Han Hui

Jia Heng suppressed his irritation at being "exploited by the distribution channel," nodded, and cupped his hands. "Thank you for your consideration, Elder Liu."

"Not at all, not at all." Liu Tong set down his brush and smiled. "The manuscript purchase contract is ready. Please take a look, Young Master Jia, and see whether anything needs discussing or amending."

With that, he handed over the completed contract and a box of red seal paste.

Jia Heng examined it carefully: two hundred and forty chapters, two taels per chapter, the full manuscript to be delivered within three months... He nodded. "Your wording is meticulous and the terms are fair, sir. I see nothing amiss."

He picked up the brush resting on the brush washer, signed both copies of the contract, and pressed his fingerprint onto each.

Seeing Jia Heng sign, Liu Tong stroked the beard beneath his chin, a smile appearing on his face. "Young Master Jia, by our trade's usual commissioning practice, we would initially pay a deposit for the first fifteen chapters. But I certainly trust your background and character. Here are fifty taels as a deposit. Please keep it safe."

He took out a neatly folded banknote with a face value of fifty taels and explained, "This is a note from the Four Virtues Money House, redeemable upon presentation."

This world, too, had a "deposit penalty rule": if the Ink and Brush Studio broke the agreement, the deposit would not be returned; if Jia Heng broke it, he would have to repay twice the deposit.

Jia Heng put the banknote away and cupped his hands. "Rest assured, sir. I will deliver the first fifteen chapters by the end of the month."

With the contract settled, Jia Heng breathed a sigh of relief.

Two hundred and forty taels was a considerable sum to him as well.

Compared with his previous life, it amounted to two or three hundred thousand yuan-enough to buy a somewhat modest car.

Once Romance of the Three Kingdoms made a name for itself, he could negotiate a new price for any other manuscripts he wanted to sell.

Journey to the West, for instance?

In his previous life, Journey to the West had been published during the Wanli reign. Here, Chen Han had established its rule in the Divine Capital after the Ming fell during Jiajing's reign. Where would Longqing and Wanli have come from?

Of the four great classics, Water Margin already exists in this world. Dream of the Red Chamber... well, I can't write that one. Once I finish copying Journey to the West, I'll move on to Jin Yong's Condor Trilogy... Jia Heng pondered.

If he wanted to enter officialdom through the imperial examinations, he could not openly engage in commerce.

But without commerce, there would be no money. Leaving aside everyday living expenses, where would funds and provisions come from in the future, even just to maintain an army?

Actually, perhaps I could find some... "white gloves" to act as fronts?

Jia Heng's eyes flickered. Perhaps he could have Aunt Cai buy a publishing house, then hire some struggling scholars to serve as writers...

Other businesses were not out of the question, either.

This needs careful consideration. Jia Heng set the matter aside for now, looked up, and bade Liu Tong farewell.

"Then let me see you out, Young Master Jia," Liu Tong said.

With that, he accompanied Jia Heng downstairs.

Jia Heng came down from the Ink and Brush Studio's second floor and went to the counter, where he took the compilation of contemporary examination essays he had purchased from the assistant. Cupping his hands to Liu Tong, he said, "Please stay here, Elder Liu."

"Take care, Young Master Jia." Liu Tong smiled and nodded, watching until Jia Heng had passed through the Ink and Brush Studio's doors. Only then did he stroke his beard, take the manuscript, and return behind the counter, still unable to put it down as he narrowed his eyes to savor it.

"To think the Jia Family still has such a gifted figure." The more Liu Tong read, the more pleased he became.

Meanwhile, Jia Heng had left the Ink and Brush Studio and was about to head home when he suddenly heard a clear, resonant call.

"Brother Jia, greetings."

Jia Heng stopped and looked up. A young man in a blue scholar's robe, holding a folding fan, was smiling at him. He wore a scholar's square headcloth and had refined features, giving one the feeling of basking in a spring breeze. Beside him stood another young man, somewhat more robust, who studied Jia Heng with bright eyes beneath thick brows.

"Greetings to you as well, brother," Jia Heng replied, cupping his hands.

They then exchanged names and courtesy names.

The young man in blue was Han Hui, courtesy name Zisheng; the other was Yu Zhen, courtesy name Wendu. Both studied at the Imperial College.

Han Hui smiled. "Brother Jia, your Linjiang Immortal just now was serene and far-reaching, bold and stirring. It truly opened my eyes."

