Aoyama

August 6th, the 32nd year of the Jia Ning era.

Just as dawn was breaking, Chen Ji woke up from a dream after sneezing several times. He sat up and mumbled to himself in a daze, "Who's calling my name? Master? I wonder how Master and the others are doing..."

Thinking of this, he sat there for a while, feeling somewhat lost, before getting up, putting on his clothes, rolling up his sleeves, and carrying his shoulder pole out the door.

Chen Ji strolled leisurely along the bluestone path toward the well, not in a hurry.

When he arrived at the well, he suddenly noticed that the oars, ropes, and wooden buckets at the wellhead had all been replaced with new ones, and even the well rim had been rebuilt with blue bricks.

After pondering for a moment, Chen Ji picked up the empty water buckets and walked out of the Chen residence.

After leaving Fuyou Street and walking towards Chang'an Avenue, I couldn't find a single well even after walking for two incense sticks' time. The officials and nobles of Fuyou Street, Xuanwumen Avenue, Chang'an Avenue, and Qipan Street had all enclosed their wells within their own homes.

Chen Ji continued westward until he crossed the Yuhe Bridge and entered Menlou Hutong, where he could see a dozen or so residents standing in a long queue at the wellhead.

The well rim and oars here were very old, and strangely so, they resembled the well on Ansel Street in Los Angeles. He wasn't in a hurry and patiently waited at the end of the line.

A young man walked past the well, and someone greeted him with a smile: "Good morning, Dr. Chen."

Chen Ji instinctively wanted to respond, but he realized halfway through opening his mouth that the other person wasn't calling him.

Just then, a small door at the entrance of the alley was pushed open, and a gentleman with a goatee came out. Immediately, someone approached him and asked, "Mr. Yang, are you reading the newspaper today?"

Mr. Yang, who had a goatee, said impatiently, "Reading the newspaper, reading the newspaper, you should read books and learn to read yourselves. What's the point of bothering me every day?"

An old man pointed at a young man in a white coat and said, "Erwa, fill Mr. Yang's water tank in a little while."

The young man replied, "Okay."

Mr. Yang hesitated for a moment, then finally sighed, "Where's the newspaper?"

The young man handed over a stack of Beijing Morning Posts: "This is yesterday's; today's hasn't arrived yet."

Mr. Yang unfolded the Beijing Morning Post and frowned as he looked at it: "Why bother reading this damn morning post? It's a vulgar newspaper produced by a brute and a street urchin. If you're going to read anything, read the evening post. Bring me yesterday's evening post."

A woman suddenly asked, "Mr. Yang, I heard that the Beijing Evening News was established by the third young lady of the Qi family specifically to challenge that man from Wuxiang County. Is that true?"

Another person stepped forward: "I also heard that the third young lady of the Qi family pays quite generously. The Morning Post pays 300 coins for a single line of writing, but the Qi family pays 500 coins."

"And another thing, someone said that Miss Qi San has declared that no one with an official title is allowed to write articles for the Morning Post, or else their title will be revoked. Is that true?"

The crowd crowded around Mr. Yang, asking him questions one after another.

Mr. Yang, growing impatient with the questioning, admitted, "That is indeed true."

One woman exclaimed, "Miss Qi is engaged to the man from Wuxiang County, why are they being so hostile?"

The young man beside him laughed and said, "The man from Wuxiang County started the Beijing Morning Post. The first issue's front page was about his legendary story of living and dying together with Miss Zhang. Miss Qi was so angry that she tore up several newspapers in the street. Later, Miss Qi instigated Wenyuan Bookstore to start an evening newspaper to compete with the morning newspaper. As a result, the man from Wuxiang County came to her door that very day, took the Hanlin scholar Lin Chaojing away, and used private torture. This feud is huge."

"How come I heard that Lin Chaojing is a spy for the Jing Dynasty?"

"Hey, the Chen family of Wuxiang County is incredibly powerful. It's easy for them to fabricate a baseless charge. Don't even mention the Hanlin Academy probationary official. What about his brother, Lin Chaoqing? Even the commander of the Jiefan Guard had to flee like a stray dog."

"Tsk, if you ask me, Miss Qi should not only challenge him, but also call off the engagement."

At this moment, everyone gathered around Mr. Yang, and even stopped fetching water. The long queue that had previously formed in front of Chenji was now completely empty.

He was happy to skip the queue, so he rowed his boat to draw water from the well, then picked up his carrying pole and made his way through the crowded throng, saying with a smile, "Excuse me, be careful not to spill water on your feet."

People around Mr. Yang quickly retreated, and Chen Ji, carrying a shoulder pole, walked several miles back to Ginkgo Garden with light steps.

When he arrived home, Xiaoman was setting breakfast on the stone table. Seeing him, she asked in surprise, "Young master, why did it take you so long to fetch water today?"

Chen Ji walked into the side room, leaned to the side and put down the carrying pole: "I walked a bit further today, to fetch water from Menlou Alley."

Xiaoman's eyes widened: "Why did you go so far to fetch water, young master?"

Chen Ji smiled and said, "It's more lively over there."

Xiaoman sat down at the stone table, propping her chin up as she ate, watching Chen Ji. "Young Master," she said, "the Gelaohui (a secret society) said that Miss Qi San has been spreading the word throughout Liulichang that all the new storybooks are first reviewed by the Evening Post, and they're sure to offer higher prices than other places. Now, many writers have gone to Wenyuan Bookstore. The previously popular 'The Talented Scholar of Jinling' and 'The General's Order' are both published in the Evening Post, and the common people are all drawn to buying their Evening Post."

