It's said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the filter of a best friend is no less. After listening to Meng Zhao's words, Song Wanyin didn't think that she had ulterior motives at all. On the contrary, she felt that she was more and more frank and sincere.
"I don't have anything urgent to do today, so I'm not in a hurry to go back. I'll just help Zhao Zhao sweep the snow." Song Wanyin bent down, picked up the shovel from the ground, and was about to help.
Upon hearing this, Coral, who was standing nearby, immediately became anxious. "Miss, how can this be? It's so cold on the street. We don't want her to catch a cold."
Song Wanyin glanced at Shanhu and Meng Zhao's clothes; both were wearing cotton-padded coats. She then raised her own fox fur cloak and shook her head. "Of the three of us, I'm the most warmly dressed. What could possibly happen to me?"
Seeing that she was determined, Meng Zhao did not stop her anymore. He led her and Shanhu to catch up with the main group, found two brooms for them, and waited until the snow on the street was cleared before Meng Zhao prepared to go home.
Song Wanyin gently invited her, "Sister Zhaozhao, I've revised that storybook I mentioned to you last time several times, but I've only written the opening chapter. Why don't you come back with me and give me some feedback?"
Meng Zhao hesitated slightly and asked softly, "If I go back with you, what if we run into the magistrate? I'm afraid it will cause me a lot of trouble..."
“If we run into each other, so be it. You’re my good friend. Just because of him, does that mean I can’t invite my own friends over for a small gathering? Besides, he invited several merchants from the county to a banquet today, so he probably won’t be back until tonight.” Song Wanyin didn’t care about Meng Zhao’s worries at all.
Meng Zhao nodded in agreement, greeted the Gu family and others, and then went home with Song Wanyin.
Upon arriving home, Song Wanyin first instructed the servants to stoke the fire in the stove, and then asked Shanhu to fetch the book she had written.
Meng Zhao slowly walked to the stove and stretched out his hands to warm them above the fire.
At first glance, the magistrate's house was not as luxurious as she had imagined, even less so than the wealthy families she had previously hosted banquets for. However, upon closer inspection, it became clear that every table, chair, and ornament was exquisite. Moreover, even when no one was in the house, a charcoal fire was always burning, indicating that the family was quite wealthy.
A moment later, Coral came over carrying an exquisite booklet. Song Wanyin took the booklet, handed it to Meng Zhao, and said, "This is just the beginning. Take a look and see what you think."
Meng Zhao smiled and took it, then began to read it carefully. Since there was only one opening chapter, he finished reading it quickly.
Then he turned to look at Song Wanyin, who was staring at him, pondered for a moment, and expressed his thoughts.
"Although it's just the beginning, it's already very captivating. The young lady in the story suffered an unexpected downfall and her family fell into poverty, but instead of complaining, she worked hard to improve herself and do her best to find a way out. It's truly admirable. I've only read the beginning, but I'm already quite curious about what happens next."
Song Wanyin's tense nerves relaxed slightly, and a relieved smile appeared on her face.
Then he asked, "So, what parts do you think are poorly written? I've been carefully considering every word and revising it several times these past few days, but I'm still not completely satisfied."
Meng Zhao smiled and shook his head. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself. Your story is clearly very well written."
"If I had to nitpick, it would probably be that I found it a bit obscure. As you know, many people read storybooks, not just those who are literate. There are also many illiterate ordinary people who go to teahouses to listen to a few passages. If it is too full of allusions, many people will probably find it difficult to read. It would be better to write it in plain language so that everyone can understand it."
Upon hearing Meng Zhao's words, Song Wanyin's eyes widened slightly, and a look of sudden realization appeared on her face. She had indeed been focused on how to write beautiful, moving, and poetic prose, and hadn't really thought about how readers of the storybook would feel.
"Thank you, Zhao Zhao. You really enlightened me. I was wrong before. I only focused on the beautiful and gorgeous writing style and neglected other things."
While speaking, Meng Zhao was worried that Song Wanyin might be displeased. After all, Song Wanyin came from a high-ranking family. If she felt that what he wrote was not for illiterate people, wouldn't what he said upset her?
Unexpectedly, she didn't mind at all. It makes sense, though; if she were truly self-important, why would she be friends with me?
The two chatted about the storybook for almost half an hour, discussing the upcoming plot, until it got late. Meng Zhao then realized that it was getting late, got up, straightened his clothes, and prepared to take his leave.
Song Wanyin held Meng Zhao's hand reluctantly, "If I wasn't worried about the road being difficult to travel in the dark, I really wanted you to stay for dinner."
Meng Zhao said with a smile, "We don't live that far apart, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to meet in the future. Besides, I'm really looking forward to the rest of the story, so you'd better hurry up. If you write slowly, I'll come to visit you every day."
Song Wanyin was amused by Meng Zhao's witty words and laughed heartily. She could only wave her hands repeatedly to beg for mercy, "Okay, okay, I will definitely try my best to write faster and I won't keep you waiting for long, so don't worry."
Sitting in the carriage, Meng Zhao couldn't help but fall into deep thought, all because of what Song Wanyin had said earlier that day: the county magistrate had invited several wealthy merchants to dinner that evening.
At this time, there was a snow disaster, and the county magistrate was extremely worried. He contacted those wealthy merchants at this time, probably hoping that they would generously donate money.
Merchants invited by the county magistrate must all be wealthy. Meng Zhao roughly calculated in his mind that the daily labor cost, food cost, firewood cost, and maintenance cost of the temporary soup kitchen set up at the city gate alone would be at least thirty or forty taels.
Since the soup kitchen has been set up, it can't just be set up for a few days. Over half a month, it will cost at least several hundred taels of silver.
As a small merchant, her financial resources were far inferior to those of large businesses, so she naturally couldn't afford to join in the fun.
But what she was thinking was that since the county magistrate was personally in charge of this matter, he would naturally hope that his subordinates would participate enthusiastically. Although she couldn't offer much money, if she could gain a reputation for active participation, she could at least make a name for herself with the county magistrate. Even if it was just gaining some fame, it would be worth it.
Moreover, the county magistrate can't let people spend money for nothing, so he naturally has to give them some benefits. Song Kun's place in the county school was obtained by his family through doing good deeds.
After thinking it through, Meng Zhao prepared a gift and went to Aunt Zhang's house. Under the pretext of paying New Year's respects, she asked Wu Rongzhou to help her find out about the situation at the yamen.
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