Chapter 6: The Wonders of Selective Excerpts
“Brother Zhang, yesterday I happened to pass by the Shanhai Bookshop and saw a sign that said ‘Buy One, Get One Free.’ What does that mean?”
“Buy one book and get another free? It must be a merchant’s trick to make a profit.”
“But if it’s a gift, how could there be profit?”
“...”
Jian Hang sat cross-legged at his desk reading, amused by his classmate’s conversation. He stifled the urge to laugh aloud, not wanting to cause any misunderstanding.
Yet, “Buy One, Get One Free?” Jian Hang pondered. He decided he had to see for himself.
Jian Hang was a descendant of a noble family branch, with a modestly wealthy household—no worries about food or clothing. Still, studying was an expensive endeavor: ink, brushes, paper, and inkstones all cost money and were far from cheap.
In fact, buying a single book cost more than making clothes for his mother and sister. Most of the family’s income was spent on his education and his father’s social engagements.
Since learning about this, Jian Hang had deliberately economized. He no longer insisted on the best paper and ink; ordinary quality would suffice. He discarded any pretentious decorations, preferring simplicity and elegance.
He had transformed from a sheltered scion into a thrifty commoner, careful with every penny.
His classmates told him he needn’t be so frugal, but Jian Hang could never shamelessly demand money from home.
After class, he did not go home but headed straight to the bookshop.
He immediately saw the sign hanging above the entrance, boldly proclaiming “Buy One, Get One Free,” the letters large and clear as if to ensure no one missed it.
Jian Hang’s heart leapt. “Shopkeeper, one copy of the Historical Records, please.”
His younger sister, Jian Tong, was bright and loved reading, especially classics and history.
Her birthday was approaching, and Jian Hang planned to gift her a copy of the Historical Records. Now, with this offer, he could get two books—one for himself and one for Jian Tong.
The shopkeeper took a copy from behind the counter and handed it to Jian Hang.
Expectantly, Jian Hang waited for the free second book.
But after a long pause, the shopkeeper said nothing.
Seeing Jian Hang frozen and not paying, the shopkeeper reminded, “Sir, you haven’t paid yet.”
Jian Hang paid, eyes still fixed on the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, asked puzzledly, “Is there something else, sir?”
Jian Hang pointed to the sign and asked, “Isn’t this a buy one get one free deal?”
The shopkeeper’s expression stiffened as he gestured to a large stack of books placed nearby—books Jian Hang had seen before.
“Sir, you can take one yourself,” he said.
Apparently, the shopkeeper had no intention of touching them.
Jian Hang was incredulous. “Buy one get one free, and the free book is this?”
“Yes, sir,” the shopkeeper said with sympathy.
Jian Hang’s heart sank, silently cursing merchants for their deceit.
Still, wanting to save face, he didn’t ask to return the book.
Not taking something for free would be foolish. With a sullen face, Jian Hang took the book home.
He comforted himself: at least something was given, and he hadn’t lost out.
Back at home, Jian Hang placed the book in his study, then went to greet his mother.
Returning, he stared at the familiar cover and title with a blank expression.
After all, he had spent money on it; he might as well read it.
---
With that thought, Jian Hang opened the book.
It wasn’t thick, just a thin volume.
It should take most of the afternoon to finish.
But once he started, he became engrossed, losing track of time.
When he flipped to the last page, a voice suddenly spoke behind him.
“Oh no, it’s over?” Jian Tong appeared suddenly, startling Jian Hang.
“When did you come? How come I didn’t hear you?”
“You were so absorbed, I naturally wasn’t noticed,” Jian Tong said with a mischievous wink.
“What happens next? Brother, show me!”
Eager to know the continuation, Jian Tong pleaded.
Only then did Jian Hang realize he had been completely captivated by such a ridiculous, sensational, and unliterary book, and now his sister had seen it too.
Embarrassment and shame flooded his heart.
“What nonsense are you reading? This is the only volume—there’s no sequel,” Jian Hang said reluctantly.
He could bear his own embarrassment, but if his sister started reading such things and got spoiled, what would he do?
“Brother can read it, why can’t I?” Jian Tong frowned, displeased.
“That old man from the Chu family is too cruel. Because Sister Chu isn’t pretty, she’s been abandoned. And that stepmother is truly detestable.”
Jian Tong fell into memories, momentarily forgetting her anger, genuinely worried for the protagonists and even giving them nicknames.
“That’s impossible! The book isn’t finished—there must be more!” Jian Tong eagerly snatched the book from Jian Hang’s hands and flipped through it.
At the bottom of the last page, she found a line in small print: “To know what happens next, please return to the Shanhai Bookshop to purchase the sequel.”
Pointing to the line, she urged, “See? There’s more! Brother, please buy it for me.”
