Just past the hour of Yin, the sky on the horizon had only just turned pale, and the mist on Vermilion Bird Street had not yet dispersed.
This prime location, usually deserted at this time, was now eerily packed with people.
The Zhishi Hall Bookstore, located on the corner of the street, had its two nanmu wood doors tightly shut, without even a crack showing.
But on the road outside the door, a long queue had already formed, completely blocking the path of the early morning market vendors.
The sight of this queue was enough to make one's scalp tingle.
Leading the charge were none other than the burly male and female servants from the major mansions.
They each clutched a cloth bag in their hands, their eyes fierce.
The people mixed in between them were even more eye-popping. Some wore veiled hats and wrapped themselves in cloaks, clearly young ladies from noble families who usually did not leave their homes.
There were even a few heavily made-up women, the pampered mistresses kept in outer residences by wealthy merchants from the south of the city.
In normal times, if a legal wife and a mistress ran into each other, they would definitely tear each other's faces off.
But today, although these people had dark circles under their eyes, obviously having not slept all night, they were surprisingly harmonious.
They only had their eyes fixed on the tightly shut doors, clutching bank notes in their hands, wishing they could squeeze water out of the paper.
"Excuse me, excuse me!"
A vendor carrying a load of steamed buns struggled to squeeze through the crowd.
He looked at these noble people shivering in the cold wind, his face full of confusion. He couldn't help but stop, put down his load, and wipe off his sweat.
"Big sister, what's going on today? This bookstore doesn't sell rice, what are you guys fighting for? Is the imperial court distributing grain?"
The vendor casually asked a maidservant at the end of the queue.
The maidservant, who was originally standing on her tiptoes looking forward, suddenly turned her head upon hearing this, her eyes wide round, a face full of disbelief.
"Distributing grain?"
The maidservant pushed away the steamed bun load that had come close, disgustedly patted the nonexistent dust on her sleeves, and said in a sharp voice: "What do you know, you steamed bun seller? That's spiritual food! Vulgar!"
Several women queuing around also turned their heads at the same time.
That kind of look was like looking at an uncivilized person.
"You don't even know Young Master Xu? You haven't even heard of Liang Zhu?"
"Distributing grain? Even if I starve to death, I must grab Young Master Xu's handwritten copy today!"
"Country bumpkin, go away, go away, don't block us from catching the fairy air!"
A flurry of mocking voices surged over. The vendor was scolded silly. He picked up his load and fled, muttering: "Crazy, they're all crazy..."
Just then, a heavy sound of door hinges turning came from inside the bookstore.
Creak—
This sound was more effective than a bugle call.
The initially somewhat sluggish crowd instantly exploded. Hundreds of pairs of eyes lit up in unison. The momentum that erupted at that moment was more terrifying than an army of thousands.
Li Sheng, wearing a new navy blue long gown with his hair combed back, slowly stepped out from the door.
He didn't hold an abacus or an account book in his hand, but had two assistants carry out a notice board covered with a red cloth and set it up at the door.
"Morning, everyone."
Li Sheng cupped his hands with a fake smile. That look was as punchable as could be.
"Cut the crap! Have you started selling yet!" A servant at the front of the queue had a hot temper and shouted until his voice was hoarse.
Li Sheng was not annoyed. He just pointed to the notice board, his expression meaning: Can you read?
The assistant pulled off the red cloth.
On it, a few lines of large characters were written with a cinnabar pen:
Today, the first release of the Liang Zhu isolated hardcover edition, limited to five hundred copies.
Each person is limited to one copy, no credit allowed.
Anyone who buys a book must recite a line of Young Master Xu's dialogue from last night. Those who cannot recite it, please go back!
"What? There's an exam too?" Someone in the crowd bristled.
Li Sheng slowly took out a sample book from his sleeve.
The book cover was not ordinary paper, but mounted with top-grade Suzhou embroidery brocade, embroidered with two butterflies.
He carefully opened the inner pages and pointed to a transparent thin wing sandwiched between the pages.
"See this? This is a fragment of a butterfly wing that fell from that miracle during the butterfly transformation scene last night."
"And these words." Li Sheng pointed to the rows of ink marks on the title page, "These are handwritten poems written by Young Master Xu with tears last night. Even in these ink marks, his tear stains are smudged."
"Five hundred copies, that's what Young Master Xu copied out with red eyes. As for that butterfly wing, it's a divine object that can only be encountered by chance."
"How is this a book? This is Young Master Xu's heart's blood!"
After Li Sheng finished speaking, he hugged the book to his chest, stretched out one palm, fingers spread wide, with a proud look.
"One price, five taels per copy!"
Hiss—!
A few idle men watching the fun by the street gasped, their eyes almost popping out.
"Five taels?! That's robbery!"
"Is this broken book trimmed with gold? You could buy a small house with a yard in the west of the city!"
"You'd have to be crazy to buy it. The Xu family is really crazy poor..."
Just as the idle men were waiting to see how these noble people would storm off and how this black-hearted bookstore would end up.
Smack!
A crisp sound.
The person at the very front of the queue was none other than Cousin-in-law Wang, who cried the hardest last night.
Today, she deliberately changed into a neat narrow-sleeved shirt. With a murderous look, she heavily slapped a hundred-tael bank note on the counter, shaking the wooden counter three times.
"Fifty taels? Who are you looking down on?"
Cousin-in-law Wang's eyes were red, obviously hasn't recovered from last night's crying. Her voice was hoarse but resounding: "Keep the change! Give me two copies!"
Li Sheng didn't even lift an eyelid, still with that expressionless look: "I said, one copy per person."
