Chapter Eighty: Inferior Mosquito Coils

The crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed. They understood that the fault did not lie with the Bai Family Cloth Shop. Most likely, it was the mosquito coils they had been using that caused the problem.

Madam Li brought over the remaining mosquito coils, still visibly anxious.
“Could it really be these coils that caused the trouble?”
She felt uneasy after rashly accusing the shop earlier.
“Yes,” Han Qing replied thoughtfully. “The coils were originally supposed to be made from camphor wood, but other weeds and trees were mixed in. Prolonged use could lead to illness.”
At first, Han Qing hadn’t thought much of it, but upon reflection, he suspected the Zhao Family’s shop had acted deliberately.

Initially, they attracted customers with low prices, stealing business from Han Qing’s side. Yet their early investments hadn’t paid off. To root themselves deeply in this industry, controlling the raw materials was vital. Now it made sense why some people were unwilling to let go, muddying the waters and making it difficult for others to intervene.

“Those scoundrels, they’re risking the lives of the common folk!” Madam Li cried angrily, intent on reporting to the county office.

“Perhaps it was just a moment of confusion?” Han Qing spoke gently, refusing to place all blame on any one party, his demeanor calm and magnanimous.

“Master Han, you’re far too kind. Everyone knows it was you who started the mosquito coil shop. Somehow, they got hold of your recipe, and now they’re cutting corners…”
Brother Li chimed in, quietly but with determined eyes. They were resolved to hold the Zhao Family accountable.

Han Qing had no authority to intervene, but he advised everyone to take their medicine as prescribed and avoid using inferior mosquito coils.

Once word spread, Han Qing’s reputation soared. Even those who had doubted him began to realize they too had suffered from coil poisoning.

A group marched to the Zhao Family residence, demanding an explanation and forbidding the sale of inferior coils.

“Master, there’s a crowd outside causing trouble—something’s wrong with the mosquito coil shop.”

“How did this happen? We’ve been running the shop for over a month. Our customers are almost regulars now—why trouble at this moment?”
Old Master Zhao was incredulous. It was meant to be a promising business; how had his own family managed to ruin it?

Not long after, he snapped awake to the truth.
“Did you cut corners again?”
The culprit was obvious. He’d tried to spare him some dignity, but now saw no reason.

“Master, I just noticed our profits weren’t rising, so I tried to skimp a bit, but no one could usually tell.”
Uncle Zhao admitted his guilt. If he hadn’t cut costs, they’d have no profit at all. The struggle was real.

“Go apologize immediately and clarify the matter,” the old master ordered coldly.
With people at their door, he needed to settle compensation quickly. The shop’s reputation was crucial. Once ruined, who would trust the Zhao Family again?

“But we sold over a thousand boxes in the last batch. If we compensate each customer, we’ll lose everything,” Uncle Zhao hesitated.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay, but compensation would erase half a year’s hard work.

“How can you be so foolish? Is reputation more important, or those fleeting profits?”
The old master’s anger flared. The stupidity of his kin astounded him.

“If you don’t resolve this, you’re no longer part of the Zhao Family.”
He laid down the ultimatum.

Uncle Zhao went out reluctantly to apologize, but the townsfolk wouldn’t accept it.

“You sold inferior coils—you must be punished. We’ve already reported you to the magistrate!”
Madam Li shouted furiously.

“That’s right. Compensation alone won’t solve the problem. Did your family suffer poisoning?”
“Exactly!”
The crowd was relentless. In the end, Uncle Zhao was led away by the authorities.

Magistrate Wen handled the case impartially and imposed penalties.

A fine of over three hundred taels was levied, and the Zhao Family’s mosquito coil shop was banned from operating.
In just over a month, they had incurred enormous losses.

The old master was nearly overcome with regret, not because his prior methods were flawed, but because he felt he had no capable people under his command.
Falling ill, he took to his bed.

Zhao Chengzhang hurried over upon hearing the news.

“I warned you not to meddle in things beyond your reach, but you refused to listen and insisted on interfering at the last moment.”
He spoke earnestly.

The old master, having struggled all his life, never imagined he’d stumble because of his own kin.

“What do you know? We finally had a chance to establish ourselves in Beijun City—how could we tolerate an unknown upstart rising above us?”
After a few words of persuasion, Zhao Chengzhang realized the old man was stubborn beyond reason. Better to let him rest and recover. When he finally understood, everything would resolve itself.

With the Zhao Family’s mosquito coil shop shut down, the market was left without this industry.
Han Qing’s shop quickly welcomed back its old customers. The prices remained unchanged.

Now the locals understood: you get what you pay for. If you seek momentary savings at the cost of your health, the loss far outweighs the gain.

Moreover, Han Qing’s shop didn’t just sell coils for indoor use; they also offered wind oil and floral water.
These novel products, once introduced, quickly became popular.
Originally given as gifts with mosquito coil purchases, they soon became the shop’s bestsellers.

Witnessing these developments, it seemed the situation had returned to normal.

Young Master Zhu arrived in high spirits to offer congratulations.

“This strategy is brilliant! The people are now willing to buy your coils of their own accord.”

But Han Qing shook his head.
He didn’t see it as something to celebrate.
This was only the beginning.

“It was just a minor effort. The people have their own judgment.”