Chapter 72 Throwing a Stone Into the Quiet Lake

It was the end of October. After finishing "Painted Skin Ghost" that day, Chen Heng wrote intermittently for ten days before he finished two articles, "Zhedong Sheng" and "Jiangzhong Ghost".

It was not because these two articles had many words, the total number was only a few thousand words. It was simply that Chen Heng used his free time to write intermittently and take a break from his busy schedule.

The story of the former was told to him by the elder brother in Zhejiang, and the latter was thought up by him while he was traveling between Yangzhou and Suzhou by water, looking at the dim night sky.

As soon as these two articles were completed, they were taken to be read by Jiang Yuanbai and others, and they all praised them after reading them. Only Qian Dayou expressed a little regret: "I thought it would be as strange as "Painted Skin Ghost", which is a pity."

Xue Ke smiled and explained for Chen Heng: "Three stories, each one is different. Some are tortuous, some are strange, and some are sad. I think Brother Heng wants to test the waters and find out the bottom of the bookstore."

"Oh? Is there such a thing?" Jiang Yuanbai picked up the manuscript in his hand suspiciously, and read it over and over again, but he still couldn't understand it.

Chen Heng and Xue Ke smiled at each other, and he asked the other party: "In your opinion, can I take these few articles to the bookstore?"

Everyone said in unison: "Go, go now, we will go with you."

Today is a holiday, and the sun is bright at noon. The four of them packed up a little, walked out of the academy side by side, and rushed to the bookstore with laughter all the way. Hu Yuan saw the four of them coming together and thought that they had come for a big business, so he quickly led the group into the house.

After Chen Heng explained his purpose, Hu Yuan nodded. Although he was surprised that the other party wrote so quickly, he still asked first: "Brother Chen, can you let me see what you wrote first?"

This is reasonable, and Chen Heng will naturally not refuse. After handing the three stories to the other party, Hu Yuan leaned against the counter and flipped through them.

His eyebrows were sometimes frowned and sometimes relaxed. Everyone suppressed their excitement and were curious about what kind of evaluation Chen Heng's article would get.

After waiting for Hu Yuan to finish reading, the old man closed his eyes and raised his hand to smooth his chest. After spending some time to calm down, he said to Chen Heng happily,

"Brother Chen, it's well written. Since Qian Xiyan, it has been difficult to produce such a masterpiece in the story of strange stories." He rubbed his hands excitedly, carefully placed the manuscript on the desk, and pressed it down with a black heart wood ruler.

Seeing this, Chen Heng couldn't help but smile to Xue Ke. Both of them knew the origin of Qian Xiyan mentioned by Hu Yuan.

Strange stories originated in the Han Dynasty, flourished in the Wei and Jin Dynasties, and were not really popular until the Tang Dynasty, attracting the passionate and romantic Tang people at that time. But after the prosperity of the Tang Dynasty, the momentum of strange stories also plummeted.

Strange stories that appeared again since the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms were boring and dull. There were so many literary masters in the Song Dynasty, but few were interested in them. It was not until the previous dynasty that Qian Xiyan from Wu County, Suzhou, became famous with a book "Xiaoyuan".

People in the previous dynasty praised him as "a man of earth and wood, and a dragon and tiger in his writing". Just this evaluation shows the excellence of "Xiaoyuan". If everything goes well, perhaps Qian Xiyan can lead strange stories to a new peak.

But life is full of ifs. After the impoverished Qian Xiyan completed "Xiaoyuan", he was looking forward to improving his life with it.

An old man who has been dead for ten years, frustrated and with countless regrets, relied on a monkey that jumped out of a stone and fought all the way from Huaguo Mountain to Nantianmen with a golden hoop, suppressing the world's literary world.

"Xiaoyuan" is not bad, but "Journey to the West" is too well written. If the former is compared to the bright stars in the night, then the latter is the bright sun in the morning light. When it appears, the stars retreat and sweep across the universe.

Qian Xiyan's debut work encountered such a masterpiece. Needless to say, Qian Xiyan's ending is naturally not worth mentioning. He can only die with full regrets and poverty.

Xue Ke was very happy that his friend could get such an evaluation, but Hu Yuan was puzzled: "Brother Chen, have you finished it? If there is more later, you might as well take it all out, and I can make a decision directly on behalf of your uncle."

