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Qingyuan 14th year

Jiankang is the city where Zhou Mao lives.As an important town in the south of the Yangtze River, it has well-developed waterway and highway transportation, dense population, and prosperous business. It is almost a place where you can make money as long as you are willing to use your brain.Although Zhou Mao dislikes businessmen like most literati, he has a deeper understanding of money than others.In the last life, his mother delayed her illness and died because she was saving money and refused to ask a doctor to get medicine.So what makes Zhou Mao different from other people is that he looks at problems from the actual situation, and he doesn't have to eat, so how can he care about his integrity!

After practicing with Song Guangling for so long, I can still come up with a few imitations of the characters from the previous dynasty.Zhou Mao ran into the study and dug out some moldy rice paper from the bottom of the pressing box. He splashed ink on it, and within a few moments, he finished with a few big characters that could be bluffing.He looked at it for a while, not very satisfied.As an eight-year-old child's physical condition is limited, it is really impossible to write characters with both spirit and form with a few strokes.No matter how vividly he learns, anyone with a little knowledge can see it.

But Zhou Mao didn't intend to sell it at the price of the real thing, he didn't even frame it.When no one was paying attention, Zhou Mao stuffed a roll of paper into his sleeve and quickly slipped out of the house.

Zhang Shuxiu saw a blue figure passing by the door from a distance, and walked away before she could call to stop.Of course she knew that this was her monkey boy, she lowered her eyes helplessly and continued to sew the clothes in her hand, alas, let him play.

Zhou Maoxiong walked the streets and alleys a lot when he was a child, and he can remember that there is no way to "sell dirty" after a short memory.

"Shushuzhai" Zhou Mao laughed out loud, could this name be better than this place?

Just as he raised his foot to step into the door, Zhou Mao was stopped by a voice.

"Stop, kids, go play at home." A shopkeeper-like man blocked his sight with an abacus, looking fierce like a man-eating ghost.

Ordinary children would have been scared away long ago, but Zhou Mao hadn't been scared for many years. He has been an authentic professional scaring people for 30 years.

Zhou Mao calmly withdrew his foot and stood still at the door without rushing in. He said loudly, "Shopkeeper, wait and see my words."

The shopkeeper didn't want to pay attention to the hairy boy at first, but the words were too big and eye-catching, which immediately attracted his attention.

'Wuhua Tianbao'

What matters is not the content, but the dispensers are amazed by its provenance.It started a hundred years ago, the last emperor of the previous dynasty, he was gentle, refined and fond of writing and ink, especially in calligraphy.Even when the palace was broken, he still wrote the last words in his study. According to legend, he personally gave the words to Emperor Gaozu of this dynasty and committed suicide by taking poison.Gaozu cherished his talent and let him be buried with the emperor's ceremony.Some upper-class nobles began to admire Emperor Ai quietly. Rubbings of poems and prose can be seen everywhere. Gao Zu also appreciated his talent and did not order to destroy it.

With sharp eyesight and quick hands, he pulled Zhou Mao in the door, pulled the paper and inspected it carefully.

With many years of experience in the business, the shopkeeper can tell at a glance that this is a fake. If you take a piece of moldy paper and pretend to be something from a hundred years ago, it is possible to treat everyone else as a fool.What surprised him was the skill of the person who wrote this picture. The strength was a little lacking, and the pen was written in a hurry, but it was coherent and smooth.The shopkeeper thinks that he is well-informed, and there has never been anyone who can imitate the calligraphy of Emperor Ai of the previous dynasty so similarly.If it weren't for the blemish of using ink on the rice paper, he could have mounted it right away, saying to the public that it was a work of pen practice stolen by the eunuch back then.

Zhou Mao was very satisfied with the shopkeeper's expression at the moment.

"How about it? Shopkeeper, would you like to discuss a business with me?"

The shopkeeper turned his eyes and pretended not to care. The old god squinted his eyes and looked at him, and said in a rather mocking tone: "Little baby, do you want to learn how to do business with a piece of torn paper written by hand?"

Zhou Mao didn't care about his contempt, and said: "Broken paper? Ming people don't speak dark words, and those who can recognize handwriting are not ordinary people. When the fire burned the Dezheng Hall, only five copies of the calligraphy of Emperor Ai of the previous dynasty were handed down. There are four copies. Hidden in the palace, I believe you know better than me where these four characters come from. In the deep palace, how many people can see it with their own eyes?"

"Have you seen it?" The shopkeeper obviously didn't believe that an ordinary little doll could see it.

Zhou Mao wanted to say, not only have I seen it, but I also practiced against it for half a month.

He shook his head without thinking, and said 'honestly': "I didn't write the words. Someone asked me to bring them to you. He said he would write a copy for you, so that no one would recognize it. Also, he won't show up. , I will do all the errands for you."

From the moment the shopkeeper saw those four words, he could smell the unlimited business opportunities. As smart as he was, he couldn't agree to it, so he decided to whet the kid's appetite first.

"Hide your head and show your tail. Unless you let him come to me in person, there is no need to talk about it. You can go back."

The shopkeeper grabbed a few sparse beards and tried to turn around to enter, but Zhou Mao was more agile than him.

"The shopkeeper, we are all destined for this."

After speaking, he ran into the alley and disappeared.

Zhou Mao didn't run far, and turned into a firewood pile.

