Chapter Eight: The Storybook Shop

He, on the contrary, nodded calmly.

"Xiuxiu, there's no need to be afraid. This time, the Bai family will have to swallow their loss in silence."

What?

Xu Xiuxiu was indeed confused. In truth, if the Bai family investigated, they would discover that all of this had been orchestrated by Han Qing. But they could no longer use the excuse of unpaid silver to make trouble. Besides, all the neighbors had witnessed what happened. Could the Bai family really go back on their word?

As for Miss Zhilian, she now came by every few days to check on the progress of the manuscript. But Han Qing felt it was time to stop.

"No need to keep selling," he said.

"What? Have you lost your mind?" Zhilian stared at him in bewilderment. He was the one who had suggested the partnership, and now that things were just getting started, he wanted to back out?

"The profit from each storybook is only a few copper coins, and demand hasn't increased. Clearly, this method isn't working," Han Qing said slowly.

Zhilian was confused for a moment but soon understood.

"And if we suddenly stop at the climax of the story, it will inevitably increase demand and stimulate sales."

So that was it! Miss Zhilian fully grasped his meaning. Yet she was puzzled. Wasn't Han Qing just a scholar? How could he know so much about business?

"There's another matter. Madam Li at Drunken Flower Pavilion has been watching us girls closely lately. We can't go on promoting so openly..."

Oh? Then why not just open a small shop specifically for selling storybooks? But Han Qing shouldn't be the one to run it. They needed to find the right person.

He thought for a moment—Er Zhuang was just the idle sort they needed.

"Are you interested in investing to run a storybook shop?" he asked abruptly, choosing not to address Zhilian's earlier problem.

"Me? Sir, you've already favored me, and I've earned quite a bit of silver. To ask for more would just be greedy," she replied, shaking her head quickly.

"It's not for nothing. You'd need to put up twenty percent of the capital."

She hesitated. She trusted the man before her, but to suddenly take out nearly twenty taels of silver made her pause. What if it didn't make money? Wouldn't it all be for nothing?

"This could solve your current predicament. With development and scale, you might even gain the upper hand in Drunken Flower Pavilion in the future!"

Hearing this, Zhilian made up her mind and agreed.

Han Qing nodded in satisfaction and immediately had Er Zhuang look for a suitable shop near the east of the city. Within a day, everything was arranged.

The storybook shop opened smoothly, but it soon caught the Bai family's attention. When the second young master of the Bai family, a good-for-nothing, learned that Han Qing was profiting from this, he naturally brought some servants to cause trouble.

But all of this was already within Han Qing's calculations. It was another form of marketing.

"Who allowed you to open a shop like this? Did you register it with the magistrate?" The trouble was obvious.

Han Qing had already inquired about the local customs and rules. There were, in fact, no such storybook shops yet. Most people considered these books vulgar and didn't sell them openly. He was, in effect, setting a precedent.

"But our dynasty hasn't forbidden such shops, has it?" This was a matter without clear rules. Were they going to smash things by force? He would not allow them to succeed.

"Well, the old master told me to keep a close eye on you!" the Bai family's second young master spat. The old master cared about appearances—last time, the commotion had cost the Bai family their reputation for wisdom.

"We have all the necessary official documents here. If the Bai family comes to cause trouble again without reason, I, Han Qing, will not stand idly by," Han Qing said impassively, intentionally provoking them.

"You, Da Wu, bring the tools!" the second young master shouted.

But more and more people were gathering to watch. They had intended to smash the shop, but now the situation was awkward.

"Fellow villagers, please judge for yourselves. I'm merely a poor scholar. I paid back what I owed the Bai family, yet they were dissatisfied with the amount and have held a grudge ever since..."

Half-truth, half-fiction—gossip like this was sure to draw the crowd's attention.

The scene grew rowdier. The Bai family's second young master was furious, but some of his more sensible servants pulled him back.

"Young master, the old master told us not to make a scene. If this gets out, we'll be punished again."

Helpless, he shouted, "Han Qing, you're just a penniless scholar—just wait!"

With that, he left in a hurry with his servants.

But the intended effect had already been achieved.

"Everyone, you can see for yourselves why the Bai family wants to bully us. Perhaps it's because our storybooks are just too captivating, so they want to take over!"

"Indeed, I heard my son bought a few volumes last time, and even I, who rarely reads, became interested," said one person.

"Iron Ox, you must be boasting—you can barely recognize a few characters, how could you understand anything?"

The villagers' interest was piqued, creating an excellent atmosphere for the shop's opening.

But this also caught Miss Zhilian's attention.

"Weren't you saying these stories would only attract a few of the city's idle young men? Can ordinary people really be our customers?"

"A wise man always has a plan. How can a shop survive with only one kind of customer?" Han Qing replied with a slight smile, offering no further explanation.

In a few days, the results would be clear.

Recently, Han Qing had been bringing home silver several times, and although Xu Xiuxiu didn't ask, his mother was not a foolish woman. That evening, she called him to the main house.

"My son, tell me the truth—have you done something improper?" his mother asked anxiously. Earning dozens of taels in a day was simply unbelievable.

"Mother, I was unfilial before and burdened the family. But now I've come to understand a few things, and I know I should share the family's responsibilities," he said softly.

"Be honest with me—are you up to no good?" his mother asked again, still uncertain.

"I am but a scholar. At best, I can read and write a little. Recently, I've earned a bit of income by selling a few pieces of calligraphy, that's all."

So that's what it was! His mother nodded, her face full of relief and pride. She immediately lit incense for the ancestors in the main hall, murmuring prayers under her breath.

Truly, the ancestors are blessing my son!