Chapter 7: Consistent Money

Alright

Hahaha, it's a small matter. I have three hundred and sixty big jokes, and small jokes are as numerous as cow hair. If Uncle Han doesn't have any fresh jokes, just come to the Wang family to find me!

Xiang Zijing suddenly realized his mistake and, right in the middle of the street, burned the agarwood bed, with its fragrance lingering for several days. Throughout the capital, everyone knew that the young master was affectionate while the singer was heartless, and they all secretly mocked her for being blind to the truth. In her anger and despair, the songstress hanged herself.

A segment of "Huang Bansian" not only made the mischievous children regard Wang Ning'an with newfound respect, but it also attracted the attention of a little old man. This man, who was not very tall, had a large mouth and eyes that darted around shrewdly, giving him an astute appearance that was not typical of a farmer

Oh my, how dare you underestimate me, this is slandering my professional level

Without saying anything else, according to Han the Frog, it would be easy to make several dozen guan

Wang Ning'an suddenly laughed heartily and said, "Uncle Han, I think it's quite inappropriate to charge a full amount for such a short joke. Let me give you another one."

Having just avenged himself and cleared his name, Wang Ning was in high spirits. "Let’s go, I’ll take you to catch some loaches, and we’ll make soup when we return"

This immediately provoked a burst of laughter, to the point where tears were streaming down their faces. The old man suddenly leaned closer to Wang Ning'an and said, "Young man, I bought this joke."

"Boasting!" Wang Luoxiang shook his head, "Brother only knows how to slack off, not how to tell stories"

Wang Ning'an was unaware that there are also rules in the storytelling community; one cannot simply use a story upon hearing it without the permission of the original storyteller, as this could lead to legal consequences. It is important to recognize that throughout history, the Song Dynasty has been unparalleled in its protection of copyright, and this is no laughing matter

Wang Ning'an, filled with righteous indignation, found a stone to sit on, placed two small objects opposite him, and said, let me show you whether I can speak...

Wang Ning'an danced with joy as he recounted how Old Huang had repeatedly stumbled upon a dead mouse like a blind cat, causing the two little ones to laugh heartily while clapping their hands on the stones. Unbeknownst to them, other children playing by the river also gathered around, listening intently. He narrated how Old Huang had muttered in the house, "Hurry, hurry, I'm coming, can you still be alive?" Outside, the chief eunuch Cui Ying was so frightened that he knelt down, confessing to Old Huang that he had stolen the emperor's luminous pearl

This story takes place during the Tang Dynasty. It is said that there was a farmer whose surname was Huang. He was not particularly good-looking, and people called him 'Huang the Toad.' This old Huang had a special skill; he could tell fortunes, although his predictions were not very accurate. Wang Ning'an spoke slowly, and this segment was precisely from the stand-up comedy of the great Liu Baorui, titled 'Huang Bansian,' but the setting was moved to the Tang Dynasty.

Wang Luoxiang shot a glance at her younger brother and said, "Brother, don't mind him; he was just extremely hungry and ate." Ever since the commotion caused by the Cui family, Wang Luoxiang had clearly grown closer to her brother, speaking up for him at every turn, while Wang Ningze had become the little scapegoat.

Little did he know that the other party had already found a new love. Xiang Zijing was furious and questioned the token of their affection. The songstress unexpectedly pulled out a drawer, which was filled with teeth

Wang Ning'an did not expect that selling stories could actually be profitable, and he suddenly felt as if he possessed a vast treasure trove within him, instantly filled with a sense of grandeur and ambition

Seeing Wang Ning'an with a look of doubt, Han Hama thought he felt the payment was insufficient, and quickly said: "Young man, your story is good, but it's too short; it can only serve as a brief introduction. A substantial story is needed to fetch a good price. At my age, I wouldn't take advantage of a child."

Two little gluttons, let me show you your brother's skills

... ...

... ...

In order to make a resounding impact, one must not be vague. Wang Ning'an recounted a story from "The Incense Bed" to Han Hama—Xiang Zijing was a scholar heading to the capital for the imperial examination. He became infatuated with a brothel and failed the examination, meeting a songstress with whom he fell deeply in love. When they parted, Xiang Zijing pulled out a tooth as a token, pledging eternal love and unwavering devotion.

Delicious, truly delicious

Wang Ning'an took his younger sister and brother to the riverbank, selected a shallow area, and used river mud to create a bend facing the flow of water. Before long, loaches would swim in.

Thank you, young man; the old man is immensely grateful

The children all widened their eyes in excitement, swearing that they had never heard such an interesting story before, each one captivated. Wang Ning'an did not notice that an old man had also come over, nodding his head and listening intently, occasionally showing a look of surprise.

Brother is truly impressive

Of course, Wang Ning'an knows that it is certainly not feasible to take a story and run out to sell it for money. It is just right to leverage Han Toad's mouth to build up his reputation, and once he gains some notoriety, he can then release quality goods.

Han the Frog's words reminded Wang Ning'an that perhaps selling stories could be a good way to make money

He has thought about making some inventions, like soap or perfume, but the problem is that he is a giant in language yet a dwarf in action, completely unaware of how to proceed. Moreover, everything requires capital, and his pockets are emptier than his face, full of intentions but lacking the means.

