A Maid's Survival Story in a Noble Family Mansion? Rich Landlords Are More Appealing.

The curtain swayed gently before settling still, keeping the red figure and clear voice out of the bustling street outside.

The bookstore was once again enveloped in the tranquil fragrance of ink.

Shopkeeper Qian Bo did not immediately tidy up the counter. Instead, he picked up the one tael and five mace of silver he had just received, turned around, and walked out with a gentle smile on his face to the quiet corner behind the screen.

He gently placed the silver coins on the tea table, sat down on the stool opposite him, and looked at the slender young man in front of him.

"Yan Ning, the master asked me to pass on a message," Uncle Qian said in a gentle tone, sounding somewhat embarrassed, "the second volume of 'Night Rain Picking Puppet Records' can no longer be printed using woodblocks; the market is really slow."

The landlord felt very bad, thinking that your hard work had been wasted, and asked you not to take it to heart. He also mentioned that if any customers wanted to buy the second volume, he was thinking of selling handwritten copies directly. What did he think?

Wang Yanning had already put down his pen. Upon hearing this, his handsome face showed no anger, but rather a slight apology.

He shook his head, his voice clear and calm: "Uncle Qian is too kind. It is I who should feel bad. For the last volume, Uncle Qian made an exception and went ahead with the woodblock printing for me, but we failed to break even and the bookstore lost money. I have been feeling uneasy about this ever since."

My uncle and brother Wenbai have treated me kindly, often giving me the work of copying books to support my livelihood. When I first wrote a story, my uncle didn't even have a teacher evaluate it; he directly gave me a printing block. Now he even allows me to place the manuscript here. This is already an immense favor.”

He shook his head, his brows revealing his usual calm as he spoke frankly, without any hint of resentment or blame. He simply stated the facts: "It's just that I'm not good at this, so it's normal that I can't earn money. I'm already very grateful that you don't blame me, so how could I have any complaints?"

Uncle Qian sighed and comforted him, "Don't say that. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Your writing has its own style, it's just that it's hard to find a kindred spirit. Look, hasn't a perfect match come along today?"

He paused, then changed the subject, his tone becoming lighter, "Besides, you're quick-witted and full of ideas, not the kind of person who just knows how to study by rote."

Putting everything else aside, the idea you came up with for our boss a few years ago—the lantern festival with riddles and prizes—was a huge help to him.

In recent years, thanks to this, Jufulou's reputation has grown increasingly prominent, and its business has flourished year after year. Now, in Ruyang County, it has firmly surpassed the other restaurants and is poised to become the top dog. The owner has privately praised you quite a bit, saying you have talent, and that our Brother Bai is incredibly lucky to befriend you and be inspired by you.

When the success of Jufulou was mentioned, Wang Yanning's expression relaxed slightly, and a very faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of her mouth:

"It was just idle chatter with Brother Wenbai during my leisure time. If it can be of any benefit to Uncle Shi's restaurant, then it's not entirely useless. This matter is not worth mentioning; it's all thanks to Uncle Shi's skillful management and willingness to implement it."

"You're always so humble."

Uncle Qian smiled and shook his head, pushing the silver on the table toward him. "Keep this money safe. It was paid by that young lady. The owner said that all proceeds from your handwritten copy belong to you, and the bookstore will not take a penny."

Spring is just around the corner, and the college entrance exams will be held soon. You should save up some money so you can use it on your way to the exams, buy some essential items, or purchase some good books.

Our boss said that if you refuse to accept it and are still thinking about the consignment money, then you don't treat him like a close friend. In that case, you can take the item, but we at Jufulou are too embarrassed to use your idea.”

Wang Yanning did not refuse upon hearing this, and silently put the silver into his pocket. The one tael and five qian, carrying a slightly unfamiliar warmth, felt heavy against his chest.

He stood up and bowed deeply to Uncle Qian: "Thank you, Uncle Qian. Please also convey my thanks to Uncle Zhou for his continued care. I have finished writing the riddles and couplets that Jufulou will need today. Please send someone to deliver them to them later. I will come back to collect the other copying work when I return tomorrow."

