"You—!" Liu was so angry that her face turned pale, and the carefully painted nail polish almost dug into her palm. The people around her immediately started to make a noise, pointing and talking like a tide:
"So it's an internal struggle within the General's Mansion!"
"No wonder Miss Shen wants to sell her poems. I'm afraid she's been treated harshly."
"Look at Madam Liu, she doesn't look like a good person!"
Seeing this, Shen Ruorou screamed and rushed forward to grab the manuscript, but was stopped by the quick-eyed and quick-handed Chuntao. As the two pushed and shoved, Shen Weiwan suddenly exclaimed: "Ah! Something fell out of my cousin's sleeve!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw half a moldy osmanthus cake rolling out from Shen Ruorou's wide sleeve. The cake was covered with dark blue mold spots. It was the leftover leftovers from three days ago when Liu, under the pretext of "thriftiness in the mansion," withheld most of the snacks that should have been distributed to the servants.
"Oh my god! The second young lady has hidden all the good stuff!"
"You usually act so virtuous, but you're actually a hypocrite!"
The accusations grew louder and louder, and Shen Ruoruo's face turned pale as paper, and she covered her face and sobbed. Liu was angry and anxious, but because there were too many onlookers, she could only glare at Shen Weiwan fiercely and drag her daughter away in embarrassment. Before leaving, she did not forget to leave a harsh word: "Shen Weiwan, you wait for me!"
"Take care, Auntie!" Shen Weiwan shouted at the top of her voice, her eyes curved with pride, "Next time you want to buy poetry, remember to make an appointment in advance. After all, we are 'family'. I'll give you a 20% discount!"
Amidst the roar of laughter, Shen Weiwan was about to close her stall when she suddenly felt a burning gaze cast upon her. She looked up and saw the Seventh Prince, Xiao Yu, standing on the second floor of the tavern not far away. His moon-white brocade robe gleamed in the sunlight. The jade belt buckle at his waist was inlaid with fine Hetian jade. In his hand, he toyed with a mutton-fat jade ring. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with interest.
The next moment, Xiao Yu appeared in front of the bookstall, his steps graceful, as if he were strolling in a garden. He casually flipped through the manuscript, his slender fingers brushing against the pages. "Miss Shen's business is booming." He paused, then suddenly leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against Shen Weiwan's ear, carrying a faint hint of ambergris. "This 'Shashou Poetry Collection', I want it all. But I have one condition—from now on, the 'Future Prince Consort' can only sell new works to me."
Shen Weiwan's heart skipped a beat, but she pretended to be indifferent. She raised an eyebrow and deliberately walked around Xiao Yu, her skirt brushing his ankles. "Your Highness, are you trying to monopolize the business? But..." She deliberately dragged out her words, a cunning glint in her eyes, "Since you look pretty, I'll pay the deposit first."
Xiao Yu chuckled softly, his laughter as clear as the sound of metal and stone clashing. He pulled a heavy purse from his sleeve and casually tossed it onto the bookshelf. The cloud patterns embroidered with gold thread shone brightly in the sunlight. "Is it enough to buy a lifetime's supply of poetry?"
The sun set, its afterglow gilding the capital. The general's carriage slowly pulled away from Zhuque Street, its wheels chugging along the bluestone pavement. Chuntao, clutching a bamboo basket filled with copper coins, smiled widely, "Miss, look at this silver! It's over two hundred taels!"
Shen Weiwan lifted a corner of the curtain and looked at the Seventh Prince, who was riding a horse not far away. He was looking down at the manuscript of poetry in his hands, a gentle smile on his lips. The afterglow of the setting sun cast a hazy golden hue on him. Shen Weiwan suddenly felt that this life of turning the blood and tears of the past life into doggerel in this world, trampling on enemies underfoot and making money in the process, was three times sweeter than honey.
What she was looking forward to even more was that when she passed the news of her "poetry collection being a bestseller" to Liu's ears, the wonderful scene of the aunt smashing antiques in anger would surely be even more exciting than the farce on the street today. Thinking of this, Shen Weiwan couldn't help laughing out loud. The crisp laughter startled the Seventh Prince outside the car window and looked up, his eyes full of doting smiles.
The capital's atmosphere is destined to become increasingly chaotic due to her "mudslide in the poetry world".
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