Chapter 58: County Town, Paying Out of Pocket for a Book Review

Chapter 58: County Town - Paying Out of Pocket to Publish Book Reviews

This trip to the county town was mainly for Bing Wengu to handle two matters. The first was delivering the book reviews written by his spouse to the bookshop.

"*Master Wuwei?*"

The Bookshop Proprietor had never heard of this name and refused to accept them.

Bing Wengu slipped the proprietor a red envelope (containing money).

"We'll cover the scribing fees ourselves." Since storybooks were handwritten at the time, and authors had limited energy, bestselling storybooks were usually copied by scribes hired by the bookshop. Only wildly popular or renowned works would be printed.

Nan Jinping was not one of those, so his book reviews wouldn’t be printed—at most, they’d be copied by the bookshop’s scribes.

This was the first time the proprietor had seen someone pay out of pocket to publish book reviews.

"Three taels of silver?" the proprietor said. "(Approximately 3 taels of silver) Are you sure? Many people don’t even earn that much from an entire book."

Bing Wengu nodded. "Just do your best. Profit isn’t important. My only goal is for as many people as possible to know *Master Wuwei’s* name in the shortest time."

The proprietor frowned. "As the Bookshop Proprietor, I can recommend books to customers, but if they’re not interested, there’s nothing I can do."

Bing Wengu smirked faintly. "What if we add Top Scholar Bing's clout?"

The Bookshop Proprietor’s eyes widened in disbelief as he scrutinized Bing Wengu from head to toe. Finally, he bowed deeply. "Pardon my manners, pardon my manners! I had no idea Top Scholar Bing was visiting. I failed to welcome you properly."

Bing Wengu returned the courtesy. "No need for such formality, Proprietor."

But the proprietor couldn’t contain his excitement. If word got out that Top Scholar Bing frequented his shop, he was certain people from the entire town—even the county—would flock to buy books. His shop would explode in popularity, and within a month, he could upgrade to a larger storefront.

How could he not be thrilled? This wasn’t just a top scholar—it was a cash cow!

The Bookshop Proprietor hurriedly returned the silver to Bing Wengu. "If these reviews are written by Top Scholar Bing himself, there’s no need for payment. They’ll surely be a hit!"

Bing Wengu pushed the silver back. "Though I didn’t write them myself, I did edit and refine them. I’d appreciate your help in promoting them. I’m not after profit—just reputation."

"Not written by you?" The proprietor hesitated. "Then who’s the author?"

Bing Wengu replied, "My brother-in-law."

The proprietor flipped through the reviews, skimmed them, and was immediately stunned.

"Well… well…" He spluttered.

"Is there a problem with the reviews?" Nan Jinping, who had written them, couldn’t help but ask when he saw the proprietor’s horrified expression.

"No, not at all. On the contrary, they’re excellent—innovative ideas, razor-sharp critiques, a rare gem of a review. But precisely because of that, they’re bound to step on toes. If these are published, Young Master Xiaoyao will surely be furious with me."

Nan Jinping sighed in relief. As long as the writing wasn’t bad, it was fine. As for stepping on toes, Bing Wengu had already explained—he was cutting into their profits.

"Why would he be angry?" Bing Wengu said. "This will only put Young Master Xiaoyao on the map. I believe once these reviews go viral, more people will read his book, indirectly spreading his name further."

The proprietor still wavered. "But even if it spreads, it might be notoriety."

"If you write, don’t fear criticism. Throughout history, many famous poems and essays have been controversial—none shied away from critique," Bing Wengu countered.

"But this is different. Those were nitpicking, while yours are solid arguments backed by evidence," the proprietor argued.

"Then they must be published. Who knows how many young readers they might spare? Consider it a public service."

