Chapter Seventy-Three: The Duke’s Son Has Been Abducted!

"What impressive authority you have, Lord Tian," Guo Yuan said coldly.

"Young Master Guo?!" The city lord's expression was uncertain, but someone at his side quickly stepped forward to explain the situation.

After a brief account, the city lord immediately understood: his clan brother had tried to profit from this guest, only to strike an immovable wall. This man had the Tian clan as his guide and was acquainted with the Guo family's young master—not someone to be trifled with. The loss was clear. He also realized that, having just recently rebelled against the main Tian family, he must not offend the Guo clan under any circumstances.

He shot his clan brother a vicious glare, hurriedly got out of his carriage, and jogged over to Guo Yuan, forcing a sycophantic smile. "Young Master Guo, it’s all a misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? It looked to me as though you were about to rob Han’s caravan," Guo Yuan replied.

"I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare!" The city lord waved his hands in denial; this was not a trivial accusation. Seeing Guo Yuan’s noncommittal expression, he suddenly turned to Meng Yi, bowing repeatedly. "Brother Han, forgive us. Let us put this matter behind us, and I promise to compensate you handsomely."

Meng Yi was not one to wield his power to bully others. He nodded coolly. "Since it’s a misunderstanding, let’s leave it at that."

Seeing Meng Yi so understanding, the city lord heaped on the praise and eagerly invited the two men into the city, his posture deferential to the extreme. Throughout their journey, he kept up a lively conversation, acting as if they were old friends. Inwardly, Meng Yi couldn’t help but admire him; the city lord was clearly a man of talent, skilled at maneuvering between opposing forces.

Guo Yuan was genuinely pleased to encounter Meng Yi by chance and no longer declined the city lord’s invitation. The host and guests gathered cheerfully for a banquet.

"I didn’t expect that Brother Han was in the salt trade," Guo Yuan remarked curiously during the meal. Most merchants sourced their goods in Linzi; it was rare to travel directly to the coast.

"I had never seen a salt field before and was intrigued, so I came to see the spectacle," Meng Yi replied with a smile.

"What spectacle? All I’ve seen these past days are salt workers toiling under the sun and wind, struggling to survive," Guo Yuan said with a trace of melancholy.

The city lord, ever the flatterer, nodded vigorously and praised Guo Yuan’s concern for the people, though inwardly he dismissed it. Without these lowly workers laboring day and night, how would the Guo clan enjoy its wealth?

"So, Young Master Guo rushed here to observe the lives of the people?" Meng Yi swirled his wine cup, his tone teasing.

"Not quite," Guo Yuan hesitated. "In truth, I am searching for something."

"Young master!" his father’s trusted retainer quickly interrupted.

"Ahem." Guo Yuan realized his slip and coughed to cover it, then enthusiastically invited Meng Yi to join him for a seaside excursion the next day.

Since Guo Yuan would not elaborate, no one pressed him further. In a family as large as the Guo clan, secrets were inevitable.

As for Meng Yi’s supposed curiosity, no one believed it; they assumed it was merely an excuse. Merchants pursued profit—he must have thought buying salt directly from the source would be cheaper and more lucrative.

Fools! The city lord laughed inwardly. The salt fields of Langya were all owned by the great families, and it had long been agreed that salt could only be transported to Linzi for sale. Once Meng Yi ran into this wall in a few days, he would understand his mistake.

That night, after the banquet had ended, Meng Yi stood at his window gazing at the bright moon.

"My lord, isn’t it strange that Young Master Guo is also in Langya?" Su’er brought in a bowl of sobering soup.

"Strange indeed. I doubt it’s a coincidence." Based on what he’d learned at the banquet and Tian Chang’s evasive manner, it seemed likely that Guo Yuan was the target.

"Su’er, we’ll have to postpone searching for your father’s old hermitage for now."

"I’ll do as you think best," Su’er replied softly, nestling against him. The two of them watched the night quietly from the window.

Early the next morning, Guo Yuan arrived to invite them, and together they set out for the coast.

Though Meng Yi had lived two lives, he’d never seen the sea. The vast blue expanse, where water and sky met, left him in awe.

"These are the salt fields," the city lord volunteered as their guide.

Looking out, they saw countless stone basins dotting the beach, with ragged salt workers busy at their tasks.

Salt was the most important resource in Qi. In truth, other states also produced salt: Wu, Yue, and Yan bordered the sea, and even Qin and Jin had salt wells and lakes. But for some reason, only the sea water of Qi yielded salt in such high quantity and superior quality, making it prized throughout the lands.

"The most difficult part of salt-making is boiling the brine," the city lord explained.

After some clarification, Meng Yi realized that "boiling salt" did not mean cooking seawater directly. The workers first dug channels to direct seawater into the salt fields. After exposure to sun and wind, the brine would seep out, which was then collected via trenches and poured into stone basins, where it was boiled over fires to yield salt.

"It sounds simple, but in reality, the output is extremely low. Each grain of salt requires tremendous effort," Guo Yuan remarked with feeling.

"Young master, the lord’s instructions remain unfinished," Guo Xia’s trusted man could not help but remind him.

Guo Yuan smiled apologetically at Meng Yi and left him in the city lord’s care to continue touring the salt fields.

Several days passed in this way, and Meng Yi grew restless in Langya. The city lord remained polite but increasingly distant. The Tian clan’s guide, after being released, had hurried back to Linzi during the night. The promised contact from Tian Chang never arrived.

The matter of Tian Rangju remained murky. Meng Yi dared not make open inquiries in the city, and, finding himself with nothing to do, considered searching the countryside for clues.

At that moment, his guards reported that an old acquaintance was visiting.

An old acquaintance? Who could be here?

A man entered, heavily cloaked, and lifted his hat—it was none other than Tian Chang.

"Brother Han, I must apologize; there’s been a mishap."

"Young Master Tian, this joke has gone far enough. If you hadn’t come, would you have left me here to learn how to make salt?"

Tian Chang sighed. "The city lord is a branch member of the Tian clan. For reasons unknown, he’s suddenly rebelled against the main family. I’d arranged for him to look after you, but now it’s all backfired."

"That’s your family’s internal affair; it has nothing to do with me. Since you’ve come in person, can we proceed with our original agreement?"

"After the commotion at the city gate, the matter must be dropped."

"Dropped? That’s easy for you to say. What about the trade route?" Meng Yi asked, surprised.

"Rest assured, Brother Han. I gave you my word and will not go back on it. I’ll take you there myself."

"How generous of you, Young Master Tian," Meng Yi replied, eyeing him with suspicion. He knew the value of such a route.

"After all, you’ve come hundreds of miles for this. It’s only fair," Tian Chang said, pounding his chest with conviction.

So that was it. Meng Yi fell silent. With the trade route secured, there was little reason to remain, but since this matter seemed connected to Su’er’s father, he was reluctant to leave just yet.

While he hesitated, a commotion erupted outside. The city lord’s booming voice rang out, "Brother Han! Brother Han, are you there?"

Meng Yi stepped out to find the city lord running into the courtyard, breathless and shouting, "Brother Han, something’s happened—Young Master Guo has been taken!"