Chapter 24 Yao Ping'an helps transcribe a thousand words for one cent
The ten silver dollars that arrived a month later were too powerful. Yao Xiaoyu successfully won the battle against Wenrou, but she also began to think about the possibility of hiring the person who did the work back.
Wenrou insisted on making her do things, partly because of her mindset, and partly because of her physical condition. She could manage tasks that only required sitting, like peeling beans and pasting cardboard boxes, but once she needed to walk or stand, she was truly a mermaid separated from the ocean.
Three-inch bound feet, four-inch waist, delicate breasts like cloves floating in ink clouds. [1]
This is a beauty standard that has become popular from who-knows-where, and many women nowadays take pride in conforming to it. But Yao Xiaoyu feels that, apart from the last three words, the first eleven words are stained with the blood and tears of countless women.
"Dad, if you copy what I write down for me, I'll give you a dime for every thousand words, how about it?"
Yao Xiaoyu's thoughts flashed by, and she quickly turned to a more pressing issue. She spent almost as much time copying as writing, and this repetitive activity wouldn't bring her any income, so she might as well spend some money to subcontract it out.
Asking Yao Pingan to help copy was just a slip of the tongue, but the more he thought about it, the more brilliant the idea seemed.
Her family would definitely not leak her manuscript. After Yao Ping'an became one of her employees, her voice would be further strengthened. Although paying one cent per thousand words was a little more expensive than the market price, the money would ultimately stay with her.
She saved time, maintained secrecy, and increased her influence within the Yao family; Zhou Chunhua's financial burden was reduced; Yao Ping'an could have a more stable income and reduce his dependence on the market—it was beneficial for everyone!
"Copying is fine, but I don't need money..."
Yao Ping'an agreed while waving his hand: It's only right to help my daughter, but asking for money would be unacceptable. However, before he could finish refusing, Yao Xiaoyu spoke up.
“This isn’t something I’ve done once or twice, and the amount I’ve copied is quite substantial. Only by keeping clear accounts between father and daughter can we avoid creating any rifts.”
Yao Xiaoyu paused, giving Yao Ping'an some time to process what she was saying, before continuing:
“If you don’t agree, I’ll have to find someone outside; after all, when I went to take on this job, Manager He said that there have been many more students who want to copy these things recently.”
Aside from Yao Xiaoyu's writing business, the Yao family's income has never been a secret. Many people are capable of copying, but they just didn't think of it at the time. Now that the Yao family has paved the way, many people are tempted. In order to enhance their competitiveness, many families have even offered to bring their own ink and lower the price.
The infighting among people in the Republic of China era was quite frightening. If this trend continues, it's only a matter of time before copying prices drop. It's just unknown how low the prices will drop before it ends.
"Listen to Xiaoyu, we'll calculate it at one cent per thousand words."
Zhou Chunhua thought of the extra desks along the way that could be used to write letters, and made the decision for Yao Ping'an directly—it didn't matter which desk was used for copying, and of course, it was the desk at home that she would trust the most compared to those outside.
One thousand words cost one cent, and ten thousand words cost one silver dollar, which is much better than the price outside.
"Okay."
Yao Ping'an wasn't being dramatic; he was just worried that the money for copying was a subsidy from his daughter. Now that he was sure Yao Xiaoyu really needed someone to do the work, he stopped worrying about it.
It's a little awkward working under my daughter, but one can't let such a small emotional outburst cause a loss of money.
"Dad, take good care of yourself. I know you love reading storybooks. Once I become famous and we pay off our debts, I'll find you a job at a bookstore. When people borrow books, you can just register them, and then you can read as many storybooks as you want in your spare time."
With her father having resolved Yao Xiaoyu's biggest concern, Yao Xiaoyu didn't mind giving him a tempting reward. Seeing Yao Ping'an's eyes light up instantly, Yao Xiaoyu mentally gave a thumbs-up, knowing she wouldn't have to worry about the short-term copying work.