The Bookshop Proprietor couldn’t make a decision right away. After all, the Carefree Gentleman was their shop's most popular author. If they offended him, the shop’s future profits would…

Bing Wengu, unwilling to waste more words, said directly, "If the proprietor is truly hesitant, then never mind then. I'll take this to another bookshop. If no bookshop will accept it, I'll go to a teahouse. I believe that with my reputation as the Top Scholar, this review will surely become wildly popular after just one reading in a teahouse."

"We'll publish it," the proprietor hastily replied.

Not publishing it would mean offending the Top Scholar, and the review would still find its way out somehow.

If another bookshop published it first, it would still become wildly popular, and the profits would go to someone else.

Bing Wengu, half-threatening and half-reassuring, said, "Since the proprietor is willing to publish it, please give it your best. I believe this review won’t let you down."

The proprietor forced a bitter smile, feeling as though he had reached a point of no return.

Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping picked out a few more popular storybooks. This time, the proprietor wasn’t pleased but wore a look of distress, looking at the books as if they were condemned men.

As Bing Wengu stepped out the door, he suddenly turned back and said, "When recommending this review, you could package it with the Carefree Gentleman’s storybook—read the story, get the review for free, no extra charge. Oh, and don’t forget to mention that this is the work of Top Scholar Bing’s younger brother, and that Top Scholar Bing himself endorses its views."

"Understood," the proprietor replied, his smile more pained than a grimace. This was truly leaving the Carefree Gentleman with no room to maneuver.

Once outside, Nan Jinping said worriedly, "I don’t even know how my review will fare. Besides, the proprietor said many books don’t even earn three taels. We just gave it away like that. Reputation can come slowly—I don’t care about it."

"Husband, some investments are necessary. Success depends on effort," Bing Wengu emphasized the last two words.

Bing Silang, sitting on the carriage shaft, didn’t understand their conversation, nor did he care to. His job was just to drive the carriage.

Later, Bing Wengu visited several scholars in town known for their good character and finally settled on a middle-aged man in his forties, surnamed Zhang.

This man wasn’t the most learned among those Bing Wengu had met, but his values aligned best with Bing Wengu’s requirements.

Other scholars, upon hearing that one of the students would be a woman, immediately launched into Confucian objections, acting as if Bing Wengu was forcing them into disgrace rather than hiring them as tutors.

Scholar Zhang, upon learning that he wouldn’t be teaching the young woman alone, had no such reservations.

Bing Wengu’s expectations for the Bing and Nan families were simple: know history and understand propriety.

He agreed with Scholar Zhang on a monthly payment of three taels, with lodging and meals provided by the Bing family, two sets of clothes and two pairs of shoes per season, and two days' leave each month.

Scholar Zhang accepted.

Afterward, Bing Wengu bought some pastries and other travel provisions before returning to the Bing household.

Once home, Bing Wengu didn’t rest. He personally made egg cakes, peach shortbread, and oil-fried flour tea.

While preparing these, he didn’t hide his methods. Zhou Shi and Aunt Bing assisted him and learned everything.

Zhou Shi’s eyes lit up. "Big Brother, I can make these too. Can I sell them in town for money?"

"As long as you bear the costs and profits yourself, do as you please," Bing Wengu replied, taking the finished goods back to his room without sharing them. This was his usual way—what he made with his own hands was only for his Husband. If the Bing family wanted some, they could make or buy it themselves.

Truthfully, if not for Nan Jinping, Bing Wengu wouldn’t have bothered making these even if he craved them.

With about two months left until the Prefectural Examination, time wasn’t pressing, so Bing Wengu didn’t rush. He set off leisurely at Chen hour (7-9 AM), as usual, after supper and some parting instructions to the family.

The Bing and Nan families came to bid them farewell, but only as far as the village entrance. Yet, for these few steps, the Nan family had closed their business for the day, demonstrating their regard.

At the village entrance, as they were about to part, Miao Shi pulled Nan Jinping aside and pressed some small silver pieces into his hand.

Nan Jinping initially refused, but Miao Shi insisted, "Take it. Consider it an advance payment of your share for coming months."

Nan Jinping refused, "Even this much is too much."