"You!" Cousin-in-law Wang was furious, but looking at Li Sheng's deadpan face, she forcefully held back her anger, took a deep breath, and began to recite.
"Brother Liang... You and I have no destiny in this life. After death, we must turn into a pair of butterflies..."
She recited with deep emotion, even bringing in the crying tone from last night.
"Pass." Li Sheng waved his hand, and a brocade book was handed over.
Cousin-in-law Wang treasured it like a priceless gem, taking the book with trembling hands. She was more careful than if she were holding an ancestral tablet.
She didn't care at all about the extra fifty taels of change. She tucked the book into her bosom and turned to leave.
However, the queue behind had already lost control.
"Hurry up! What are you dawdling for!"
"I want one too! I bid six taels!"
"Don't push! If you push again, I'll fight you!"
The previously somewhat orderly queue instantly collapsed, and the crowd surged crazily toward the counter.
Those burly servants didn't care about the impropriety of men and women touching anymore. They protected their young ladies and madams and charged forward; the usually dignified madams also disregarded their manners at this moment, their hairpins disheveled, desperately waving the bank notes in their hands.
"Give me a copy! I can recite it! 'In life or death, however separated, to our wives we pledged our word'!"
"That's the Book of Songs! Get out of the way! I want a copy too!"
The scene was chaotic for a time. Two servants even fought in the street over a spot, beating each other black and blue without giving an inch.
Li Sheng stood on the steps, looking at the crazy people below, a cold smile that he had long expected curling at the corner of his mouth.
The eldest miss was right. This hunger marketing is a knife that kills without shedding blood.
In less than half an hour.
Gone! Stop pushing! Sold out for today!
The shopkeeper roared, followed by a loud bang as he mercilessly hung up that glaring Sold Out wooden sign.
To the crowd, this announcement was like a bolt from the blue.
More than half the people in line hadn't managed to buy a copy. They stood rooted to the spot, looking as if they had lost their souls.
Gone? How can it be gone?
I lined up for four hours! I haven't even eaten breakfast!
Open the door! I don't believe it! You must have more in the back warehouse! I want to see Manager Li! I want to see Young Master Xu!
Some even tried to scale the wall into the backyard, only to be easily tossed out by the guards who had been lying in wait.
At the entrance of the bookstore, wails and cries filled the air, sounding even more miserable than the Hundred Flowers Pavilion last night.
Meanwhile, at the corner of the street.
A wealthy merchant who hadn't gone far, sticking out a large belly and covered in sweat, was blocking the path of the maid in green from earlier.
Miss, please wait, miss!
Panting heavily, the merchant pointed at the book tightly clutched in the maid's arms, his eyes full of greed. This book... sell it to me! I'll pay a hundred taels! Double the price!
The maid stopped and looked the man up and down, taking in his stench of money.
In the past, she wouldn't have even dared to lift her head in the presence of such a master.
But today, what she held in her arms was Young Master Xu's lifeblood, a sacred relic owned by only five hundred people in the entire city.
The maid straightened her back, tilted her chin up slightly, and revealed an extremely contemptuous smile.
A hundred taels?
She scoffed coldly, looking at him as if he were an incurably vulgar peasant. This has Young Master Xu's tear stains on it! You dare to measure its worth with something as filthy as silver? Vulgar! Utterly vulgar!
With that, the maid flipped her braid and walked away without looking back, leaving the merchant frozen in place. His face turned red and white by turns as he was pointed at and mocked by the surrounding people who also hadn't bought the book, laughing at him for not understanding elegance.
The crowd gradually dispersed, but reluctant to go far, they gathered in twos and threes along the street, discussing last night's plot and today's regrets.
A gust of wind blew past, rolling up a trampled promotional flyer from the ground.
It was a piece of scrap paper covered in footprints, long trampled by the crowd, with only a few fragmented lines from the Butterfly Lovers printed on it.
A passing down-and-out old scholar, wearing an old long gown washed until it was white, was staggering along with a jug of cheap wine in his hand.
He looked at the mess on the ground and the crowd going crazy over a mere actor, his face full of disdain and contempt.
Morals are declining day by day... the hearts of men are not what they used to be... A bunch of foolish women, acting so shamelessly for an actor...
The old scholar muttered as he habitually tried to kick away the piece of scrap paper.
But the moment his toe touched the paper, his eyes inadvertently swept over the two lines of text on it—
Rainbows stretch for thousands of miles, a hundred flowers bloom; among the flowers, butterflies fly in pairs.
Inseparable for thousands of years and generations to come, Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai.
The old scholar's movements stopped.
As if possessed, he bent down, not minding the dirt, and picked up the paper with his wrinkled hands, blowing the dust off it.
His gaze moved down:
Wordless before you, sharing a cup of water with my lord. Within the clarity lies deep affection, flowing out to intoxicate the heart. Regardless of whether it is a grievance or fate, speak not of the butterfly's dream.
The old scholar's hands began to tremble.
He continued reading.
In his cloudy old eyes, the original contempt and disdain gradually faded away, leaving only extreme shock and even reverence.
This... this is no vulgar, erotic tune...
The old scholar's lips quivered as he repeatedly chewed over those few lines, his expression complex.
This is clearly... this is clearly an essay written with blood and tears! It is written so beautifully!
This Xu Zijin... actually possesses such literary talent?! Or is it that County Princess Xu?
The old scholar suddenly raised his head and looked at the Zhishi Hall that had just closed its doors.
He thought to himself: The world of scholars in Jiangning City is probably about to be turned upside down.
The old scholar tightly gripped the scrap paper and turned to run towards his home, not even caring that the jug of wine he had just bought was spilling all over the ground.
I have to go back... I have to go back and tell those old fogeys...
Something huge has happened!
