Zhao Yongkang was overseeing the management of the Minjiang River in Fubian town. Every day, he observed the water conditions and inspected the embankments eroded by strong currents. His robust figure stood against the fierce winds on the slope of the embankment, his shirt billowing, highlighting his muscular frame. He extended his fingers to gauge the water level visually. At work, he looked almost ferocious, his mind always bustling with a myriad of calculations.

    This is Tiama village, which frequently suffered from floods. According to astrology, it's due to the fierce clash between the earth and water elements here. Fields and houses were repeatedly battered by the waters into wide sandy beaches. The villagers had cast iron horse statues by the river as a talisman against these disasters, giving the place its name, Tiama.

    "your highness, the storm is coming. It's time to return..."

    The local magistrate whispered with a bored look, puzzled why the young noble from the capital was here in this place of mere wind and water. The young prince's entourage didn’t understand his thoughts either, no one can really read through him.

    "You guys return to the district first," he said sparingly, his sharp eyes fixed on the water level, not bothering to look at the magistrate or his followers. Managing the river was a demanding task requiring precise and prompt action. "In about an hour, this area will be completely drawn."

    "What!" Everyone exchanged looks. "Then let's hurry."

    "The river now contains six parts of mud and sand. This is the best time to measure the water levels and flow rate at this time," he stared coolly against the wind. "You guys go back now. The current won't harm me."

    "But..."

    Zhao Yongkang paid no further heed to anyone, continuing along the embankment with only his close footman following. The magistrate and his men, sensing trouble, excused themselves to check on the accommodations for the noble before hurriedly riding back to Tiama village. Once there, they remained uneasy, constantly looking toward the road. Despite the village being ten li away from the river, Prince Third predictions had never been wrong. As people remained jittery, the lookout in the temple bell tower gave no signal of an impending flood, seeing no signs of the flood.

    "This Prince Third must be delusional as rumored."

    "Exactly, he's insane."

    The magistrate grew irritable. This prince was a young, robust prince, reputed to be a river god, but meeting him in person had been a letdown. He prepared meals and drinks await, but before anyone was sent to fetch him, Zhao Yongkang returns from the embankment, heads straight for the food without any formalities, and the magistrate, while providing conveniences, glances at the water clock.

    "It's almost an hour now, and still, no sign of a flood."

    Zhao Yongkang, pausing from eating, glanced at the long shadows on the ground, trusting the sun more than the water clock.

    "It's coming soon."

    "Ah," the magistrate scoffed, disinterested in further conversation. But before he could move, everyone's faces blanched at the roaring sound of water rushing from afar, carrying mud, debris, and large branches, sounding almost like thunder. The bell ringer at the temple rang the alarm vigorously.

    "Da... danger! The water's coming, coming! Run, get up the hills!"

    The magistrate was nearly out of his wits as the usually quiet village erupted in chaos. The alarm bell rang out, people from every direction hustling with their children and elderly, grabbing whatever possessions they could as they fled towards higher ground. Only Zhao Yongkang remained nonchalantly eating his rice, his attendant too, accustomed to his demeanor, continued to eat unperturbed.

    "Your highness, why aren't you fleeing? Hurry, guard the prince out," the palace guards were frantic, but Zhao Yongkang shook his head and remained playfully calm.

    "There's no need to panic. There is an iron horses here as a charm; the water won’t reach us."

    "But last year, this place had already..."

    "We have an embankment that spans four hundred fifty-two zhang. Today, the water level has risen two zhang per hour. Calculating the distance from the riverbank to Tiama village, the flood won't reach here," Zhao Yongkang spoke calmly and continued eating. "I've been observing the sandy banks of the river. When the water hits the banks, its speed decreases, and it traps mud and sediment. I'm waiting to see if it will rise enough to form a natural dam. If it does, it could save us hundreds of thousands in expenses."

    "The water is coming!"

    The last villager's cry of alarm followed the evacuees. The village, once bustling with people, was now deserted, followed by an increasing roar of water sounding like a cavalry charge. Those of faint heart leaped onto horses and fled in panic. Only two bodyguards stood firm, protecting their master to the end.

    As it turned out, the flood did not inundate Tiama village as Zhao Yongkang had calculated. After the water subsided, a natural earthen dam appeared. The rain continued heavily non-stop. The magistrate stayed on the hill for two days, too afraid to come down. Once certain of the situation, he rode back to the village to show his spirit, but prince Zhao Yongkang had long since moved on to inspect another embankment.

    "Your highness, your skill in managing the river is as legendary as rumored," the chief guard praised sincerely. When he first saw the flood waters surge from a distance, he thought they were doomed. But to his surprise, the water stopped before reaching the outer embankment of the district. He resolved to pass this story down as a legend to his descendants.

