On the first day of serialization, a biting cold wind whistled through every corner of the capital like a sharp blade. The snowflakes, like shattered jade, fell densely on the ancient bluestone slabs of the capital, making a crisp and dense sound. However, the icy snow and biting cold did nothing to disperse the dark and surging crowd in front of Jinyun Bookstore.
Su Jinli gently lifted the bookstore's cotton curtain, and instantly, a gust of cold air, mingled with the clamor of voices, hit her face. She looked up and saw a long line, like a winding dragon, starting from the tall memorial archway on Literary Street, winding through three storefronts before turning directly into the corner of the adjacent silk shop. The sheer size of the line was so alarming that it squeezed the shop's employees, who were busy unloading winter goods, causing them to shout and curse, their curses standing out against the clamor.
"Oh my God..." Lingge held the hand warmer tightly, a thin layer of frost already forming on her eyelashes. She widened her eyes in surprise and said to Su Jinli, "Miss, look, this is really a strange scene. The lady in mink fur and the peddler who was patching the clothes are squeezed together like a pile of cabbages!"
Su Jinli wrapped herself tightly in her soft fox fur coat and slowly stepped across the threshold, peering out. The snowy light cast a faint pale hue on everyone's faces, yet it couldn't obscure the fiery eagerness in their eyes. The embroiderer in a dark blue bodice stood on tiptoe, straining to peer into the bookstore, a cloth bag clutched tightly to her bosom, as if it held a priceless treasure. A noblewoman in an exquisite veil, supported carefully by a maid, her fingers, clad in gold and jade armor, tapped impatiently on the sedan chair poles, a clacking sound that seemed to vent her inner anxiety. And the most eye-catching figure was the bearded man, his cotton jacket covered in snowflakes, the copper coins clutched tightly in his hand, rubbing against his sleeves until they seemed to be burning.
"Did you see that?" Su Jinli leaned slightly to the side and gently nudged Jiang Yan with her elbow. The fur collar of her fox fur coat brushed the back of his hand. "My readers, both high and low, are looking forward to this story."
Jiang Yan was concentrating on wiping his glasses with a handkerchief, the breath still lingering on the lenses. He raised his chin slightly, his gaze piercing as he pointed at the gray-clad man in the corner pretending to flip through the Hundred Family Names. He said softly, "Well, but there's also the spy sent by Shopkeeper Qian. Look at that guy, his fingers are shaking so badly, it's obvious he's not learning to read, he's just pretending."
Su Jinli's lips curled up slightly as she sneered. Then, turning around, she fiercely kicked the wooden box off the counter. With a clatter, the pages of the newly printed first chapter of "The Oil Seller" scattered, their rich scent of ink instantly filling the air. The edges of the rice paper still carried the warmth of last night's printing. "Let's begin," she said, slamming the abacus onto the table. The crisp sound of the beads colliding startled a swallow perched on the beams.
In an instant, like a tide, copper coins, each worth one tael of silver, poured toward the counter. The bearded man yelled, "I'll go first," and pushed forward recklessly. His coarse sleeve accidentally knocked over the inkstone on the table, sending thick ink splattering, landing squarely on the hem of the noblewoman's gorgeous gilded skirt.
"Poor bastard!" The noblewoman wearing a red gold headband screamed. She stamped her feet in anger, and the pearl hairpin on her head shook violently with her movements, the glittering light dazzling people's eyes. "I'll give you ten taels. Show me first!"
"Don't rush!" Young Marquis Su, now majestically carrying a toy sword, held it across the counter. The bright red silk tassel fluttered in the breeze, gently sweeping across the mountain of copper coins. He deliberately raised his voice, shouting, "Follow the order. My sister said, anyone who causes trouble will...have their name written into the black ledger!" The young man emphasized the words "black ledger" with great emphasis. His serious expression frightened the patched-up servant so much that he quickly pocketed the money, refusing to make another move.
The spy in the corner watched all this, stunned to the point of nearly melting the wax ball in his arms. Meanwhile, Shopkeeper Qian was leisurely sipping ginseng soup in his own bookstore. When he received the news from the spy, he spat the soup in his mouth all over the face of the servant who had come to report it.
"One chapter for one tael?!" Shopkeeper Qian's face flushed with anger. He stood up abruptly, pointing out the window with trembling fingers, his beard trembling with anger. "Why didn't she just rob her? Even street robbery wouldn't be this cruel!"
The ginseng soup spilled onto the account book, its ink stains smearing like an abstract painting, reminiscent of the crowds in front of Jinyun Bookstore. At this moment, Su Jinli was squatting behind the counter, concentrating on counting money. The small mountain of copper coins exuded a unique metallic luster, casting a faint glow on her cheeks. Jiang Yan silently walked over to her and handed her the abacus. His fingertips inadvertently brushed against her earlobe, which was slightly red from the cold, and he whispered, "Madam, as of now, 372 taels have been credited."
"Got it, Mr. Accountant." Su Jinli didn't even look up. She just reached out and grabbed two handfuls of copper coins and stuffed them into Jiang Yan's hands. "This is a reward. Go buy some sugar-roasted chestnuts and give them to the people queuing at the door—don't let anyone get frozen and miss out on making money."
Jiang Yan looked at the copper coin in his hand and couldn't help but laugh, but he still walked out with the copper coin in his pocket. Snowflakes fell and hit his gorgeous brocade robe, but the warmth transmitted by the copper coin in his palm made him feel extremely warm.
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