First Prince Qin Sheng was, by nature, a cautious man—some might even say timid.
Though bold on rare occasions, his default mode was prudence bordering on paranoia.
Thus, despite the agonizing pain of severing his most lucrative venture, he wasted no time executing the decision to close ChangLe Gambling Den.
One moment, the capital's citizens were passionately condemning the den's corruption—
The next, they found its once-bustling gates barred without warning.
Bolder souls knocked, then scaled the walls when met with silence—
Only to discover the establishment abandoned mid-operation.
Dice, dominoes, even scattered coins and silver fragments lay forgotten in corners—
Evidence of a panicked retreat.
This discovery ignited a frenzy—
Like oil splashed into boiling water, the crowd erupted.
Soon, opportunistic scavengers swarmed the vacant den, pocketing anything of value without shame.
"We're just reclaiming what they cheated from us!"
Their justification swayed others, and the den's corpse became a playground for the idle poor.
(Though this scavenger era would come later.)
At present, beyond select observers, few knew of the den's abrupt closure—
Among those in the know was Fifth Prince Qin Hao, Qin Sheng's longtime rival.
He'd received word almost as Zhao Er'gou fled—
And rushed to Prince Li Manor to deliver the "good news" to his Third Brother and...
Brother-in-law.
**Qin Hao burst into Prince Li's study, brimming with excitement to share the news—**
Only to find both Qin Lu and Gu Yanshu utterly unfazed, their heads barely lifting from their work.
"You already knew?"
"No." Gu Yanshu marked his ledger without looking up.
"Then why no reaction?" Qin Hao's enthusiasm faltered.
"Expected outcomes warrant no fanfare." Another notation punctuated his words.
Qin Hao's face twisted briefly—
That familiar sting of intellectual inferiority.
(He'd made peace with being outmatched days ago.)
Regaining composure, he pressed on:
"Shouldn't we... intercept Zhao Er'gou? Make him pay?"
Vengeance against the slimy overseer tempted him sorely.
Gu Yanshu set down his brush: "Unwise."
"Why?"
"First, chasing lackeys demeans your station. Second, Eldest Prince is already humiliated—why provoke him further over a pawn?"
His tone remained measured as he opened another ledger:
"Even cornered dogs bite. Leave retreating foes an exit."
Qin Hao recognized the wisdom—his impulsive idea had been pure pique.
"Brother-in-law speaks wisely." He conceded readily.
As silence resumed, Gu Yanshu reviewed two more ledgers before summoning Xing Ren with murmured instructions.
Taking up a book, he skimmed rapidly—
Qin Hao observed Gu Yanshu's movements, assuming he had finished his work, and seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation.
"Brother-in-law, a few days ago, Third Brother asked me to send over those storytellers you requested?"
"Mn, indeed." Gu Yanshu nodded slightly, flipping swiftly through the book in his hands.
"What does Brother-in-law plan to do with them?"
Having been occupied with spreading rumors to trouble Qin Sheng, Qin Hao had sent the storytellers without question when Qin Lu asked.
Now that he had free time, his curiosity about Gu Yanshu's intentions naturally surfaced.
This time, however, Qin Hao didn't receive an answer from Gu YanShu—because Qin Lu, who had been silently reviewing official documents beside them, spoke first:
"Yanshu has two teahouses among his dowry properties. Noticing their lack of patrons, he wanted to bring in storytellers to improve business."
"Is that so?"
Qin Hao didn't quite believe it. After the events of the past few days, Gu Yanshu's standing in his mind had risen to near-equal footing with Qin Lu.
In Qin Hao's eyes, everything Gu Yanshu did carried deeper meaning.
Simply hiring storytellers to boost teahouse revenue didn't seem like something Gu Yanshu would bother with.
Of course, Gu Yanshu understood why Qin Lu had said this—
He was protecting Gu Yanshu's image as a strategic mastermind in Qin Hao's eyes, in case the storytellers failed to meet expectations.
Though Gu Yanshu didn't particularly care about maintaining such an image, he wouldn't reject Qin Lu's thoughtful gesture.
His fingers paused briefly on the pages before he affirmed Qin Hao's question:
"Indeed, that's the case."
"So it really is just that..."
Disappointed that reality fell short of his expectations, Qin Hao couldn't help but feel let down.
Yet soon after, another thought occurred to him:
"Those storytellers are rather mediocre. If Brother-in-law uses them, the results might not be ideal. Should I find more skilled ones for you?"
"No need." Gu Yanshu turned another page, declining the offer. "This is just an initial trial."
"Very well. If Brother-in-law finds them unsatisfactory later, just let me know—I'll help you find replacements."
Since Gu Yanshu refused, Qin Hao didn't press further, only promising his assistance if needed.
