In Gu Baozhu’s room, the two of them sat on round stools, discussing their flower-viewing plans for the next day.
“There won’t just be a vast sea of flowering crabapple trees. There’s also a strange and spectacular forest of cloud-wreathed stone pillars, many of which are engraved with poems—all written by scholars who have earned the juren degree.”
“The flowers are at their peak these days, so plenty of people go there every day for spring outings and picnics in the open. But I know a beautiful spot where hardly anyone goes. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”
“Before we set out, we’ll stop by Ruyi Study to buy some food. Then we can spread out a mat and sit right there. We can even fly kites over the lake.”
Song Shixue listened, nodding from time to time and giving a soft “Mm.”
By the time Song Anhao led Xuetuan over, the teapot on their table had already been replaced once.
“How did the sparring go?” Song Shixue asked with a smile, turning her head toward him.
After patting Xuetuan on the head and letting it lie down on the floor, Song Anhao sat down and said, “We had only just started when Sister Baozhu’s eldest nephew arrived. He gave Brother Jinghong a good scolding and even wanted to take me to observe classes and exchange ideas at Songzhou Academy, so I hurried back.”
At that, Gu Baozhu pulled the corners of her mouth into a smile. “Congwen has loved reading since he was little. Apart from eating, washing, and sleeping, he spends every hour of the day immersed in poetry and books. Whenever he meets someone talented, he wants to strike up a conversation with them.”
Noticing the many books arranged on the shelf beside the folding screen, Song Anhao immediately spotted a new storybook written by Liu Ruoxi.
“Sister Baozhu, may I look at those?” Many of the titles were ones Song Anhao had never seen in the bookstores of Suining City.
Song Shixue glanced at the storybooks on the shelf and gave him a knowing smile.
“Ever since the Peach Blossom Hermit published the second volume of her story, many books with similar plots have appeared in Songzhou City. Those are the ones I bought recently.”
Song Anhao walked over and casually pulled out a book. The cover bore the title The Story of Yun Niang, differing from The Story of Qin Niang by only one character.
He sat down and opened to the first page. It was another tale of household intrigue. The writing was relatively rough, but the plot moved quickly, making it the same sort of book as The Story of Qin Niang.
After reading the first third, Song Anhao had a general idea of what it was about. He returned the book to its place, picked up another, and opened it.
They were all exactly the same type—nothing more than imitations.
The more Song Anhao read, the heavier his heart became. He closed the book and sat there in a daze.
“Why haven’t I seen these kinds of books in the bookstores of Suining City?”
Gu Baozhu shook her head with a smile.
“Everyone knows that the author who pioneered The Story of Qin Niang may be from Suining City. Your Song family is the most powerful family in Suining Prefecture, so who would dare sell imitations there?”
“But don’t worry. These books aren’t as well written as the Peach Blossom Hermit’s. They’re merely substitutes for passing the time. Some of them are so dull that they make people want to doze off while reading.”
Song Shixue took the dark-blue book from Song Anhao’s hands and opened it.
After a moment, she looked up and said, “There’s a bit too much pointless chatter, but it’s readable enough. I just don’t know how well it sells.”
Song Anhao bit his lips tightly, his thoughts in complete disarray.
“I’ll visit the bookstores in the city tomorrow morning, then come find you two around noon.”
When he had more money than he knew how to spend, Song Anhao had found life rather dull. Now that he knew someone was trying to take a share of his business, he was anxious again.
As they chatted, nearly an hour passed. A maid from Gu Baozhu’s courtyard entered and said, “Miss, lunch has been served.”
Gu Baozhu rose with a smile. “Come on, let’s eat in the reception hall.”
Afraid things might become awkward—and because Song Anhao was still young—she had already spoken with Madam Gu. Whenever Song Shixue visited, they would dine separately in her courtyard.
