"My aunt played with hanging in the middle of the night,
Trying to trick the key.
Who knew I'd meet this girl?
The levitation trick has turned into a farce!
Back in the bedroom, Chuntao laughed so hard that she leaned over the table and pounded her legs: "Miss, you are amazing! How did you know that Liu was going to pretend to hang herself?"
Chen Weiwan polished the copper key with a soft cloth, the taotie pattern carved on the key handle gleaming. "I've ripped that old hag out of two hundred taels. It would be strange if she didn't do something outrageous." She picked up the account book on the table and turned to a new page. "Chuntao, record tonight's 'venue fee'—two hundred taels straight. It'll be your performance fee for renting the space in front of the warehouse."
"Ah? This also costs money?" Chuntao's eyes widened in shock, and the ink pen hovered above the account book.
"Of course!" Shen Weiwan raised her eyebrows and tapped the account book with her fingertips. "Auntie's thousand-layer routine must be clearly marked with a price. Next time if she learns to climb the wall like a gecko, we will charge for the wall wear and tear; if she learns to dig a hole like a mouse, we will charge for the earthwork excavation fee!"
As he was speaking, the old housekeeper coughed outside the window: "Miss, Liu sent a nanny to deliver a note, saying that her neck was strangled and she needs a doctor..."
Chen Weiwan flipped through the account book without looking up. "Tell her that the medical expenses will be deducted from the two hundred taels from the last Feng Shui Festival. Oh, and find that copy of 'A Hundred Styles of Jianghu Juggling' in the corner of the storeroom. Give it to my aunt as a 'healing gift.' Say it's a gift from me to help her improve her levitation skills."
The old housekeeper laughed out of the window: "Yes, Miss, I will do it right away."
Liu's room was in a mess, with rouge and powder on the dressing table scattered all over the floor. The nanny was carefully applying medicine to her neck. The smell of the medicine mixed with her heavy breathing made it hard to breathe.
"Chen Weiwan! Little bitch!" Liu waved her hand violently and knocked over the medicine bowl, and the brown medicine splashed on the brocade quilt, "How dare you plot against me! I must let her know how powerful I am!" The marks on her neck were burning with pain. What was even more unbearable than the pain was the embarrassment of being humiliated in public. The servants' faces trying not to smile swayed in front of her eyes, like countless needles pricking her old face.
"Madam, calm down," the nanny whispered, picking up the broken pieces of the bowl. "How about we try another method? The key to the warehouse..."
Liu stared out the window with a sinister look. The warehouse was pitch black, like a monster waiting to devour. She flung open her pillow and fished out the hidden ledger, the edges of which were wrinkled from her grip. "Change it! Of course I have to!" Her fingertips traced the densely packed numbers on the ledger, evidence of years of embezzlement and misappropriation. "Chen Weiwan, I don't believe I can't deal with you, a little girl!"
The next morning, the grape trellises of the Crooked Poetry Society were packed with people. Shen Weiwan knocked on the stone table and announced a new decision: "We've added a new 'anti-theft' section to the club. Starting today, we're accepting submissions for all kinds of anti-conventional doggerel!"
Uncle Wang, who was selling candied haws, immediately raised his hand, and the candied haws target almost hit the old beggar next to him: "Miss, I have a new song! 'Auntie tried to steal the key and hang herself in the middle of the night, but Miss has sharp eyes and saw through it at a glance!'"
"Good!" Shen Weiwan clapped her hands and took out three copper coins from her sleeve pocket. "Uncle Wang's poem is vivid and vivid. I'll give you three strings of candied haws!"
The old butler stood behind the moon-shaped gate, watching his eldest daughter, surrounded by the members, bursting into laughter. He couldn't help but stroke his beard and shake his head. When the general was alive, he never imagined that his daughter would be in the west wing, making up rhymes with a group of peddlers and hawkers. But looking at the stable copper lock on the storehouse, and thinking of Liu's dusty appearance last night, he couldn't help but smile. This storehouse was probably even harder to enter than the imperial treasury.
Chen Weiwan fiddled with the abacus pendant at her waist, her eyes glaring towards the warehouse. She'd taken Liu's tricks. She had a firm grip on this copper key! What tricks would that old hag pull in the next fight? She touched her nose, a confident smile playing on her lips—no matter what tricks, she'd accept them all! The battle to defend the warehouse had only just begun.
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