After shaking his head and agonizing for quite a while, Liu Ziyuan gritted his teeth and shut his eyes.
“No can do, no matter what. I have to think about her future.”
Song Anhao stared at him in confusion. “If you’re thinking about the future, then you should write even more. Without silver, there’s no future to speak of.”
The house they lived in was a mud-brick hut in the village, roofed with thatch, and looking around, the place was bare as bare could be.
If they didn’t earn money and kept living this hard life, that would be even dumber than Snowball.
From the look on Song Anhao’s face, Liu Ziyuan could tell what he was thinking, and blushing, he said, “I can already earn money now. The days ahead will only get better and better.”
Song Anhao blurted out, “But your sister’s storybooks are far more popular. She earns more than you do.”
Liu Ziyuan’s lips opened and closed, but the words got stuck in his throat.
Seeing him like that, Song Anhao simply turned his gaze to Liu Ruoxi.
“Do you want to write? For your next book, I’ll raise your payment tenfold, and on top of that, I’ll give you an extra five coppers per copy sold. If we sell another hundred-plus thousand copies, that’s several thousand taels of silver. Even ten thousand isn’t impossible.”
Just thinking about earning tens of thousands of taels sent a thrill through Liu Ruoxi’s heart.
She clenched her fists and nodded firmly, answering without hesitation, “I’ll write. I’ll keep writing.”
Seeing the determination in his sister’s eyes, Liu Ziyuan grew angry and frustrated, panting heavily as he lifted his head to stare at the roof beam.
Seeing how displeased he was, Song Anhao tried to soothe him. “To be honest, I actually prefer your “Cry for Redress.” Compared to other storybooks on the market, it’s already very well received.”
“Your sister’s writing is different from yours — hers are bought by ladies of wealthy households and young misses from inner chambers. You two each have your own strengths — a pair of blades in one scabbard.”
This only made Liu Ziyuan feel even more speechless. He had no energy left to argue with Song Anhao, and just wished he would leave quickly so he could talk some sense into his sister.
Worried that Liu Ziyuan might stop his sister from writing after he left, Song Anhao smiled at Liu Ruoxi before departing and left her with one remark.
“My elder sister is still waiting for your new storybook. Write quickly.”
Liu Ruoxi’s face was practically glowing with joy, the corners of her mouth upturned to reveal a few teeth.
“I’ll write quickly for sure. I’ll come find you at the bookshop then.”
Song Anhao left, looking thoroughly content, as though he had settled some major matter.
After watching the carriage go until it disappeared, Liu Ziyuan whirled around.
He stared at Liu Ruoxi with a thunderous face.
Seeing this, Liu Ruoxi took a deep breath and forced a light tone as she turned away.
“County Princess Linghui is waiting on my next storybook. I’d better write quickly now.”
Liu Ziyuan’s head was buzzing. He stood there staring at the closed door for a long time without moving.
After who knows how long, Liu Ruoxi suddenly opened the door again.
“If the wives and daughters of rich households can read it, then there’s no problem with me writing it either.”
“Once we’ve earned enough silver, don’t talk about people looking down on us — the doorstep will be worn down by matchmakers lining up.”
Liu Ziyuan’s temples throbbed, a dull ache spreading around his entire head.
“If Father and Mother were still alive, they would blame me.”
Liu Ruoxi replied, “If Father and Mother were still alive, the first thing they’d worry about would be your marriage. At your age and still unmarried — the Liu family line is about to come to an end.”
With a bang, she slammed the door shut, leaving Liu Ziyuan outside stomping his feet in frustration.
Meanwhile, the bookshop’s workers had been putting in overtime for two weeks straight, delivering two hundred thousand copies of the book to Songzhou City ahead of schedule.
Of those, one hundred fifty thousand were to be handed to Yue Dongqun. The remaining fifty thousand were orders from other bookstores around the southwest province, with three or four urgent requests on record. Manager Lou had nearly gone back to Suining City himself to keep a close eye on the printing presses.
