Hearing Fan Sizhe proudly declare, "This is just small change. Once I've earned this first batch, brother can write another seventy or eighty chapters. Then, instead of selling it cheaply, we'll carefully edit it, create a limited edition, and auction it off privately. Highest bidder gets it. Whoever wants to see the ending first, whoever wants to know if Auntie Duo finally marries Bao Er Ye, has to cough up the silver."

Fan Xian twisted his ear, scolding, "What does Auntie Duo have to do with Bao Er Ye? You haven't even read the book and you're already trying to sell it!"

Fan Sizhe said aggrievedly, "I asked my sister for the one you bought on the street yesterday and read it, but... I only read a few dozen words before I found it terribly boring, so I fell asleep." This young master of the Fan household, wholly absorbed in the pursuit of money, genuinely couldn't understand why the women of Kyoto were so madly fond of this bland thing.

"Alright, I won't argue with you about this," Fan Xian said helplessly. "It's just that these matters are complicated. You're just a child, and you have to attend school. Where will you find the time to do all this? Let's wait a few years before we talk about it."

"A few years? The day lilies will be cold by then!" Fan Sizhe shrieked in alarm.

"Then what else can we do? After all, you're a member of the Fan family. If you were to openly engage in business, how could we hide it from Concubine Liu and Father? Be careful they don't skin you alive."

Fan Sizhe said in great distress, "Yes, so I've decided to borrow a manager from Qing Yu Tang. I'll just have to stay hidden behind the scenes."

Fan Xian was truly surprised. Besides his unreasonable and overbearing temperament, this young man possessed such talent in business. He'd actually thought of hiring a professional manager. Excited, he unconsciously let the words "Qing Yu Tang" slip by.

Seeing that the little fellow's mind was made up, he sighed, took out the silver notes he had accumulated over the years, plus the allowance his sister gave him, handed them over, and told him to take it slowly. First, he should discuss it with the hangers-on in the mansion; keeping those people around without using them was also not a good thing.

Fan Sizhe counted the notes with a beaming face, discovering that his older brother was quite wealthy. Adding that to his own savings, the initial start-up capital should be just about enough.

Fan Xian said nothing more, only carefully reminding him, "To navigate upper-level connections and suppress the lower classes, besides relying on Father's name, you have to offer others some benefits."

"Brother, what are you saying?" Fan Sizhe said fiercely. "Bribes will naturally be given. If you become a high official in the future, there will always be a day when they have to spit it all back out."

Fan Xian nearly fainted. He hurriedly pushed open the door and left. He had always thought that silver notes had a unique fragrance, but today he realized that the stench of money was indeed overpowering.

————————————————————

It was just past noon, and the sunlight was intensely fierce. The trees lining the road were drooping listlessly, unable to offer the pitiful pedestrians any comfort or shade.

Fan Xian stood by the roadside, sipping a bowl of sour plum juice. He knew that drinking too fast wouldn't quench his thirst and would upset his stomach. Listening to the cicadas chirping "zhi le, zhi le" in the trees, he was puzzled. What month was it? Spring hadn't even passed yet; how had summer squeezed in already?

The Qing Temple in the distance looked especially solemn under the sunlight, drying up all the original delicate air. The black circular eaves reflected the sunlight, creating a very sacred image.

Today, the Qing Temple was more lively than yesterday. People were constantly going in to worship and pray for blessings. Fan Xian was curious as to why it had been so deserted when he went yesterday. He naturally didn't know that when that noble personage stole half a day of leisure, the roadsides had long been guarded, and that his being able to stroll to the door and exchange a blow with that master was entirely due to someone's tacit consent.

Wu Zhu was indeed very indulgent towards him, indulgent towards his drinking, indulgent towards his messing around. Even if he wanted to go to the temple to see, Wu Zhu could even knock out so many guards for such a small matter.

Fan Xian didn't know how much trouble he had actually caused yesterday. He was still comfortably sitting on a long bench, drinking sour plum juice, crossing his legs, and waiting for that girl.

In a room very close to the Qing Temple, the sunlight couldn't penetrate, so it seemed somewhat dark and cool. Gong Dian sat coldly in a chair, regulating his internal energy, trying to reach his optimal state.

He had been on duty last night and hadn't returned to his residence early this morning. Instead, he had come to the Qing Temple again because, after thinking it over, he felt that the appearance of that young man yesterday was somewhat strange. What was the relationship between his subordinates being knocked out by a grandmaster-level expert at the same time and that young man entering the Qing Temple?

For some reason, Gong Dian always felt that the young man would definitely come here again today, and maybe that unknown peerless master would also come.

This was a master's intuition. Although not necessarily accurate, it was worth a gamble. But that damned eunuch Hong didn't believe his judgment at all and was just investigating within the guards. He had no choice but to come alone.

Gong Dian sat quietly in the room, his gaze piercing through the extremely narrow crack in the window, coldly watching the entrance of the Qing Temple.

Outside, Fan Xian finally couldn't stand the sun's exposure. He drank the cup of... juice in one gulp, unbuttoned two buttons on his chest, stuck out his tongue, and walked towards the Qing Temple.

Fan Xian's steps were getting closer and closer to the Qing Temple.

Gong Dian seemed to hear something and frowned slightly.

……

……

Under the bright sunlight, Fan Xian felt the bluestone slabs burning his feet. He seemed to dislike this feeling and pulled his foot back.

Then he buttoned up his chest, smiled, turned around, went back to the sour plum juice stall, ordered another bowl, and slowly drank it down. Then, with leisurely steps, he walked away from the Qing Temple. Only after getting into the carriage waiting at the street corner did he exhale and shout, "Return to the mansion quickly!"

Teng Zijing glanced at him curiously, discovering that the young master's face had no expression at all.

Sitting in the carriage, Fan Xian lifted the rear curtain and looked towards the Qing Temple, frowning. He didn't know why Uncle Wu Zhu had sent him a telepathic message to leave, and he didn't know who was waiting for him there.

——————————————————————

Gong Dian looked ahead with a cold face. Hearing the sound of footsteps going back, his eyes flashed with a fierce light, and he was about to get up. Unexpectedly, he felt a gust of cold wind blowing from behind, and his neck felt icy cold.

In late spring, the weather was hotter than summer, but Gong Dian felt a drop of cold sweat running down.

His hands were placed steadily on his knees, his fingernails trimmed appropriately, and the simple but extremely sharp quick knife was placed three inches in front of his hand.

However, he dared not draw his knife.

Because he could feel that the person behind him was stronger and faster than him.