place.
Manyue had said the Consort delivered silver to her every month.
Manyue had said the silver the Consort brought these past two months could accomplish many things.
Gan Qiongying immediately called Manyue back in, took a sip of water to steady her breathing, and asked with feigned nonchalance, “How much silver does the Consort deliver each month?”
Manyue, though puzzled, replied respectfully, “Your Highness, the Consort delivers two hundred thousand taels each month.”
Gan Qiongying’s fingers trembled violently inside her sleeves.
She waved Manyue away and flipped through the account book again, intending to convert this amount of silver into modern currency for estimation, counting on her fingers as she calculated.
Ten fingers weren’t enough, so she picked up a brush and started writing out calculations.
One tael of silver equals…
One hundred taels of silver equals…
Two hundred thousand taels of silver equals…
She checked the numbers in her calculations one by one: ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands… thousand… ten million?
Holy shit!
Gan Qiongying trembled and counted again on her fingers, her mind whirling through a storm of thoughts.
Then she raised both hands upward, adopting a standard cultivation pose: inhale, exhale, press down.
After that, she wiped her face and transformed back into the unflappable Princess.
She tore up the paper ball on the table and threw it away.
After a long pause, she called out toward the door, “Someone!”
Manyue immediately entered. “Princess, what is it?”
Gan Qiongying knew her voice sounded panicked, but she couldn’t help it.
The vast Princess Manor, the three-digit number of male consorts, her dignity, her extravagant life with dozens of dishes per meal—all of it was sustained by the silver her merchant Consort sent her every month.
Two hundred thousand taels a month, converted to her previous world’s currency, basically meant her Consort gave her tens of millions every month for her to squander freely.
She picked up a teacup, steadying her trembling fingers, and said to Manyue, “The Consort hasn’t gone far, right? Send someone to bring him back to me!”
“Summon the Imperial Physician,” Gan Qiongying said, her voice shaking. “Order someone to fetch the Chief Imperial Physician personally!”
A man who gave her tens of millions every month, didn’t demand intimacy, and whose merchant guild spanned the entire country—what kind of “lowly merchant” was he?
He was her lifeline, her honey, her dear husband, her God of Wealth!
Gan Qiongying had originally planned to find a way to annul the marriage with her Consort. She didn’t have much empathy for strange men, especially since she herself was now surrounded on all sides, like a clay idol crossing a river—barely able to save herself.
Besides, as the saying goes, a marriage without love is destined to be scattered sand. She couldn’t possibly handle the male lead’s brother.
Moreover, as a modern person, she couldn’t stomach this arranged marriage. Once the plot changed later, they could go their separate ways.
But… two hundred thousand taels a month.
Gan Qiongying suddenly realized she probably understood what love at first sight meant.
Recalling her Consort’s pale face in the grand hall earlier, his uniquely hunched figure, his ash-gray yet distinguished demeanor, and his distinctive limping gait—it was all so damn charming.
Just thinking about it made her heart race and her face flush.
Manyue thought the Princess was angry again. Hearing such an order, she was deeply shaken. Had the Princess finally lost her patience and decided to kill the Consort, tearing all pretense with the Emperor?
Manyue fell to her knees with a thud, risking her life to advise, “Princess, that man doesn’t have much time left. I’ve already sent word to all the physicians in the city—they won’t cure his injuries. Even if you’re angry, please endure it a little longer. After all, it was the Emperor who arranged this marriage. That man cannot die in the Princess Manor!”
Manyue kowtowed repeatedly, saying, “Even if you’re furious about the marriage the Emperor arranged, if that man truly dies in the Princess Manor, even if the Emperor doesn’t investigate, his merchant guild spans the entire Nánzhào. Once they seize upon the Princess’s mistreatment and harm of that man, it will surely stir up public outrage.”
“At that point, no matter what, the Emperor will not let the Princess off.”
“Moreover, the Chief Imperial Physician is advanced in years. Even if he is a master of medicine, he cannot overcome dim-sightedness with age. If he fails to save the Consort’s life in time… I beg the Princess to reconsider!”
After speaking, Manyue prostrated herself on the ground, not daring to rise.
She knew how much her mistress detested this marriage, and that since the wedding, she had indulged in dissipation. Yet in the dead of night, she would also weep in depression.
Someone so noble and precious, so proud and unrestrained—who even had her own beloved sweetheart—was forcibly separated and bestowed in marriage to a mere merchant. How could she possibly accept it?
Manyue awaited Gan Qiongying’s thunderous wrath.
But Gan Qiongying blinked several times. As Manyue spoke these heartfelt words, she became even more certain that her maidservants were truly loyal to her.
She also realized that her actions had caused misunderstanding.
They must have thought she wanted to kill the Consort.
Gan Qiongying suddenly realized she had been too excited, momentarily losing control and breaking character. Fortunately, her maidservants were adept at interpreting her intentions.
In the storyline, she utterly despised the Consort—how could she suddenly show kindness by seeking treatment for him?
What should she do?
She had to find a reasonable excuse.
Otherwise, her sudden decision to bring back the Consort and arrange for his treatment would surely arouse everyone’s suspicions.
Gan Qiongying looked at the kneeling Manyue and the trembling forms of her other personal maidservants, breaking out in a cold sweat down her entire back.
Setting down her teacup, she withdrew her hands into her wide sleeves, stood up, and circled halfway around Manyue, her mind racing for a solution.
This solution had to be reasonable, had to convince everyone…
Manyue trembled with fear under her gaze.
Gan Qiongying swiftly connected and analyzed everything she had learned since transmigrating a month ago, analyzing her own character—that is, Princess Duanrong in the storyline.
Under what circumstances would she change her attitude toward the Consort, whom she viewed as an insult?
Loving money wouldn’t work—that was her, Gan Qiongying, who shared the same name as the original owner of this world, not the noble and precious Princess Duanrong raised in luxury.
Then… she had it!