This really hit Chen Heng's difficulty. The whole chapter of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio has more than four or five hundred words. Unless he does not read books and writes for a few years without eating or drinking, he will never be able to finish the whole chapter.

However, he had his own plans this time. After all, he was different from the ancients, and he had many tricks in his mind. He pulled Hu Yuan to his side and told him his ideas one by one.

After listening, Hu Yuan said doubtfully: "Then I will try it first. If it works, our bookstore will only take half of the profit from these three articles. I just hope that when brother Chen writes the next masterpiece, he can think of our Huji Bookstore first."

Seeing this, Chen Heng had no reason to refuse, and hurriedly bowed to thank him.

After agreeing on the follow-up, Chen Heng left the bookstore with his classmates. Only Hu Yuan was left, and he called the waiter in the store and began to work on what Chen Heng had told him.

That evening, a total of seven or eight storytellers who had long been friends were invited to the bookstore by Hu Yuan.

When the storytellers saw that they were all acquaintances, they knew that Hu Yuan must have received new works and asked them to comment on them. Everyone was eating this bowl of rice, so naturally they hoped to encounter more excellent works, and they began to look forward to it during the conversation.

After about a cup of tea, Hu Yuan came in with a few assistants and distributed seven or eight pieces of white paper that had just been copied to the storyteller.

"Gentlemen, please take a look first." Hu Yuan picked up the tea with a very leisurely expression. He was very confident in Chen Heng's story.

What Hu Yuan showed them was the first chapter of "The Painted Skin Ghost". All storytellers naturally know good and bad. From this chapter alone, you can see the writer's imagination and writing power.

"Young Master, what's next?" Someone asked about the following article.

"It's such a wonderful piece of writing that it makes people like strangers feel proud again." Some people praised it profusely. They even picked up the paper and put it in front of their noses and smelled it. They said that the article was good and had the fragrance of ink. I don't know if he smelled it.

"Don't be anxious, everyone." Hu Yuan raised his hand and pressed it, smiling, "Mr. Yuan He has made an announcement, and his articles will be published every seven days..."

Hu Yuan slowly told Chen Heng's plan, but everyone had some questions after listening. They had been telling stories for most of their lives. When had they ever seen this method before? They couldn't help but have a look of doubt on their faces, "Young master, is this really feasible? ?”

Hu Yuan smiled softly and comforted them: "Anyway, we will pay for these few pieces of paper, and our library will also bear their wages. Such an article is worth a try."

Everyone thought so, and they could not suffer any loss, so they all agreed to act according to his instructions tomorrow.

After noon on the second day, the number of guests in the Fuyuan Tea House gradually increased. As long as people from the Yong Dynasty were not fond of gambling or drinking wine, their entertainment options were limited.

Spend some time every day, make an appointment with a few colleagues who love listening to books, order a pot of tea in a teahouse, spend some money for a plate of watermelon seeds, and listen to storytelling and storybooks for an afternoon, it is definitely a beautiful thing. .

The storyteller in this building is named Youshan. About fifty years old, he was an old boy during the reign of the Supreme Emperor. He Youshan had bad luck. He encountered two major changes in the examination field when he was young. He worked hard all his life and remained a child who was not good at academics. In the end, he could only rely on storytelling to maintain his family's livelihood.

Today he will start with a section of "The West Chamber", and about half an hour later, he will switch to "The Hero's Blood and Iron Heart". After finishing this section, he will immediately switch to "Journey to the West".

This is to take care of the preferences of the tea guests. After all, he doesn't know which book the guests who come every day like to listen to. If there is only one article from beginning to end, it will easily bore the guests. Unless someone is willing to pay a lot of money to book a theater to listen to him, then he can still do it.

After finishing the article about the Daughter's Kingdom in Journey to the West, He Youshan drank a cup of tea, picked up a wooden board and banged it on the table, then raised his voice and said, "By the way, three days ago, a strange man came to our Yangzhou city. Calling himself Yuan He, he wears white clothes and his age is unknown. Passers-by will forget it when they see it..."

The tea-goers in the hall became energetic because they had received a new storybook. Everyone looked up and sideways, curious about the new story, and looked at He Youshan attentively.

