Chapter Sixteen: Why Am I Always the One Who Gets Hurt?

In a brief moment, a small jar of pure white fine salt appeared on the dining table, leaving everyone present utterly astonished.

“This… is this really salt?”

“My goodness, the salt from the Western Regions is actually this good?”

“Even the palace wouldn’t have salt of such quality, would they…?”

The grain merchants, well-traveled and experienced, had rooted themselves firmly in Yingtian Prefecture. Yet, the refinement of the salt before them still left them speechless.

“Grain prices went up today. I stayed at the shop all day, only hearing from the clerks that something in the market was outrageously expensive, but I didn’t ask further! Had I known it was this, I would have gone to see it myself!”

“Indeed! It’s neither bitter nor astringent, truly rare! Isn’t making money all about improving our quality of life?”

“Exactly! Such a rare item would make a great gift too…!”

Upon learning that this salt was being sold at the market today, the merchant crowd regretted their missed opportunity, slapping their thighs in frustration.

“Master Lu, do you know if those Western salt traders said whether there would still be any available tomorrow?” one grain merchant asked.

“Oh…” Lu Mancang was about to reply when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his foot, crushed under the heavy step of his father, Lu Mo, who silently signaled him not to speak with a glance.

Though puzzled by his father’s prohibition, he obediently shook his head. “I… I don’t know! They left right after selling it!”

By his estimation, coming all the way from the Western Regions, there was no way they brought only such a small amount.

The subtle exchange between father and son did not escape the shrewd merchants around the table, all quick-witted and perceptive.

How could they not notice?

One by one, they picked up their chopsticks, each harboring their own thoughts as they resumed eating.

When the meal ended, the merchants climbed onto their carriages and scattered in all directions.

No sooner had they left than Lu Mo ordered his men to collect all the fine salt, forbidding its use.

“Father, why? We bought this salt to eat, didn’t we?” Lu Mancang asked in confusion. “Why didn’t you want me to say that there might still be some for sale?”

Before he could finish, a firm slap landed on the back of his head.

“Ouch! Father, why did you hit me?”

Lu Ben glared sharply at his son, displeased by his lack of understanding. “Fine salt is scarce, and its profit far exceeds that of grain! Especially such high-quality salt—its profit is astonishing! This is a business opportunity! What if they all found out and rushed to buy it?”

“But… aren’t you friends with those merchants?”

“Smack!”

“Ouch! Father, why are you hitting me again?”

“I, Lu Ben, have been shrewd my whole life—how did I end up with such a fool for a son?”

“Ouch! Father! Please stop, Father…!”

…

The next morning, Lu Ben took all the silver coins in the household and, together with his son, waited at the market.

“Father, we only have ten thousand taels of silver. Are you really going to spend it all on salt?”

Lu Mancang rubbed the sore back of his head, still aching from yesterday’s beating, and asked.

“Of course! Bought at ten taels per jin, we can easily sell it for thirty to fifty taels later!” Lu Ben said confidently, standing on tiptoe, eyes scanning eagerly for those salt traders from the Western Regions.

Yet, there were no foreign merchants in sight—only many grain merchants from the city.

The Tong family grain shop, the Wang family, the Cao family, and others all arrived one after another.

Clearly, they had come to compete for the goods!

He regretted having leaked the information to them.

Glancing at his son, his anger grew, and he struck the back of Mancang’s head once more.

“Father…!” Lu Mancang wanted to cry but had no tears.

After all, he was a respectable young master.

Getting beaten at home was one thing; being hit in front of so many people was humiliating.

Where was his dignity?

“Hmph! It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t shown them the salt, why would they come?”

Lu Ben’s disdain for his son deepened.

Rubbing the back of his head, Lu Mancang muttered softly, “I didn’t know you had so many tricks up your sleeve!”

“Make way… make way…”

Just as everyone eagerly waited, several horse-drawn carriages slowly entered the market.

There were even more than yesterday.

The lids of the boxes were opened to reveal the gleaming white fine salt, sparkling as if brighter than the sun above.

“Hiss…”

The major merchants were truly amazed.

Such pure white salt existed in the world!

Looking back at the salt they had eaten before, it was practically feed for animals.

Disguised imperial guards stood atop the carriages, scanning the crowd below, dressed in silks and satins, completely different from the day before.

It seemed the news had spread, and nobles from all over were waiting to buy the salt.

“I want ten jin!”

“I want twenty jin!”

“Fifty jin for me…!”

Without any need for calling out, the wealthy waved their precious banknotes, shouting out their desired quantities.

They even brought jars specifically to store the salt, avoiding the hassle of bagging it up to carry home.

If accidentally broken, the loss would be significant.

In just a short while, the first carriage of fine salt sold out.

Because of the crowd, the Lu family had yet to reach the carriages.

Lu Mo was sweating with anxiety.

Suddenly, the sound of urgent hoofbeats approached.

The riders wore animal skins, just like the earlier traders.

After arriving, they whispered among themselves before the salt dealers announced loudly, “Apologies, the salt can no longer be sold at ten taels per jin. The price must now be raised to twenty taels!”

“What? Twenty taels a jin?”

“How can the price double just like that?”

“But it was ten taels just now…”

Those who hadn’t bought any immediately objected.

“There’s no choice. Reports came in that once the fine salt reached the north, it was immediately snapped up. Now it’s gone up to thirty taels a jin! If we continue selling at ten, we’ll lose money!”

The disguised foreign traders, speaking imperfect Mandarin, explained.

“The north is already going crazy?”

“Yes, everyone wants this fine salt!”

“Ah, I envy those who managed to buy it earlier. They can make a profit just by reselling now!”

“Exactly! That means we must buy it now. The price will only go higher later…!”

The nobles eagerly voiced their thoughts, their enthusiasm for buying only increasing.

“I want one hundred jin!”

“Two hundred for me!”

“Give me five hundred jin…!”

Before they could even get close to the front, the price of the fine salt had already doubled.

Lu Mo’s regret was profound.

Had he acted earlier, he could have turned a profit of ten thousand taels by now.

“Smack!”

Another slap landed on his son’s head.

“Always wasting money on drinking and gambling! Why didn’t you buy more yesterday?”

“Father…!”

Lu Mancang felt utterly helpless.

Why was he beaten for everything?