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Chapter 62 - Chapter 62

Gu Yanshu had no idea that ​Zhou Wenyan's mind had raced through so many revelations​ in those brief moments.

His attention was entirely on ​Qin Lu's unexpected arrival.​​

​​"Your Highness, what brings you here?"​​

​​"Just finished duties at the Ministry of War. Heard you were here, so I took a detour."​​

The sheer delight on Gu Yanshu's face made Qin Lu's fingers itch—

So he indulged himself, ruffling Gu Yanshu's hair before straightening the slightly disheveled cloak draped over his shoulders.

​​"Oh~ Just a detour, is it?"​​

Gu Yanshu's eyes sparkled with amusement.

From the Ministry of War, neither the military camp nor Prince Li's residence was anywhere near ​Guiyuanju.​​

Anyone could see Qin Lu had ​gone out of his way.​​

​​"How did the negotiations go?"​​ Qin Lu ignored the teasing, his expression unreadable.

Gu Yanshu almost pouted.

Back when we first married, this little deer's ears would've turned red at being caught in a white lie.

Now? A seasoned veteran, unshakable as a mountain.

Still, he answered dutifully:

​​"Smoothly. Final price was 250,000 taels—exactly as I predicted."​​

​​"Do you have enough funds?"​​ Qin Lu wasn't surprised.

​​"Plenty. The teahouses and Taoranju have been thriving, especially Yaoyue Pavilion."​​

Gu Yanshu nodded without hesitation.

The recent ​480,000-tael purchase​ of the Zhou family's silk trade had strained his reserves—

But ​glassware's explosive popularity​ and Yaoyue Pavilion's ​high-end membership system​ had replenished them swiftly.

(Two noblewomen had even splurged on ​black-tier memberships, instantly adding ​20,000 taels​ to his coffers.)

His eyes curved into crescents at the memory:

​​"Not only enough—soon, I might even be the one supporting Your Highness!"​​

Another man might've taken offense at such a remark from his wife.

Qin Lu, however, merely nodded solemnly:

​​"Good. This prince will rely on you then."​​

Nearby, ​Zhige​ adopted the perfect expression of "I see and hear nothing."

Don't ask. Just know His Highness is ​thrilled​ at the prospect of being a kept man.

Gu Yanshu's smile deepened, his gaze luminous as he looked at Qin Lu:

​​"Is this Your Highness's first visit to Guiyuanju? Shall I give you a tour?"​​

​​"Mn."​​

Of course Qin Lu wouldn't refuse.

Thus began Gu Yanshu's proud showcase of his ​​"conquered empire"​—

(Ahem, no, his ​business ventures.​​ Ahem.)

Every detail of Guiyuanju bore his design.

Though busy schedules had prevented him from supervising construction personally, he could still ​recite its every feature with intimate familiarity.​​

Qin Lu followed silently, but his attentive gaze left no doubt—he hung on every word.​​

Their leisurely stroll wasn't discreet.

Numerous patrons witnessed it, reigniting capital gossip about ​​"Prince Li and his consort's legendary devotion"​—

(With fresh embellishments, naturally.)

By now, they'd reached the teahouse's recreational quarters.

After inspecting the ​first-floor chess rooms, Gu Yanshu led Qin Lu upstairs to the ​storytelling hall.​​

Timing it perfectly, they caught a session in progress—

An excellent chance to ​evaluate the performer's skills​ while enjoying the tale.

Today's story?

​​The Legend of Chancellor He​—

A recent capital sensation about ​a scholar's rise from peasantry to power.​​

The storyteller sipped tea, cleared his throat, and ​slammed the wooden block​ with theatrical flair—

​​"Last time, we spoke of He San's daring scheme to secretly enroll himself for the imperial exams! Today, we tell of​ ​​*trials multiplied—misfortunes never come singly!​​*​​"​​

At this teaser, the previously relaxed audience ​straightened in their seats, tension rippling through them.​​

Had He San's plans unraveled?

The storyteller continued:

Enrolling himself was the ​boldest act of He San's life.​​

Even after ​a two-hour walk home, his heart still pounded when his parents asked about his younger brother's registration.

Luckily, the He family barely noticed him.