Moreover, Yao Xiaoyu wasn't lying; she did indeed intend to find Yao Ping'an a job like this. Staying at home and lying around was impossible unless Yao Ping'an could earn a living by writing like her. Otherwise, she would be the only one working from home in the future.
As for who she could ask to help copy the text without Yao Ping'an... well, there's Zhou Chunhua and Wenrou. Anyway, she doesn't require the handwriting to be perfect, as long as it's clear and neat.
People shouldn't refuse to read and write just because they're getting old.
Yao Tianrui is also capable of holding his own.
Even if all else fails, she still has a dear younger sister whom she plans to support through university.
Even if the Yao family had used up all their resources, it would be several years later. By then, she should have been able to afford a full-time copyist or establish her status as an author in the writing world.
Yao Xiaoyu was making her own plans, but the Yao family, who didn't have mind-reading abilities, were unaware that they had been completely manipulated and were still discussing which story to read.
Previously, the Yao family listened to all sorts of stories, but later they gradually became biased.
Yao Tianrui prefers romantic and poetic stories, while Zhou Chunhua and her mother-in-law want to hear humorous detective stories. Yao Ping'an likes martial arts stories, and Yao Xiaoli doesn't have any particular preference, but if she had to say, she likes stories that are fun.
As a story-reading robot, Yao Xiaoyu patiently waited for them to reach a conclusion. Her fixed biological clock brought on some drowsiness, and Yao Xiaoyu dozed off almost imperceptibly. Finally, everyone reached a decision—they wanted to hear articles written by Yao Xiaoyu.
Yao Xiaoyu: ...
#Urgent! Will I get killed if someone places a hook in front of me?!#
...
One person's meager resistance could not ultimately withstand the overwhelming trend. Yao Xiaoyu still took out her own "Biography of Ding Xian" and began to read it aloud, while making the best of a bad situation for herself—at least she could just read it directly without having to retell the story.
"...How about I come to your house to propose marriage?"
As everyone waited for the next part of the story, they saw Yao Xiaoyu quickly get up and slip out like a rabbit. After a brief sound of water, there was a splashing sound as she went upstairs, followed by the clear sound of the door being locked.
"...Tianrui, can you read what happens next?"
Zhou Chunhua was intrigued by the story. Fortunately, although not many people in her family could read, they still made up two-thirds of the family. There was one little fish that had escaped, and three others who could read newspapers.
"good."
Yao Tianrui was also very curious. He was at the age where he loved romance and poetry. Ding Xian, whom Yao Xiaoyu wrote about, was exactly the image of his dream wife. No, even the person he imagined to be with in the future was not as good as her. That Wen family member was really lucky.
Yao Tianrui excitedly picked up the newspaper.
"..."
Yao Tianrui's face froze.
"...How about I come to your house to propose marriage?"
Zhou Chunhua listened intently for a long time, only to hear this seemingly familiar phrase. Feeling extremely anxious, she urged her eldest grandson to hurry up.
"I've heard that before, what happened next?"
"It's gone."
Zhou Chunhua didn't react for a moment, and when she looked up, she saw Yao Tianrui's smile was more like a grimace.
"The newspaper only published that sentence, nothing more."
Yao Tianrui now understood why Yao Xiaoyu ran so fast; the article was stuck there, and even though he had written it, he was running away too.
You brat, you still locked the door? If you're so capable, put down the hook! If you're so capable, open the door!
...
In the middle of the night, unable to sleep due to the heat, Yao Xiaoyu decided to go downstairs for a walk. As soon as she opened the door, she saw a large, dark shadow on the ground. Before she could react, the shadow spoke:
"Little Fish, are you asleep? I can't sleep."
Yao Tianrui looked at Yao Xiaoyu, and Yao Xiaoyu looked at Yao Tianrui.
