I opened a bookstore in ancient times

In the early morning of the next day, Su Yao went to the backyard to pluck several red plum blossoms, found a white porcelain vase and put it carefully as a meeting gift, and went to Yanqingfang with it to look for Fu Gezi.

There are at least a hundred or eighty writers of drama and novels in the old capital, and the most popular and mysterious one among them is Mr. Hetai.

This person only came to Jiujing two years ago, and a copy of "Yunxian Mengyi" shocked everyone, and quickly became the most sought after Mr. Huaben.

Of course, it was not only his article that shocked everyone, but also the speed of updating.

Writing a book in two years is even more common.

Write seven or eight chapters a month, and all the judges will cry with joy.

It is also due to good writing, otherwise in the old Beijing where there are so many talents, the students and boudoir ladies would forget him in a blink of an eye.

However, even though there are many fans, no one in the old capital city, where this news can be spread immediately, knows the real identity of Mr. Hetai.

Because of a paper contract, Su Yao only knew that his surname was Fu, and he didn't even know his name.

The identity of this person is a mystery, and his personality and preferences are impossible to guess. There are more than a dozen of the rumors that Su Yao has heard, and they can be summed up in only four words——

Very difficult.

The only real appearance of Mr. Fu in the old capital was when he first came to Qujia Restaurant in Pingningfang.

Because the environment of the restaurant was unsatisfactory and the food was not to the taste, Mr. Fu specially wrote a word on the outer wall of the restaurant to vent his anger.

These days, it is extremely common for literati to drink to the top and write a poem to make a couplet outside restaurants and restaurants.

It is also regarded as an elegant thing by many restaurants.

But it was the first time in the old capital that he directly cursed at someone so carelessly.

Moreover, his poem is brilliant and catchy, and the shopkeeper of the Qu family painted the outer wall overnight, and it has been recited for more than a month.

Qu's restaurant was empty for a while, but it closed down immediately after the government found out about hygiene problems.

As the shopkeeper and the waiter all packed up and left, there was no trace of Mr. Hetai in the old capital.

As a result, all kinds of rumors came one after another, and have been passed down to this day.

Su Yao only knew that eight out of ten rumors about Mr. Hetai's residence were false.

This Fu Hetai lived in Yanqingfang, southeast of the old capital.

It's a bit off, but it's right under the eyes of all the rumor makers.

This morning, the sky was gloomy, the clouds were rolling, and it looked like it was about to rain.

Due to the bad weather, there were very few pedestrians along the way, and even the restaurants at the gate of the square were not open.The boundary of Yanqingfang was originally remote, but now it looks even more secluded, without any atmosphere of fireworks.

It just rained last night, and there are still layers of rain stains on the bluestone road. When the breeze blows, there is a fresh smell of earth.

Wet, mixed with a bit of green sweetness.

Su Yao took a deep breath of the smog-free air, feeling refreshed.He has been here for nearly a year, and he actually likes this world quite a bit.

It's just a bit cold along the way.

Su Yao thought to himself, when he has money, he must buy some of the largest and most stable cars and sedans, with some good horses and mules, so as not to suffer from the cold wind.

Although Qi Bo is over half a hundred years old, he is in excellent health, and he still has the time to care about him: "Young Master, are you tired?"

Su Yao smiled: "I haven't been out for a long time, I will come and walk more in the future."

"I don't know if you still remember, but you liked coming here when you were young."

Qi Bo smiled so that his eyes narrowed, and he chatted with him, "The Baibao Pavilion in Yanqingfang makes a kind of rabbit that can run away when you pull a string. I like it so much, I secretly bought several of them with you in my arms. It's a pity that I don't do it now."

In fact, Su Yao didn't inherit much of the original owner's memory. It's hard for Qi Bo to remember such a long-standing trifle so clearly.

Su Yao knew very well that Uncle Qi treated the original owner very well, and he couldn't help but reassure him: "Uncle Qi, don't worry, when I make a lot of money, we will buy all kinds of novelties."