"Mn." This time, Gu Yanshu didn't reject Qin Hao's goodwill, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
As they spoke, Xing Ren returned, stepping through the doorway—
Followed by several plainly dressed individuals.
Qin Hao recognized them at a glance: among them were the very storytellers they had just discussed.
Alongside them were a few accountants who had long served in the Prince's residence.
Just as Qin Hao wondered why Xing Ren had brought these people to the study, he saw them approach Gu Yanshu's desk.
"This servant pays respects to His Highness, the Princess Consort, and the Fifth Prince."
"You've arrived?" Gu Yanshu closed the book he'd been reading and looked up. "No need for formalities."
"Thank you, Princess Consort."
With a wave of his hand, Gu Yanshu picked up the reviewed account books:
"First, regarding the accountants—your work is commendable, though I've noted minor issues in the margins. Review my annotations and ask if anything remains unclear."
The efficiency of Prince Li Manor's accountants was remarkable.
In just a few days since learning double-entry bookkeeping, they'd already re-copied all previous accounts using the new method.
The ledgers Gu Yanshu had been examining were their revised submissions.
The accountants promptly collected the books and studied them carefully.
After roughly the time it takes incense to burn, they reported back:
"Your annotations are thorough, Princess Consort. We have no further questions."
"Good. From now on, all estate accounts will use this method."
Gu Yanshu nodded slightly, unsurprised:
"The transition may cause initial difficulties. Be extra diligent during this period to avoid errors."
"Understood." The accountants bowed in unison.
"You've all worked hard recopying these ledgers. Accounting staff will receive double wages this month. You may withdraw."
Gu Yanshu always believed in clear rewards for merit.
His corporate experience proved targeted incentives boosted productivity—a principle he applied liberally.
True to form, the accountants' faces lit up at the promise of doubled pay:
"Gratitude for Your Highness's generosity! We take our leave!"
After dismissing them, Gu Yanshu turned to the storytellers with the books he'd just finished:
"Now, your evaluation."
The storytellers immediately straightened their postures.
This wasn't their first critique session.
Since arriving at Prince Li Manor, Gu Yanshu had summoned them multiple times—
Each meeting requiring new story openings for review.
And each time, he'd pinpointed flaws:
"Too verbose."
"Not direct enough."
Back they went for revisions.
A simple beginning had been rewritten countless times.
**Today's summons to the study had filled the storytellers with familiar dread—**
Until witnessing the accountants' doubled wages kindled hopeful greed:
If we perform well, might we too receive such rewards?
Just as this thought took root, Gu Yanshu delivered rare praise:
"I've reviewed your latest drafts. Your phrasing has improved significantly."
Tension drained from their shoulders—
Their first commendation in days.
But the respite proved fleeting as Gu Yanshu pivoted:
"However, your plots remain stale and predictable."
Hardened by repeated critiques, they accepted this calmly:
"How might we improve, Your Highness?"
"Add twists. Subvert expectations."
Gu Yanshu flipped open Storyteller Liu's manuscript—
A classic merchant's daughter funds ungrateful scholar trope:
"Your opening follows convention—the scholar achieves fame, then abandons his benefactress for an official's daughter."
He anticipated both clichéd endings without letting Liu speak:
"Option one: The wife resigns herself to becoming a meek second wife."
"Option two: She protests but ultimately leaves, letting him enjoy his new life unscathed."
Having endured similar tales during his convalescence, Gu Yanshu could predict these arcs blindfolded.
Storyteller Liu's startled nod confirmed his guesses.
"If even I—a novice—foresee these endings, imagine how jaded regular listeners are."
"They... probably could." Liu admitted reluctantly.
After all, audiences had indeed guessed his plot twists mid-performance before.
Unconcerned with Storyteller Liu's emotional state, Gu Yanshu pressed further with a piercing question:
"Do you think audiences would enjoy stories whose endings they can predict from the start?"
"No." Liu shook his head numbly, thoroughly chastened.
But Gu Yanshu hadn't critiqued merely to criticize:
"Therefore, the plots must be more dynamic—full of unexpected twists that captivate listeners."
Liu recognized the wisdom in this, yet after much pondering, found himself at a loss:
"But how might we craft such surprising developments? Might the Princess Consort enlighten us?"
"The solution is simple—subvert conventions."
Since Liu had asked sincerely, Gu Yanshu elaborated:
"Take your 'Merchant's Daughter and the Ungrateful Scholar' tale. Shift the perspective entirely to the daughter's viewpoint."
"Keep the established setup, but radically alter the resolution:"
"The daughter, noticing her husband's prolonged absence, travels to the capital only to discover his betrayal."
"Heartbroken yet resolute, she immediately divorces him."
