Chapter 7: A Stinging Slap to the Face

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Xu Chengyue sat on a crescent-shaped stool, her arms resting on the tall-legged long table. Her gaze was vacant as she watched the lively birds hopping about on the branches outside the window. Her eyes were dull, and the pen in her hand hovered motionless over the paper.

Today should have been the release day for the second volume of her book, yet she was uncharacteristically anxious. A faint sense of dread gnawed at her heart, uncertain whether her writing would find favor in this era.

Unable to concentrate on writing or conjure any plot ideas, she set down her pen and rose to walk into the courtyard.

She wandered aimlessly through the yard, her anxious mood unrelenting. Each breath she exhaled carried a restless heat.

If, if her book truly failed to sell, and her sole skill could not be put to use in this age, how would she survive—as a woman?

Marry and bear children? Merely the thought of it suffocated Xu Chengyue.

The only place where women might find work in this era was likely the imperial palace, but gaining entry was no easy feat.

Becoming a nun or a Taoist priestess was another option—but she knew well that neither path was free; money was required even for such a life. Wherever there are people, there is strife; temples were hardly peaceful sanctuaries.

“Miss, come sit and have some tea,” Qiulu said, carrying a freshly brewed pot.

This tea differed from the usual—it contained no oil, salt, or spices. Since recovering from her illness, Miss had taken a dislike to her former tea.

Seeing the young lady’s distress, Qiulu was at a loss for words, so she simply urged her to take a break with a cup of tea.

Just then, the courtyard gate was suddenly knocked upon, producing a series of urgent sounds. The visitor seemed anxious.

It was Lü Hongzhuo.

Though he knew Xu Chengyue’s residence, he had never visited before. Knowing she lived alone with two maids, he had avoided coming alone to prevent suspicion.

But now, he could no longer hold back. His face was alight with joy, utterly abandoning his usual refined demeanor. His mouth stretched into a wide grin, revealing a row of shining white teeth.

Upon seeing Xu Chengyue, he eagerly exclaimed, “Madam Xu, our book has sold tremendously! The printed copies of the second volume are already sold out.”

This success had taken him by surprise. Though confident in the book, he had been unsure how readers would respond initially, so he had printed only a small batch—about half the number of the first volume sent out.

Yet, in just one afternoon, the books were gone.

Xu Chengyue herself had not expected such enthusiastic feedback.

In that moment, she could hardly contain her joy.

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To her, this not only symbolized financial gain but also represented a skill with which she had secured a foothold in this era.

Hastily, she opened the door wide, making way and inviting, “Mr. Lü, please come in and have some tea.”

Lü Hongzhuo was taken aback by her invitation and paused briefly before waving his hands, saying, “Madam Xu, I’d better not come in. It wouldn’t look good if the neighbors saw me.”

There were many neighbors close by, tightly knit in this area. Any stir or noise was bound to be overheard.

Though no one intended to spy, with entertainment scarce in ancient times, curiosity often got the better of folks during their idle moments.

Though the street appeared empty, many could well be listening from behind their doors.

If he entered now, gossip would surely spread by tomorrow.

Though Xu Chengyue had nothing to hide, customs were different back then, and she respected Lü Hongzhuo’s wishes.

At the Shan Hai Bookstore, the shopkeeper was quite puzzled.

At midday, when the city drums sounded, he opened his shop, and shortly after, customers began to arrive.

They were not buying serious literature but that very book he had once scorned as a corrupting influence leading his son astray.

Some buyers were familiar faces who had previously been disdainful, barely able to glance at the book without feeling it sullied their eyes.

Yet today, disregarding their former disdain, they came to buy it—albeit furtively. Upon receiving the book and paying, they would quickly flee, looking as if engaged in some illicit transaction, provoking suspicion among onlookers.

One such person was Jian Hang.

Noticing the shopkeeper’s gaze, he coughed uneasily and said, “Shopkeeper, one copy of this book, please.”

He was even embarrassed to mention its title.

The shopkeeper mechanically repeated the motions he had performed countless times that day, taking the money for the book.

Jian Hang quickly slipped away, fearing he might run into classmates also buying the book. If they discovered his purchase, he would be the subject of ridicule.

That girl really had caused him trouble.

He fled, but the shopkeeper could not; he mechanically continued his task, his hand showing a weariness born of despair.

Fortunately, the second volume had been printed in small quantities and sold out quickly.

What followed was a steady stream of inquiries about when restocks would arrive.

The shopkeeper continued to reply mechanically, “Tomorrow, tomorrow it will be here.”

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At last, closing time arrived. Never before had the shopkeeper felt such joy in shutting the doors.

After closing, he retrieved a secretly hidden copy of the book from behind the counter, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized it carefully.

Was this book truly that captivating?

Jian Hang rode home and went straight to his study to review the lessons taught by his tutor that day.

Yet his mind wandered, his gaze repeatedly drifting to the book he had purchased.

What would the later chapters contain? If they included inappropriate content, might they corrupt his sister?

But he could not refuse to give it to her. If she pestered him again, it would be troublesome.

He resolved to act as a protective older brother, screening the book first. If there was anything harmful or improper that might spoil a young lady’s mind, he would deal with it personally.

Confident in his role, he opened the book and began reading.

In it, Father Chu solemnly arranged a marriage for Chu Muqing, urging her to prepare for wedlock and avoid causing trouble.

Marriage had long been a matter decided by parents and matchmakers, leaving little room for Chu Muqing to resist.

Yet Jian Hang thought that given Chu Muqing’s background, resistance was not impossible.

Still, Chu Muqing agreed.

Jian Hang frowned, sensing complications beneath the surface.

At that moment, Chu Muxue arrived late.

She was clever and spoke gently, calling Chu Muqing “elder sister.”

Clearly not one to be underestimated, she claimed that the Mingyu Pavilion where Chu Muqing had previously lived had become her long-time residence, so her sister should choose another courtyard. Such a generous sister would surely not contest this.

The Mingyu Pavilion had once been Chu Muqing’s mother’s, lovingly tended for her daughter during childhood, every plant and tree infused with maternal affection.

Yet now, it was occupied by Chu Muxue.

When young, Chu Muqing had no power to resist, but now, with strength and resolve, she would not endure this quietly.

Threatening to refuse marriage to Prince Li, she forced Chu Muxue to relinquish the Mingyu Pavilion.

Jian Hang furrowed his brow. Chu Muxue seemed deeply invested in her sister’s marriage.