Chapter 14: Targeted

The two exchanged a few pleasantries before Lin Zheyu got straight to the point.

“Leaving Bidan Teahouse to tell stories at Yixiang Teahouse is impossible. After all, Manager Wu was kind to me in the past.”

Jia Yanming was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, and his expression turned cold.

“Don’t be anxious. While I won’t leave Bidan Teahouse, I can provide stories for you.”

“Songyi City is not lacking in storytellers with strong skills. My storytelling technique is not even worth mentioning in front of the veteran masters.”

“What they lack is simply a fresh, good story. And as it happens, I have good stories,” Lin Zheyu said slowly.

“Oh?”

“As exciting as the stories you tell at Bidan Teahouse?” Jia Yanming became interested.

Lin Zheyu was right; his storytelling technique was indeed inferior to many of the old masters who had spent years honing their craft.

His main advantage lay in the freshness and excitement of his stories.

A good story is like a foundation; only by laying a solid foundation can one use storytelling techniques to build a pavilion or a palace.

“Absolutely exciting!” Lin Zheyu affirmed.

“Do you have a written manuscript?”

“I do. This is the first chapter of a new story. Take a look.”

Lin Zheyu handed over the manuscript he had prepared in advance. This story was the same one he had given to the three storytellers yesterday.

Jia Yanming took the manuscript and began to browse through it quickly.

He was literate; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to hold the position of manager.

A few minutes later, Jia Yanming finished reading the first chapter, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. The quality of the story was good.

“Good, it’s settled then!”

“I’ll pay 200 wen per chapter. What do you think?”

Jia Yanming said. The content of one chapter was just enough for a storyteller’s daily performance.

“No need for 200 wen. I’ll only charge you 80 wen.”

“However, I have also sold this story to others. If you want exclusivity, it will be more expensive—400 wen.”

Lin Zheyu asked for a high price, leaving room for bargaining.

“You sold it to others as well?”

Jia Yanming frowned. This wouldn’t do.

The reason Bidan Teahouse was popular was precisely because the stories Lin Zheyu told were new, not only incredibly exciting but also exclusive to Bidan Teahouse—you couldn’t hear them anywhere else.

If they could be heard elsewhere, the audience would have more choices and wouldn’t necessarily come to their teahouse.

“That won’t do. Do you have anything exclusive? Let me see it first,” Jia Yanming said.

He was secretly shocked by Lin Zheyu’s creative ability.

Not only was he telling new stories at Bidan Teahouse, but he could also provide different, extremely exciting story content to other storytellers.

If he could produce another story and sell it exclusively to him, that would be truly astonishing.

“I was prepared for this.”

“I originally intended to make this story into a series, but Master Liang said he liked hearing stories about martial artists, so I wrote a new one. This story had nowhere to be told.”

“Since this one is no longer needed, I’ll sell it to you.”

Lin Zheyu said with a smile, deliberately mentioning Master Liang to intimidate Jia Yanming. He wasn’t sure if Master Liang’s name carried any weight, though.

“Master Liang? Which Master Liang?”

Jia Yanming took the manuscript and asked, seemingly nonchalant.

“Master Liang Song. I have already apprenticed under him,” Lin Zheyu said.

Liang Song?

Jia Yanming pondered for a moment, the image of a limping old man appearing in his mind.

He had heard his younger brother mention this person. It was said that his strength was decent, but he rarely made a move and kept a very low profile.

Jia Yanming secretly noted the name, planning to ask Jia Yanyong about it in detail when he returned.

He quickly browsed through the manuscript provided by Lin Zheyu.

This was a story about a scholar, part of the same series as the story Lin Zheyu had previously told at Bidan Teahouse.

“Good!”

“As expected of Mr. Lin, to be able to write so many exciting stories—your literary talent is truly remarkable.”

“I’ll take both this story and the previous one. Can you give me a discount?”

Jia Yanming decided on the spot.

Both stories were extremely exciting. Based on Jia Yanming’s decades of experience and judgment, they were bound to be hits.

“I’ll round it down for you. Let’s call it 500 wen.”

Jia Yanming: “...”

Jia Yanming squinted, his brows slightly furrowed, with an expression that said, *Do you take me for an idiot?*

“Haha, just a joke. Let’s make it 450 wen. That’s my final price,” Lin Zheyu said with a smile.

“Fine, 450 wen it is.”

Jia Yanming was very straightforward.

The quality of these two stories was high. With them, business at Yixiang Teahouse would become even more prosperous.

“Manager Jia is a straightforward man. Here, this cup is for you!”

Lin Zheyu raised his glass, feeling quite good.

He had not only resolved a troublesome matter but also gained an additional 450 wen in daily income.

Adding the earnings from the three storytellers, he was making an extra 690 wen a day.

...

Baishan District.

Gao Yu looked at the dying "Skinny Monkey" on the hospital bed, his brows tightly furrowed.

The doctor had just checked on him and said he had been poisoned. Even if he recovered, he would likely be crippled and unable to do any heavy labor.

“Brother Yu, you... you must... help me get revenge!”

Skinny Monkey looked at Gao Yu and said with great difficulty.

“Big Brother, what should we do about this? Should we report it to the authorities?” another man asked.

“Report it to your head.”

“You got poisoned while trying to steal, and you want to report it? Do you want the magistrate to arrest us?”

Gao Yu cursed angrily, feeling extremely irritable.

He had been a petty thief for so many years, and this was the first time he had encountered such a ruthless person who smeared poison on the sharp objects atop a wall.

“This matter cannot end like this.”

Gao Yu gritted his teeth and said hatefully.

This was the first time he had suffered a loss at the hands of an outsider like Lin Zheyu, who had no clan background. Gao Yu didn’t believe he couldn’t handle a weak scholar.

“Yanling, Wenbiao, you two keep an eye on that Lin Zheyu. Observe his daily movements and find out the situation around his residence,” Gao Yu ordered. This matter could not just be dropped.

That brat Lin Zheyu was just a down-and-out scholar who had fled from Jiunan City. Even if he had made a few coins now, he had no background—wasn’t he someone he could crush at will?

It was just a bit troublesome that the guy stayed in the Inner City, where security was relatively strict, making it hard to take action.

“Brother Yu, are we going to take action in the Inner City?”

Wenbiao asked, feeling fearful.

If they were caught taking action in the city, the punishment would be severe.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

“As long as we find a place where no one is around to do it, we won’t be discovered.”

“A refugee like him, with no one to rely on, no one will stand up for him even if he goes missing,” Gao Yu said.

“Do we really have to kill him?”

Yanling said, feeling a bit reluctant.

Although he was a petty thief who had done many bad things, he had never killed anyone.

“That depends on whether the brat is sensible. If he is, and he provides enough compensation, I might spare his life,” Gao Yu said coldly.

After some discussion, the group formulated a simple plan.

...

After reaching an agreement with Jia Yanming, Lin Zheyu breathed a sigh of relief.

He no longer had to worry about the younger brother from the Feihong Gang coming to cause trouble or being ambushed.

However, Lin Zheyu did not remove the traps in his courtyard. The world was not peaceful, and living alone in Songyi City, it was better to take some precautions.

Time passed, and in the blink of an eye, six days went by.

Lin Zheyu’s life was going well.

The team of storytellers had grown to nine, though the price had dropped slightly to 50 wen per person per day.

The income contributed by the nine storytellers, plus the income from providing manuscripts to Yixiang Teahouse, and what he earned from his own storytelling, reached about 1,500 wen.

That was equivalent to one tael of silver.