Chapter 29: Off to Sell Storybooks at the Bookshop

Chapter 29: Selling the Story at the Bookshop

The second time he came to the city, Wen Xi was still unfamiliar with Lin'an County. Once they got there, he stuck close to Yan Fengan's side until they came to a stop in front of a two-story building.

To Wen Xi, this two-story building looked mighty impressive. The front was painted with black lacquer, a banner hung under the eaves, and right in the middle hung a plaque with three gleaming gold characters.

Wen Xi craned his neck and read aloud softly: "Wen..."

He didn't recognize the next two characters. When he got stuck, Yan Fengan said, "This is the Wencui Pavilion, the largest bookshop in Lin'an City."

Wen Xi silently traced the characters "Cui Xuan" with his finger, so that if he ever saw them again, he'd be able to read them.

Yan Fengan straightened out his own and Wen Xi's clothes. He made a point of hanging back at the entrance for a bit, and only when he saw nobody getting tossed out did he stride in bold as you please.

The bookshop wasn't busy that morning—just a handful of folks scattered around the shelves, flipping through books.

The shop clerk, who'd been dusting, heard them come in and walked over to greet him like an old acquaintance: "Scholar Yan is here..."

Spotting the young man at his side, Li Er caught on quick and said, "This must be your husband, right?"

Yan Fengan smiled and nodded. "Indeed."

"With the two of you being this easy on the eyes, you make a perfect pair. What can I help you find today?"

Yan Fengan looked left and right, and once he saw nobody was watching, he pulled a manuscript out from inside his robe: "That day you mentioned making money off of writing storybooks, so I went home and gave it a shot. I wonder if your manager could take a look at it?"

Li Er never figured his throwaway comment would actually stick. This Scholar Yan sure didn't waste any time.

The shop had been buying up story manuscripts left and right lately. Hearing this, Li Er quickly said, "Of course. Our manager is upstairs reading. Please, Scholar Yan, this way."

The shop manager had told Li Er beforehand that anyone coming to sell a story could be brought straight upstairs, no need to announce first.

Upstairs, Li Er knocked on a door and said, "Boss, we got a new story in."

A voice from inside said, "Come in."

Once he'd shown Yan Fengan inside, Li Er made the introductions with plenty of enthusiasm: "Manager, this is Scholar Yan from Lingyun Academy. He's written a new story and would like you to take a look."

"Alright, I understand. They need you downstairs, so you can go now."

The man speaking was in his forties, lean-faced, with two thin patches of beard. He wore a dark blue round-collar brocade robe under a sheepskin jacket, and a charcoal brazier sat warm at his feet. This was the bookshop manager, Yang Shouli.

He set down the manuscripts he was getting ready to send to print, let his eyes drift from Yan Fengan to Wen Xi and back, then fixed on Yan Fengan and said, "So you're Scholar Yan? What story have you written? Bring it over and let me have a look."

Yang Shouli showed up at the shop every day, but unlike Li Er, who spent all his time downstairs with customers, he'd never met Yan Fengan before.

Yan Fengan handed over his manuscript: "This humble one's work, sir. Please take a look. Even if you can't take it on, I'd be grateful for any pointers."

There's a saying: nobody slaps a smiling face. By playing the humble newcomer, he figured the manager might go easier on him.

Yang Shouli took the manuscript and waved them toward the chairs on his right. "Let me have a read. Bear with me a moment."

With that, he unwrapped the oil paper and started flipping through the pages.

The first thing that hit his eyes was the title at the top. The moment he read those four characters—"The Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman"—Manager Yang gave a quiet scoff to himself.

Of the scholars who'd come by to sell stories over the past few days, eight out of ten had written about spirits and monsters. Of the other two, one was a courtroom mystery and the other a scholar-meets-beauty romance.

In the end, he'd only taken two out of the ten.

One was about a tiger immortal who turned himself into a county constable, busting crooks and setting the streets right, until the townsfolk loved him so much they built a shrine in his name. The other was the courtroom mystery.

Truth be told, neither of those two had especially brilliant writing. Their only real selling point was a built-in audience—they might not fly off the shelves, but at least folks would read them, so the shop wouldn't take a loss.

This "Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman" in his hands was probably just another story with nothing new or special to it.

Yang Shouli didn't feel like wasting time, so he figured he'd skim a chapter or two and send the pair packing.

