A Maid's Survival Story in a Noble Family Mansion? Rich Landlords Are More Appealing.

"Girl, you've bought it."

Before long, Yunzhu returned. She placed the items on the table and opened them. It was a complete set of writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. Although not exquisite, it contained everything one needed.

Chen Wanxing nodded and asked Yunzhu to grind some ink in the water. She then spread out a piece of paper, picked up a brush, hesitated for a moment, and began to write.

This action immediately attracted the attention of Chen Yanche and his three younger sisters. They had been curiously examining the things Yunzhu had bought, but when they saw Chen Wanxing pick up a pen to write, they all widened their eyes, held their breath, and subconsciously moved closer to the table.

In Xiahe Village, let alone being able to write, few people even know a few characters. Some of them had never even touched a pen. Now, seeing their older sister wielding a pen with her wrist suspended in mid-air, they could only watch in astonishment as neat and beautiful characters flowed onto the slightly yellowed paper.

Chen Yanche exclaimed softly, "Sister, you can write? It's so beautiful." He stared at the moving pen tip, his eyes filled with utter admiration and disbelief.

Qiuju was also captivated by the sight. She loved embroidery and was sensitive to lines and patterns. At this moment, she felt that the black characters arranged together had an indescribable feeling, more complicated and attractive than the patterns she embroidered. She pursed her lips and stared at them without blinking.

Chen Wanxing noticed their gazes, but continued writing. She simply said in a gentle voice, "In the Marquis's mansion, I work alongside the Madam, managing the accounts. Naturally, I need to be able to write and keep accounts."

The letter was short, mainly to let Amber know that he had returned home safely and was all well, so she didn't need to worry.

After writing, she gently blew on the ink to dry it completely before carefully folding the letter, putting it into an ordinary envelope, and sealing it with glue.

"Alright." Chen Wanxing handed the letter to Yunzhu. "Keep it safe. When you get back to Kaifeng, just give the letter to Amber."

"Yes, Miss, I've got it." Yunzhu carefully put the letter away from her body.

With everything finished, it was time to part ways. Yunzhu's eyes were a little red. Before leaving, she couldn't help but say, "Miss, when are you going back to Kaifeng? You're all alone here now, and neither I nor Granny Li are by your side. There's no one to take care of you. You must take good care of yourself."

"I know, don't worry. Just follow Master Zhao and Master Li's instructions on the road, talk less and pay more attention." Chen Wanxing gently patted Yunzhu's hand to comfort her. "After the New Year, when spring comes next year, I should be able to go back."

The two bodyguards and Coachman Chen were already waiting outside the inn. Yunzhu looked back several times before finally getting into the carriage.

After seeing Yunzhu off, Chen Wanxing stood at the entrance of the inn, considering where to start their tour.

She glanced at her younger siblings, who were looking around with wide eyes, drawn to all sorts of novel gadgets. She remembered the undisguised surprise and envy in their eyes when they read her letter earlier.

Che-ge'er is already considered an adult in this era and has long missed the age of going to school. As for Qiu-ju, Dong-mei, and Qing-hui, regardless of their age, they are women and have no right to step into the school gates in their entire lives.

Chen Wanxing pondered silently, and other ideas came to mind. Her abilities were limited, but within her capabilities and in her spare time, it wouldn't be difficult to teach them to recognize a few words.

It would be a good opportunity for her to buy a few more books, as she would be staying in Xiahe Village for a while. If she got bored, she could read some books to pass the time.

Having made up his mind, Chen Wanxing said, "Let's go somewhere first."

After asking the shopkeeper, she led the group eastward along the main street. Not far away, they saw a small shop with the words "Moxiangzhai" hanging at the entrance. It was a bookstore.

As you step into the store, a faint scent of ink wafts out. The lighting inside is not very bright, and several tall bookshelves stand against the wall, neatly stacked with various books.

An old shopkeeper sat behind the counter, reading a book by the light from the window. When he saw customers arrive, he only glanced up briefly, and when he saw that they were a few women, he lowered his head again, not being very enthusiastic.

"Go and take a look and pick some out yourselves. The covers all have names on them. They're on the shelves. Don't touch them if you're not going to buy them."

This environment made Chen Yanche and his three younger sisters feel even more uneasy. They had never been to such a place before. It was so quiet that they dared not breathe loudly, and the neatly arranged books exuded an awe-inspiring atmosphere.

Chen Wanxing already had a plan in mind, and went straight to the area in the store where the primers were displayed. There weren't many kinds here, mainly the "Three Character Classic", "Hundred Family Surnames", "Thousand Character Classic" and some basic calligraphy practice books.

After careful comparison, she finally chose a copy of the "Thousand Character Classic" with sturdy paper and clear, neat handwriting, and also selected a copy of "Daily Miscellaneous Characters" with simple strokes.

Holding the two books in her hands, she turned to the shelf displaying miscellaneous books and travelogues. In Kaifeng, larger bookstores always had new releases of these kinds of miscellaneous books, with a wide variety of stories and novels. But in this county town's bookstore, she glanced at the books and found mostly local chronicles and travelogues, which she wasn't very interested in.

Chen Wanxing was a little disappointed. She glanced around but didn't find anything she liked, so she prepared to leave with the books she had chosen for beginners. Just then, her eyes were drawn to a book placed in the corner.

This is rather special. It looks like a storybook, but at this time, no matter how erotic or bizarre the content of a storybook was, the cover always had to look like a proper book.

However, the cover of this book only depicts a woman, and although it is only her back view, you can still see her graceful figure. On the right side of the book, there is a line of text: Night Rain Picking Puppet Records.

Chen Wanxing's heart stirred slightly, and she became a little curious. She bent down and picked up the rather thin booklet.

"In the autumn of the seventh year of Yongping, there was incessant rain. I was staying at an ancient temple in Qingzhou when I heard a rustling sound in the east corridor at night, like people talking. I held a candle and looked at it and saw a wooden puppet about a foot long sitting against a pillar. It was dressed in proper clothes, with a thin layer of paint on its face and a dot of black ink in its pupils, gazing at people in a deep and mysterious way."

I was startled and retreated. I looked again, but it had vanished. Only a puddle of water remained on the ground, winding like a tear stain. The monk said, "This is an old relic of an actor. It often appears on rainy nights. Those who see it will be without harm." But since that night, every time I wake from a dream, I see him sitting upright by the window, as if he is saying something.

…………

This brief opening instantly caught Chen Wanxing's attention. The book was thin, and when she turned to the end, she found that the story was not over.

The story ends abruptly at the line "I am about to go to Yunzhou, I wonder if I have any old friends there," with "Volume One" marked in small print below. It turns out this is a storybook that is still being written and sold in volumes.

Chen Wanxing became interested and flipped back to the title page to see the author's signature, but only found a pseudonym, "Listening to the Rain," without a name or surname, which added to the mystery.