"45, 46, 47..."

"Look there quickly, this little doll runs really fast."

Zhou Mao smiled and watched the shopkeeper come out with a buddy, obviously looking for him.

He won't lose money in this business with anyone. First of all, he has to find the most powerful one without any worries.

Seeing that the shopkeeper was about to smoke in a hurry, he walked out slowly from the corner.

"The shopkeeper is looking for me?"

Zhou Mao smiled sincerely, but the shopkeeper saw a fox tail flicking back and forth behind his buttocks.

Knowing that he had been tricked by a kid, the shopkeeper felt very humiliated, but there was nothing he could do.

He was defeated in one battle, and he could no longer treat Zhou Mao as a child, so his attitude was much more polite this time.

"Young master is really smart, can you go back to the shop with me and talk slowly?"

'Little Son' asked innocently: "Don't you want me to find someone?"

The shopkeeper also smiled 'kindly': "Let's talk first, and we are not in a hurry to find someone."

"Okay!" Zhou Mao said empathetically.

When he came to the side hall, the shopkeeper led him to sit on a mahogany chair.

This side hall is specially decorated... different... Different from the simple and elegant main hall, the world separated by bead curtains is full of famous calligraphy and paintings, antiques and curios, and even the decorations around the windows are gilded.Zhou Mao took a quick glance at the calligraphy and paintings, and found that they were all authentic works.

It shows that the local tyrant who is the owner of this study can make such a huge profit by selling books, there is no other way, who would believe it?

The shopkeeper winked at the waiter who served the tea, and the waiter hurriedly stepped back and closed the shop.

"I don't know what the young master wants to talk about?"

Too lazy to make false promises with a kid, the shopkeeper said straight to the point.

"He only writes one word, you offer a price."

Zhou Mao was also very straightforward. The rarer this kind of thing is, the more valuable it is. He clearly said that there will be no second similarity in the market.

The shopkeeper stroked the goatee, habitually squinted his eyes, and only saw two heavy bags under the eyes on his old face.

"How can I trust you?"

Zhou Mao shrugged, and replied indifferently: "Believe it or not, you want to make this deal, why don't you bet on my character?"

The corner of the shopkeeper's mouth twitched, you will only believe in the character of a little fox after seeing a ghost.But after what Zhou Mao said, the shopkeeper put down a lot of precautions.He has dealt with people all the year round, and he likes to associate with this kind of straightforward people. This kind of people can't be bad at all.

"Young master, why don't you make an offer first, and if it's suitable, we'll talk about the follow-up."

"Two thousand guan." Zhou Mao had an expression of 'then I'm not welcome'.

The shopkeeper leaned back calmly and refused to face Zhou Mao head-on. In fact, he was not sure whether the price was reasonable.

According to Jiankang prices, ten guan can buy an acre of land, and the annual expenditure of ordinary people is only about 50 guan. For them, [-] guan is definitely an astronomical figure.But to the value of Emperor Ai's calligraphy, it's just a drop in the bucket.According to legend, the only word in the market has been sold to [-] coins in the black market.The number of two thousand guan is really not enough.

I believe that the owner will not easily let go of this opportunity, and the shopkeeper made the decision for him.

"I want to see the words."

"It's a deal, shopkeeper, we'll see you tomorrow."

Zhou Mao was afraid that Zhang Shuxiu would be worried after being out for too long, so he patted his ass and left immediately when the deal was finalized.

On the way home, Zhou Mao was worried about a major event. Two thousand yuan is not a small amount. How could the money be transported home unconsciously?

Zhou Mao didn't go home until after noon, but Zhang Shuxiu didn't say anything about him.The lunch on the table was still white porridge. Just as he put down the bowl, the third son hurriedly brought in a plate, which contained a fried egg.

Zhang Shuxiu sat at the side to accompany him to eat, and he could only pretend that he didn't know anything, and just picked it up and ate.Chewing the tender and crispy eggs, Zhou Mao smiled at his mother every time he took a bite, baring his teeth and showing no gestures.Zhang Shuxiu put on a serious face on purpose to make him pay attention to eating, Zhou Mao said with a smile: "Mao'er likes mother the most, the favorite, there is no one." Zhang Shuxiu laughed along with him regardless of airs.

Many years later, someone asked him why he never ate eggs, and his answer was: "That taste... I'm afraid to eat it."

Under the appearance of having a good meal, he knew that Zhou Mao was not feeling well. The egg must have been borrowed from Uncle He's next door.Zhou Mao bumped into his mother a few times showing disgusted expressions, which was not allowed in her upbringing, but for Zhou Mao, Zhang Shuxiu went there again and again.

After sending his mother back to the room for a nap, Zhou Mao sneaked into the study and started his great business of saving money.I scrapped one after another, and finally got back a little bit of the old feeling before the paper ran out, picked out the best one, and carefully rolled it up.

Counterfeiting is exhausting work. Zhou Mao went back to his room after cleaning up the scene and fell asleep. The third son tiptoed in to see if the young master was covered with a quilt, and found that his fingers and cuffs were covered with ink.It hurts to think that the young master really worked so hard, he started practicing calligraphy as soon as his injury healed.

In Zhou Mao's dream, he rolled over and put his foot under the quilt, his mouth opened, and he said plausibly: "I have too much money, I can't handle it..."

Little Sanzi: "..."

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