"Buy three of them, one for playing, one for watching, and one for throwing."

Zipper amused him at this.

Su Yao looked at the red plums in his bosom, and sighed again with a smile: "It's a pity that I don't make them now, otherwise I'm afraid it will be better than this flower if I send it to Mr. Fu."

Qi Bo said: "This Mr. Fu is a scholar, he sings the wind and the moon all day long, how can children's things catch his eyes?"

Su Yao smiled: "Not necessarily. I read his article earlier and saw that Mr. Fu is quite good at carpentry. He must be interested in such delicate things."

And some regrets: "He is well-known, and his taste is very picky. I can't match him up, so I can only be arty and send two flowers."

Qi Bo looked at Su Yao and just smiled noncommittally.

The sky was cloudy, but not so gloomy.

Su Yao was wearing a sky-blue outer shirt. His figure was a bit thin, and the long robe with wide sleeves seemed a bit elegant.

The new year is just over, and his complexion has improved a lot. His black hair is half tied and half draped, which complements his fair complexion and delicate face. His clear eyebrows are always smiling, and they are as warm as oasis.

This look is holding burning red plums, and people and flowers complement each other. Not to mention the old capital, even counting the current imperial capital, there is no other painting of beauties with such a graceful appearance.

This red plum was placed in Qi Bo's hands, and people might even dislike it; Su Yao took it to give it away, as long as the other party had eyes, he would definitely not receive a "no".

Qi Bo was very proud of the young master who had watched him grow up.

He walked all the way to Fu's house with peace of mind, knocking on the door lightly, but it took a long time before someone poked his head out in bewilderment and rubbed his eyes: "Who is it?"

"Old Wu, I, Qi Ping." Qi Bo laughed.

"Hey, it's Lao Qi. Why do you have the time to come to my place?"

Uncle Wu rubbed his eyes vigorously again, regained his consciousness, looked behind Uncle Qi with his head, but smiled politely: "Yo, Lao Qi, the person on the New Year's picture of your family is alive, and this is specially brought to give me some insight? "

Mr. Fu lived in seclusion, but all matters big and small were dealt with by Uncle Wu.

Qi Bo benefited greatly from his eloquence: "The shopkeeper of my bookstore made a special trip to visit Mr. Fu today."

"Rare customers, rare customers, I met Boss Su."

Uncle Wu enthusiastically brought people in, but he showed a little bit of embarrassment, "Boss Su, please go to the flower hall and wait. It's early in the morning, and my son hasn't woken up yet."

It was really not so early in the morning.

This comfortable work and rest habit.

When Su Yao came, Ah Yan got up and had memorized three or five chapters of "Chu Ci".

But if you think about it, you don't have to worry about food or clothing, you don't have to take exams, and it's human nature to sleep until the sun is up.

Su Yao smiled as usual, and went to the flower hall to wait.

Wait for an hour.

Uncle Wu apologized again and again and came over to invite him.

Su Yao has a good temper and a good talker, and his patience is even better, so naturally he doesn't care about it.

Uncle Wu drew up two curtains in succession, but led people into the East Nuan Pavilion.

Fu's house is remote, only the sound of birds is left around.From the outside, it looks like a small house with two entrances and two exits, but the furnishings in the room are extremely exquisite and generous. Except for the books, they are all rare and ingenious things.There are precious curtains with silver hooks, beaded mantles and painted screens, and gilt incense burners burning with aloes, and even the windows are pasted with rosin-colored soft smoke with hooked bamboo leaf patterns.

Wealthy and elegant.

Su Yao secretly sighed, this Mr. Fu has good taste.

And not ordinary rich.

Judging from the Langhao pens hung on the table case in accordance with the thickness and length, it is still an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Although Su Yao was a little startled by the sight of her being exposed just right, she didn't lose her composure.

