12dz Chapter 792 Huiwen Bookstore
Chapter 792 Huiwen Bookstore
There's a type of mentor-apprentice relationship that says, "No explanation needed, I trust you!"
The relationship between Chu Rujun and Lin Ping was this kind of attempted relationship.
She didn't ask Lin Ping what he was doing or what he planned to do in the coming year. She even wanted to keep Lin Ping's secret and not let Jiang Yunying know that he was in Shuntian Prefecture.
After a thrilling reunion, Lin Ping saw them off.
The reason was simple: he needed to conceal his identity. He couldn't reveal his identity as the Grand General of the Wu Kingdom, or he would suffer a terrible death.
For the next few days, Kyoto remained calm, and the people simply had more to talk about.
The delegation that had come from afar seemed uninterested in this vast capital city, rarely venturing out except to purchase necessities every now and then.
After all, they are royalty and nobles, and they need to maintain a high-class image. What if they get into a fight with thugs here?
Of course, staying indoors didn't mean they weren't concerned about the situation here; almost every mission sent out spies to secretly learn about every blade of grass and tree in the city.
The final result was astonishing; the wealth here was comparable to that of a certain country.
The Wu Kingdom delegation remained relatively calm. The Lianghuai region has been a granary of the nation since ancient times, and the people there are very wealthy. In addition, Lin Ping's recent major moves have caused Wu Kingdom's wealth to rise sharply.
Therefore, Wu Guo did not envy the wealth here at all.
The prince of Zhu Kingdom did not show envy in his eyes, but rather a sinister smile, as if he were quite satisfied.
The delegation from the Western India was listless and uninterested in the wealth here; they placed all their hopes on the list of extraordinary people.
The little monkeys of Nanwu Kingdom are much more interesting to watch than the Indians of Liangzhu Kingdom, jumping and leaping around.
"Monkey, do you want a banana?"
"I like to eat it raw, but fully cooked!"
As the main figures who issued the list, the members of Chiyang Pavilion seemed to have vanished into thin air; who knows if they are still in Shuntian Prefecture?
Before the storm arrives, the sky is calm, as if a hidden hand is secretly manipulating things.
Unbeknownst to many, a street in Xiaoshi Yongfang had become deserted, and the last shop's signboard had fallen down.
At this point, the entire street was deserted and lifeless.
This was once Xiaoyongfang, the CBD of Kyoto, where every inch of land was incredibly valuable, yet now it's left idle.
The quiet and deserted situation lasted only one day. Then, a large number of craftsmen poured in, and the entire street was repaired at the same time.
Such a scene makes one wonder if this is actually a boss.
The next day, the signboard on the street was changed, and it read "Huiwen Street" in three large characters.
To change the name of a street, you need the consent of everyone on that street. Without a doubt, this is a business owner.
The news spread rapidly throughout Kyoto, even overshadowing the list of extraordinary people.
Many people come here because of its reputation, wanting to see what's inside.
Construction ahead, please detour!
Three more days passed, and the curious crowd left disappointed.
That evening, the obstructions on the street were cleared away, but only one shop had its lights on.
This shop was rather strange; the lights placed outside illuminated the entire street, completely unaffected by the cold wind.
A young man dressed as a scholar walked in curiously and was dazzled by the light inside.
This is because the pupils haven't had time to shrink yet.
He never imagined that the room would be as bright as day, as if it contained a sun—no, it should be several suns.
The young man composed himself and began to observe carefully.
These lights, as bright as day, were indeed rare. The flames were not dark red, but golden, even with a slight white tinge.
The lamp has a transparent cover that not only blocks the wind but also focuses the light.
"May I ask how much this lamp costs?" the young master asked hastily, unable to contain his curiosity.
As a Confucian scholar, he understood all too well the importance of a guiding light, which could improve his study efficiency at night and bring him one step closer to becoming the top scholar in the imperial examination.
"The lamp seller is across the street, but they haven't opened for business yet." The young shopkeeper sat on a high stool, holding a copy of "Jin Ping Mei" in his hands, engrossed in reading it.
"I understand, I understand." The scholar nodded, knowing that the shopkeeper had used a back door to buy lanterns in advance.
"By the way, the shop that sells lamps and the shop that sells lampshades are not the same shop. The shop that sells lampshades is next door, and it also opens tomorrow," the shopkeeper replied as he noticed.
Normally, shopkeepers should warmly welcome customers, but the shopkeeper across the street was engrossed in reading and never looked up.
"Could it be... a good book?"
Out of curiosity, the Confucian scholar peeked at the illustrations inside and inadvertently saw them.
The scholar's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly asked, "Where did you buy this book?"
The shopkeeper pointed to the signboard, still keeping his head down.
The scholar left the shop and looked up to see four large characters written above: "Huiwen Shuzhai".
Furthermore, below the plaque on the door is a poem: "If only life were as beautiful as our first meeting," on the right, and "Why does the autumn wind bring sorrow to the painted fan?" on the left.
"Excellent poem, excellent poem!" the scholar exclaimed, then asked with a devout expression, "I wonder if you sell this book? Even just the illustrations are fine; money is no object!"
The shopkeeper patted the chair next to him, making a "pat pat pat" sound, indicating that the scholar should lie down—no, no, he should sit down.
The Confucian scholar did as instructed.
The shopkeeper casually tossed out a book of poems.
The scholar opened it as if it were a precious treasure, but couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. The poem was well-written, but there were no illustrations.
In other words, he had no interest in reading poetry; he was only thinking about illustrations.
"I still want the one you have," the scholar insisted.
The shopkeeper closed the book, with the words "Not for Sale" written in small print on the cover.
The Confucian scholar understood, and couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed.
"This tea is refreshing and calming." The shopkeeper handed over a cup of fragrant tea.
This tea has a bright and clear color. Although it is not as noble as matcha, it exudes a more refined and otherworldly quality.
Confucian scholars love this kind of thing, being extraordinary and detached from worldly affairs, isn't that exactly what describes us?
The golden tea liquor gently caresses the entire mouth along the tip of the tongue, its delicate fragrance intoxicating.
After savoring his tea for a long time, the scholar, feigning expertise, asked, "Is this tea made using the technique of letting the tea flow down the side of the cup?"
The shop owner wanted to curse, but was afraid he wouldn't give him advertising, so he could only smile and reply:
"This tea is made from the buds of century-old tea trees grown high in the mountains in early spring, undergoing seventy-two processes and eighty-one days of brewing... blah blah blah."
The shopkeeper said he was a little thirsty, so he snatched the teacup from the scholar and drank it all in one gulp.
"Indeed, this is excellent tea." The scholar praised it repeatedly. "Please tell me this is for drinking tea, so I can come and buy some tomorrow."
"A name? I haven't thought of one yet..." the shopkeeper muttered to himself, racking his brains for a name.
"I've got it!" The shopkeeper had a flash of inspiration and excitedly snapped his fingers. "How about oolong tea?"
"That's a rather strange name." The scholar tried hard to remember the name, left excitedly, and successfully bought an illustration.