    "There is someone more skilled than I am"

    "Who would that be, sir?"

    "The person who marked the spots on the river map for me, that's the real genius," Zhao Yongkang replied, a smirk on his face as he recalled the fierce young lady he had once shared a carriage with, discussing the nature of earth and water. She must be grown up by now. If possible, he wished she could be by his side right here, making these inspections much more enjoyable.

    "Well, once we finish inspecting the embankment at the next village, we can return to the capital."

    Zhao Yongkang was fond of recording things, always carrying a book or a piece of charcoal to jot down notes. But lately, his followers noticed he was constantly holding a book of love stories:The Love Tales of the Young Butterflies — a type of novel so daring that respectable women would flee from it.

    "Ah, you like reading these kinds of books too?"

    "This?" Zhao Yongkang looked up from the novel, open at a page showing an illustration of a brawny warrior in an exotic pose making love to a beautiful woman, their limbs entwined in impossible contortions. They were all imaginative postures of Kamasutra.

    "I'm studying the author. Reading this, it's clear the writer has no real experience. Quite amusing."

    Everyone laughed and teased him, “We would have to hand this kind of thing to you to be a teacher, then. Let’s start from the basics.”

    "Mm, if possible, I would go back and teach them myself."

    "Achoo!"

    At the same time, Qin Meilan was looking up at the dark clouds silently. The sky had been clear for less than two days when thick clouds formed again. The city roads were still muddy and flooded, while the rural roads were likely turning into a sea of mud. The Minjiang River, always so capricious, was swelling with a mass of soil, plants, and grass, churning into turbulent waves that stretched as far as the eye could see. That person must be out there in the rain, commanding the repair of the embankments, covered in mud.

    "For whatever reason, Qin Meilan began examining the river map. Her thoughts drifted until...

    “Achoo!! Someone must be talking about me for sure,” Qin Meilan sneezed loudly. Mao Juwin quickly pulled the curtains and instructed a maid to heat up some ginger tea. She fetched a shawl for Qin Meilan before tidying up her dress.

    “Such a loud and hideous sneeze! Young lady, you've been sitting by the window since morning. You'll catch a cold. 'I've told you until I'm blue in the face, even when you're in your private room, you must sit properly. Sitting like a man is unbecoming.”

    “But it's comfortable this way. Fine, fine, I won't sit then. Don't scold me, sister Jun, or you'll lose your beauty. Please, give me a little smile”

    Mao Jun couldn't help but smile at her lady's cajoling. She caressed Qin Meilan tenderly, “You're grown up now; don’t act like a child. You seem distracted. Are you feeling unwell? Shall I prepare some tonic for you?”

    “No, I'm just waiting.”

    “Waiting for what?”

    “Waiting to slap that old woman. When will my beloved big mother send someone to fetch me?' Qin Meilan practiced air slaps, swaying slightly and swinging her arms as if to demonstrate. “Yesterday, I slapped that old lady twice, pity I forgot to twist my body a bit, the slap was too gentle. Today, I will insert a gold coin between my fingers before slapping. It will be called a golden slap. Let them come, I will slap them roll.'

    Mao Jun rolled her eyes, “Are you serious, young lady, or just jesting?”

    “I'm just saying. If you don’t like it, Jun, I won’t do it. Since I was orphaned, it’s been only you who loves me. I love you the most too.”

    “What are you buttering me up for today, Miss? Today, Manager Rong is supposed to send someone to pick up the manuscript. You’ve been avoiding reality for days; I won’t help you with the ink tonight.”

    Qin Meilan pouted at Mao Jun, who knew too well her lady was shirking her duties, “Tell them to postpone until tomorrow then. I’m not in the mood to write today.”

    Manager Rong is Rong Qi, a young merchant who inherited his family's business. He would invest in anything profitable. Mao Jun remembered when Qin Meilan, at the age of ten, had sneaked out of the manor to buy paper at the largest shop in Gaoshan, which was managed by the young Master Hong at the time.

    “I need paper, notebooks, brushes, and a full set of ink sticks,” said the little girl in tattered clothes, her body bruised, barely half the height of young Mr. Rong Qi and unlikely to be literate. Rong Qi was not a talkative person. He sold to whoever bought his products without asking too many questions. When she address the list of things she wanted, he stated the price.

    “The total is three taels,” he told her.

    “I will give you three hundred taels by the end of the month,”

    She replied immediately. The young man was stunned by the audacity of the little girl. It wasn’t easy for adults, let alone a young girl, to gather three hundred taels. Her dirty old clothes made her look more like a beggar than a rich heiress who was born on the mountain of golds, except for her bright, piercing eyes that hinted she was a hidden blade.

