On the way back, Chen Xian met with Old Man Li by the roadside to arrange a time.
Rainforest Study.
Chen Xian greeted his staff from outside.
"Is the shopkeeper here? I'm coming to find him."
The shopkeeper looked at the Chen family members, who were dressed in coarse, patched clothes.
He asked疑惑地问道, "Uncle, is something the matter?"
Chen Xian: "I wrote Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, and I'm here to submit the manuscript."
The man was somewhat surprised; in his memory, there was no writer of vernacular stories like this.
In the past, he would have definitely scolded him.
The shop was noisy, with everyone discussing how great Mr. Liaozhai was, how beautiful A Chinese Ghost Story was, and so on.
The waiter didn't hear what Chen Xian said very clearly.
He still honestly asked someone to call the shopkeeper.
It's just because of that Chun Sheng guy from a few days ago, who looked down on people and almost ruined a good manuscript. The shopkeeper kicked him out immediately afterward.
This serves as a warning to the workers.
They very respectfully led the Chen family to their guest rooms.
I heard that the author of Liaozhai was dressed in coarse cloth. He was looked down upon by the Chun Sheng brothers, but they didn't bother to pay him any attention. They simply threw down their manuscript and left.
Uncle Fu was harnessing the carriage in the backyard, while Sui and Feng were writing manuscripts.
Upon hearing the waiter's report, Uncle Fu almost jumped up and rushed to the guest room.
Sui and Feng exchanged a glance and asked in confusion, "Uncle Fu is in such a hurry, it can't be that Mr. Liaozhai has come, can it?"
The two men asked the waiter in perfect unison, "Is the visitor Mr. Liaozhai?"
Waiter: "I don't know, he was dressed in coarse cloth."
He sighed as the wind carried him away.
"In my impression, the author of Liaozhai must have been a learned scholar who was weary of officialdom, experienced all aspects of life, and understood human nature. Otherwise, he could not have written such vivid and passionate words."
Shuiyunjian nodded as well.
"The author of Liaozhai must be permeated with a scholarly air from beginning to end, wearing a white robe, with gray hair and eyes like bright candles, captivating the soul."
The two looked at each other and smiled.
Great minds think alike.
It's not their fault; throughout history, learning to read and write has been an extremely expensive endeavor.
Farmers spend their days in the fields, and their annual income is barely enough to make ends meet. They have no extra money to buy writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.
With his abundant energy was wasted on the weeds in the field, he had no extra energy to hold a brush, lay out paper, or grind ink.
The waiter scratched his head. "Gentlemen, why are you saying things I don't understand?"
I recognize every single word, but I still can't understand it when they're put together.
In the guest room.
When Uncle Fu saw Chen Xian for the second time, he felt as if he had been in another world.
At first, it was amazing; now, it's more like the admiration of a passerby who has finally met a major internet celebrity.
It took Uncle Fu a long time to compose himself. He looked at the busy and exhausted Chen family members and asked in confusion, "Brother Chen, where did you come from?"
Chen Xian: "Isn't this a large group of people gathered on the other side of the city wall, selling food and making a living?"
Uncle Fu looked as if he had heard something terrible.
You're so foolish, Brother Chen.
With your talent and learning, you could easily earn at least a hundred coins a day by just scribbling a few lines, which is much better than selling food.
Uncle Fu said with heartache, "It seems that Brother Chen is indeed having a hard time. Why don't you come and work at Rainforest Study? You'll be guaranteed at least fifty coins a day. No, I'll pay Brother Chen a hundred coins a day."
The Chen family looked on in astonishment. Could such a good thing really exist?
Chen Xian thought about it seriously, "My family business is just starting out, and it requires the whole family to work together. I'm sorry."
Erzhuzi whispered, "Dad, you can't slack off here anymore. My aunt and I will take care of the business."
Chen Xian, in a high-pitched voice, whispered, "Could you lower your voice a little more..."
Uncle Fu chuckled. This family is really interesting.
Perhaps only someone like that could write such interesting stories.
Chen Xian took out a storybook and handed it over.
Uncle Fu opened it carefully.
He casually asked, "Wow, that was fast! How long did it take you to finish, Brother Chen?"
Chen Xian: "I wrote it all in one go when I got up this morning."
Uncle Fu: "Huh?"
Is this really necessary?
His tone was somewhat uncertain, and he asked doubtfully, "Isn't it said that good scripts need to be meticulously polished and take countless hours to develop?"
Chen Xian: "A better story needs to be written in one go."
Uncle Fu lost his temper; he was awesome.
Chen Xian chuckled: "Yes. It took me several mornings to write, bit by bit."
Uncle Fu became engrossed in it without realizing it.
arts:
"Don't scare me. It's the middle of the night. It must be some official's son committing a crime and looking for a scapegoat. Anyway, nobody saw anything clearly."
Uncle Fu read it all in one go.
I let out a long sigh of relief.
happy.
After reading it, he carefully folded the manuscript and tentatively asked, "Brother Chen, I wonder how many more chapters are left?"
Chen Xian pondered for a moment.
"The next 10,000 words or so will mark the temporary end of this series. The following stories will be short tales similar to ghost stories, and the collection will be called 'Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio'."
Uncle Fu sighed.
"Okay, it's time to give a character in the book a perfect ending."
He originally thought that Chen Xian's rapid writing might result in a book that wasn't as good as the previous one.
Now it seems that the genius truly lived up to his name.
They continue to maintain a high level of creative output.
I really don't know how productive this person would be if he spent all his time creating in his study.
Uncle Fu took out some silver and handed it over.
Chen Xian took it and was taken aback.
'this? "
It was clearly two taels of silver.
Uncle Fu laughed and said, "I see that it is not easy for Brother Chen to support his family. Consider the extra tael as my personal favor. Brother Chen, could you distribute the housework to your family members and leave more time to concentrate on writing your stories?"
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