Uncle Fu was somewhat surprised, looking at the patched-up group.

Wasn't he supposed to be a down-on-his-luck scholar?

To dispel doubts.

He chuckled and said, "I wonder if you could let me take a look at the rest of the manuscript, younger brother?"

Chen Xian nodded and took out the rest of the story.

Uncle Fu nodded, his interest piqued by the bolded title—"A Chinese Ghost Story".

In late May, the weather was hot, and the stray dog ​​at my feet was panting with its tongue hanging out, lying lazily under the shade.

A gust of wind blew by, dispelling the restlessness in everyone's hearts.

Uncle Fu reads extremely fast, turning a page in a short while.

They quickly became engrossed in it.

"My lord, the right and wrong of the court is not something we military men can decide. Usually, right and wrong are not as clear as they seem."

"I was misled by evil spirits and killed a loyal minister. Today, to atone for my sins, if I don't go to hell, who will?"

As night fell, Commander Zuo, wielding a knife in one hand, charged forward fearlessly, crouching low to attack.

It took Uncle Fu a long time to come out of the story.

"Excellent article. Although it is written in plain language, it does not hinder the smoothness and conciseness of the story. May I ask your name, brother?"

"Chen Xian".

Uncle Fu remained calm and said frankly, "I am an honest man. I do business entirely based on sincerity. Brother Chen, I think your fantasy story could easily become famous in Daxing Town or even the entire Yingzhou Prefecture."

"In short, I want this story. How about 100 coins per thousand words?"

Upon hearing this, the Chen family was utterly astonished.

Chen Erzhu, in particular, knew that his father had been writing a storybook recently, and it was probably quite good, otherwise the old man wouldn't have come looking for him.

Having just asked a passerby, he now knows that top-tier Confucian scholars can earn a hundred coins. This... how could it not make one's heart pound?

His every move was at its peak.

Chen Dazhu silently calculated that his father was indeed amazing, writing a thousand words a day.

It's much better than doing business.

Li Niang: Writing a thousand of these would really strain my wrists. I'm afraid this isn't a sustainable way to make a living.

Shuangshuang: Husband, you're amazing! If you could really make money like this, wouldn't we be able to eat meat every day?

Uncle Fu was a little apprehensive, but the other short stories were also quite good.

I just don't know if this guy can accept it.

Judging from Chunsheng's tone, this person is very arrogant.

When talking to people, get straight to the point; if things don't go well, retreat immediately.

These are the people who are the hardest to negotiate a price with; you never know where their bottom line is.

Moreover, he had already made it very obvious that it was at a great disadvantage to himself.

Chen Xian calmly said, "Uncle Fu, how about this? I only want the basic price of ten coins per thousand words, and for every book I sell, I'll take one-tenth of the selling price, how about that?"

Uncle Fu immediately shook his head and said helplessly, "Brother Chen, it's not appropriate. The bookstore also has to provide paper, ink, proofreading, labor, transportation, and sales costs, while your commission is too high. It's not suitable."

Chen Xian sighed, cupped his hands, and said, "In that case, we'll have to find another company to cooperate with."

I simply got up and left.

Uncle Fu was afraid of people like this: decisive in speech and action, who would say no to cooperation and then mean it.

You're not a farmer, are you? Your clothes are all patched up. Don't you need money?

Uncle Fu said gently, "Very well, brother, you are an honest man. I need to consult my young master about this matter; I cannot make the decision myself."

Then, Uncle Fu took out his money bag. "There are five fantasy stories here. I'll take them all, brother. How about 150 coins per thousand words?"

After writing about ten thousand words, Chen Xian received one tael of silver.

He nodded and smiled, saying, "It's a pleasure working with you."

Uncle Fu suddenly asked, "I wonder where Brother Chen lives? If I get any news, I will definitely pay him a visit."

"Qingxia Village".

He crumpled the paper again, then suddenly asked, "I wonder how long you've been studying, brother?"

In his view, this was another old Confucian scholar who had no hope of passing the imperial examinations and had no choice but to become a farmer.

He must be an old Confucian scholar who has studied diligently through the night for many years.

It would take at least a decade or more of arduous study.

Chen Xian: "A year and a half."

Uncle Fu was shocked for a whole year. Putting aside the other short stories, just take the story of the female ghost. The philosophical sentences contained in it are hard to summarize without years of hard study.

Many people in this world are more vicious than ghosts when they harm others.

I'm afraid of ghosts, but they don't hurt me; I'm not afraid of people, but people hurt me and leave me covered in wounds.

With their mouths agape and seeing Chen Xian's serious expression, the Chen family members nodded in agreement.

As if hearing such absurd words, Uncle Fu became withdrawn.

I also went to school for a few years back then.

Seeing that the red paper had faded again, he guessed that Chen Xian had been worn down by life. "Brother Chen, please wait a moment. I have something to give you."

Before long, he returned, carrying a brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

He smiled calmly and said, "Brother, you have nothing better to do than to imitate the refined tastes of scholars and doodle in your spare time. I'm giving you this worn-out brush and ink; I hope you won't find it offensive."

Consider this my friend's apology for his disrespect.

"I hope my brother can create more wonderful stories."

Chen Xian looked at the almost brand-new calligraphy brush and smiled, "Thank you."

It must be said that this man named Uncle Fu is very good at dealing with people.

Uncle Fu then casually said, "That Chunsheng is my distant nephew. This kind of thing has happened many times before. I might as well let him go back to farming this time and stop making a fool of himself here."

The Chen family then went to the grain store and bought more than ten kilograms of flour and more than ten kilograms of rice.

I bought a big barrel of oil.

After looking at the two women's hair, I went to the fabric shop.

I bought two feet of cloth for twenty coins.

Chen Xian: "Li Niang, you two make your own hats to cover up temporarily."

Li Niang waved her hand: "No, cloth is too expensive. People in the village also have short hair. They're not that fussy."

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