She had thought of every possible place to stick it, but once she got into the mood to practice, she didn't want to stop.

Now is a perfect opportunity to earn money while practicing calligraphy.

It's not a bad way to pass the time.

In her eyes, a penny was neither here nor there.

But money lasts longer in this era.

One cent could buy four pencils at the supply and marketing cooperative, a bowl of wontons at a state-run restaurant, and a handful of peanuts or a bag of popcorn if you wanted a snack.

Wen Qinghe readily agreed.

Yang Guihua learned that Wen Qinghe had this intention.

She quickly seized the opportunity and went to the village to promote her wares.

Before they could even utter their prepared remarks, everyone glanced at the couplets on Yang Guihua's door.

The handwriting was so pleasing to the eye that it made the storefront look much brighter.

Without Yang Guihua saying much, everyone was already tempted.

These couplets always need to be put up; everyone wants a fresh look for their doorstep.

As soon as some people were tempted, they immediately went to Wen Qinghe to write couplets.

Others saw this and dared not delay, fearing that if they were too late, someone else would get there first.

They all went home to get money and red paper, and went to knock on Yan Xiao's door.

So, for the next three days...

The courtyard at the foot of the mountain was bustling with people.

On the first day, Wen Qinghe wrote thirty poems in one go.

If Yan Xiao hadn't noticed that it had been going on for too long and felt sorry for his wife, and hadn't immediately seen her rubbing her wrists from time to time, he would have stopped her in time.

Wen Qinghe might write until dark and still not be willing to stop to eat.

When Yan Xiao finally had some free time in the evening, he saw the little girl's swollen and red palms, and his face immediately darkened.

While tenderly massaging the little girl's wrists, he also brought her some spring water stored in his space to soak her hands.

He said with a mix of pity and frustration, "I'm not writing tomorrow! We don't need three yuan a day."

After soaking in the spring water, Wen Qinghe's hands had fully recovered, and her wrists were no longer sore.

Thinking that many of the people who came today haven't written yet,

She pouted slightly, "That won't do! Besides, I think these couplets are quite interesting~"

Seeing that he couldn't persuade her otherwise, Yan Xiao sighed helplessly.

However, the next day he directly told the people who came to write couplets that his wife was in poor health and could not take it, so he could only write twenty couplets a day.

Even so, many people still came in the following days.

This continued until New Year's Eve.