You couldn't blame Shu Wangyan for being dense. Even though he was a novelist, and even though he knew Zhou Siyin often burned incense... he couldn't have guessed Zhou Siyin's true nature. He just felt that the way Ji Shuangyu and Zhou Siyin spoke was strange.

What was going on? Could it be that these two hit it off right away?

Before leaving Small Drum Alley, Zhou Siyin gave Ji Shuangyu a sum for wasted ink and an advance on his writing fee. When a calligrapher creates a work, it's not something they can just dash off. They need to deliberate. Besides, Ji Shuangyu didn't even have his own fountain pen; he had to go buy one.

This kind of wasted ink fee had always been an extra expense, not included in the fifty dollars.

“Where can I buy a good fountain pen? Can you recommend a place?” Having accepted the money, Ji Shuangyu was working hard. “Boss, why don't you take me to buy one? I’m sure they’ll give a discount if they see your face, right?”

Zhou Siyin: "..."

Ji Shuangyu was right, of course. Zhou Siyin was in cultural publishing. When merchants in this line of business saw him, whether they knew him or not, they would certainly offer a discount as a gesture.

This was also for the sake of the calligraphy.

So, while the theater world was madly discussing Director Ji, debating whether he was cultured enough or qualified, he was already off to the commercial district to buy a fountain pen—

The next day.

Ji Shuangyu and Zhou Siyin sat side by side in the back. He was wearing his best new clothes and hat, though they were still the cheapest cotton jacket and felt hat.

Ji Shuangyu asked Zhou Siyin, "How did you come up with the idea of asking me to write the masthead?"

Thinking about it afterward, he found it rather strange. At the time, he only thought fifty dollars was a high price. Later, he flipped through some newspapers and checked the standard rates for calligraphers, which gave him a more concrete understanding of the market price.

For works by contemporary calligraphers that could be sold on consignment in shops, a plaque could sell for thirty to forty dollars, while a couplet would be priced by size—a six-foot one might go for over ten dollars. That was already quite good.

Fifty dollars to commission a masthead from a nobody was definitely an exaggeration. And he later found out that the new periodical Zhou Siyin was starting was called Calligraphy Education. As the name implied, its professional nature was clear.

'Could this Mr. Zhou be a masochist? After being teased by him several times, he still sent money his way? Or was he trying to buy his silence?'

'He doesn't seem like the type to compromise so easily...'

Zhou Siyin said in a calm tone, "I think your calligraphy is quite good and very innovative. I've never seen such fountain pen writing before, so I asked you to write it."

Ji Shuangyu finally came to his senses. 'Oh, right, I'm writing with a fountain pen! Hard-pen calligraphy probably hasn't developed much yet at this time, right?'

Ji Shuangyu was instantly relieved and looked at Zhou Siyin with an admiring gaze.

Zhou Siyin actually felt a bit unnatural, a rare feeling in his life, perhaps because Ji Shuangyu had been so... ordinary towards him before. He calmly looked at Ji Shuangyu, placed his hand on the back of the seat, slightly raised his chin, and adopted a composed posture.

Ji Shuangyu said with great emotion, "Mr. Zhou, your judgment is simply too good!"

Zhou Siyin: "..."

'Who is he actually complimenting??'

Ji Shuangyu laughed heartily. "Don't worry, you're definitely not losing out. Although you're paying me a hefty fifty-dollar fee, as my films' box office earnings get higher and I become famous, this fifty dollars will become more and more valuable!"

'While it's true I saw the value in it... this person really isn't modest at all.' Zhou Siyin glanced at him.

Fifty dollars was enough for a family's expenses for an entire month, and a relatively comfortable one at that. That's why high-level intellectuals, like professors, with monthly salaries of two to three hundred, or even three to four hundred, were considered very well-off at this time.

With this money, he could finally buy some furniture. His family was so poor they basically only had beds and a pot... Any decent furniture had been pawned off when his parents were sick.

The car stopped outside a foreign goods store, and when Ji Shuangyu got out, he felt a bit dazed.

The commercial district they arrived at was next to the legation quarter. There were many foreign goods from various countries, and most of the storefronts were Western in style. Some had clerks standing at the entrance handing out flyers, others had large characters advertising clearance sales, and some even had a group of clerks shouting slogans and dancing at the door...

Ji Shuangyu: ??? 'What a familiar feeling.'

The foreign goods store had large glass doors and glass display cases, which made ordinary citizens hesitant to even pull the door open, stopping them in their tracks outside.

Ji Shuangyu, however, calmly pulled the door open himself. He nodded at the approaching clerk and asked directly, "Do you have Leishen fountain pens? Show me the one with the broadest nib."

"Yes, sir. Please wait a moment," the clerk said politely. Although Ji Shuangyu himself was wearing a felt hat, Zhou Siyin next to him was dressed in a well-tailored suit, and his face had appeared in newspapers.

