Breach of Contract

These days, the Qians have been laying low, barely stepping outside and acting as if they’re taking it easy. But behind closed doors, they’re up to plenty of sneaky business.

Meanwhile, far away in Kingston, Mr. Ma of the Porcelain Guild was busy preparing the order requested by Arthur Evans.

Arthur Evans took this business very seriously. Even though his son was about to leave for overseas studies, he personally came to Kingston to oversee the deal.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly. Arthur Evans and Mr. Ma signed the contract, the porcelain had already been firing, and seventy percent was finished. The remaining thirty percent was still in the kiln and would be ready in a few days—just in time to ship to Charleston and wrap things up.

To play it safe, Arthur Evans decided to stay in Kingston and personally escort the porcelain shipment back once the order was complete.

"Sir, a letter for you."

Mr. Ma looked up and saw the red seal on the envelope, with a big "Confidential" character stamped on it. He knew it was a secret letter, so he took it, dismissed the servants, and kept only his son Martin Ma by his side.

"Dad, is that a secret letter from Uncle Qian?" Martin Ma asked.

Mr. Ma grunted in response and opened the letter.

Though Mr. Ma was getting on in years, his eyes were as sharp as ever—honed by decades of watching kilns and spotting flaws. Fire and porcelain had given him a gaze that missed nothing.

Mr. Ma wasn’t one to hide things from his son. He started reading the letter right in front of Martin Ma—and as he read, his brows began to furrow.

Martin Ma was totally lost. "Dad, why does Uncle Qian want us to break the contract with Mr. Evans? The deal’s already signed, most of the porcelain is ready—if we bail now, what’s left of the Ma family’s reputation?"

Mr. Ma sighed. "Your Uncle Qian must have his reasons. Didn’t you see? He wrote that if we break the contract with Mr. Evans, he’ll cover all our penalties and losses. He’ll even buy the whole batch of porcelain at the original price."

Martin scratched his head. "Dad, I just don’t get it. Why is Uncle Qian so set against Mr. Evans?"

Mr. Ma glanced at Martin. "I don’t get it either. But your Uncle Qian said that if we never work with Mr. Evans again, he’ll pull some strings and make you mayor of Kingston."

"Mayor of Kingston…" Martin’s eyes went wide. That was the dream job for anyone in the Ma family!

Faced with such generous terms from the Qians, Mr. Ma and Martin exchanged a long look—both of them tempted beyond belief.

Merchants were at the bottom of the social ladder. The Ma family made a fortune from porcelain, sure, but in the eyes of society, they were still just lowly traders.

Mr. Ma had always dreamed of his son becoming an official. Too bad Martin was hopeless at his studies, and even a donated position would only get him a lowly clerk’s job.

The mayor of Kingston was the top official in town. Mr. Ma had never dared to dream his son might get a shot at that.

Kingston was Qian territory. When it came to appointing officials here, the Qians called all the shots.

In other words, all they had to do was say yes, and Martin would be an official.

Father and son agonized for ages, torn between honor and ambition. Finally, Mr. Ma clenched his jaw and said, "Our family has always valued its reputation above all else. But just this once—for you, for our future—we’ll break the rule. Martin, go tell Mr. Evans the deal’s off. We’ll pay every cent of the penalty, not a penny short. Let him find someone else. There’s only five days left until the deadline, and if he tries to place a new order now, it’ll be too late. Sorry, Mr. Evans—just this once, we’re putting family first!"