Four days ago.`

West of Wuhou City, Huashu Pavilion.

The drizzle drizzles like silk, dripping along the eaves. Pedestrians may wear straw raincoats, hold oil umbrellas, or walk forward quickly without any rain.

Manager Liu stood in front of the door, looking at the two cars of books outside the store, just like the current weather.

A thousand books in the printing workshop were printed and all sent here. But Li Xianyuan went out far away yesterday and had no news. He even asked him to solve the problem.

Manager Liu stepped out of the door and came to the carriage. The guy hurriedly followed with an oil umbrella.

The carriage was covered with a layer of oil cloth to prevent the rain, and Manager Liu lifted a corner, and the ink smelled loud.

Manager Liu took out a book with three regular scripts written on the cover. There is also a small font on one side: The Heavenly Palace is in trouble.

The book is lined and full of ancient charm. Manager Liu opened it, skipped the title page, and turned to the content of the first page.

[Chapter 1: The spiritual roots are nurtured and the source of the birth of the great way of cultivation of the mind and nature]

The poem says:

Chaos are not divided into chaos, and no one sees the vastness.

Since Pangu broke through Hongmeng, he has developed the distinction between the clear and turbidity.

It brings all living beings to be kind, and it is clear that all things are good.

If you want to know the achievements of fortune, you must read the passage of the Dissertation of the Misfortune when you Journey to the West.

After glanced a few times, Manager Liu closed the book and threw it back to the carriage.

"Scholars are eventually scholars. I have to write a few poems to write a novel of strange ambitions."

Manager Liu shook his head. Although Li Xianyuan was famous, he had already gained fame in Shuntian County and even the Da Shang Dynasty. The scholars studied the meaning of his poems and regarded them as famous masters. There were even many famous scholars among them. But after all, he had a shallow foundation, and at a young age, he had no experience, so it was hard to imagine that he would write a good story.

Manager Liu walked back to the shop and said to the clerk who was holding an umbrella beside him: "Hand a stall outside the door and a sign. He wrote a case of Tongsheng, a poem about both weather and vision, and a novel about a strange story written by the sixth-rank Guanneihou of the Great Shang Dynasty. As for the price... it will be sold for a hundred citations."

A novel about a novel about a genius is really expensive. Most of the people who buy books are literati and poets. They will choose books such as "Poetry Stickers", "Couplets", "Talks of the World", and "Records of the Grand Historian", and few people buy novels about a genius. Most of those novels about a genius are civilians or people who have leisure time. But they are not willing to spend a genius to buy a genius novel to read.

According to what Manager Liu thought, these books could only be sold for dozens of them. They were all for Li Xianyuan’s fame, so they didn’t take them seriously.

The matter was almost as expected. The guy moved the book into the back library and set up a book stall in front of the door. After a few hours, only a few people came to ask, one of them was still illiterate. He asked him what he asked if he couldn't read. He also answered with a verbal answer that he saw the big words in the sign and was curious.

The people who were interested asked about the price of the book and shook their heads and left. The price of one hundred essays was obviously not within their scope of responsibility.

It was not until the afternoon that the first book buyer came.

This man was young in brocade clothes and had a good appearance. When asked if it was written by Li Xianyuan, he bought one.

The guy sighed very relievedly, and he didn't waste his whole day, at least he sold one.

...

The rain stopped, wandered along the street, and a little beggar ran towards him, hitting the young man in brocade clothes.`

"I'm sorry, sir, sorry..." The little beggar got so hard that he fell down his butt, and got up to apologize.

The young man in brocade touched his pocket in his arms and was still there. He said, "It's okay, don't run around next time."

The little beggar nodded quickly and ran away not far. He secretly looked back and saw that the young man didn't pay attention to this place and got into an alley.

The little beggar secretly took out the things in his arms, which was a brand new book in line.

After muttering, he was in vain again, and the little beggar left the book casually and left the alley.

Bang-

The new Journey to the West with the fragrance of ink smashed into the soft mud, and the thin paper was permeated by you...

A thin palm suddenly picked it up and shook it off the soil.

"Who left the book here?"

This is a thin middle-aged man, with a goatee and a long blue gown. His shoulders were wet with water dripping from the eaves, making them darker in color.

He looked around and saw that there was no one, and he shook his head and temporarily put away the book. He walked along the way and came to an ordinary residential house.

"Chengfu, are you back so early today?" As soon as I returned to the yard, I heard my wife's voice coming from the house.

Xu Chengfu sighed: "There are fewer and fewer customers who have been rewarding money recently. I can't earn a few copper coins a day, so why are I still there?"

His voice was ups and downs and had a particularly sensation.

A woman walked out of the room with a soft face: "Is it still so unrest?"

Xu Chengfu nodded: "You can do it first, I will think of some solutions when I go back to my room."

Back in the bedroom, I threw the book I picked up in the corner and sat at the table to meditate.

Storytelling is a brain-powered job. If the story you tell is not attractive, it is useless no matter how much you say it. But the story is not that easy to find, nor is it that easy to think about.

Xu Chengfu leaned in front of the desk, grinding ink and picking up paper and lifting the pen, and writing one piece after another.

It was dusk in a blink of an eye. My wife called out from outside the door.

"Chengfu, it's time to have a meal."

"I understand." Xu Chengfu responded and put his pen down. He said to himself: "Let's do it first, if it doesn't work..."

After dinner, take off your clothes early and rest.

Early the next morning, Xu Chengfu came to the inn. The lobby was very deserted.

Most of the business of Wuhoucheng Inn is neglected, and the only thing that has become lively is Minglang Inn. Since learning about the child's voice, Li Xianyuan, the Marquis of Guannei, has been full of people every day, and the seats are in short supply.

As usual, Xu Chengfu came to the stage and knocked on the gavel.

Several guests were talking about the guests, and Xu Chengfu coughed lightly: "I said last time..."

...

"I was so angry that I screamed. What did he say? If you want to know what happened next, please listen to the next time-"

Bang-

Xu Chengfu beat the gavel heavily.

"break down!"

No one applauded, only the sound of wine glasses colliding and the sound of bowls and chopsticks colliding.

Looking at the dozen people doing scattered in the inn, and then looking at the only copper plate in the basin in front of him. Xu Chengfu smiled bitterly, took out the copper plate and wiped it on his body, and put it in his sleeve.

A day's income, from morning to dusk.

...

"I'm back." With heavy steps, Xu Chengfu turned around and closed the yard gate.

The drizzle fell, and the blue smoke rose from each house's chimney, making a hazy feeling.

"Husband..." The wife walked out of the inner room.

Xu Chengfu smiled bitterly and took out the copper coin from his sleeve and shook it: "I made a copper coin one day today."

The woman looked worried, and Xu Chengfu waved her hand and said nothing happened: "I heard that Lang Inn is lively, I'll try it there tomorrow."

Xu Chengfu returned to the room and exhaled a deep breath of turbid air. After a long sigh, he sighed.

"It's hard..."

A ray of inspiration suddenly passed through his mind. Xu Chengfu sat upright slightly, looked around in confusion, and then looked slightly at the book he picked up yesterday.

He picked up this book and threw it in the corner and forgot it. But he remembered it again for some reason.

Xu Chengfu reached out to pick up the book. The cover of the book was covered with yellow mud and could not be seen clearly. Only a small line of characters below marked the author's name.

"Li Xianyuan?"

Xu Chengfu was so lightly.
Chapter completed!