Lead-gray clouds weighed heavily on the rooftops of the capital, seemingly suffocating the bustling metropolis. Shopkeeper Qian, his face sullen, stood at the door of his own bookstore, tightly clutching a crudely made, pirated copy of "The Oil Seller." His fingertips pressed so hard he almost pierced through the thin mulberry paper, his eyes filled with envy and resentment. For the past three days, he had watched the bustling traffic and bustle of Jinyun Bookstore, while his own bookstore sat deserted and empty. Finally, his resentment, unable to be contained, erupted like a volcano.
At that moment, two servants were carrying a wooden sign with the words "Three coins and one seal" written on it, parading through the streets. The sign was still stained with the glue from last night, and it looked particularly glaring in the dim sky.
"Come and see!" Shopkeeper Qian shouted at the top of his voice. The fox fur collar of his once neat cotton robe was now tilted to one side, making him look disheveled. "The original is too expensive at one ounce. Ours is three coins a chapter. The writing is clear and the ink is fragrant!" However, a few passing servants peeked in curiously. As soon as they picked up the book, they were choked by the pungent smell and coughed uncontrollably. The smell of cheap tobacco and ink mixed with the odor of moldy paper was almost blinding.
Meanwhile, inside Jinyun Bookstore, Su Jinli, intently tweezing the pages of a pirated book, gently shook them against the light filtering through the window. The pages were covered in dense grass scraps, the ink smeared with water, blurry and indistinct. The word "Oiran" was a blur, unreadable. Looking at this unsightly pirated book, she suddenly burst into laughter. The sound of it was so clear and resounding that it startled Jiang Yan, who was concentrating on his calculations, so much so that his hands trembled violently, sending the abacus beads tumbling across the table.
"Madam, what are you laughing at?" Jiang Yan quickly pushed up his glasses. There were still some ink spots on the lenses that he accidentally got there when he was checking the accounts this morning.
"Shopkeeper Xiao Qian has run out of tricks." Su Jinli slammed the pirated book in her hand on the table, causing ripples to form in the ink in the inkstone. "Go, call all the authors over and set up an eight-person table in the backyard. We'll have hot pot and a meeting tonight."
As dusk drifted across the bookshop's eaves like a veil, the authors gathered around the copper hot pot, rubbing their hands to warm themselves as they waited for the meeting to begin. A bearded man sniffed, his gaze fixed on the mutton rolls tumbling in the copper pot. The rolls tumbled up and down in the scalding water like joyful spirits.
"Miss Su, the pirated books of Shopkeeper Qian are like straw paper. We shouldn't bother with him..." the bearded man said in a muffled voice.
"No." Su Jinli picked up a piece of frozen tofu and gently rolled it in the seasoning bowl, coating it thoroughly with the fragrant sauce. "If you break the rules, anyone can come and step on you from now on." As she spoke, she put down her chopsticks and picked up the chalk with her sesame-soaked fingers. She began to draw circles on the blackboard, chalk dust falling onto the bluestone. "Starting tomorrow, there will be a puzzle at the end of each chapter. Only those who answer it correctly can buy the next chapter."
"Riddle... puzzle? How can a rough guy like me make riddles!" When the bearded man heard this, the chopsticks in his hand fell into the pot with a "clang", his face full of panic and helplessness.
"I just want to know what color the embroidered shoes for the courtesan you wrote should be." Su Jinli said, putting the wolf-hair brush into his hand. There were small words engraved on the brush holder: "For Jiang Yan Only." "Write now, and let Jiang Yan polish it after you're done."
Jiang Yan was busy distributing wine glasses to everyone at this time. Upon hearing this, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and said with a hint of sarcasm: "Madam, I, the accountant, also have to work part-time as a puzzle officer?"
"Hmm." Su Jinli responded playfully, then scooped a spoonful of sesame paste and gently spread it on the back of Jiang Yan's hand. "If you answer correctly, I'll pay half the price, and if you answer incorrectly, I'll pay the full price. I'll make money and buy you a new abacus."
The authors burst into laughter upon hearing this. The bearded man, blushing, began to scribble on the rice paper. Outside the window, fine snowflakes began to drift, like petals scattered by a fairy. The wintersweets in the bookstore's backyard were in full bloom, their subtle fragrance blending with the steaming hot pot, warming the cold winter night with a sense of warmth and comfort.
The next morning, snowflakes rustled against the bookstore's door like sand, creating a unique morning melody. Su Jinli opened the window early and saw the line in front of the bookstore was more than three times longer than the day before. The women in mink coats and the patchwork peddlers, each clutching pirated copies, were scratching their heads over the last page, their faces etched with confusion.
A bearded man stood on a makeshift wooden platform, holding up a newly written chapter. His beard was adorned with shimmering ice crystals, gleaming in the morning light. He shouted at the top of his voice, "Listen up! The official second chapter is here—want to know the color of the courtesan's embroidered shoes? Buy the official copy first, and answer the riddle correctly before you can read!"
"What riddle?" the bearded man's wife shouted in the crowd.
"Listen loudly!" Jiang Yan, dressed in casual clothes, walked calmly onto the stage, holding a piece of rice paper in his hand. "In yesterday's chapter, when the oil seller was delivering oil to the courtesan, what was hanging on his shoulder pole?"
The moment these words were spoken, the crowd erupted in excitement. Those who had bought pirated copies looked at each other in bewilderment, because the crudely made copies didn't even mention what was hanging on the pole. Seeing this, the bearded man proudly waved the manuscript in his hand and shouted, "It's not in the pirated books, right? Want to know? Come buy the genuine ones! One tael of silver per chapter, and half price for correct answers!"
Shopkeeper Qian, hiding in a corner teahouse, watched his bookshop, deserted to the point where even rats could run free, his face livid with rage. He crumpled the pirated book in his hands and viciously shoved it into the charcoal basin. Flames shot up, instantly burning the word "Oiran" to ash. The accountant beside him muttered, "Shopkeeper, no one's buying our three-cent copies..."
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