Targeted

"You sold them to other people as well?" Jia Yanming frowned. That would never do. The reason Bidan Teahouse had become so popular was precisely because Lin Zheyu told brand-new stories. Not only were they extraordinarily gripping, but they were also exclusive to Bidan Teahouse; they couldn't be heard anywhere else. If audiences could hear them in other teahouses too, patrons would have plenty of alternatives and wouldn't necessarily come to theirs. "That won't work. Do you have anything exclusive? Let me take a look first," Jia Yanming said. Inwardly, he was astounded by Lin Zheyu's creative output. Not only was Lin Zheyu telling a new tale at Bidan Teahouse, but he could also supply other storytellers with completely different, remarkably brilliant material. If he could still produce another story to sell exclusively to them, that would be truly astonishing. "I came prepared." "I originally intended to turn this tale into a series, but Master Liang said he prefers martial artist stories, so I wrote a different one. That left this tale with nowhere to be told." "Since I have no use for it now, I might as well sell it to you," Lin Zheyu said with a smile, deliberately mentioning Master Liang to create a deterrent against Jia Yanming. He wasn't sure whether Master Liang's name carried enough weight. "Master Liang? Which Master Liang?" Jia Yanming accepted the manuscript, asking in a seemingly casual tone. "Master Liang Song. I've already formally taken him as my master," Lin Zheyu replied. *Liang Song?* Jia Yanming pondered for a moment, and the image of a lame old man rose in his mind. He had heard his brother mention this man before. Supposedly, his skills were formidable, though he rarely made a move and maintained an extremely low profile. Jia Yanming made a mental note of the name, intending to question Jia Yanyong about it in detail once he returned. He quickly skimmed through the manuscript Lin Zheyu had provided. It was a story about a scholar, part of the same series Lin Zheyu had told earlier at Bidan Teahouse. "Splendid!" "As expected of Master Lin. To write so many fantastic tales, 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 exceptionally captivating. In Jia Yanming's decades of experience and discerning eye, they were guaranteed to be hits. "How about I round off the change and call it five hundred wen?" Jia Yanming: "..." Jia Yanming narrowed his eyes, his brows slightly knitted, giving him a look that said, *Do you take me for an idiot?* "Haha, just joking. I'll give you a discount—four hundred and fifty wen, firm price," Lin Zheyu chuckled. "Fine, four hundred and fifty wen it is." Jia Yanming agreed briskly. The quality of these two tales was superb. With them in hand, Yixiang Teahouse's business would flourish even more. "Manager Jia is indeed straightforward! Here, let me propose a toast to you!" Lin Zheyu raised his cup, in high spirits. Not only had he resolved a potential headache, but he would also earn an extra four hundred and fifty wen every day. Adding the three storytellers, his daily extra income came out to six hundred and ninety wen. *** Baishan District. Gao Yu looked at Skinny Monkey, who lay on the sickbed hovering on the brink of death, his brow heavily furrowed. The physician had just examined him and confirmed it was poison. Even if cured, the man would likely be crippled for life, incapable of performing heavy labor. "Brother Yu... you... you have to avenge me!" Skinny Monkey looked at Gao Yu, speaking with great difficulty. "Boss, what do we do about this? Should we report it to the authorities?" another man asked. "Report to the authorities? Are you out of your mind?" "We failed at thievery and got poisoned instead. If we report it, do you want the yamen runners to arrest us?" Gao Yu snapped furiously, utterly agitated. In all his years of petty theft and swindling, this was the first time he had ever run into a ruthless bastard who smeared poison on sharp spikes along his walls. "This matter definitely can't end like this!" Gao Yu gritted his teeth, his voice dripping with venom. This was the first time he had ever suffered a loss at the hands of an outsider without any clan backing like Lin Zheyu. Gao Yu refused to believe he couldn't deal with a frail scholar. "Yan Ling, Wen Biao, keep an eye on that Lin Zheyu for me. Watch his daily movements, and at the same time, scout the surroundings around where he lives," Gao Yu ordered. He was determined not to let this slide. Lin Zheyu was merely a destitute scholar who had fled as a refugee from Jiunan City. Even if he made a bit of coin now, he lacked any background—wouldn't he still be entirely at their mercy? It was only slightly troublesome because the fellow stayed in the inner city, where public order was strictly enforced, making it harder to take action. "Brother Yu, are we going to make a move in the inner city?" Wen Biao asked, feeling uneasy. If they struck in the inner city and were discovered, the punishment would be severe. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." "All we need is to find a deserted spot where no one is around, and make sure we aren't seen." "He's just an orphaned refugee who fled here. Even if he disappears, nobody will stand up for him," Gao Yu said. "Are we really going to kill him?" Yan Ling asked with some reluctance. Though he engaged in petty thievery and had committed plenty of misdeeds, he had never killed anyone. "That depends on whether the brat knows what's good for him. If he's sensible and coughs up enough compensation, we can spare his life," Gao Yu replied coldly. After some discussion, the group drew up a simple plan. *** Having reached an agreement with Jia Yanming, Lin Zheyu breathed a sigh of relief. He no longer needed to worry about the man's younger brother from the Feihong Gang coming to pick a fight or ambushing him. Even so, Lin Zheyu did not dismantle the traps in his courtyard. The world was fraught with danger, and living alone in Songyi City, it was always wiser to maintain precautions. Time flew by, and six days passed in the blink of an eye. Lin Zheyu's days went quite well. His team of storytellers steadily grew, expanding to nine people, though the fee had dropped slightly to fifty wen per person per day. The revenue contributed by the nine storytellers, combined with the income from supplying manuscripts to Yixiang Teahouse and his own storytelling earnings, reached roughly one thousand five hundred wen. That was equivalent to around one tael of silver.