Satisfied that ​He Wu (the favored fifth son)​​ was signed up, they ignored He San's nervous demeanor.

Life resumed its drudgery—

With He Wu "preparing" for the exams, his tutor assigned ​more coursework.​​

Of course, the lazy He Wu dumped it all on He San.

The increased workload meant ​less farm labor from He San—

A discrepancy his parents eventually noticed.

But He Wu, ​complicit in the deception, covered for him.

Though suspicious, the parents' ​blind love for their youngest​ let the lie stand.

Days passed until—

​The eve of the examinations.​​

For a family that had ​never produced even a lowly scholar, this was momentous.

The entire He household ​escorted He Wu to the county seat—

All except He San, ordered to ​stay behind for farmwork.​​

This ​shattered He San's plans.​​

How could he take the exam now?

As the family departed, ​despair gripped him—

Until—

​A miracle.​​

He Wu's tutor arrived unexpectedly.

The truth?

The tutor had ​long known He Wu's essays weren't his own.​​

By chance, he'd discovered ​He San was the true scholar.​​

Suggesting He Wu take the exams was actually ​a test for He San—

If the boy lacked the courage to enroll himself, the tutor would ​let the matter drop.​​

(No use helping those who won't help themselves.)

But He San's initiative proved ​a spark of ambition still burned within him.​​

Moved, the tutor offered salvation:

​​"Go to the exam. I'll handle your farm duties."​​

Overwhelmed with gratitude, He San raced after his family.

Yet another obstacle awaited in town—

​How to enter the exam hall under his parents' noses?​​

As candidates filed in, ​time ticked away​ while his parents lingered outside.

In desperation, He San ​gambled everything.​​

He spent his meager savings on:

​A decent new robe​ from a tailor.​A cheap jade hairpin.​​

Transformed by these, he ​blended into the candidate queue, heart hammering as he ​angled his face away from his parents.​​

(Mentally rehearsing excuses if caught.)

Miraculously—

​They didn't recognize him.​​

During inspection, his father ​seemed to hesitate—

But the ​fine clothing and hairpin​ dismissed his doubts.

Where would that worthless boy get money for such things?

And he's never stepped foot in a schoolhouse—how could he be sitting exams?

Thus, through ​sheer parental neglect, He San slipped into the examination hall—

​His fate hanging in the balance.​​

——

​​"Truly, misfortunes never come singly!"​​

The audience exhaled collectively as He San cleared this hurdle, ​settling back into their chairs—

Eager for the next twists:

Would He San pass?

When would his parents discover the truth?

If successful, how would he navigate the ​higher-level provincial exams?​​

Just as these questions arose—

​​*BANG!​​*

The storyteller's block slammed down, followed by the classic cliffhanger:

​​"To know what happens next—​

​Tune in next time!"​

​"That's it?"​​

​​"It's over already?"​​

​​"But it just started!"​​

The audience instinctively glanced toward the ​incense stick​ marking the performance's duration—only to find it ​completely burned out.​​

Realization dawned:

Today's storyteller hadn't ​cut the session short—in fact, he'd ​generously extended it!​​

Yet disappointment still flickered across their faces.

After weeks of patronage, they knew ​Guiyuanju's ironclad rule:​​

​​*One tale per session. No encores. No extensions.​​*

But soon, their spirits lifted.

Though The Legend of Chancellor He had ended, another master storyteller was preparing to begin Ironhand Constable—

A ​gripping crime thriller​ equally renowned for its ​twists and vivid scenes.​​

Today's installment promised to reveal:

​​*"Who left the headless corpse in the bridal chamber?"​​*

(A mystery that had sparked fierce debates among regulars.)

Some had even made ​wagers—

The losers would treat the correct guessers to tea.

Anticipation reignited as they settled in for the next tale.

——

Meanwhile, ​Gu Yanshu and Qin Lu​ had retreated to the ​third-floor reading lounge—

A world apart from the second floor's lively performances.

Here, ​silence reigned.​​

Patrons spoke ​in hushed tones, if at all.

Those moving between shelves did so with ​exaggerated care, avoiding even the slightest disturbance.

And every seated guest was ​deep in study—

​Transcribing texts with monastic focus, their expressions solemn, their postures rigid with concentration.

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