"Go on, be careful on the road." Qian Boci said, watching him go.

Wang Yanning nodded, turned around and slowly walked out of the bookstore, stepping into the gradually slanting afternoon sunlight.

The bustling sounds of preparations for the Lantern Festival swept through the streets. He subconsciously looked up and gazed at the end of the main street, where the eaves of each shop were already adorned with countless exquisite lanterns.

His fingers twitched slightly inside his sleeve. He lowered his eyes and merged into the ordinary crowd, his slender figure gradually disappearing into the distance.

After leaving the Moxiangzhai, Chen Wanxing, holding the book that seemed to carry warmth in her hand, didn't linger any longer and led Han Feng straight to the inn not far away.

Chen Wanxing asked for a quiet superior room. "Come pick me up at the inn at 3:45 PM." Chen Wanxing reminded Han Feng again at the door and instructed, "We'll go straight to Jufulou for dinner and lantern viewing then."

"Yes, young lady." Han Feng bowed and went to make the arrangements.

Closing the door shut out the faint sounds of the city outside, and the room immediately became quiet. Chen Wanxing placed the newly bought books on the table by the window before closing the window.

She washed her hands in the basin, intending to lie down for a while to rest and rejuvenate, but when her gaze fell on the plain white-covered handwritten copy of "Night Rain Picking Puppet Records" on the table, the thoughts that had been stirred in her heart could no longer be suppressed.

With nothing else to do, she leaned back in the armchair by the window and, in the bright daylight, opened the first page of Volume Two.

Unlike the uniformity of woodblock printing, handwritten characters carry a subtle personal rhythm. The transitions between strokes and the variations in ink density make the reading experience more vivid and intimate.

She quickly became engrossed in the story, which continued from Volume One. The origin of the mysterious wooden puppet was gradually revealed, and it turned out to be related to an incident from decades ago...

Chen Wanxing observed very carefully. The story was bizarre, and the author had planted many foreshadowing elements, causing her to stop and speculate from time to time.

She was so engrossed in watching that when the waiter quietly brought her hot water and knocked on the door to remind her to wash up, she only gave a vague reply.

Outside the window, the sun's shadow moved silently westward, gradually transforming into a long, slanting sunset with a warm golden hue, casting ever-changing patches of light on the floor through the window paper.

It wasn't until the end of Volume Two, when the wooden beam vanished in a great fire, leaving only a charred piece of pear wood, and the narrator "Yu" held the broken piece of wood, facing the cold river alone, feeling lost and bewildered, that Chen Wanxing suddenly pulled himself out of that desolate world.

She let out a long sigh, closed the book, her heart filled with the story. Looking out the window, she was suddenly startled. The sky, which had been bright just moments before, was now tinged with a faint twilight. The noise from the distant streets seemed to have changed, adding a touch of restlessness and anticipation as night approached.

She hurriedly got up and looked at the water clock in the corner of the room. The time had already reached the beginning of the Shen hour, which was only a quarter of an hour away from the third quarter of the Shen hour that she had agreed to meet with Han Feng.

I had originally planned to take a short rest, but I was unexpectedly captivated by this handwritten book and read the entire volume in one go, even forgetting the time.

"I was so engrossed in watching it..." Chen Wanxing shook her head and chuckled, then touched her empty stomach, realizing she was starving. The soup noodles she had at noon had long since been digested.

That's good, though. It saves me the trouble of resting, and I can go straight to the restaurant to enjoy the long-awaited dishes.

Without further delay, she quickly washed and tidied herself up with the still-warm water in the basin. Just as she finished, Han Feng knocked on the door precisely on time and with restraint.

"Young lady, the time has come."

"Come in," Chen Wanxing replied, her tone filled with anticipation for the upcoming food and lantern festival. "Bring everything with you; we'll head to Jufulou now."

Pushing open the door, I saw that the lights in the inn's corridor were already on.

The sky over the county town was rapidly darkening, while in the distance, from the direction of the main street, one by one, dazzling lights were lighting up, like a galaxy spilling onto earth. The real excitement of the Lantern Festival night was just beginning.