Chapter 275

For this, Madame Qian specifically increased Lu Youwei’s wage, requiring him to read elegant literature to guests at meal times.

Qian Zheng, meanwhile, was strongly urged by Madame Qian to do odd jobs in the shop, so he could also listen to Lu Youwei’s elegant readings—after all, if even not-so-bright Old Zhang could sense the scent of scholarly qi, surely her son Qian Zheng could too.

“I’ve been ruined thanks to you, Brother Lu.”

Qian Zheng chuckled bitterly as he wiped the table alongside Lu Youwei: “Old Zhang doesn’t know what stroke of luck he had—he actually gained the scent of scholarly qi just from listening to you read. It’s utterly baffling.”

Old Zhang, who had just returned from buying groceries with his newly taken apprentice, overheard this and grinned: “What luck? I’m a chosen one!”

“Stop complaining—your mother will hear you and beat you senseless.”

“Still, it’s not all bad. You wouldn’t believe it—I just went to buy groceries, and everyone was talking about you, Brother Lu, saying listening to your elegant readings grants the scent of scholarly qi.”

Qian Zheng shook his head in disbelief and called out to Madame Qian, who was smiling as she counted coins behind the counter: “Mother, why don’t we hire another helper? There’ll probably be no shortage of customers for a while.”

Madame Qian rolled her eyes and scolded: “You little brat, you don’t even know how long this business boom will last—just help out for now. Once people stop sensing the scent of scholarly qi, they’ll stop coming. Can’t you see that?”

Then she turned to Lu Youwei: “Stop helping with the chores. Lunchtime’s coming—guests will start arriving soon. Go drink some tea and review the elegant literature you’ll read, so you don’t make mistakes.”

Lu Youwei nodded with a smile and suddenly suggested: “Madame Qian, what if we put up a sign on the counter saying guests can tip for listening to the elegant readings?”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Madame Qian’s eyes lit up at the prospect of profit. “They’re only excited for a while—let’s cash in while we can. If anyone tips, we split it fifty-fifty.”

“Fine,” Lu Youwei replied. He’d only thought of it on a whim—earning tips would be nice, but if none came, he wouldn’t lose anything.

There wasn’t much to study anyway: during each mealtime, Lu Youwei only needed to read Hong Lou Meng three times. For some reason, whenever he read the story, the entire text appeared clearly in his mind—he never made a mistake.

To be exaggerated, even if he never looked at the Da Zhou Literary Gazette, he could recite it backward flawlessly. He naturally kept this miraculous ability to himself.

Still, he was puzzled: why, despite his deep love for elegant literature and his extraordinary talent, had he never gained the scent of scholarly qi?

As Lu Youwei pondered this, he suddenly heard Qian Zheng shout happily: “Miss Zhao! What brings you here? Come in, come in!”

Lu Youwei turned and saw Zhao Weiru, whom he’d met once before, entering the inn with her maid and two servants.

“I heard you have a scholar here who reads elegant literature exceptionally well, and someone even gained the scent of scholarly qi here—I came to see for myself.”

Zhao Weiru said coolly.

Qian Zheng grinned: “Miss Zhao, you’ve heard too? Absolutely right! You don’t know how beautifully Brother Lu reads—otherwise, Old Zhang back in the kitchen wouldn’t have gained the scent of scholarly qi. Come often, and I’ll give you a discount.”

Zhao Weiru said nothing, ordered a few dishes, and sat down to wait. Gradually, more guests arrived—undeniably, rumors held some power.

Zhao Weiru said nothing, simply ordered a few dishes and sat there waiting; gradually, more guests arrived, and indeed, rumors sometimes held considerable power.

Seeing Lu Youwei standing at the front, reading Hong Lou Meng aloud from the Da Zhou Literary Gazette, Zhao Weiru was surprised—she recognized him immediately.

“I thought the rumors might be true, but I figured this inn was just putting on a show. How could someone like him possibly have anything special about his reading?”

Her maid, Xiao Hui, shook her head.

Zhao Weiru thought much the same—until she listened for a while and changed her mind. Lu Youwei’s reading of Hong Lou Meng truly carried a different quality.

Just then, Qian Zheng had a moment of free time. He shuffled over boldly and asked: “Miss Zhao, what do you think? Isn’t Brother Lu’s reading wonderful?”

Zhao Weiru remained silent. Her maid lowered her voice: “He’s nowhere near as good as a storyteller. Be honest—did you rig this? I don’t believe anyone can gain the scent of scholarly qi just by listening to him.”

Qian Zheng laughed awkwardly, his confidence wavering: “We didn’t rig anything—Old Zhang really did sense the scent. But honestly, it’s hard to be certain—we don’t have many people in the whole town who’ve gained it through reading.”

“It’s impossible—just listened a few times and suddenly gained it? Don’t you think so?”

“Honestly, I don’t believe it either. But too many people saw it—Old Zhang, you wouldn’t believe it—he couldn’t even read a single character, just a cook—and he still sensed the scent. That’s why the neighbors spread such wild tales.”

“I’ve listened several times too—and still haven’t gained it.”

The moment the words left his lips—

Qian Zheng froze. His expression turned bizarre: he wanted to smile but couldn’t, as if stunned by something unimaginable.

“What’s that look for?” Xiao Hui frowned.

Qian Zheng stared, half-laughing, half-crying, as he raised his hand—on his fingertip glowed a pea-sized shimmer of five-colored light. He, too, had just gained the scent of scholarly qi.

Zhao Weiru, having seen much, recognized it instantly and gasped: “You’ve gained the scent of scholarly qi too!”

Her cry was like water dropped into hot oil—suddenly, the room erupted.

Those nearby stared in disbelief, crowding around Qian Zheng, pointing at the glowing light on his finger.

The happiest of all was Madame Qian. Though frail, she shoved through the crowd, holding up her son’s hand as if she could barely contain her joy, her eyes nearly glued to the glow.

Her idle, good-for-nothing son had gained the scent of scholarly qi!

Madame Qian wept and laughed uncontrollably, her face flushed with pride as others praised her: “I always knew this little brat would amount to something! Hahaha…”

With this, Lu Youwei’s reputation in town soared.

In little time, Ping’an Inn now had two people with the scent of scholarly qi—and both had previously been dismissed by everyone.

Naturally, all eyes turned to Lu Youwei.

Even more, many of the next wave of guests at Ping’an Inn were influential townsfolk—come solely to hear Lu Youwei read Hong Lou Meng.

Everyone thought it was a fluke—until, a month later, another person gained the scent of scholarly qi. Not just anyone—Zhao Weiru.

I had thought this was a random occurrence, but over the next month, another person acquired the scent of scholarly ink—not anyone else, but Zhao Weiru.