Chapter 78: Endearing

Chapter 78: Endearing

Jinli Hua pouted her lips, her eyes drooping as she bowed her head, her shoulders heaving as if she were about to cry.

Xianjin felt relieved at first, but then seeing the little chubby girl on the verge of tears, she was startled. She mentally slapped herself eighty times, filled with regret, and began a long and arduous journey to comfort Hua.

She praised, "It’s been a while, Baozhu looks even more spirited," and promised, "I’ll come to the Thatched Bookhouse tomorrow; if Xiao Zhu'er is free, we can have lunch together." Seeing that the little chubby girl still looked gloomy, she deeply regretted her troublemaking mouth and hesitated for a moment before tentatively saying, "How about today, you accompany me..."

"Okay, okay!" Little Qiao Baozhu lifted her head and agreed repeatedly.

There wasn’t a single tear in her eyes...

Xianjin: "..."

You don't even know what we're going to do!

Be careful not to be sold off like goods!

Since she was taking Qiao Baozhu along, going to the clinic was clearly not a suitable activity for a child.

Xianjin silently apologized to Chen Fu, thinking that gout wouldn't kill him or be easily cured, so let him suffer for a few more days. It would be a payment for his peaceful life and gluttony.

Thus, she decided to take the little chubby girl to inspect the newly acquired Song Kee.

All the neighboring shops on both sides of Song Kee were open for business, but only Song Kee was closed. Xianjin used a long-handled copper key to unlock the shop door and immediately smelled a faint mustiness.

Xianjin frowned.

A paper merchant with a musty smell in the shop?

The reasons were basically two: one, the shop was damp, and they were too lazy to perform daily dehumidification—paper merchants, dry goods sellers, tea sellers, textile makers... all these valuable items fear water and dampness. They need to use perforated iron cylinders filled with red-hot charcoal to dry the air and remove moisture every day.

This measure wasn't complicated, but doing it daily was tedious. Moreover, once June arrived, the weather got hot, and standing next to a burning cylinder of charcoal was uncomfortable, so some lazy assistants skipped this step.

The result was that the goods became damp, either spoiling or unsellable.

Secondly, poor cleaning led to mold growth.

Neither should happen in a paper shop.

It seemed that after the old manager fell ill, Song Baixi had taken a laissez-faire approach, leading to the shop's current state.

Based on this, Xianjin didn't want to look at Song Kee's ledger at all.

She could imagine it would be messier than tangled hair from a drain.

Xianjin easily found a stack of sticky papers under the counter, covered in something gooey, like phlegm, all yellowed.

Qiao Baozhu, standing next to Xianjin, caught a strange smell and involuntarily rolled her eyes, almost gagging.

Xianjin asked Suo'er to take her out for some pancakes.

Qiao Baozhu was stunned, then tightly clung to Xianjin's elbow, "No way!"

Xianjin: "..."

She never thought there would be a day when her appeal surpassed that of pancakes.

Xianjin expressionlessly took the handkerchief from Suo'er, wiped her hands clean, put the handkerchief on her hand, and rummaged through drawers and cabinets, finding nothing.

She stood there, pondering and looking around.

Because Chen's location on Shuixi Street was better and more central, the monthly rents were similar, yet Song Kee had a slightly larger shop area.

The shop had a row of windows, inside which several drawers and bamboo cabinets were neatly arranged. In the corner stood a tall rack with a wilted pot of cloud bamboo.

Xianjin turned to look at the locks on the drawers and the locked door to the inner room, forming a plan.

She nimbly stepped onto a stool, stretched up with one hand to lift the base of the cloud bamboo pot, looked up, and slowly felt around the bottom of the pot. Soon, she indeed found a cold set of keys inside.

Xianjin jumped down and smoothly unlocked several drawers.

Qiao Baozhu exclaimed in admiration, "Wow! How did you know the keys were there?"

Xianjin, focused on unlocking, replied, "The young master doesn't have keys hanging from his waist. Given his attitude, he must find them heavy and noisy, so he must have hidden them in the shop."

Carrying the shop keys at all times is a merchant's rule.

