Chapter 3 Poetry Collection_1

The Begonia Sea of Qiyun Mountain, naturally, lives up to its reputation.

Cheng Chu felt that the hundred thousand taels of silver he traded with Yan Qing for three days of blossom viewing were well spent. Not only were the flowers beautiful, and the service excellent, but he also composed a basketful of poems. Even after he had enjoyed his fill of eating, drinking, viewing, and playing for three days and descended the mountain, he still felt a lingering reluctance to leave.

With every three steps, he looked back, bidding a reluctant farewell to the Begonia Sea.

Liuli chuckled, "Now I understand why Young Marquis Yan went to him for the exchange. It turns out he's not just wealthy with silver but also truly someone who cherishes and loves flowers; both qualities are indispensable."

"How's his poetry?" Ling Hua asked with a smile.

"He's talented. The poetry he wrote in these three days is enough to publish a collection for people to appreciate," Liuli replied.

Ling Hua nodded, "Arrange for our Sihai Bookstore to publish his work. Starting tomorrow, we'll open up South Mountain. As long as someone brings a hundred thousand taels of silver, they can enjoy it for three days."

Liuli suddenly burst into laughter, "If Young Marquis Yan knew that his actions helped our path to making money, I wonder if he would cry or laugh."

Ling Hua curved the corners of her mouth, "Who cares whether he cries or laughs."

When Cheng Chu returned to the Capital City, he didn't even go home but went straight to Marquis Duanjing's residence.

Yan Qing pondered whether Cheng Chu regretted coming to him for the silver and cautiously asked, "Brother Cheng, was the Begonia flower beautiful?"

Cheng Chu nodded excitedly, "Beautiful, incredibly beautiful. I've never seen such lovely begonias before. Thank you, Brother Yan. It's a fortune in three lifetimes, a life without regrets."

Yan Qing: "... well, that's good."

Cheng Chu pulled out a basket of poetry drafts, enthusiastically grabbing Yan Qing, "Brother Yan, I've written many poems. Come, come, come, you gave me the opportunity and missed out on the Begonia Sea. I've written poems for every beautiful begonia you should enjoy through my words!"

Yan Qing: "..."

Seeing Cheng Chu's enthusiasm, Yan Qing also wanted to see what a hundred thousand taels of silver had brought him, so he reluctantly leaned in to look.

"Hmm, Brother Cheng's literary talent shines brightly!

Cheng Chu was extremely pleased, "Brother Yan, you flatter me too much!"

Yan Qing endured a few poems and then held his head, "Brother Cheng, I can't take it anymore, my head hurts, it really hurts."

Cheng Chu, kind as someone awakening from a dream, quickly dropped the poems with an apologetic face, "I apologize, Brother Yan, I forgot you can't stand looking at poetry drafts anymore."

Yan Qing moved away from the drafts and said painfully with his head in his hands, "Brother Cheng, take them to someone else!"

"Alright, alright, I'll take them away immediately." Without another word, Cheng Chu gathered all the drafts and left.

After he left, Yan Qing slowly put down his hands.

Drifting over to him, Duanyang asked, "Young Marquis, do you need a physician?"

Yan Qing waved his hand, weakly laying down on the desk, and with a poor complexion, said, "No need. It will hurt for at most three days. I can endure it; I won't drink that bitter medicine."

Duanyang shut his mouth.

After a while, Yan Qing muttered, "Is the Begonia of Qiyun Mountain really that beautiful? To make that fool Cheng Chu compose so much poetry."

"It must be beautiful!"

"I lost out, lost out big. If I had known, I would have asked for two hundred thousand taels from him. I paid with three Plum Blossom Deer, plus a headache for three days. Not worth it!"

Duanyang: "..."

On his way to show his poetry to another friend, Cheng Chu was stopped midway by someone.

This person was in his thirties and had an air of a scholar. He clasped his hands toward Cheng Chu, "Master Cheng, I am the manager of Sihai Bookstore. I would like to collaborate with you to publish a collection of your poetry. What do you think?"

Cheng Chu was taken aback, "I...I haven't thought about publishing a poetry collection."

The man smiled, "Don't you want your poetry to be seen by countless people? Especially the Begonia of Qiyun Mountain you wrote about; how regrettable it would be if the world couldn't see its beauty."

"Yes, that would be a pity," Cheng Chu nodded.

"Hand over your poetry drafts to our Sihai Bookstore. We'll print them, so people longing for Qiyun Mountain can not only appreciate your literary talent but also envision the beauty of its Begonia Sea. You would also earn some silver back. Isn't it a triple win?"

"...That's true."

"Then what are you waiting for? Why not come with me to Sihai Bookstore right now? We at Sihai Bookstore publish quickly, working day and night. In three days, you can be admiring your poetry collection, and you can also give a copy to each of your friends and relatives. It's better than having loose sheets of paper, isn't it? It suits the preciousness of both Qiyun Mountain's Begonia Sea and your poetry."

"You're right." Excited again, Cheng Chu agreed, "Let's go to your Sihai Bookstore right away."

The man nodded and took Cheng Chu to Sihai Bookstore.

As they aimed to make the most exquisite poetry collection, the cost was naturally higher than ordinary paper. A poetry collection was priced at three taels of silver. The agreement Cheng Chu signed with Sihai Bookstore was that the bookstore would cover one tael for the printing costs, and the remaining two taels would be split evenly with Cheng Chu, a fifty-fifty ratio. Cheng Chu had no objections and happily signed the cooperation contract, both parties stamping the seals and imprinting their handprints.

Three days later, fifty thousand copies of Cheng Chu's poetry collection were printed. Cheng Chu received an income of fifty thousand taels of silver, as well as his own poetry collection. He had never seen such a beautiful collection before, and there was nothing like it on the market. He was ecstatic and bought a thousand copies on the spot. He had them carted off to deliver to friends in various residences, naturally including the Marquis Duanjing's Residence.

Happy in his heart, he wanted to express his gratitude to Yan Qing by giving away the books; everyone else got one copy, and he gave Yan Qing ten copies.

When the butler placed the ten beautifully crafted poetry collections on Yan Qing's desk, they were a pleasing sight to behold.

Having just gotten over his three-day headache, Yan Qing glanced at them and asked, "Where did these poetry collections come from?"

The butler immediately said, "Master Cheng sent them. The poetry drafts he carried the other day have been published into a collection. He is now delivering them door to door to friends and relatives. To thank you, Master, he gave you ten copies, saying it's alright if you can't read them now. You can keep them for the day when you are able to."

Yan Qing: "..."

What on earth had happened these past three days?

Curious, he walked over to the desk, picked up a poetry collection, flipped through it with a rustle, then threw it down without another glance, commenting, "The quality is decent. Which bookstore published it?"

"Sihai Bookstore," the butler answered.

Yan Qing's expression paused, "The Ling Family's?"

"Exactly!"