Chapter 274: Hearing the Scent of Scholarship

“Since no one’s going to live here anyway, you might as well stay. Since my wife agreed to let you work at the inn, I won’t charge you a single silver tael.” Qian Zheng declared.

Lu Youwei nodded, set down his simple bundle, and followed Qian Zheng to learn the inn’s basic operations.

The Ping’an Inn looked large, but it had only four people: the owner’s wife Qian Shi, the head cook Old Zhang, Qian Zheng, and Lu Youwei.

Lu Youwei’s duties at the inn were to greet guests during meal times; otherwise, after finishing his cleaning and assigned tasks, he could rest.

Overall, for the wage he demanded, these chores were already plenty.

Qian Shi seemed stern, but she was decent—if you did what she asked, she’d mostly leave you alone.

Plus, seeing how Lu Youwei worked with good judgment, she was even more satisfied.

After all, the wage she paid was low, making it absolutely worth it.

Because it was in town, the inn closed early; once night fell, there were hardly any guests, and no one lived inside.

After finishing work, everyone ate dinner and returned to their respective sleeping quarters.

At this time, the seal on Lu Youwei’s Wuliang Secret Scripture automatically lifted. He briefly recalled the day’s memories and nodded in satisfaction—he felt he could stay here a while longer.

Everyone at the inn was quite nice.

Yet he still found one thing unsatisfactory: the arrangement he’d made to seal his memories by day and unseal them at night.

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now he suddenly felt it was off.

It wasn’t that the direction was wrong—just that it could be improved. For instance, he could keep his memories sealed by day, but restore part of the altered memories at night.

For example, the altered memory was that he was the author of the elegant prose Journey to the West—he already had these stories in his mind.

He’d even wondered why his elegant prose Journey to the West matched exactly what Literary Crown Marquis Lu Fang had written, but he couldn’t help it—those stories were simply there in his mind.

To avoid trouble, he only wrote down these stories and had no intention of letting others know, lest he invite complications.

If he altered his memory this way—not writing the elegant prose Journey to the West as Literary Crown Marquis Lu Fang, but as the crippled, down-on-his-luck hunter Lu Youwei—would there be unexpected gains?

“I hope it does some good.”

Lu Fang sighed bitterly, shook his head, spread out a sheet of paper, dipped his brush in ink, and began writing the second chapter of the elegant prose Journey to the West—it was still painfully difficult.

Several days passed like this, until one day a heavy downpour fell; even during meal hours, the inn had no guests.

Qian Shi searched everywhere but couldn’t find Qian Zheng. She cursed, “You little brat,” and handed Lu Youwei the Da Zhou Wen Bao: “You can read, right? Since no one’s here, read me the latest elegant prose written by Literary Crown Marquis.”

Old Zhang, the idle cook nearby, hurried over to flatter Qian Shi: “Lady, have some tea.”

Since Qian Shi’s husband had passed away years ago, Old Zhang had stayed at the inn, hoping to court her—whenever he had free time, he’d fawn over her.

“What are you hovering for? Did you finish cleaning the kitchen?” Qian Shi frowned. Seeing Old Zhang nod with a smile, she shook her head and ignored him, turning to Lu Youwei and urging, “Read.”

“I heard that reading elegant prose regularly can grant you the scent of scholarship and supernatural power to become a cultivator. If only I could read more, I’d read it every day.”

“That little brat Qian Zheng just thinks about Zhao’s daughter and never bothers with elegant prose—such a headache.”

Lu Youwei nodded and began reading aloud the first chapter of the elegant prose Journey to the West from the Da Zhou Wen Bao. Though his appearance wasn’t handsome, his voice was pleasant, and reading the elegant prose gave listeners a sense of immersion.

Soon he finished reading the first chapter of Journey to the West.

Qian Shi, still captivated, said, “You know what? People who can read really do make elegant prose more enjoyable. Wait—I’ll find the earlier issues. Read them to me too. When Qian Zheng read them before, I didn’t understand some parts.”

She walked toward the back courtyard.

Old Zhang narrowed his eyes and watched Lu Youwei warily: "You kid, you're not trying to flirt with the boss lady, are you? I'm warning you—"

Lu Youwei waved his hands frantically: “Old Zhang, don’t worry—I have no such intentions. You don’t need to warn me.”

“Good.” Old Zhang clapped Lu Youwei on the shoulder, speaking with deep sincerity: “I’ve waited for the boss lady for years. I turned down jobs in the county town. One day, she’ll be moved by me.”

Lu Youwei murmured a vague agreement. In truth, Old Zhang was a decent man—straightforward, no scheming, and quite likable, aside from being a bit fat.

As long as it wasn’t about Qian Shi, Old Zhang was generally easygoing with people.

But feelings are hard to predict—anything is possible.

Still, for now, aside from Qian Shi showing no interest in him, even Qian Zheng liked Old Zhang.

Soon Qian Shi brought out the old Da Zhou Wen Bao issues—all the issues of the elegant prose Dream of the Red Chamber she had collected.

Rain drizzled softly overhead.

Inside the Ping’an Inn in the alley, Lu Youwei read Dream of the Red Chamber from the Da Zhou Wen Bao. Before long, several neighbors from nearby had gathered, listening to his reading. It wasn’t as thrilling as a storyteller’s performance, but it had its own charm.

At first he was awkward, but gradually he began to speak like a storyteller.

After each chapter ended, listeners would applaud sincerely, giving Lu Youwei a strong sense of accomplishment.

Just as Lu Youwei finished reading another chapter of Dream of the Red Chamber and reached for the next issue of the Da Zhou Wen Bao, he suddenly saw Old Zhang staring at his hand in shock: “What is this!?”

Everyone immediately gathered around.

Qian Shi leaned in, surprised: “Is this the scent of scholarship? Qian Zheng told me that’s what lets you become a cultivator—it’s exactly like this! So it’s real after all.”

Old Zhang jumped three feet in the air. After his excitement faded, he frowned in confusion: “But why did I get the scent of scholarship? I can’t even read a few characters.”

Qian Shi slapped her thigh: “Didn’t you just listen to someone reading the elegant prose Dream of the Red Chamber? I heard you can gain the scent of scholarship that way too—I just never thought it’d happen to you!”

Since several people witnessed it, news quickly spread through Shuixiang Town: Lu Youwei’s reading of elegant prose had granted Old Zhang the scent of scholarship.

The Ping’an Inn’s customer traffic surged—nearly everyone came just to hear Lu Youwei read Literary Crown Marquis’s elegant prose.