"ah--"
The next day, Yao Tianrui went to work with a bruise in one eye.
The next few days passed in a very regular manner. Yao Xiaoyu finished writing the whole story about Ding Xian looking for a job and her parents coming to persuade her to remarry, only to be turned away. After Yao Ping'an finished copying it, he paced back and forth beside Yao Xiaoyu, as if he wanted to say something but didn't.
“Little Fish, your mother and I are different from Ding Xian’s parents.”
Yao Xiaoyu held back for a long time, but finally couldn't help but burst out laughing. She thought Yao Ping'an was stammering and trying to say something, but it turned out to be just this.
"I know."
Yao Xiaoyu said frankly that many people have difficulty expressing their emotions, but she never felt that there was anything that couldn't be said. Being subtle is certainly good, but being straightforward is also great.
“You and your mother both care about your children, so you definitely won’t be like Ding Xian’s parents. That’s just a story.”
Yao Xiaoyu did not doubt Wenrou and Yao Ping'an's love for the child. It's just that fingers are not all the same length, and their favorite person was not Yao Xiaoyu. But there is a difference between not loving enough and not loving at all. Otherwise, she would not be sitting peacefully at home now, but would have been exchanged for a dowry long ago.
"Yes, it's just a story."
Yao Pingan nodded vigorously, let out a long breath, and finally stopped circling around Yao Xiaoyu. Yao Xiaoyu tapped her sore shoulder blades with her other hand and continued to ponder the plot, not forgetting to add the ability to go out anytime, anywhere to her future plans.
Since she arrived here, Yao Xiaoyu has only been able to go out when she needs to submit her manuscripts, but even then, she only comes and goes in a hurry. No matter how many questions she asks Zhou Chunhua and Yao Tianrui, it can't satisfy Yao Xiaoyu's thirst for exploration.
She knew that this era was not stable, but words are rooted in the soil. She had been staying at home and could still write something in the short term by relying on other people's words and knowledge from the modern world, but the further she went, the more difficult it would become to create.
Of course, being a plagiarist is another matter entirely. Stories published domestically are not easy to copy. Future masterpieces, or simply retelling foreign stories in your own words, are all viable paths for now.
But Yao Xiaoyu still prefers to walk her own path openly and honestly, even if it is farther and more rugged.
It is said that intellectuals are soft-hearted, but Yao Xiaoyu did not want to break her bones.
Meanwhile, after several days of development, the sequel to "The Biography of Ding Xian" was finally republished.
"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale! The second installment of Ding Xian's story from the Complete Collection of Stories is here! Young Master Wen marries Ding Xian with a grand wedding procession, but they divorce after returning home—"
Zhang Sancao waved the newspaper in his hand and shouted loudly. The newspaper tucked under his other arm was quickly sold out. He excitedly poured the heavy copper coins into the money box at home and rushed to the newspaper headboard, intending to buy some more "Complete Collection of Storytelling".
As he ran wildly down the road, he hoped that Mr. Little Fish would write more stories, preferably Ding Xian's stories in the newspaper every day, so that his business would be very good and he could save enough money quickly.
...
"Looking into her husband's eyes, Ding Xian finally had to admit that her once upright and honorable husband had unknowingly rotted away."
After reading the last sentence, Old Han skillfully hid under the table. The teahouse was silent for a moment, but soon a deafening roar of curses erupted.
"Why did it break down in a place like this again?!"
-----------------------
The author says: [1] The first half of the sentence comes from "Li Diaoyuan's Ode to a Beautiful Woman": One is Da Qiao, the other is Xiao Qiao, with three-inch golden lotuses and a four-inch waist. She buys five, six, or seven packets of powder, and dresses up to be eighty or ninety points of beauty. I put together the second half of the sentence. "Lilac breasts" refers to the previously popular aesthetic of bound breasts, and "ink clouds drifting" refers to good hair. I wrote it reluctantly for the sake of rhyming.
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