Jian Hang’s face darkened. “No.”
Such embarrassment was enough once; would he do it again? How could the family money be spent on such things?
“If you don’t buy it, I’ll tell Mother that you read this kind of book,” Jian Tong threatened, seeing her brother didn’t want anyone to know.
Jian Hang rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming.
He had even planned to buy her a birthday present, only to be blackmailed with this worthless book.
Oh, right, he had bought other books.
He picked up the Historical Records and tossed it into Jian Tong’s arms. “Here, read this. I was thinking of buying you a birthday gift, but now you’re just ungrateful.”
Feeling a bit guilty, Jian Tong didn’t expect her brother to be so kind. She pleaded, “Brother, please buy it for me. I promise I won’t argue or make you angry again. I’ll be good, just this once.”
Unable to resist her coaxing, Jian Hang finally agreed but warned her not to let their mother know, or she’d have their legs broken.
---
The “Buy One, Get One Free” scheme was devised by Xu Chengyue.
Those who shopped at this bookstore generally had some money and were willing to spend on books.
Xu Chengyue’s writings were not serious literature, and she lacked fame. No one would buy her books under a proper title.
The first step was to sell the book and attract readers.
Xu Chengyue used her persuasive talents and discussed with Lu Hongzhuo to give away the first volume for free, foregoing the manuscript fee, to draw readers in.
This was the icebreaker.
Lu Hongzhuo, himself a merchant’s son, wouldn’t normally undertake a losing deal.
Yet he had vision and found Xu Chengyue’s book novel and unprecedented.
It might spark a sensation across the Tang Empire.
Then the phrase “paper scarce in Luoyang” would cease to be mere legend.
Moreover, he genuinely liked the book and wished to support Xu Chengyue in continuing to write it.
Thus, they reached an agreement.
As Xu Chengyue stepped out from the door leading to the bookstore ahead, she caught sight of the shopkeeper feigning calm while standing in a corner behind the counter, pretending not to hear anything.
---
She glanced at the statue of Guan Yu.
Since the day they discussed the contract, she had noticed something off about the shopkeeper’s expression.
Now, seeing the statue, she understood.
“The shopkeeper’s heart isn’t sincere. Why is the incense bowl chipped?” Xu Chengyue teased.
The incense wasn’t there when she entered; it must have been hastily placed by the shopkeeper.
After they arrived, the shopkeeper found a bowl and lit incense to offer to Guan Yu, hoping to rouse some sense in the gentleman.
Yet it had no effect; the gentleman was about to sell the bookstore out of despair.
The shopkeeper was heartbroken.
No, he had to warn the gentleman.
---
Xu Chengyue, feeling somewhat guilty for having persuaded Lu Hongzhuo, hastened to finish the second volume.
In truth, she had no outline—she wrote whatever came to mind, following only a rough framework to avoid straying.
Soon the second volume was done, and she delivered the manuscript to the bookstore.
Lu Hongzhuo, anxiously awaiting, had been doubtful when she claimed she could write three thousand characters a day.
Though the book was in colloquial language, he knew many writers spent nearly a month composing and revising a single article.
He had even relaxed the contract terms, making no rigid word count demands and agreeing that failure to meet quotas was acceptable.
Unexpectedly, Xu Chengyue’s speed was truly remarkable.
Overjoyed, Lu Hongzhuo praised, “Madam, your writing is divine—twenty thousand characters in just a few days. You must be a literary star descended upon us.”
His words were exaggerated flattery.
Xu Chengyue was numb from the rainbow-like praise.
He eagerly began reading the manuscript. The cliffhanger at the end of the first volume had tormented him for days, invading his dreams.
He even imagined what might happen next, though only typical romantic tropes came to mind, which fell short of the first volume’s dramatic twists.
Lu Hongzhuo read attentively.
Expecting to be satisfied, he was left feeling emptier than before.
Frowning anxiously, he asked, “Madam Xu, why does it end here?”
“Of course it must end here. Otherwise, what would attract readers?” Xu Chengyue replied matter-of-factly.
If readers were satisfied after one chapter, they would all leave.
Hearing this, Lu Hongzhuo felt even more sorrowful. Would he always suffer this bittersweet torment whenever he read?
When not reading, he was desperate to; when finished, he was even more desperate.
When would this ever end?
Then he realized he wasn’t alone—there were many readers too.
Yes, precisely, the story had to be written this way, so others could share his pain.
---
Because the first volume failed to sell initially, by the time they offered the buy-one-get-one deal, the second volume was nearly complete.
Once the first volume sold out, the second would be released.
Placing the newly delivered second volume of “Divine Doctor, Poisonous Consort” on the counter, the shopkeeper sighed deeply.
He despised the prodigal gentleman, certain this book would never sell. He was just waiting to witness the farce unfold.