"Then demands repayment for all his examination expenses."
"Exposes his deceit to his superior."
"Upon reclaiming her funds, she focuses on expanding her family business."
"Meanwhile, the official's daughter also divorces the scholar upon learning the truth."
"His career prospects ruined by scandal."
"When he later crawls back begging forgiveness—"
"The merchant daughter has him thrown out!"
"He dies destitute and alone!"
Gu Yanshu grew increasingly animated, even forgetting his tea as he dictated the characters' fates:
"As for the merchant daughter and official's daughter? They remarry happily to worthy men."
Liu hadn't expected such detailed guidance from a casual question.
Admittedly, Gu Yanshu's version—with its unconventional perspective and developments—
Perfectly achieved the promised "unpredictability."
Strangely satisfying too.
Yet when considering actually writing this, Liu hesitated:
"This..."
"Problem?" Gu Yanshu arched a brow.
"The plot is excellent but... somewhat..." Liu trailed off, struggling for words.
Qin Hao, observing nearby, bluntly finished:
"Shocking."
"Exactly!" Liu seized the lifeline. "How could women so easily divorce their husbands?"
Gu Yanshu, shaped by the post-apocalyptic era's egalitarian values, countered without hesitation:
"If your scholar can abandon his benefactor wife after achieving fame—even enjoy multiple concubines—why can't she divorce him?"
"This..."
Storyteller Liu found himself speechless.
He'd wanted to argue women aren't men's equals—
But something in Gu Yanshu's piercing gaze strangled the words in his throat.
Indeed—if the scoundrel scholar could prosper after betrayal—
Why shouldn't the wronged wife reclaim her autonomy?
With Liu silenced, Gu Yanshu waved a decisive hand:
"Since you've no justification, write it as I've outlined."
"But audiences may reject such unconventional tales," Liu ventured weakly.
"Audience preferences aren't yours to presume," Gu Yanshu dismissed. "Write it first—marketing isn't your concern."
Cornered, Liu could only nod miserably.
Having settled Liu's resistance, Gu Yanshu turned to the other storytellers—
Imparting modern narrative techniques that left them awestruck:
"Golden Three Chapters hook"
"Adversity-to-triumph arcs"
"Opening micro-climaxes"
"Unpredictable reversals"
By session's end, the storytellers understood why their tales paled in comparison—
Gu Yanshu's examples rendered their work embarrassingly derivative.
After coaching the final storyteller, Gu Yanshu drained his teacup, throat parched:
"Any remaining questions?"
"None!" They shook their heads vigorously—
Having been spoon-fed plot structures, admitting confusion would shame them.
"Then complete manuscripts by mid-next month."
Twenty-thousand characters with pre-designed arcs—
A month sufficed comfortably.
Meanwhile, Gu Yanshu would renovate his dowry teahouses—
What use were storytellers and scripts without proper venues?
"Understood!"
The storytellers bowed deeply, their expressions unburdened—
The assignment clearly manageable.
Though the deadline wasn't overly tight, it left little room for delay. The storytellers bowed hastily and hurried from the study—clearly eager to begin their work.
Once they'd gone, Qin Hao finally spoke up:
"Brother-in-law..."
Gu Yanshu looked up from his now-cleared desk. "Hm?"
"That story you mentioned earlier..." Qin Hao hesitated.
"Which one?"
With four storytellers present and five tales discussed, Gu Yanshu wasn't sure which had caught Qin Hao's attention.
"The one about the merchant's daughter and the ungrateful scholar."
Qin Hao had been so absorbed in that particular plot that he'd barely registered the others.
"Do you truly believe the merchant's daughter should divorce him?"
"Of course." Gu Yanshu didn't hesitate. "Why keep such a backstabbing ingrate? Better to cut ties before he bleeds you dry."
His tone dripped with disdain—clearly holding no sympathy for the scholar's actions.
Qin Hao's expression grew even more peculiar at this.
A writer's words often revealed their true beliefs.
Given how firmly Gu Yanshu advocated for the woman's right to divorce—and how ruthlessly he'd condemned the scholar to a life of poverty—Qin Hao couldn't help but wonder:
"What if Third Brother ever wronged you? Would you—"
Before he could finish the thought, Qin Lu interjected sharply:
"Unnecessary concerns, Fifth Brother. Your brother-in-law is no helpless merchant's daughter, and I am certainly no destitute, faithless scholar."
Only then did Qin Hao realize he'd spoken aloud.
Gu Yanshu's gaze turned unsettling—a faint, knowing smile playing at his lips that sent a chill down Qin Hao's spine.
Just as he scrambled for an explanation, Bai Zhu burst into the study, his expression grim:
"Young Master, we have a problem."