But a few lines in, he stopped short. "Huh?" He thought to himself that this story wasn't anything like he'd expected.

You could tell from the very first chapter whether a story had legs or not.

This Scholar Yan wrote real well, but he wasn't showing off. The prose flowed smooth, and the plot had plenty of twists.

Manager Yang had read more stories than he could count, and most didn't even register. But this "Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman" actually made his eyes go wide.

By the time he finished the first chapter, questions were piling up in his head.

He wondered how the fox, having taken on Shen Mo's dying wish and taken his shape to find Yu Niang, would manage living with her.

When the man you love and share a bed with suddenly turns out to be a fox spirit—even with the same face—would Yu Niang be able to tell?

And if his cover got blown someday, how would this grateful fox spirit explain himself? Could Yu Niang even handle the news that her husband was dead?

With all that tension building, Manager Yang was dying of curiosity and couldn't flip to the second chapter fast enough.

"Last chapter, the fox took on Shen Mo's form and went to Meihua Town to meet Yu Niang as her husband. Yu Niang had been waiting three long months, so when she saw her husband walk through the door, she burst into tears, threw herself into his arms, and poured her heart out. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't notice how stiff his body felt, or that his arms never came up to hold her back.

From that night on, the fox moved into Yu Niang's place. He ate with her, talked with her, combed her hair, painted her brows, and sometimes wove cloth at her side. For a while, the two of them lived like a pair of lovebirds out of a fairy tale.

But a fake's a fake, and the longer it went on, the more the cracks started to show. A husband she'd waited three months for coming home safe, and acting even more loving than before—she ought to have been over the moon. But the weird little things about Shen Mo were too strange to brush off.

Strange thing number one: in the three months since he'd come back, Shen Mo was all tenderness and care. Whatever Yu Niang wished for or loved, he would bring before her. Seeing Yu Niang's beautiful face, he couldn't help but nuzzle against her, intimately kissing her lips. Fox folk were masters of seduction, and Yu Niang would get all hot and bothered, swallowing her shyness to get close. But this Shen Mo would always pull back at the last second, never going all the way, like he had some secret he couldn't tell.

Strange thing number two: Yu Niang had a fat, healthy cat at home. Shen Mo had found it on the street and the two had always been thick as thieves. Every time Shen Mo was home, the cat would rub against his pant legs and meow twice. At that, Shen Mo would happily pick up the cat, stroke its head, and play with it. But this time around, the cat bolted the second it saw him, and its meows came out low and mean. And this Shen Mo, who used to dote on the cat, would call it a little vermin behind Yu Niang's back, and even bare his teeth at it like some kind of animal, scaring it into screeching fits. Yu Niang had caught him at it more than once.

Strange thing number three: Shen Mo used to be a wandering swordsman. Even after getting married, he never changed his ways—every few days he'd head out with his martial brothers to right wrongs and put the fear of God into the thugs and bullies who preyed on folks. But now he stuck to Yu Niang's side day and night, never leaving her for a second. That got Yu Niang suspicious, and it had his buddies scratching their heads too. One day, Shen Mo's closest friend, Qiao Ninger, suddenly came looking for him..."

That's where the second chapter ended. Manager Yang figured the fox was about to get found out, but the third chapter didn't go the way he thought it would.

[After Shen Mo died, the fox used his magic to pull out more than twenty years' worth of Shen Mo's memories. No matter what Qiao Ninger asked, he could answer fluently. When Qiao Ninger asked why he hadn't been meeting with his martial brothers lately, Shen Mo only said: "With a pretty wife in my arms, how could I leave her to go hang out with you lot? I've made up my mind to leave the jianghu behind. Don't come pestering me again."

Qiao Ninger said: "I understand your intentions, Brother Shen, but the matter you were entrusted with hasn't been resolved yet. I beg you to help me one more time."

What was it about? It turned out that the case of the stolen national treasure was something Qiao Ninger had entrusted to Shen Mo.]

Oh right—that case. The real Shen Mo had died because of that stolen treasure business. How could he have forgotten that? Manager Yang flipped ahead in a hurry.

He was so absorbed in reading that he forgot there were two other people sitting in the room.