Yu Zhen smiled. "Its grandeur hints at the bearing of a master of the age. Yet the detachment and desolation in the verse seem to suggest some hidden sorrow, while your calligraphy conceals an edge as sharp as a metal spear, almost too piercing to look upon."

In short, the verse had the mood of sunset's lingering glow, having seen through worldly affairs and the rises and falls of official life, yet the calligraphy was like the rising sun, its path blazing with light.

Jia Heng smiled. "A few nights ago, I was reading the history of the Three Kingdoms. I couldn't help lamenting how yesterday's gleaming spears and armored steeds become tonight's white clouds turning into gray hounds. A little of that found its way into the verse."

It was a reasonable and natural explanation.

People's moods changed with time and circumstance. Many scholars, for instance, had written poems reflecting on history and antiquity without necessarily having experienced the world's coldness themselves. More often, their feelings came from contemplating other people and the world.

Even Li Bai had written poems of boudoir lament from a woman's perspective. Surely that did not make Li Taibai a woman?

Understanding dawned on Yu Zhen's face, and he laughed heartily. "No wonder it is stirring and tragic, yet still carries such an uplifting spirit."

Han Hui smiled. "Brother Jia, it's noon already. Why don't we find somewhere to talk? I hear a new restaurant called the Exquisite Pavilion has opened in town. We could drink and chat there."

Han Hui was indeed skilled at making friends and dealing with people. Like rain nourishing all things without a sound, his manner quietly put others at ease.

Jia Heng considered for a moment, then smiled. "Since you've invited me, Brother Han, I would do better to accept than stand on ceremony."

He also wanted to befriend scholars. Since he had decided to pursue the imperial examinations, such social connections were indispensable.

Talking as they went, the three headed toward the Exquisite Pavilion.

It was a five-story restaurant, exquisitely decorated. Judging by the carriages parked outside, its patrons were all either wealthy or distinguished.

Leading the way, Han Hui introduced it with a smile. "This restaurant opened at the beginning of the month. I hear its chef used to cook in the imperial palace, and his lion's head meatballs are superb."

Jia Heng followed Han Hui upstairs to the second floor.

They summoned an attendant and found a private room enclosed by screens, spacious and airy within, with polished tables and stands. Amid the tinkling of jade ornaments and a drifting fragrance of orchid and musk, several pretty young women in bright dresses brought tea and refreshments, then slowly withdrew.

Jia Heng hesitated before saying, "Brother Han, this is our first meeting. How could I let you go to such expense?"

He had only just met Han Hui, yet the man was treating him to such a lavish meal. His intentions were hard to fathom.

Perhaps that was a touch of persecution paranoia on his part.

Han Hui smiled. "You're too courteous, Brother Jia. Even if we hadn't met you, Wendu and I were planning to come and try the food. Just make yourself comfortable. Next time, we may simply find a noodle stall by the roadside and talk as we eat."

Yu Zhen smiled as well. "Brother Han is right. Eating at the Imperial College every day has become rather tasteless. We came out precisely for this meal."

Seeing the two chime in with such frankness and humor, Jia Heng smiled. "Then I was the one being discourteous."

After that, he accepted their hospitality with ease.

Han Hui's eyes flickered, and he nodded inwardly. This Young Master Jia from the Duke of Ningguo's household behaved with measured grace, neither servile nor overbearing. He hardly seemed to come from a humble household. As expected of someone who could write lines like "How many affairs, past and present, are all consigned to laughter and conversation."

There was a saying that even three generations could not produce an aristocrat. Those of lowly birth, when faced with the powerful, would either abase themselves with flattery or rely on their talent to look down on others.

Han Hui had a wide circle of acquaintances. Whatever other abilities he might lack, he had already honed his skill at reading expressions and observing people.

He had deliberately brought this down-on-his-luck scion of the Ningguo Mansion here to see the true colors beneath his surface.

From his unchanged expression and clear, upright gaze when those attractive maids approached, to his composure amid these splendid surroundings, Brother Jia hardly behaved as one would expect of a young man from a humble family.

The three drank tea and chatted.

As they spoke, Jia Heng indeed answered fluently and displayed uncommon insight, making Han Hui nod inwardly.

One topic led to another, and the conversation turned to the imperial examinations and qualifying as a scholar.