Chapter 21
Morning light crept through the latticed windows in pale gold, warming the edges of the room where books and inkstones rested in careful order.
A branch of late apricot flowers tilted at the perfect angle in the celadon vase chosen for the season.
The air was fragranced with the light scent her mother preferred—slightly woody with a faintly herbal undertone.
Yun-si sat with her hands folded, her spine so straight it ached, thoughts wandering to the flower thief she had just reread a few hours ago.
Across from her, Lady Shen sat behind a table laden with more scrolls and ledgers than usual.
Beside Yun-si, Yun-jia sat in a modicum of grace, trying to discreetly eat the lychee she had swiped off the bowl on her mother’s side-table.
“Yun-si, we’re reviewing your dowry today.” Lady Shen unrolled a particularly impressive-looking scroll. As always, her tone was perfectly modulated. “You will have thirty-two chests of dowry.”
Yun-jia looked up, lychee juice glistening on her fingers. “Thirty-two? Didn’t eldest sister get sixty-four chests?”
Lady Shen took a measured sip of tea, gathering the patience required for the explanation. “The number of chests must be appropriate to station, rank, and the betrothal gifts received. Too little or too much can both be perceived as an affront.”
“Yun-yao married the Great General by imperial decree. Her dowry procession was watched by the entire capital.” Lady Shen suppressed a sigh.
“And she had the whole General’s Residence to house her dowry.
Where would your third sister find room for sixty-four chests of dowry in Master Gu’s residence? ”
“Instead, we will be giving you more banknotes and shops.” She looked at Yun-si.
“Shops.” Yun-jia chirped in excitedly. “Do we get to choose the shops?”
“No.” Lady Shen’s voice was flat. “These are already selected for practicality.”
“Boring,” Yun-jia muttered.
Lady Shen ignored her. “Six shops in the capital.”
Six shops. Yun-si heard the words like distant thunder. That sounds like a lot of work.
“One cloth shop on Brocade Street,” Lady Shen continued, tapping the scroll. “Profitable. Steady income. One cosmetics shop by Lotus Bridge. And two provisions stores near the East Market. Unglamorous, but essential.”
“Additionally, you’ll receive two farms with tenants. They generate annual income and already have trusted overseers, requiring minimal oversight.”
Yun-si nodded dutifully. Her mind was already drifting again—now to the bookshop, to Old Wang’s weary face two days ago, to the way he’d said end of the month like a death sentence.
Lady Shen was still talking. “A woman’s dowry is her foundation.
Your dowry must sustain you and let you hold your head high in your husband’s family.
It is yours by law and cannot be taken away.
It must provide for you and your children.
” Her gaze swept over both daughters—Yun-si’s glazed expression, Yun-jia’s sticky fingers.
“Yun-yao was trained from age ten to manage an entire clan’s finances with me.
Lands, shops and grain stores across provinces.
You two—” A pause, weighted with resignation.
“—you only have to manage one household, six shops and two farms. But you must do it well.”
Yun-jia leaned forward, eyes bright. “But what if I want different shops? Like a jewelry shop? Or a toy trinkets shop? Or one of those little stalls selling sweet plum drinks by the river?”
Lady Shen’s patience frayed visibly. “Yun-jia, this is not a game. A dowry isn’t trinkets and pretty thing. These shops must be profitable, or—”
Lady Shen unrolled the scroll further and took a deep breath.
Yun-si’s attention was half-caught now, snagged on the word shops like silk on a thorn.
She thought of Autumn Leaf Literary Treasures, the little bookshop that held her dreams in ink-scented shelves, all those afternoons spent lingering among the huaben volumes.
Three weeks. Old Wang had three weeks before he closed forever.
“I will also be giving you two shops from my own dowry. A paper store and a stationery shop on Scholar’s Lane.”
Yun-si sat up straight.
“Scholar’s Lane?”
Lady Shen looked at her, mildly surprised by the sudden attention. “Yes. Your grandmother’s property, passed to me, now to you as part of the marriage settlement. As a married lady you will manage these directly—”
“Can I buy a bookshop too? Can I have a bookshop instead of the cloth or grain shop?”
“Why a bookshop?”
Yun-si tried to keep her voice steady. “Autumn Leaf Literary Treasures is well-respected. The owner’s health is failing, and he is closing...” She continued anxiously, “the location is prime, Mother. If we don’t purchase it, someone else will.”
“Yun-si,” Lady Shen said finally, “listen carefully. Your dowry represents the financial support of your maiden family. A cloth shop and provisions store are lucrative. Predictable. A bookshop...” She shook her head. “Books don’t sell like fabric or rice. Scholar’s Lane is expensive compared—”
“I’ll make it succeed.”
