Chapter Eight: Feng Yuan's Solution

"Feng Yuan, what are you doing? That’s the only place on Book Street where you can get your book published! If you don’t sell it to him, who will you sell it to?" Zhang the Fatty said anxiously, staring at Feng Yuan.

Feng Yuan looked at Zhang and smiled faintly. "I’m not selling it."

"What? Why not? There’s so much money to be made. Are you out of your mind?"

"I’m not crazy. I just thought of a better way to make money."

"What way?"

"You’ll find out soon enough. Come on, let’s go to the Prefectural Academy," Feng Yuan said, then strode off toward the academy.

"What are we going there for?" Zhang asked, confused, quickly following after.

The Prefectural Academy was where Feng Yuan and Zhang had studied before failing the scholar’s exam. It was a government-run school attended by all the city’s students—hundreds of them.

That Wang Lin wanted to buy Feng Yuan’s book for one tael of silver—far too cheap. One tael was a thousand copper coins. As Zhang had said, that "Legend of Immortal Fate" could sell for a hundred coins a copy. Sell just a hundred copies and that’s ten taels—after costs, at least eight taels profit.

Before he was transported here, Feng Yuan had been a sly street hustler, always taking advantage of others, never the other way around. So naturally, he refused to sell.

Of course, he knew that refusing Wang Lin meant there’d be no way to publish the book. But Feng Yuan had another plan—a better one.

On their way to the academy, they stopped to buy a small gift. This was for Feng Yuan’s teacher at the academy, Scholar He, as he would need a favor from him soon.

The academy was in the city center, right beside the Prefect’s administrative offices—the equivalent of a modern county government, with the Prefect as mayor.

Scholar He, Feng Yuan’s teacher, was a licentiate and an eighth-rank minor official in charge of education—essentially the principal.

After winding through the bustling streets, they soon arrived at the academy, where three or four hundred students were reciting their lessons in unison.

Feng Yuan and Zhang headed straight for the back courtyard, where Scholar He lived and worked. As they entered, they caught sight of the fifty-something Scholar He embracing a young, beautiful woman, locked in intimate affection.

Such scenes were common in this era. The law allowed men to have three wives and four concubines, and as long as you had money, no one cared how many you married.

"This old guy has no shame. A teacher, behaving so wantonly in broad daylight... It’s—well, frankly, I’m jealous," Zhang muttered with a mix of envy and resentment.

Feng Yuan rolled his eyes and walked over, clearing his throat gently. "Teacher, your student Feng Yuan has come to see you."

Scholar He, caught up in his excitement, was startled and let out a yelp, accidentally dropping the woman in his arms, who shrieked as she hit the ground.

"Ahem… Ah, Feng Yuan, Zhang Zhen, what brings you here?" Scholar He said awkwardly. "Don’t misunderstand just now—my concubine got sand in her eye, and I was just blowing it out, that’s all! Don’t think too much of it!"

Even though multiple wives were common, a teacher indulging in such behavior in broad daylight was frowned upon, so Scholar He hurried to explain.

"What just happened? Teacher, my eyes haven’t been good lately, I didn’t see anything at all—just you sitting there drinking tea. Was there anyone else?" Feng Yuan said with feigned innocence.

"Right, I was lost in thought and didn’t see a thing," Zhang chimed in.

"Very good," Scholar He replied, smoothing his beard and regaining his composure. "So, what brings you two here?"

Feng Yuan smiled. "It’s like this, Teacher: I’ve written a novel and would like to post it on the academy wall for students to read. Would that be possible?"

"That… might be difficult," Scholar He frowned. "This is an academy, devoted to exam studies. If the Prefect were to hear of novels being circulated, it would be a serious offense."

Feng Yuan smiled, producing the gift. "I nearly forgot—this is a token of my gratitude for your guidance, Teacher."

Scholar He’s eyes lit up at the sight. He quickly accepted the gift and handed it to his concubine, beaming. "A promising student indeed! My efforts haven’t been wasted."

"Thank you for your praise, Teacher. So, about the novel…?"

"Well, circulating novels isn’t appropriate, but perhaps not impossible. Students need the occasional diversion to better their studies. I’ll speak to the Prefect. Go ahead and post it, and I’ll encourage the students to read it," Scholar He said.

"Thank you, Teacher. I’ll take my leave for now and won’t disturb your rest. I’ll inform you once the posting is done." Feng Yuan and Zhang bowed, then left.

"That old man! What a hypocrite—he’s a different person before and after taking a gift," Zhang complained angrily.

"Calm down, that’s how the world works. Learn from this—it’ll serve you well," Feng Yuan said, patting Zhang’s shoulder as they walked out.

"Hey, Feng Yuan, weren’t you going to post your novel? Why are we leaving?"

"I’m going home to write out a big copy. This one’s too small to read easily."

"But what’s the point? Aren’t you losing money by letting people read for free?"

"Losing money? Hmph, there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world."

…

That afternoon, Feng Yuan and Zhang returned to the academy, carrying the freshly written manuscript—a huge roll of white paper, over twenty meters long, with twenty thousand characters penned across it.

Once inside, Feng Yuan greeted Scholar He, then set about posting the scroll on the wall. The academy was spacious, and there was plenty of room.

Scholar He summoned a few students to help, and soon the scroll was up, instantly drawing a crowd of curious students.

Facing the assembled students, Scholar He announced, "Everyone, this is a novel written by your senior, Feng Yuan—a budding scholar. I hope you’ll read it carefully and share your thoughts."

"Fellow students, I leave it to you!" Feng Yuan said, stepping aside so they could read.

These students were sick of exam essays and pounced at the chance to read a novel, jostling for position, craning their necks to get a look. Scholar He joined the crowd, while Feng Yuan watched from the side.

At first, the students were boisterous, chatting and arguing, but soon they fell silent. In an instant, the academy was so quiet that the drop of a needle could be heard.

Feng Yuan smiled in satisfaction; his story had captured their attention.

"Feng Yuan, I still don’t understand—how are you going to make money from this? Tell me!" Zhang asked, desperate for answers.

"You’ll find out soon enough," Feng Yuan replied, wearing a mysterious smile.

This only made Zhang more impatient.