    “Cash on delivery,” he pointed to the shop's policy sign. “If you don’t have the money, let's not waste time.”

    'I understand. Every merchant wants cash, but if you don't invest a little, you won’t get a lot. Am I right?' Rong Qi laughed as he listened to the little girl debating trading principles, then gestured to his assistant, to take her to the negotiation room."

    "You are sufficiently qualified as a negotiating partner. Tell me, what do you want?"

    "I want you to invest with me. You're the only one with a printing press. You pay for the paper, ink, and labor, while I provide the intellect. Three hundred taels is the minimum profit you will make."

    "Young miss... I don't know you. Three hundred taels is not a small amount. What guarantees do you have that you can do this?"

    "My name is Qin Meilan. Consider us acquainted now," the girl said with a smile at the corner of her mouth. If he thought she couldn't raise the money, he was mistaken. "You yourself sell novels for five coppers each to the villagers."

    "Yes, they sell well indeed. But the writer drank himself to death. Lately, there have been no new stories, and people are beginning to lose interest."

    "That's exactly why you should invest in me. And here is my guarantee." Qin Meilan took a notebook from her robe and handed it to Rong Qi. He was first impressed by her neat, well-practiced handwriting. Rong Qi intended to read just one paragraph and set it aside, but he found himself turning page after page, unable to stop until he had finished the book.

    "What about the ending? Did they get married? Where does the story end?"

    "It’s here," she pointed to her head.

    "You wrote this?"

    "Correct. If you think my books are worth investing in, I'm willing to make a loan agreement. If I fail, you lose nothing. Do we have a deal?"

    "Um..." Rong Qi looked from the novel in his hands to Qin Meilan's beaming smile. "Since I've learned to use an abacus, I've never encountered something like this. Alright... I'll give you a chance. If you truly turn a profit, I'm willing to invest in expanding a printing house just for you."

    From then on, people clamored for the novels of the joyous young scholar. Even the blind had others read to them. Rong Qi kept his promise and expanded the printing house, yet it still couldn't keep up with demand, so he had to open another store just to handle her books. The three taels initially invested multiplied into a considerable sum. Qin Meilan's account ballooned, and her living conditions improved drastically, no longer needing to endure hunger or the cold in a dilapidated house.

    Years passed, and from a scruffy child, she grew into a beautiful young woman. When she placed a geology book on Rong Qi's table and said writing novels got old easy, yet get rich hard. , She said let's mine salt together, the Rong family didn't hesitate to increase their investment. She pointed out the salt sources, while Rong Qi handled the legal aspects of the salt concession. Their real profits came from smuggling salt, and salt transport required protection, thus Yangdalong protection agency and Rong Qi became partners in her illegal salt trade.

    "Young lady, don't be so stressed. Although it's important to make money quickly, you should take care of your health."

    "I know."

    Qin Meilan's brows furrowed. She hated this place and was eager to find a way out, so she hurried to make money to build her own temple, with justifiable reasons that would prevent anyone from criticizing her to her mother's face. And then Mao Jun had a brilliant idea.

    "Miss! I know what to do. I heard people in the main house talking. Next month, there's a peony viewing at the royal palace. The goal is to gather beautiful women from various families for the third prince to choose from."

    "The third prince..." Qin Meilan frowned. "Zhao Yongkang, that Book demon?"

    "Yes," Mao Jun smiled. "This third prince is so busy he doesn't care about marriage. The empress has let him go around for years but finally had to step in. And you, young lady, don't want to marry but want to change your surname. I think this prince is perfect for you. But..."

    "You fool."

    "What?"

    "Nothing, it's just that the big mother has already targeted the third prince for my sisters, right?"

    "Yes."

    "That's troublesome. I don't even remember which book I used his jade bookmark in. Put down the tea and help me find it quickly."

    "Do you want to marry the third prince? That would be amazing."

    "Nonsense! Who would want to marry that fool? I just want to play a joke on the big mother with the jade."

    "Oh! You really are something, young lady."

    Mao Jun had not yet set down the new cup of tea she was holding for the young lady when a maid from the main house came running in, looking alarmed. "The great lady... the great lady is calling for third lady to the main house, she seems very angry."

    "I know. I'll go in a moment." Qin Meilan was squeezing through the tightly packed bookshelves, barely able to walk. She searched through the books organized by Zhao Yongkang and found the shimmering dragon-patterned jade she had been looking for. She thought of his stern face but goofy demeanor and chuckled to herself.

    "Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrives," Qin Meilan grabbed paper and a brush, quickly writing several invitations before ordering the maid to deliver them directly to the people named on them. "Alright, help me comb my hair and change my clothes, sister Jun. Go all out, it's time to slap some sense into someone."

    Mao Jun looked on with a bemused expression, "Yes, young lady."