Miao Shi chided, "What? Now that you're married, you're not your mother's child anymore? Take the extra as your mother's nest egg for her own child, alright?"

"Alright." Nan Jinping accepted the silver and gave Miao Shi a hug—this was the first time in his life he’d be away from home for so long. The thought of not seeing Mom and Dad for at least two months weighed heavily on his heart. "Mom, Dad, take good care of yourselves. If the family business gets too busy, hire help. Money's no object now—don't overwork yourselves."

"Good child, your father and I know," Miao Shi and Nan Jinping’s father hugged him back. "Don’t worry about the family. Just go with your husband and see the world. Your mom, dad, and brothers are all happy for you. I never dreamed my child would have such an opportunity—I’m so happy for you."

After speaking, Miao Shi nudged Nan Jinping onto the carriage and stood by the roadside, waving goodbye. Though it was a joyous occasion, she couldn’t hold back her tears.

"Hah! Isn't it a good thing your Jin Geer is going to the prefectural city with Bing Dalang? Why are you crying? What, do you have a feeling that husband of yours is bound to fail this time?" Li Shi cursed venomously. If words had power, this would be the strongest curse.

Bing Wengu’s journey to the prefectural city for the exams was a significant event for the villagers. Even those who hadn’t come specifically to see him off had gathered to watch the spectacle. Li Shi mingled among them. Though she was indeed a troublemaker who loved raining on others’ parades, this time, it wasn’t just that—she was purely jealous.

Li Shi had secretly burned paper offerings and incense these past few days. Hearing that blood curses packed a punch, she even drew her own blood, all to curse Bing Wengu into failing.

Every word she spoke now was her deepest wish. Bing Wengu absolutely must not pass—otherwise, she and her Erniang would become the biggest fools in the world, having abandoned a promising young scholar for an old man who could be their father.

Miao Shi knew Li Shi’s petty thoughts and refused to play along, deliberately provoking her: "Everyone knows my Jin Geer is a lucky star. With him around, my son-in-law is bound to pass this time."

Unbeknownst to them, Bing Dalang had already proven himself. From being doubted by everyone—including the Nan and Bing families—to now having everyone believe he could pass, Jin Geer’s reputation as a bringer of fortune was something Miao Shi was happy to embrace. If it could make Nan Jinping’s life easier in the future, why not? With this in mind, Miao Shi went around saying Jin Geer was a lucky star.

"What self-respecting lucky star would choose to be born intersex instead of a proper man or woman? Clearly, your family must’ve done something wicked!" Li Shi spat viciously.

"You must be green with envy! Ask around—who in the village doesn’t know that the gods don’t divide people into ranks? They believe all creatures are equal. Even chickens, ducks, and dogs can become deities! So of course a lucky star can be intersex. My Jin Geer is a natural-born celestial lucky star—he just didn’t expect humans to have such ridiculous prejudices when he chose his birth!"

This explanation had been circulating quietly in the village for days. Li Shi had been trying to find the source of the rumor but had yet to uncover it.

"Bullshit! Even if that were true, why didn’t your Jin Geer choose to be born into a wealthy family instead of slumming it with your lot? And if he’s really a lucky star, shouldn’t he have lifted your family out of poverty by now?"

"What would you know about it? How do you know Jin Geer’s blessings haven’t helped us? All these years, our family has stayed healthy and safe. Maybe he traded our prosperity for that—otherwise, who knows what misfortunes might’ve struck us by now?"

By then, Bing Wengu’s group had already left the village, unaware that Li Shi was stirring trouble again. That spineless hag wouldn’t dare say such things in front of Bing Wengu—she waited until he was gone to spew her venom.

Bing Wengu and his companions weren’t in a hurry. They traveled leisurely along main roads, stopping at inns when night fell. Though the journey wasn’t particularly arduous, it still took them seven days to arrive.

They settled in a modest inn, sharing rooms at a hundred wen per day.

