He was still in disguise, dressed in a white robe and holding a folding fan, pretending to be a scholar out for a stroll. The poetry gathering at the Pipa Pavilion was starting to warm up; occasionally, carriages would stop on the street, some people would come out to greet them, and polite phrases like “sir” and “brother” were exchanged endlessly.

With his reputation, entering would surely kill the mood, so he observed from across the street for a while. Not seeing anyone he recognized, he headed toward a tofu pudding shop with an excellent location.

The tofu pudding shop was small, but it happened to be right in front of a jewelry store. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together—if your goods are good, you needn’t fear competition. Opening next to a big store to draw in customers is the simplest recipe for success.

He straightened his clothes, entered the shop, ordered a bowl of tofu pudding, and sat at a small table to chat with the shop owners. The shop was run by an elderly couple in their fifties. When they heard he wanted to take over the shop, their faces immediately soured, and they told him to finish eating and leave.

He had started from scratch himself, working his way up step by step, so he handled this small situation with ease. He persisted for nearly half an hour, almost talking himself into becoming their son-in-law, before finally persuading the couple.

In the midst of all the back-and-forth, a young woman entered the shop. She wore a warm yellow silk dress, was extremely petite, but dressed flamboyantly. Her first words upon entering were: “Mrs. Ford, two bowls of tofu pudding, to go.”

It was evening and the shop was empty. The newcomer was so petite that William Carter couldn’t help but notice her and glanced back to size her up.

The petite woman’s manner was casual, not at all like a refined lady of the era, yet her clothes and accessories were anything but vulgar.

He assumed she was a girl from a nearby brothel and unconsciously raised his eyebrows. If that were the case, she probably wouldn’t come cheap—he’d have to pay a visit another time.

The petite woman in the warm yellow dress noticed the man’s lecherous gaze, and her face immediately darkened. “Bookworm, what are you staring at?”

Her words were sharp, with not a trace of demure gentleness.

He was rather surprised. After being cursed out by traitors and eunuchs so much lately, being called a bookworm actually felt refreshing. He raised his hand in a proper gesture. “I am Scott Miller. If I have offended you, miss, please forgive me.”

The old woman from the shop came out, quickly smiling and interjecting, “Sarah Sullivan, why bother with this scholar? He’s poor, fails the exams year after year, and can only rely on his wife to get by—a hard life. If not, why would he need to take over the tofu pudding shop to make a living?”

Master Carter remained expressionless, eating his tofu pudding at his own pace.

The woman named Sarah Sullivan was the manager of the Baibao Zhai next door. Hearing this, she looked him up and down suspiciously. “You, a scholar, know how to make tofu pudding?”

William Carter chuckled. “Learning is endless—no one is born knowing everything.”

The petite woman frowned. Since they were strangers, she didn’t say more. She packed two bowls of tofu pudding in a food box and left.

William Carter continued negotiating with the elderly couple, talking about all sorts of things. Their daughter had married well, and running the shop was just to pass the time. The high price of a hundred taels of official silver finally moved them, and he took over the two-story shop.

In the past, William Carter had maintained an image of being free from desire to win the emperor’s trust. Aside from a mansion awarded by the court, he had no other property. The hundred taels of silver were even tricked out of his steward Lucy Frost; it was the highest stake he could muster.

With the shop settled, next came renovations, workers, goods, and so on. He didn’t have spare cash for now, and as a local bigwig in the capital, he couldn’t personally run the shop. He’d have to find a frontman before he could start.

Of course, all this would have to be done gradually.

He walked out of the tofu pudding shop, feeling that he had finally taken his first step in this world. Looking at the ladies and young misses on the street, all wearing crude jewelry, it was as if he saw walking ATMs everywhere.

The craftsmanship of the ancients wasn’t necessarily inferior to that of modern people—they could also create exquisite things. But he was William Carter, a top-tier jewelry master even in modern times. When it came to craftsmanship, he truly looked down on everyone else.

However, trends change constantly. If he made jewelry purely according to modern aesthetics, people would see it as strange and hard to accept. To become an instant hit, he’d have to borrow from the current popular styles in Bianjing.

William Carter stood on the street, staring intently at the passing ladies and misses, which naturally drew quite a few glares. Still, he had a handsome face, and though his two bushy mustaches were a bit unsightly, they didn’t ruin his overall looks. A few girls, blushing with annoyance, shot him angry glances, leaving him a bit unsettled.

The classical beauty of these women truly had a unique charm. Their shy demeanor was exactly to Master Carter’s taste.

He adjusted his headscarf, just about to step forward and invite a few beauties back to the marquis’s residence to discuss poetry, when a commotion suddenly broke out nearby:

“Mr. Sullivan, doing business like this—aren’t you afraid of ruining your own reputation?”

“Anna Turner, don’t you slander me!”

He looked over.

Outside Baibao Zhai on Yanglou Street, several men dressed as scholars were gathered at the entrance. The leading young man was dressed in finery, with two jade pendants hanging from his waist, one carved with ‘joy in mountains,’ the other with ‘joy in water.’

The benevolent delight in mountains, the wise delight in water.

The meaning of the two jade pendants was quite nice, and the material was excellent, but the man’s face was full of displeasure. He lightly shook his folding fan, looking at the petite woman at the entrance of Baibao Zhai:

“This hairpin was meant as a gift for Miss Turner, but who would have thought it was a piece of junk? Luckily, I didn’t give it to her, otherwise…”

He went on and on.