Chapter 25: Newly Printed Booklets
Han Min didn’t dare respond or turn around.
Wen Yan called his name again from behind and was about to step forward.
Han Min, nervous to death, pressed down his straw hat and tried to move in another direction.
At that moment, someone pushed through the crowd toward him, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him away from the bookstore counter.
He sneaked a glance and exclaimed, “Mr. Ge?”
It was the fortune-teller he had worked with back in Tongzhou City.
Mr. Ge nodded and led him to the courtyard behind the bookstore.
Han Min looked around. With no one else there, he removed his hat.
“How did you come here?”
“You tell me—why did you suddenly come to Yong’an?”
“I have some business to take care of. And you?”
Mr. Ge clicked his tongue. “Do you know your booklets have become popular?”
Han Min glanced back. Inside the store, the clerk was still attending to customers, asking if they wanted a copy of the newly printed booklet from yesterday.
Han Min nodded. “I understand now.”
“The bookstore wants to pay you and renew the contract, but they couldn’t find you. I went to your home, then realized you were in Yong’an. Worried you might be dead, I came to check on you.”
Before Han Min could reply, the manager of Baishi Bookstore’s Yong’an branch arrived.
“Young Master Han is here? A pleasure, a pleasure.”
After greeting, the manager grasped his hand tightly, sighing repeatedly: “Genius, a genius—our bookstore has found a treasure.”
Han Min pulled his hand away: “You’re too polite.”
“Come in and talk.”
Inside, they discussed matters in detail. Han Min didn’t know much about contracts, so Mr. Ge still spoke on his behalf.
Last time, Han Min had only made one request; this time, he had three.
The first: he could not write anything like erotica as before.
“The second,” he said, “the contract was negotiated by Mr. Ge. Back in Tongzhou, I said that for future booklets, the first three days of sales should go solely to him.”
Mr. Ge waved his hand: “No need, no need. Just give me my share.”
Han Min thought a moment: “Then the first three days’ earnings, I’ll give to Mr. Ge.”
The manager smiled: “Of course, Young Master Han need not pay. We will cover it, we will cover it.”
He asked with a smile: “And the third condition?”
Han Min paused, thinking carefully: “Do you remember three years ago taking a privately commissioned printing order?”
“Private commissions happen all the time. Scholars write essays or poems and like to collect them privately…”
“It was for the Han Historian’s family.”
The manager’s expression darkened. He hesitated: “This…”
“Before the Han family was raided, the old Han Historian compiled some manuscripts and entrusted your bookstore to print five copies—”
Han Min’s grandfather had planned this carefully: one copy for himself, one for Emperor Dezong, and three for Funing Palace—one each for Eunuch Yang, the Imperial Physician Liang, and Officer Liu at the academy.
In these manuscripts, Grandfather Han recorded his personal experiences and observations over decades serving Emperor Dezong, written in the style of playbook scripts. The emperor found them amusing and occasionally read them.
Once completed, Grandfather Han handed them to Baishi Bookstore.
But before the books could be printed, Emperor Dezong passed away.
The newly enthroned emperor held a longstanding grudge against the Han family.
That book became the charge against the Han family during the raid—“privately recording national history, misrepresenting court affairs.”
During the raid, all the Han family’s books were piled in the courtyard and examined volume by volume by Grandfather Han’s colleagues from the historical bureau.
The large boxes of manuscripts and Grandfather Han’s personal notes were taken from the Han household and disappeared.
Later, Han Min went to Tongzhou. After thinking it over, he finally decided to come to Baishi Bookstore.
Since Grandfather Han had entrusted the bookstore to print the manuscripts, there must be some copies preserved.
Even if not all could be recovered, finding some would be good.
That’s why Han Min chose Baishi Bookstore to continue the booklets, rather than any other bookstore—it was all for this purpose.
The manager looked somewhat embarrassed. “This… the old Han Historian…”
Han Min said earnestly: “If there are any manuscripts left, or even some already printed, or if we can find the craftsmen who did the typesetting back then?”
The manager wiped his face: “I’ll try to find them. Maybe… some remain, but it’s been so long, it’s not certain.”
“Thank you.”
“Then let’s sign the contract.”
Mr. Ge negotiated three volumes of booklets for Han Min.
The clause about helping find the manuscripts was also clearly written.
The day was getting late, and Han Min needed to return.
Mr. Ge escorted him.
On the way, Han Min asked, “Where do you live?”
“They arranged everything as soon as they knew I’m a friend of Pine Smoke Ink Guest. Don’t worry.”
“Hmm. Won’t you leave then?”
“No. You pay me, and I’ll keep an eye on the bookstore. That manager seems unwilling to help you find the manuscripts.”
Han Min lowered his head: “Well, that’s normal. After all, our family is still considered traitors.”
Mr. Ge sighed: “You’ve been hiding this so carefully. You already planned this two years ago when you wrote continuation booklets for Baishi, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Otherwise, why would booklets at other bookstores sell better, and the writers there all leave, yet I chose Baishi Bookstore?”
He went to Baishi Bookstore only for his grandfather’s manuscripts.
Arriving at Xuanwu Street, the palace walls and city tower were ahead.
Han Min stopped: “This is as far as I go. It’s inconvenient for me now.”
Mr. Ge, understanding the Han family situation, looked at the palace gate and realized why he was hard to reach lately.
Han Min was in the palace and could not come out often.
Mr. Ge asked, “Aren’t you afraid of being discovered?”
Han Min sighed: “Baishi Bookstore won’t reveal my name. They still expect me to help them capture part of the market. Those people inside likely won’t care about my minor matters—they have bigger things to handle.”
Punishing the Duke of Gong and managing court affairs mattered more than him writing fiction novels.
Han Min looked up and smiled: “I’ll go back first.” He removed his hat. “If anyone saw this, help me take it away and throw it.”
“All right.”
Passing the palace gate, Han Min saw a carriage outside.
The Wen family carriage from the Marquess of Wenyuan’s residence.
Wen Yan had come.
A pang hit Han Min’s forehead. This did not feel good.
Back at Funing Palace, Little Jizi stood at the steps waiting.
“Master has returned?”
“Yes.” Han Min handed him the snacks bought on the way. “Share them.”
He climbed a few steps, glanced at the hall, and asked: “Has Young Master Wen arrived?”
“Yes, just now. He brought two books and is discussing matters with His Majesty in the study.”
“Good.”
Han Min was about to leave down the corridor when he suddenly heard Fu Xun call him:
“Han Min, come here.”
He froze mid-step.
Something was off.
Little Jizi had said Wen Yan brought two books—
Earlier at Baishi Bookstore, Wen Yan called him, but he hadn’t turned back. The clerk was asking everyone if they wanted a newly printed copy.
Could it be…
Han Min dared not think further. Fu Xun called again: “Han Min.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Han Min slowly approached while quietly awakening the system: “System, will Fu Xun ever have a wife?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“His wife should be very magnanimous, right? If I write these fiction novels… it might delay him from finding a wife…”
Before he finished, a loud clanging came from inside, as if an incense burner had been knocked over.
Han Min paused and inhaled sharply. “Has Fu Xun noticed too?”
Nervous, Han Min bit his hand for the second time today.