The words came out firmer than Yun-si had intended. Lady Shen’s eyebrows rose.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.” Yun-si’s fingers tightened in the folds of her skirt as she nodded, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
Yun-jia bounced on her chair. “If Yun-si gets a bookshop, I want a jewelry shop! And a toy shop! And—”
“You’ll get a husband first,” Lady Shen said dryly.
YUN-SI STOOD IN FRONT of the shop where she had spent so much time in and rehearsed the business proposal in her mind again. Then she pushed open the door to go inside.
Old Wang looked up from behind the counter. His expression flickered with surprise, then softened.
“Mistress Recluse. Back so soon?”
“I have a business proposal for you.”
Old Wang set down the book he’d been holding. “A proposal.”
“Yes.” Yun-si folded her hands, willing them not to tremble. She’d rehearsed this on the walk over, but now that she was here, the words felt heavier than she’d expected. “I’d like to purchase Autumn Leaf. As part of my dowry.”
Old Wang snorted. “You’re the Chancellor’s daughter. Why waste your dowry on a failing bookshop?”
“You knew?” Yun-si asked in surprise.
Old Wang just raised one eyebrow at her.
Yun-si sighed inwardly. Of course he knew.
“Because it’s my dream,” she continued quietly. “To have a bookshop. To publish books. To help more people sell their stories or find their stories.”
Old Wang studied her for a long moment. Then he sighed, long and slow, and gestured to the stool beside the counter. “Sit. Tell me your proposal.”
Yun-si settled onto the worn wooden stool, her pale pink skirts arranging themselves quietly around her. Hands folded neatly in her lap, she met Old Wang’s gaze without flinching.
“I will buy this shop from you,” she began, her voice steady despite the way her pulse hummed beneath her sleeves.
“And you will stay on as the manager. You know the business best—the authors, the regular customers, the printers and the suppliers.” She exhaled, just slightly.
“But I am a reader, and an author. I know what they want.”
Old Wang’s fingers stilled where they’d been absently tracing the grain of the counter. He didn’t interrupt, so she continued.
“I will finance the renovations. The expansions.” Her mind envisioned a bigger, more welcoming space, dedicated areas for different genres of huabens, reading spaces bathed in sunlight.
“The stationery shop next door is part of my dowry. I’ll combine the two spaces.
We will sell both books and stationery.” She paused for a moment, thinking back to the Sword Lady Mei’s outfits that were selling out in the clothing stores last year.
“We can even sell special stationery inspired by the books.”
She plowed on determinedly. “Autumn Leaf won’t just sell books.
We’ll publish more books than now. We’ll find independent authors—those Golden House ignores because their names aren’t famous enough, or their stories are too strange.
We’ll give them a chance. And we’ll make readers want to come here, not just because we’re cheaper, but because we’re unique. ”
For a moment, the only sound was the distant chatter of the street outside, Yun-si clenched her sweaty palms nervously, if Old Wang doesn’t—
Old Wang’s expression didn’t change. “And why would I agree to this?”
“Because you love this shop,” Yun-si said softly. “And because I’ll make sure it survives.”
Old Wang was silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head, slow and deliberate. “Third Maiden, do you know why I’m closing?”
“Your health,” Yun-si said. “And Golden House Books.”
“Clever girl.” Old Wang’s smile was bitter. “Golden House has bulk. They have numerous stores across provinces. They use that advantage to undercut prices. They hoard stock. They entice authors with grand contracts. Autumn Leaf can’t compete on volume alone.”
Yun-si listened, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She’d seen Golden House’s banners, their aggressive promotions, their bestseller displays that took up half the street.
“Even if you renovate,” Old Wang continued, “even if you hire helpers, you’ll need something they don’t have. You need a draw. A star author. Someone readers will cross the city to find.”
He leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Do you have that, Third Maiden?”
Yun-si didn’t answer immediately. Her mind was already spinning, racing through possibilities.
“Not yet,” she said finally. “But I will.”
Old Wang studied her for another long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“Then we have a deal.” He extended his hand across the counter. “You finance. I manage. We survive.”
Yun-si clasped his hand. His grip was firm, worn from years of handling books. “We expand.” She corrected.
Old Wang’s smile was faint but genuine. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”
Yun-si stood, inclined her head, and turned toward the door. The sounds of the streets returned as she stepped back out onto Scholar’s Lane.
The late afternoon sun had softened to a warm amber glow. Its light filtered through the fresh green canopy of the scholar trees lining the lane, dappling the stone paved street with shifting patches of gold. Yun-si walked slowly, her mind churning.
Old Wang is right. I need a star author. Someone readers love. Someone who can rival Golden House’s bestsellers.
She thought of the books she’d read—the ones that made her heart race, the ones she stayed up late to finish. Recluse in Clouds? No. She wasn’t famous enough. Not yet.
But who was?
Moonlit Brush.
Her breath caught.
I need Moonlit Brush.