Chen Ji ate his meal without saying a word, seemingly unconcerned. Xiao Man continued, "And another thing, all the poems written by the literati in the capital have been published in the evening paper. The young master of the Cui family published a Mid-Autumn Festival quatrain in the evening paper the day before yesterday, and it has spread throughout the capital. Even the maids in the Chen family are passing it around. Some people say..."

Chen Ji looked at Xiao Man's hesitant expression and asked, "What should I say?"

Xiaoman muttered to herself, "Some people say you're going to arrest the Cui family's young master again and use the law, but he said at the literary gathering yesterday that he wasn't afraid... Now many people are saying that Miss Qi is thinking of announcing her engagement, and the Cui family is trying to take advantage of this to climb the social ladder. Yesterday, the Cui family's young master gave Miss Qi a Akhal-Teke horse from the Western Regions. It's said that the Akhal-Teke horse's coat is pink and shines in the sun... This is clearly an attempt to outshine Sister Xia's Zaozao, but Zaozao is a dragon breed brought back from the north by Supervisor Xu. What's her Akhal-Teke horse compared to that..."

Chen Ji put down his chopsticks and interrupted with a smile, "Wouldn't it be a win-win situation if the Qi family could break off the engagement and form a marriage alliance with the Cui family?"

Xiaoman said unhappily, "But everyone in the capital will laugh at you. They're already spreading rumors about you. If the Qi family breaks off the engagement, it will only please them more."

Chen Ji calmly replied, "It's alright."

The young monk winked at Xiaoman, who quickly changed the subject: "Young master, the Mid-Autumn Festival is just a few days away. What kind of mooncake filling would you like to eat?"

Chen Ji asked curiously, "What kind of filling is it?"

Xiaoman pondered, "Ordinary families eat nuts or candied fruit, but wealthy families eat flaky pastry mooncakes with malt sugar. I heard there are even crab meat mooncakes. Not only mooncakes, but I also heard that Bianyifang is preparing osmanthus duck from Nanjing and braised taro from Suzhou. The banquets will be fully booked in the next few days."

Chen Ji said with a smile, "You can fill it with whatever filling you like, I don't care... As for that evening newspaper matter, let them do whatever they want, the secret police are still keeping their trump cards hidden."

……

……

Wen Yuan Bookstore.

Scholars and literati were engaged in lively discussions in the backyard, while in a corner, Qi Zhenzhu, her face veiled in white gauze, was gently plucking the strings of a zither.

Xu Bin, the owner of Wenyuan Bookstore, called his staff to bring over some fruits and said with a smile, "Gentlemen, water chestnuts from Jiangnan, pomelos from Huguang, and crisp pears from the North are all seasonal delicacies."

Yuan Wang of the Yuan family of Runan sat behind the table and cupped his hands in greeting: "Master Xu is too kind."

Yang Zhong of the Hongnong Yang clan, holding a manuscript of poetry, exclaimed in praise: "Pine needles glisten white in the night, heavy dew dampens the crickets' chirping. A thousand miles away, the moon shines over my hometown."
The moon shines brightest through the guest window. With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, Brother Yuan's piece, "The Moon Over My Hometown," truly captures the sorrow of us students from afar, unable to reunite with our families in Beijing. If it's published in the evening paper tomorrow, I'm afraid it will be met with widespread praise, eclipsing the morning paper.

Yuan Wang replied with a smile, "Brother Yang, you flatter me. I think your poem 'Azure Sea Tide' is better."

At this moment, they all looked at Cui Qinghe, the young master of the Cui family, who was writing poetry with his head down at the head of the table. They saw that he had just finished writing the last line and put his brush on the inkstone.

Yuan Wang couldn't wait to get up and walk over, picking up the Xuan paper to examine the poem: "Don't say that this heart is easily broken, the clear light does not rely on the whole heaven... What a fine line!"

Cui Qinghe said modestly, "You flatter me. It's a pity that Shen Ye, the top poet of the Tiger Hill Poetry Society, is not here, otherwise it would be my turn to show off."

Not far away, Qi Zhaoning said coldly, "Why bring him up? That Shen Ye, despite being the newly appointed top scholar, spends his days mingling with street thugs and prostitutes. What kind of behavior is that?"

Cui Qinghe replied with a smile, "Indeed, it is an insult to literature... Zhaoning, nowadays the morning paper can only sell more than three thousand copies a day, while the evening paper can sell more than six thousand copies a day, which is already firmly ahead of them."

Qi Zhaoning said in a deep voice, "It's not enough. I want them to not be able to sell a single one!"

Xu Bin grinned from ear to ear: "Miss Qi, it would be difficult for them to sell not a single one."

Qi Zhaoning raised her voice: "Even if it's difficult, we have to find a way!"

As they were talking, a servant ran into the backyard from outside, carrying a stack of bamboo paper: "Master, something terrible has happened..."

Qi Zhaoning suddenly stood up: "What's wrong?"

The servant said breathlessly, "Plum Blossom Ferry has even started its own evening newspaper, trying to compete with us."

Xu Bin's expression froze: "They've started another evening newspaper? How can they carve the printing plates so quickly? We have over forty carvers working through the night to carve just one copy. How can they publish both the morning and evening newspapers at the same time? Whose carvers did they poach?"

The servant shook his head: "I don't know."

Yuan Wang said with a smile, "Don't panic, Mr. Xu. Our evening paper has completely overshadowed theirs. What harm would it do if they started another evening paper? It would be futile... Let me see what they have written in their damn evening paper."

The servant handed the evening paper to Yuan Wang, who unfolded it and suddenly froze on the spot.

Cui Qinghe asked curiously, "What's wrong, Brother Yuan?"

As he drew closer, he heard Yuan Wang softly recite: "The bright moon rises over the sea, we share this moment though we are far apart..." (End of Chapter)