In someone else's home, Wen Xi didn't dare look around, so he could only keep his eyes on Yang Shouli. As a result, every expression that crossed Yang Shouli's face was captured in Wen Xi's view.

First, Manager Yang's face was indifferent, then his brows furrowed, then his eyes lit up slightly, and occasionally he let out an "Eh" or "Ah" of surprise. Wen Xi didn't know what he meant, so he nervously glanced at Yan Fengan.

Yan Fengan held his hand, gently stroking it in silent comfort.

Yang Shouli suddenly snapped back to reality and smiled apologetically at Yan Fengan and Wen Xi: "I got so absorbed in reading that I neglected you two. My apologies."

There was still a thick stack of manuscript paper in his hands. He said to Yan Fengan, "I probably won't be able to finish reading the rest of the story anytime soon. Why don't you take your husband out for a stroll? Come back in an hour, and I'll give you my answer."

Such idle waiting really wasn't going to cut it, so Yan Fengan said, "Alright, we'll come back later."

He and Wen Xi had come into town on empty stomachs, having not eaten since last night. Leaving the bookshop, he took Wen Xi to a nearby noodle shop first and ordered two bowls of noodles.

The noodles were the most basic yangchun noodles, and Yan Fengan asked the old man cooking them to fry them each an egg.

The noodle shop owner knew his stuff—the fried eggs came out golden on the outside, silky on the inside, and every bite was packed with rich, savory egg flavor.

A delicious fried egg like that was right in front of him, but Wen Xi just didn't have much of an appetite. He scooped his egg into Yan Fengan's bowl, saying, "You worked hard on the story—you have it."

"What's so hard about writing a story? We're husband and husband, sharing the good and the bad, and good food should be enjoyed together. What fun is it if I'm the only one eating? I'll only be happy if you eat too."

Yan Fengan picked up the fried egg and held it up to Wen Xi's mouth, saying, "It's very fragrant, come try it."

With the egg right there at his lips, Wen Xi couldn't really say no. He took a small bite and nodded approvingly, saying, "It really is delicious."

Yan Fengan smiled. "Why would I lie to you?"

Seeing how calm and collected he was, Wen Xi couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you nervous at all? What if the bookshop owner didn't..."

He paused, then said, "What if he's got no taste?"

Sure, Wen Xi had never read the story Yan Fengan wrote, but that didn't shake his faith in Yan Fengan's skills.

If the bookshop owner didn't take it, it wasn't because Yan Fengan's writing was bad—it was just that the owner had no eye for quality.

That kind of blind faith made Yan Fengan laugh. He placed the fried egg back into Wen Xi's bowl and said honestly, "Before we went into the bookshop, I was nervous in a way I can't quite put into words—worried I hadn't written something well enough and the owner would turn his nose up at it. But now, honestly, I'm not nervous at all."

"Why?"

Wen Xi didn't understand—shouldn't he be even more nervous now that they were about to find out?

Yan Fengan reminded him, "Didn't you see how into that story the bookshop owner was? If he hadn't liked it, he would've sent us packing ages ago, not told us to come back in an hour."

Yeah, that was true. The owner's face had been all over the place—clearly he was totally hooked by the story.

Once he understood, Wen Xi's nervousness faded too. He gave a little smile and said, "I knew you could do it."

Yan Fengan's heart softened, and he said gently, "The noodles are getting cold, eat up. We'll find out how it goes soon enough."

Yang Shouli read a lot every day, so a story of seventy or eighty thousand characters didn't take him long. In less than an hour, he had finished reading The Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman. The ending was sad, and he felt a lingering ache he couldn't quite name.

When Yan Fengan and Wen Xi returned, Yang Shouli had already stacked the manuscript neatly and set it on the table. As Yan Fengan approached, the eagerness in his eyes was even stronger than before.

"I've read The Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman cover to cover. I gotta say, Scholar Yan, this story of yours is really well written. The writing is top-notch, the ideas are clever, and the emotions are rich and nuanced—it's genuinely a rare and wonderful story."

That was high praise indeed. Yan Fengan said happily, "Thank you for the kind words, Manager Yang."

Yang Shouli waved his hand and changed the subject, saying, "But there are a few spots in the story I'd like to talk over with you."

Hearing that, Wen Xi felt a knot of tension tighten in his chest again. Yan Fengan kept his smile and said, "Go ahead, Manager, speak your mind."