Chapter Nine: Damn, I'm a Genius

Boss Hu wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Though his heart was filled with frustration, he dared not let it show.

Gou Ye calmly counted on his fingers as he laid out his terms, “Thirty percent commission, Boss Hu, you agreed to that. Please make sure that every time you release a new batch of booklets, I see the accounts at least once a month. Boss Hu, do not tamper with the records. No matter what you do, I will always find out. Should I discover any tricks, we can terminate our partnership right then and there. Now, for the monthly labor fee: if I can produce twenty drafts a month, totaling at least two hundred thousand characters, you’ll pay me thirty taels for the effort. One tael a day—not much at all.”

Boss Hu pursed his lips. Beside him, Yun Niang was so astonished she could not utter a word. What surprised her was not how much Gou Ye was about to earn, but that, having grown up with him, she’d never noticed he had such a sharp mind. Today, his words were cogent and well-reasoned, so different from the Gou Ye she once knew. And he’d cooked those delicious dishes for her, helped her mother alter clothes—what had happened to Gou Ye? Was this still the same person she’d known? Could it be that the fever from his recent illness had somehow improved his mind? Thinking this, she reached out to touch Gou Ye’s forehead, leaving him baffled.

“For completed books, let’s decide the payment by sales. If sales are good, you pay me more; if they’re poor, you pay less. Let’s settle the price based on every ten thousand copies sold—how about that?”

This lad, with just a few words, aimed to take three hundred sixty taels from me every year, not counting the commission. The fee for finished works wasn’t even set yet, but it wouldn’t be low. At this moment, Gou Ye was no longer a ragged pauper in Boss Hu’s eyes, but had become a businessman—nay, a shrewd merchant, just like himself.

“Sir, to be honest, this puts me in a difficult position. How about this: you don’t have to deliver two hundred thousand characters every month. No matter how many words you complete, I’ll pay you ten taels each month. As for the finished book fee, how about we settle it now—say, one hundred taels?”

Damn, the old fellow! As expected, merchants are never without their shrewdness; with a few words, he shaved off more than half the price. Gou Ye would not yield so easily; he shook his head, sipped his tea, and did not answer.

Boss Hu, seeing this, was unsure whether Gou Ye agreed or not. The two sat, sizing each other up, the air heavy with tension and silence. No one dared breathe; even the noise outside seemed to fade away.

In the end, it was Boss Hu who could not keep his composure. He slammed the table so hard the lid of his tea cup rattled. “Let’s do as you say, sir: thirty percent commission, twenty drafts per month, thirty taels at month’s end, and the fee for completed books to be discussed later between us.”

Gou Ye immediately beamed, looking as if Boss Hu were an old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in years. Cheerfully, Gou Ye handed over the few manuscripts he had and drew up a contract with Boss Hu; both signed and sealed it as proof. Afterwards, Boss Hu treated Gou Ye and Yun Niang to a sumptuous meal, and at dusk arranged for his men to drive them back to Tumeng Village.

On the road, Yun Niang could not contain her curiosity any longer and asked Gou Ye, “Big Brother Gou Ye, we’ve grown up together, but I never realized you had such talent. Since recovering from your illness, you seem like a different person.”

Her words were gentle, but Gou Ye thought to himself, Silly girl, not only have I changed, but your old big brother Gou is gone. The new one is far better. When I make my fortune, you’ll live a good life.

“Yun Niang, you know, I never expected to recover from that illness. Before, you stayed by my side while I was half dead, living on medicine every day. I always had so many ideas, but never the chance to show them. Now, this recovery is a gift from heaven—a chance to fulfill my ambitions. You’ll see, Yun Niang, I’ll earn plenty of money and make sure you live well.”

Hearing this, Yun Niang blushed, murmuring, “What are you saying? You’re earning money for yourself—not for me to live well.”

Gou Ye unwittingly spoke his thoughts aloud, making the atmosphere a bit awkward, so he laughed it off.

Back in the village, Gou Ye escorted Yun Niang home and saw her mother still weaving the plaid shirts he’d described. Looking toward the bed, four shirts had already been made.

Gou Ye hurried over, picked one up to examine it, and couldn’t resist trying it on. Though the shirt still followed the traditional style, its lines and patterns felt so familiar to him. Ah, the long-lost plaid shirt! Who’d have thought he’d see it here?

He scrutinized the finished shirts, marveling at Yun Niang’s mother’s skill. In just one day, the shirts already took shape. With a few adjustments, they’d surely stand out even more. Of course, plaid shirts were usually worn by men; he’d need to study women’s styles in the future.

“Gou Ye, are my shirts any good?” Yun Niang’s mother asked, uncertain. It was her first attempt at a style so different from the current fashions. Truthfully, she wasn’t confident—would anyone buy such shirts? Tomorrow, she’d take them to the market; if they didn’t sell, she’d revert to the old designs and chalk it up to Gou Ye’s good intentions.

“Of course! Auntie, your skill is impeccable. Tomorrow I’ll go to the market with you, and with the nearly finished shirt in your hands, we’ll have five plaid shirts. I promise I’ll sell them all.”

Yun Niang’s mother couldn’t bear to discourage Gou Ye, seeing his confident manner. But Yun Niang was different—today, she’d witnessed his transformation and now trusted him without reason.

“Yun Niang, I’ll head home first. Tomorrow morning I’ll come for you and Auntie. To sell well, I need to prepare something tonight.” With that, Gou Ye bid farewell and went home.

In the middle of the night, Gou Ye ventured home in the dark, suddenly missing the streetlights of the modern world—what convenience they were! This forested stone path was pitch black and terrifying.

Suddenly, a barking dog startled him. Gou Ye shrieked, looking down to find Little Fatty from Aunt Wang’s house.

“Little Fatty! Are you trying to scare someone to death?”

Gou Ye beat his chest and carried Little Fatty back to Aunt Wang’s doghouse, but the pup refused to go inside, always coming out after being put in, circling the kennel. Gou Ye didn’t pay much attention—he wanted to call out to Aunt Wang but, seeing it was late, didn’t want to disturb her rest.

Once home, Gou Ye quickly found a half-length wooden board, pasted a thin layer of paper over it, and boldly wrote eight large characters on it. Lying in bed, reflecting on the day’s events, Gou Ye sighed, “I really am a genius!” And with that, he fell fast asleep.