Seeing that everyone's attention had been attracted, He Youshan was very satisfied, but he never stopped talking, "I saw Mr. Yuanhe staggering into the Hu Ji Library. The young master of the library asked Him: Is there anything wrong with your visit, sir?"

"Mr. Yuanhe replied to him: Yesterday I was under a tree in the mountains and listened to a wild fox telling some strange things. As entrusted by him, I will tell you these strange things today."

"Hu Shaodong's family couldn't help but wonder: Why did you give it to me? Mr. Yuanhe told him: You saved its life when you were a child, so you asked me to repay your kindness..."

Is there such a thing? People in the teahouse couldn't help but start talking in low voices. Some people said that there really was a library called Hu Ji in the east of the city. Others said that they seemed to have seen such a person a few days ago, but they really couldn't remember it.

At this time, He Youshan had slowly begun to talk about the content of "Painted Skin Ghost". His voice was already deep, and he used his storytelling skills a little bit, and he was really eloquent and witty.

The tea guests were first attracted by the beginning of Wang Sheng's chance encounter with the damsel in distress, and then following He Youshan's description, they seemed to have really seen a green-faced and fanged female ghost holding a human skin in front of them, which made people tremble just thinking about it. .

Coincidentally, He Youshan had learned some ventriloquism skills. The sunset was receding outside and the sky was getting dark. He shrunk his mouth and flicked his tongue, imitating the cold wind knocking on the window, which made everyone's hearts tremble. I can't help but secretly hate that this king is so blind that he doesn't listen to his wife's hard advice and uses the word "sex" to attract ghosts.

But when the tea guests heard that Mr. Wang had his heart and liver ripped out by a female ghost and died at home, they couldn't help but feel sad for him. Their moods fluctuated with the storyteller's narration, until finally the Taoist priest wielded his sword to eliminate evil spirits, and the beggar brought life to life with his skillful hand.

Everyone clapped their hands and shouted "ok" in unison.

For a time, a total of seven or eight teahouses roared in the huge city of Yangzhou, attracting tourists on the street to stop and watch.

He Youshan, who was speaking heartily, took some tea to moisten his mouth and waited for the tea guest's reaction. He would go back and tell Hu Yuan these things at night.

"Sir, sir, what's the story behind?"

"Yeah, why don't you continue talking."

Everyone was enjoying listening to it. Some people got up and asked the waiter to continue serving tea. Some people just sat there blankly, not knowing what they were thinking.

He Youshan smiled slightly and pointed to the outside of the building, "Before Mr. Yuan He left, he left behind a strange book called "Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio". A story will be published in this book only every seven days. The time has not come yet. What will happen later?" It’s all blank paper.”

"If you want to get confirmation, you can go to Hu Ji's Library in the east of the city and ask for it in person."

As soon as the storyteller finished speaking, someone immediately stood up and walked quickly downstairs, heading straight to Hu Ji's library. But when he arrived at the door of the library, there were already many tea drinkers surrounding the place, and they had already blocked Hu Yuan in the middle of the door.

"Is there really a wild fox who repays his kindness, and a white-robed stranger named Yuanhe?"

Before Hu Yuan could answer, someone in the crowd shouted, "Why not? I saw a scholar in white clothes on the street a few days ago, but I can't remember his appearance. I think he must be Mr. Yuanhe."

"Please don't get excited, don't scare my neighbors." Hu Yuan was really overjoyed. He didn't expect Chen Heng's idea to be so useful and attract so many customers to the bookstore.

"Speak directly, boss, do you have Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio for sale?"

Some smart people guessed that this was a trap set by the bookstore, but they couldn't resist the story and asked directly.

Hu Yuan didn't keep it a secret. He pointed to the sign beside him and read: Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month next year.

Everyone realized that if they wanted to buy books, they would have to wait until next year. When they thought that it was only the end of October, they couldn't help but feel a little discouraged. Many people left, but some people still grabbed Hu Yuan and wanted to see the real copy left by Mr. Yuanhe.

Hu Yuan persuaded them to leave one by one after another.

Hahahaha, thank you everyone, I'm going to Sanjiang. I didn't expect that we would have this day, I'm a little excited. By the way: Book Friends Group Number: 670332809

Thank you very much.