Nan Jinping’s elder brother fretted, "So expensive! Two months of this will cost a fortune. Brother-in-law, you need peace to study—take the private room. Si Lang and I don’t need to take exams. We can stay in the dormitory—it’s only two coppers each."

Bing Wengu replied, "We’re just staying here temporarily. Later, we’ll visit an agent to rent a house. It’ll be more convenient and undisturbed."

None of the three objected to Bing Wengu’s plan. Having never traveled so far before, they were all fish out of water.

After resting and eating, they inquired with the innkeeper about nearby agents the next day and set off to find one.

The agent greeted them with a warm, disarming smile.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen? Looking to buy servants or property?"

"Property," Bing Wengu said.

"Any requirements? Size, location, or budget?"

"Not too large, neither too central nor too remote. Most importantly, the neighbors should be decent—not too poor."

The agent gave Bing Wengu a knowing look at the last condition. It seemed innocuous but carried deeper implications.

Not all poor people were vicious, but most struggled just to survive, leaving little room for airs and graces. This often led to thoughtless habits—petty nuisances committed unknowingly.

The real estate agent's smile widened as he probed, "I have three properties that perfectly match your requirements. The neighbors may not be wealthy, but they're at least financially stable. As for the price... it's slightly higher—ten taels of silver per year (about $X). Would that work for you?"

In their town, ten taels could buy a small house outright. Though the capital was expensive, even in less prime locations, thirty or forty taels could purchase a modest home.

Nan Jinping and the other two were inwardly shocked; their hearts raced at the thought. What kind of house was this, made of gold? Even renting was this costly?

Unfortunately, they had no say in the matter. The agent could tell who called the shots and waited only for Bing Wengu's decision.

"The price works. Take us to see them first."

"Right away! I'll escort you right away," the agent said cheerfully. "Do you have a carriage? If not, I can arrange one."

"We do. We came by oxcart."

The three properties were ideally located—neither in the busiest streets nor in remote, cramped areas. The neighbors weren't extravagantly wealthy but were hardworking families living steady lives.

The first house was cheaper but too run-down. If they wanted to move in, just cleaning up the yard would take one or two months—by then, Bing Wengu would have already finished his Prefectural Examination.

The second house was suitable but too large—a spacious two-courtyard house, enough to accommodate Bing's entire family with room to spare. The rent was also several taels more expensive.

The last house was the one Bing Wengu liked best. It wasn't too big, with a small courtyard. Several neighboring families had sent their children to study, ensuring peace and quiet—perfect for Bing Wengu's scholarly pursuits.

"Brother Jin, what do you think of this house?" Bing Wengu asked Nan Jinping for her opinion.

Nan Jinping quite liked it. "It's just a bit pricey."

"Don't worry about the cost. If you like it, we'll take it."

The agent chuckled. "If you like it, best decide quickly. Many scholars are in town for the Prefectural Examination, and rentals are in high demand. If you hesitate, someone else might snatch it up. Finding another suitable place tomorrow won’t be easy."

"Then this one it is."

Even though Bing Wengu and his companions only needed to stay for two months, the house had to be rented for at least half a year. Short-term rentals did exist, but they were either in poor condition or required sharing. For a decent place, leases typically ran six months or longer.

Bing Wengu still chose this house, figuring he could sublet it later if needed. Even if he couldn’t, losing three months' rent was a manageable loss.

The previous tenant had likely moved out recently, and the owner had probably tidied up—the place was in decent shape, just needing a quick tidy-up.

Bing Wengu initially wanted to hire help, but Nan Dalang and Bing Silang, too thrifty to waste money, refused. Both had grown up in hardship and didn’t mind the labor. They had the place cleaned up in two days flat.

Once settled, Bing Wengu assigned them tasks, leaving them stunned.

"What? We’re going to run a tofu business here too?" Bing Silang asked in disbelief.

