On the morning after the copyright regulations were officially promulgated, the streets and alleys of Beijing were still filled with the atmosphere of daily life. However, a carefully planned conspiracy, like an undercurrent, quietly surged deep within the cultural market.

Suddenly, a flood of inferior copies of "The Oil Seller" flooded the market. These books were crudely made, with paper so rough it felt like sandpaper, cutting and emitting a pungent odor. The handwriting was illegible, riddled with typos, making reading a dreary experience. Yet, infuriatingly, these inferior copies boasted "Jinyun Bookstore Authentic Edition" on their covers, a blatant challenge and malicious defamation of Jinyun Bookstore's reputation.

Shopkeeper Qian, a man with a history of ill intentions, was now leading a group of his men, hawking his wares recklessly in front of the Jinyun Bookstore. His portly figure stood out in the crowd, and his face wore a smug expression, as if he were announcing a triumphant victory.

"Look! Look! Everyone! Su Jinli, out of greed for money, has printed this kind of rubbish to fool you all!" Shopkeeper Qian yelled at the top of his lungs, waving a low-quality copy of "The Oil Seller" in his hand, trying to attract the attention of passersby and incite their dissatisfaction with Jinyun Bookstore. His voice was sharp and piercing, like the cry of a night owl, echoing at the bookstore entrance and drawing the attention of passers-by.

Young Marquis Su was helping to sort books inside the bookstore when he heard the shouting outside, his face flushing with anger. He was a straightforward man who hated to see anyone bullying his sister and Jinyun Bookstore. He was about to rush out and confront Manager Qian, regardless of the consequences. However, he had only taken a few steps when Su Jinli firmly grabbed him.

"Brother, calm down and watch the show." Su Jinli's voice was steady and calm, her eyes revealing a confident, well-planned decision. She knew that acting impulsively at this moment would only play into Shopkeeper Qian's trap and make the situation worse. She gently patted Young Marquis Su's shoulder, signaling him to be patient. Then, turning to Lingge, she said, "Lingge, quickly go and get Boss Wang, and bring some of our bookstore's authentic books." Lingge obeyed and, like a swift shadow, vanished through the bookstore's doors.

Not long after, Boss Wang arrived breathlessly at Jinyun Bookstore. He was a renowned expert in paper and ink in Beijing, intimately familiar with the properties of various types of paper and ink. Upon entering, he was immediately struck by the low-quality books laid out on the table. Boss Wang frowned, gently picked up a book, examined it carefully, and then shook his head in frustration.

"This paper is the worst mulberry paper in Jiangnan. This kind of paper is originally loose in texture and has very poor toughness. It is not suitable for printing books at all. Moreover, the ink used is the cheapest smoke ink, which is not only dull in color, but also very easy to fade." Boss Wang said as he handed the book in his hand to Su Jinli, his eyes full of regret and indignation.

Su Jinli nodded slightly, a plan already in mind. She took a deep breath and walked slowly and calmly to Shopkeeper Qian. Her expression was calm, her eyes were sharp, and she stared directly at Shopkeeper Qian. Then she reached out and picked up a poorly made book.

"Shopkeeper Qian, you printed this book, didn't you?" Su Jinli's voice was soft, but it hit Shopkeeper Qian's heart like a hammer. Her eyes held an undeniable aura, as if she had already grasped solid evidence.

"Nonsense!" Shopkeeper Qian was shocked, but he still pretended to be calm and denied it. He knew that if he admitted it, he would face serious consequences, so he could only pretend to be stubborn and try to get away with it.

"Really?" Su Jinli's lips curled up slightly, revealing a hint of sneer. She slowly opened the book in her hands, pointed to a speck of ink on the title page, and said slowly, "I recognize this kind of smoke ink. Last month, you bought twenty pounds of it at the Chengxi Ink Shop. The owner of the shop mentioned it to me, saying that a wealthy person suddenly bought so much cheap smoke ink. I was surprised at the time, but now it seems you used it to print such low-quality books. And this paper..." Su Jinli gently touched the paper, a hint of disdain in her eyes. "The owner of 'Waste Paper Studio' in Jiangnan told me that someone bought a large batch of paper in bulk a few days ago. The texture of this paper is so special, who else would use it to print books besides you?"

Every word Su Jinli said was like a sharp arrow, accurately hitting Shopkeeper Qian's vital points. Shopkeeper Qian's face instantly turned as pale as paper, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He opened his mouth, wanting to continue to argue, but found that his throat seemed to be choked by something, and he couldn't say a word.

Just then, a steady, powerful sound of footsteps could be heard. Everyone turned to look and saw Jiang Yan, dressed in official uniform and with a dignified expression, striding towards them with a group of yamen runners. Jiang Yan's gaze, sharp as an eagle's, fell directly on Manager Qian.

"Manager Qian, the Dali Temple invites you for tea to discuss market monopoly and trademark counterfeiting." Jiang Yan's voice was cold and serious, like a cold winter wind, chilling one to the bone. He knew that Manager Qian's actions had seriously disrupted market order and damaged the reputation of Jinyun Bookstore, and he must be severely punished.

When Shopkeeper Qian heard Jiang Yan's words, his legs gave way and he nearly collapsed. He was filled with regret. He had thought his plan was flawless and would completely destroy Jinyun Bookstore, but he hadn't expected Su Jinli and Jiang Yan to be so shrewd and see through his plot so quickly. He knew he was doomed this time.

The yamen runners advanced like wolves and tigers, surrounding Shopkeeper Qian and his men. Under escort, Shopkeeper Qian left the Jinyun Bookstore dejectedly. His eyes were filled with despair and resignation, while passersby cast contemptuous glances at him.

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