In her previous life, her father’s waist, besides a belt with a large logo and a beer belly, always had a bunch of shop keys jingling as he walked, showcasing his nouveau riche status.

As he said, "Even if I get drunk, I might lose myself, but I won’t lose these keys."

Chen's shop keys were managed by Manager Dong and Li Sanshun. Manager Dong handled the shop, Li Sanshun handled the workshop, and the warehouse required both of them and Xianjin to be present to open it. Each key had no duplicate—convenient for accountability.

Therefore, when Song Baixi appeared dressed as a scholar, wearing a long robe and a topknot, with only a decorative jade pendant on his waist, Xianjin knew he must have hidden the keys in the shop for convenience.

Irresponsible people ruin everything.

Xianjin opened each drawer one by one, and Suo'er moved the papers out.

Xianjin scanned the contents, all common goods.

Master Gao hadn't been wrong; Song Kee had played it safe for four or five years, selling whatever was popular and avoiding risks. They were busy but mediocre, except for copying Chen's calligraphy books a few months ago. Once those sold well, Song Baixi and the old manager had the craftsmen work day and night to produce coral peach paper, hoping for a big score.

If it really was coral peach paper, it wouldn't have been a waste.

Xianjin lowered her head and picked the key with the brightest handle. She pushed open the second door inside and headed to the warehouse at the back of the store.

The warehouse door creaked open.

The lamp wrapped in oil paper flickered to life.

Xianjin stood there, stunned.

Su'er twitched the corner of her mouth.

Qiao Baozhu drew a sharp breath. "How much toilet paper is there?"

Xianjin moved her throat slightly.

Master Gao had mentioned that Song Baixi and the old steward had cut the Coral Peach Paper into sizes suitable for making tracing books.

Master Gao, excluded from the power center of Song Kee, spoke in vague terms.

Xianjin remembered this and was mentally prepared.

But.

She hadn't expected those two to be so efficient!

They had cut all the paper into the size of tracing books!

No, no, no!

To save costs, they even made the size smaller and narrower than existing tracing books!

What could they do with this?

Make origami cranes?

Fold stars?

Or invent sticky notes?

This master-servant duo, when foolish, were impressively efficient!

They even showed a sense of discipline—orders must be followed, prohibitions must be observed!

Xianjin swallowed hard, wishing she could slap herself eighty times—she had given away that thousand taels too easily! With their incompetence, she could have negotiated down by at least two hundred taels!

Xianjin regretted her decision.

Su'er blinked and moved the oil lamp elsewhere—less sight, less distress.

Not moving it, one wouldn't know; moving it, one would be shocked.

In Song Kee's warehouse, besides the dozens of stacks of toilet paper, there were scattered piles of paper.

Mergers and acquisitions always come with risks and opportunities...

Think about those angel investments that went down the drain...

Think about those developers who ran away...

Think about those who bought houses at the peak and became victims...

Xianjin took a deep breath and silently repeated to herself: There is no unsellable product, only sellers who don't know how to sell.

Xianjin and Su'er stood at the door, unable to shake off their feelings.

On the contrary, little Qiao Baozhu took the oil lamp from Su'er, carefully pinched her nose, and walked inside. She picked up a few pieces of Coral Peach Paper, slightly smaller than book pages, held the lamp close, and looked up at Xianjin with a smile, waving the paper. "This paper is really pretty! It's pink and sparkly!"

The pink color came from the juice of red orchid leaves, and the sparkle came from mica powder.

Xianjin was about to respond but suddenly paused.

Pretty?

Of course, girls find Coral Peach Paper beautiful.

First, the color is lovely, soft and pink;

Second, the sheen is dazzling, glittering.

Although Xianjin preferred a minimalist, dull color palette, she understood the contemporary girl's excitement over cute things like StellaLou.

Wait!

Xianjin narrowed her eyes and suddenly felt a jolt.

If...

If the target audience were girls...

Girls hidden in their chambers, newly engaged brides, young wives...

They are delicate and emotional, harboring rich, unspoken feelings.

Perhaps they might buy a finely crafted notebook, occasionally adorned with a page of exquisite flowers or birds, a line or two of "inspirational quotes," or a sentence of cool poetry?