He was thinking about the money in the room, and his already gentle attitude became a little more polite: "Mr. Fu is polite. We met for the first time at Su Yao, the next Su's bookstore."

He saluted, but the person reclining on the couch did not move.

He simply nodded without even raising his eyelids: "Yes."

After a pause, he added: "Hello, Boss Su."

There was a moment of silence in the room, and Su Yao couldn't help but choked.

Uncle Wu on the side smiled and said: "Boss Su, please sit down." He pushed the hot tea that had been poured a little closer.

This tea is the authentic West Lake Longjing tea. Uncle Wu was polite, so Su Yao took another sip.

Putting down the porcelain cup, I saw that the person on the couch was still motionless, only turning a page of the book motionlessly.

The soft smoke that covered the window was as thin as nothing, and the skylight shone in, and was sifted out indistinctly.

Looking from Su Yao's angle, he saw the faint shadow cast on Fu Ling's face, outlining his delicate jaw, thin lips hanging over his nose, long brows set into the temples, and a pair of slightly drooping red phoenix eyes.

Su Yao was startled for a moment, and thought again, it really is a "very difficult" appearance.

He tried a few more pleasantries, but got monosyllabic replies.

That's right, this kind of high-cold cultural person doesn't like polite nonsense.

Boss Su, who has always been adhering to the principle of "talking about friendship first and then business", decided to change his strategy and asked straight to the point: "Mr. .”

Fu Ling stared at the book in his hand without turning his eyes. Hearing this, he just opened his mouth indifferently: "I can't hand in the manuscript, I haven't written it yet."

Concise and clear, straightforward.

Su Yao choked again.

It's nice to have money.

If you can afford the liquidated damages, your waist is tough.

Sure enough, before Su Yao came back to his senses, Mr. Fu's next sentence was: "How much is the liquidated damages? Boss Su and Uncle Wu will get it."

Uncle Wu sneered at the side, and was about to speak when Su Yao hurriedly stopped him, "No rush, it's not the time yet, so it's not a breach of contract."

He is here to urge the manuscript, so he can't stop it in a few words.

Su Yao made up his mind, took a sip of tea, and smiled kindly again: "Although I don't understand it very well, I also know that writing a book must be about inspiration, and it's common to not have it for a while. It's just..."

He paused: "It's been three months since the contract was signed in the twelfth lunar month. Hasn't Mr. Fu finished the manuscript yet?"

There was a moment of silence in the room.

Su Yao waited for reasons patiently.

Uncle Wu watched coldly for a long while, and after a few words, he broke the silence with a sad expression on his face: "Boss Su doesn't know. Because of the extremely cold winter this year, and just after the twelfth lunar month, my cassia——cassia is the son's cat—became ill. The young master was worried, so he delayed for a long time and never wrote."

Su Yao didn't see the shadow of the cat.

However, there is a wooden mouse on the desk, with big ears and a big head, round and round.

Mr. Fu's whole body style is obviously not suitable for this object, presumably it is made as a plaything for cats.

Su Yao nodded, and showed three points of concern at the right time: "So that's the case. I don't know if Mr.'s cat is okay now?"

"Hey." Uncle Wu sighed, his eyes were wide-eyed, "As soon as I mention it, my son will be sad again. Boss Su, my son is really sad now, and I really can't write. I hope you can understand me. Go from Guipi— —”

He made a gesture to wipe away his tears, but suddenly a lazy meow came from behind the treasure rack.

The aftertaste is long.

A big fat cat walked slowly over, lying at Su Yao's feet, and began to lick its paws as if no one else was there. At first glance, it looked a bit like its plaything, a mouse.

It's a big orange.

I can't tell that Mr. Fu has this taste in raising cats.

Su Yao glanced at the lively big orange cat, then raised his eyes to Uncle Wu who was about to cry, and raised his eyebrows.

"Uh……"

Uncle Wu wiped away the sweat that didn't exist, and when he was stuck, the person on the couch spoke at this time calmly.