Wang Ning'an furrowed his brows slightly. As the saying goes, without money, one cannot move an inch. Aside from clearing his name, he had been constantly pondering how to make money.

Hmm! The old man chuckled and said, "To be honest, I am a storyteller who roams the streets. I happened to pass by and wanted to share a couple of tales to earn a meal. I didn't expect that the young man, though not very old, could tell stories so well. I feel ashamed in comparison and dare not show off my skills in front of such a master."

Lying on the grass, with the warm sun shining on me, it was incredibly comfortable. My younger sister, Wang Luoxiang, was staring at the road not far away, and suddenly said awkwardly: "When will mother be back? She promised to tell Xiang'er a story!"

This uncle, do you want to buy a story

Wang Ning'an shook a large string of copper coins, and both Wang Luoxiang and Wang Ningze were astonished, their eyes filled with little stars

A child around six or seven years old, who wouldn't want their mother? Seeing his sister sad, Wang Ning'an quickly shifted her attention and said: "Mother doesn't have a brother who tells stories."

Wang Ning'an's eyes lit up; he had thought that the old man would only take three to five dozen coins as a token gesture, but he did not expect to receive so many. Instead, he felt a bit embarrassed.

In his previous life, apart from writing, Wang Ning'an had very few hobbies, with eating being one of them. Although he might not compare to a professional chef, he still had his specialties. He picked up two or three dishes, and when he mentioned them to the two little ones, they all became interested and eagerly begged Wang Ning'an.

You listen up

The old man pondered for a while, then reached into his money pouch and after some time pulled out a string of coins, which amounted to exactly one guan.

"My surname is Han," the old man pointed to his mouth and said with a smile, "I was also given the nickname 'Toad', just like that Huang Bansian. I tell stories at the Sanjiang Teahouse in Cangzhou. If you come to Cangzhou, you are welcome to listen to my stories. I fear that I may not be as good as you, and may not meet your standards."

Back in the room, sitting opposite each other while eating, Wang Ningze pouted and said, "It's cold and not tasty"

Han the toad truly wished to buy a few more, but upon the arrival of dusk, and with no money left in his pocket, he could only take his leave for the time being

Wang Ninghong pawned his family's horse for four guan of money, which is not a small sum, as it amounts to several dozen guan

Haha, we have money now

If this were to return to Cangzhou, and it were to be publicly announced, it would surely enhance one's reputation significantly, and naturally, the income would also become more substantial

When Wang Ning'an reached the end ... ... Old Huang gritted his teeth and stamped his feet, calling out his childhood nickname, "Huang Toad! You will die in this box!" Upon hearing this, the Emperor remarked, "Hmm? He got it right again!"

What is your surname, sir

What a blind and shameless wretch! Truly, she has brought this upon herself! Han the Toad was unexpectedly filled with righteous indignation; he has told stories his entire life, yet Wang Ning'an's two anecdotes completely overshadowed him

Wang Ning'an spoke incessantly, continuing to explain to Han the Frog.

As a writer, Wang Ning'an has read numerous legendary novels from both ancient and modern times, ranging from classics to unofficial histories, from storytelling to martial arts, and further to fantasy and immortal tales, filling his mind with a wealth of knowledge. In his previous life, this was merely the basic knowledge of a writer, but in the Song Dynasty, it became an endless treasure trove for making money

Uncle Han, I would like to inquire if there is anyone collecting scripts, and what is the price for them

Wang Ning'an held onto Wang Ningze, cleaning him up thoroughly. As for Wang Luoxiang, there was no need to worry; she cleaned herself up nicely and followed her brother to the kitchen. Without the interference of the Cui family, they managed to get a large bowl of thin porridge, five pancakes—not the moldy kind from before, but a light yellow color, exuding the fragrance of grain—and a bowl of boiled vegetables. Wang Ning'an smirked; it wasn't great, but it was passable.

This ... ... '' little old man chuckled and said, `` Young man, this joke must be yours; if it comes from somewhere else, the old man won't pay! ''

The old man spoke elegantly after telling many stories, and Wang Ning'an was also very polite, smiling as he said: "Thank you for the compliment... How much can that last joke sell for?"

Oh? Is there more?

After returning home, Xiang Zijing earnestly requested his elderly father to accompany him with a valuable gift. He crafted a large bed from agarwood and returned to the capital to marry the songstress.

How about these

Wang Ningze grinned widely and nodded vigorously, "Fishing, fishing."

The two little ones eagerly extended their thumbs, and Wang Ning'an smiled with satisfaction, "What is this? When I have time, I will prepare a grand feast for you, North and South dishes, so you can eat to your heart's content"

Seeing her younger brother's aggrieved expression, Wang Ning couldn't help but chuckle to herself. She took several pancakes, lit the small stove to boil water, and as the flames rose, she placed the pancakes over the fire to roast for a while. The outside turned golden brown with a hint of char, while the inside was steaming hot, fluffy, and soft

"Of course it is mine, if you don't believe me, go ask someone else, who else knows?" Wang Ning'an was very confident.

It is difficult to say; there are expensive ones as well. The old man heard that someone was asking for a script for thirty or fifty guan.

After a day and night of exhaustion, Wang Ning'an fell into a deep sleep. By the time he woke up again, it was already afternoon. Considering that he had not eaten anything for more than a day, his stomach was growling louder than a frog.