Chapter Nine: Could It Be That You Were Also Sent by the Liang Family?

In the Great Yan Kingdom, having a proper meal was an irresistible temptation for ordinary folk. With Zhao Hengyi’s promise, the young people chosen to venture into the mountains would surely have their fill.

In the end, the village chief and the elders selected thirteen nimble young men to accompany Zhao Hengyi and Old Wu Liu as assistants on their hunting trip. Those chosen were beside themselves with excitement, while the others could only look on with longing.

This was already a compromise by the chief and the elders; any more participants, and it would no longer be assisting Zhao Hengyi, but rather blatant exploitation and taking advantage.

Zhao Hengyi didn’t mind the crowd. The profits from hunting were trivial to him; even if the spoils were divided among everyone, it mattered little. What he cared about was winning hearts.

Once he established himself as the one who could provide good days and full bellies, his future plans and methods would unfold much more smoothly.

The thirteen selected young men needed to learn from Old Wu Liu for a few days first. After all, teaching so many people how not to startle prey, how to navigate the mountains, and how to find water sources would take too much time if done in the wild.

Fortunately, these youths lived by Mount Qing. Even if they hadn’t hunted before, most had gathered wild fruit and vegetables, and the mountains weren’t unfamiliar to them.

For this hunting trip, Old Wu Liu proposed a three-to-seven split: he would take thirty percent, and Zhao Hengyi seventy. Zhao Hengyi didn’t object, but voluntarily set aside twenty percent to purchase provisions for their next expedition.

When the crowd dispersed, the six little ones gathered around Zhao Hengyi, asking endless questions and begging their brother-in-law for stories about hunting in the mountains.

Zhao Hengyi wasn’t bothered by his sisters at all. Instead, he seized the opportunity to spin tall tales, nearly painting himself as a celestial being descended from the heavens. The girls were alternately startled and thrilled, clutching his arm in nervous excitement one moment, cheering for his bravery the next.

Such lively commotion was just what a home should be.

Miao Xiaoyu watched Zhao Hengyi and her sisters with a gentle smile, then brought out her old loom to weave some cloth, hoping to supplement the household income.

In a poor mountain village like Elm Tree Bay, owning a loom—even one so old it was nearly falling apart—was an enviable asset. With a loom, a woman could contribute to the household and avoid being seen as a burden by the men, gaining a bit more respect and status.

It was the first time Zhao Hengyi had seen Miao Xiaoyu weaving. He glanced at her work and quickly noticed something amiss.

Not only was the loom old, its design was extremely inefficient; the weaving speed was slow, and even the spindle was set horizontally.

“Xiaoyu, your loom could be improved. It’s far too slow. Have you ever seen a faster loom?”

His seemingly casual question made Miao Xiaoyu tremble and freeze in place. Her beautiful cheeks and wide eyes stared at Zhao Hengyi with disbelief and immense disappointment, as if she had been abandoned by the world—or betrayed by her closest, most trusted person.

“Husband, are you from the Liang family too?”

Miao Xiaoyu gave a bitter smile. “Liang family is truly formidable. I admit defeat.”

Zhao Hengyi was stunned.

What did she mean?

He had simply recalled the Jenny spinning frame from his previous life and wanted to help upgrade the loom’s design. How did that make him a Liang family agent? And who exactly were the Liangs?

There was clearly a misunderstanding. Seeing Miao Xiaoyu’s heartbroken expression, Zhao Hengyi felt a pang in his chest. At some point, this gentle, thoughtful, yet resilient girl had quietly found her way into his heart.

He sent the six little ones outside to play and questioned Miao Xiaoyu carefully, finally uncovering the source of the misunderstanding.

It turned out the decline of the Miao family—and the deaths of its elders—were all connected to the Liang family.

The Miaos had once been the largest cloth merchants in Dang County, not only buying cloth from small households in the surrounding areas, but also running their own production with a weaving factory.

At its peak, the Miao factory operated over a thousand looms.

Miao Xiaoyu’s father, who was often teased as the father of seven fairy daughters, was a determined man. To improve efficiency, he had developed a new type of loom that could boost a skilled worker’s daily output by fifty percent—a staggering increase that could reshape the entire industry. If the Miaos could quietly replace all their machines, they would surely become leaders in their field.

But news of the new loom leaked soon after it was finalized.

Miao Xiaoyu’s father, realizing the leak, ruthlessly burned the only prototype to ashes.

After that, the vast Miao family collapsed swiftly. Its members died under mysterious circumstances, leaving only Miao Xiaoyu—with the cursed reputation of a jinx—struggling to survive with her six younger sisters.

And the culprit behind all this was none other than the rival cloth merchants, the Liang family.

Watching Miao Xiaoyu weep like pear blossoms in the rain, Zhao Hengyi’s mind raced.

If the Liang family truly orchestrated the Miao family’s downfall, then their plot had begun as soon as all of Xiaoyu’s betrothed suitors died one by one.

The Liangs left Xiaoyu and her six sisters alive not out of mercy, but to pry secrets of the new loom from her.

No wonder his casual question had made her suspect he was a Liang agent.

“Xiaoyu, look here. I don’t know what the new loom designed by the Great Taishan Lord looked like, but I have just thought up a new weaving machine that might be even more efficient.”

Zhao Hengyi’s explanation managed to convince Xiaoyu he had no ties to the Liang family, but he knew her doubts needed to be fully dispelled.

Taking a hatchet, he drew a rudimentary diagram of the Jenny spinning frame on the mud floor of the hut.

Miao Xiaoyu clearly understood the craft—perhaps she had kept her father’s loom design secret all this time.

With just a few simple lines, she grasped what this novel loom represented.

The spindle was changed from horizontal to vertical, with eight spindles per machine, and a foot pedal to free the hands. Once mastered, production could increase eightfold!

“Husband, stop drawing!”