Bing Wengu gave a slight nod, casting the dictator’s glare at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"N-no, not at all." *Holy crap, the boss’s glare is terrifying.*

"Then I’ll go buy tools. We’ll need equipment for making tofu," Nan Dalang said.

"Thank you for the trouble, Brother."

"Da Lang, wait for me! Let’s go together," Bing Silang hurried after Nan Dalang, unwilling to stay behind and stare him down.

Nan Dalang, good-natured, stopped to wait for Bing Silang without taking offense at his lack of respect.

Nan Dalang and Bing Silang were around the same age, having played together as children. Bing Silang had always been a little rebel, refusing to address anyone as ‘elder brother’—not even his own elder brother. He used to call even his kin by their given names until Bing Wengu tamed him (the original Bing Wengu), after which he started addressing others respectfully.

"Wen Gu, why do you want them to run a business?" Nan Jinping asked. Others might not know, but she was well aware of their family’s wealth—over a thousand taels of silver, nothing to scoff at. That was why she hadn’t objected to Bing Wengu spending freely on renting the house.

"During low points, every bit of experience becomes valuable assets for the future. If you don’t accumulate experience now, when you stand at the peak later, everyone around you will seem kind and friendly—but in truth, these are illusions. They are wolves in human skin, waiting for you to let your guard down so they can take a vicious bite. That’s the most fatal blow, one that can kill you and leave no chance for recovery.

But in hard times, it’s different. The malice around you is obvious, yet shallow. If you’re bitten, it’ll sting for a few days at worst, or cost you some money—nothing that damages your foundation. Take these losses as lessons, remember them, and when you stand at the peak later, you’ll know to stay vigilant and won’t be easily deceived." Bing Wengu explained earnestly to Nan Jinping.

Nan Jinping pondered, "Then should I join the business too, to gain experience?"

Bing Wengu replied with unabashed favoritism, "No need. With me here, I’ll teach you how to avoid detours."

It must be said—no one dislikes being favored.

Though Nan Jinping’s parents doted on her, they were never as openly biased as Bing Wengu. You'd have to be blind not to see it.

Nan Jinping was pleased, her heart doing somersaults. "Then what should I do? Just read novels and write reviews?"

"That’s fine, but staying home all day would be too dull. Why not go to teahouses for storytelling and music?" Bing Wengu suggested.

Nan Jinping gave him a complicated look. "You’re really strange. You study the Confucian classics and excel at it, yet you encourage me to do unconventional things."

In Dayong, the expectations for young women and Shuang Er were clear: a proper lady or respectable Xiao Geer should stay within the inner quarters—chaste, gentle, and dignified.

Those who appeared in public were usually from poor families. A true lady or respectable young man never stepped outside. That was the ideal.

Bing Wengu didn’t bother hiding his disdain. "What nonsense! Just a bunch of mediocre, incompetent men who set these meaningless rules to control their partners. Complete bullshit!"

Nan Jinping stared speechlessly at the book in Bing Wengu’s hands. Whether it was rubbish or not, she wasn't sure—but since Bing Wengu had earned the title of Top Scholar, she was sure he must have written plenty of the very things he now called rubbish.

Bing Wengu shrugged. "Husband, you must have told lies before—even if you completely disagreed with something, you still said it to achieve a goal.

I’m the same. Some of these so-called sage teachings reek to high heaven, but that doesn’t stop them from being my stepping stone to power. As long as they help me reach my goals, I don’t mind holding my nose and praising their fragrance.

If I’m not at the top, no matter how much I think they reek, it’s useless—I have to endure it.

Only when I stand at the summit will my words be heard. Then, others who also find them foul will step forward and join me, becoming the solid force to overturn these things."

Nan Jinping didn’t think Bing Wengu was spouting pretentious nonsense. On the contrary, she found it incredibly charming—how a man could stand on the side of women and Shuang Er, wholeheartedly considering their well-being. It was as if he glowed, making it impossible for her to look away.

Her heart raced, and suddenly, she realized—her husband seemed much more handsome than before.