Moreover, this gentleman's attitude was incredibly relaxed. He leaned his elbow on the glass counter, idly looking over the goods in the store. Even so, his posture wasn't off-putting.

Seeing this, the clerk thought he might be a super-rich man with some eccentricities, deliberately dressing this way.

At this thought, the clerk's movements became even quicker.

Zhou Siyin was also secretly observing Ji Shuangyu. According to some newspaper reports, Ji Shuangyu's parents had come from a family that had fallen on hard times. His family's circumstances had been good until he was three, after which they moved to Small Drum Alley.

But judging from Ji Shuangyu's words, actions, and even his hands, which only had thin calluses from writing, he had his doubts.

'Perhaps Ji Shuangyu was raised by his parents to have a temperament that remains unfazed by favor or disgrace, but how could a person who had done manual labor on the streets have such delicate fingers and skin, and such white, neat teeth?'

'Or is what the newspapers wrote inaccurate? Does he have other experiences? ...I'll make another note.'

By now, the clerk had brought out the fountain pens. Not just the Leishen pen Ji Shuangyu had asked for, but many other brands as well. "Sir, you can take a look at our newly imported Levi fountain pen. This is this year's new model, 12K gold..."

Both the Levi and Leishen brands existed even in modern times. The former was imported, while the latter was a local brand from Hushang. Right now, the price difference between the two was quite large; an imported fountain pen could be traded for a house, though housing prices weren't that exaggerated yet.

Ji Shuangyu himself had always used Leishen for his calligraphy practice. His family was well-off and he never lacked for anything, but they weren't extravagant. The elders in his family were rather frugal and had always used Leishen, and its quality was indeed quite sturdy.

"No, I just like using Leishen," Ji Shuangyu interrupted him. "Besides, this Levi is too expensive right now, I can't afford it!"

The clerk was taken aback and said, feeling a little wronged, "Sir, the price of Levi pens just dropped because of tariffs." In fact, it wasn't because of tariffs, but due to competition from Huaxia's domestically produced fountain pens. But the price was already at an all-time low, so how could he still say it was expensive?

Ji Shuangyu comforted him, "It's fine, it'll get even lower."

The clerk: "..."

Ji Shuangyu unscrewed a Leishen pen and looked at it. "This is a medium nib, right? Do you have anything broader?"

M was just medium-broad. Seeing that he was quite familiar with fountain pens, the clerk suppressed his speechlessness. Failing to sell a Levi, selling a Leishen wasn't bad either. He quickly went to check and confirmed for Ji Shuangyu that it was the broadest one.

Ji Shuangyu bought a Leishen pen and then shamelessly had Zhou Siyin advance him more of his fee to buy some furniture, bumming a ride back to Small Drum Alley in Zhou Siyin's car—if he didn't take this chance to use Zhou Siyin's car, he would have had to spend money to hire someone to move the furniture. He couldn't bear that, so of course, he got it all done at once.

......

A few days later, when Zhou Siyin returned to Ji Shuangyu's home in Small Drum Alley, he saw that the place had been completely transformed.

A small pane of glass was set into the window. Nowadays, families of average means who wanted light or to show off would set a pane just like that in the middle, just big enough for someone to look out. The rest of the window was still covered with translucent paper, which didn't let in as much light as glass but provided warmth.

Ji Shuangyu had done just that. Sunlight now streamed into the room, dispelling the gloom. On the kang bed-stove was a small table with a few flowers, but on closer inspection, they weren't fresh flowers but dried flowers and grasses. They weren't in a proper vase either, but in an old pen holder, which surprisingly lent a certain quaint charm. Next to it was a coarse porcelain dish with some pastries, showing that he had no intention of compromising when it came to food.

The floor had been leveled and was covered with a dark, hand-knotted floral rug. Locals weren't used to laying carpets on the floor; they only used kang blankets or table runners. Floor carpets were only used for weddings and funerals. The habit of using floor carpets was a bit Western.

The handmade rug wasn't as even as a machine-woven one, but it was thick and plush. Ji Shuangyu's younger brother and sister were sitting and playing on it, looking relaxed in a way that only came from having full stomachs. A new ceramic stove was burning brightly nearby, warming the room as soon as one entered, which also indicated that the master of the house no longer lacked coal.

That day, Ji Shuangyu had bought a few pieces of high-legged furniture, like a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. Zhou Siyin had thought it might be too little and too simple in style, but seeing it now, it was clear he had a comprehensive plan for what he sourced. The pieces fit together very well.

With the new furniture and various daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt, Ji Shuangyu had spent nearly all of the advance, pinching every penny. The resulting effect, however, was worth many times more. Combined with the wallpaper he had put up earlier, the entire room was completely different from how it first appeared.

Zhou Siyin quickly understood. Thinking of Ji Shuangyu's ability to create complex effects with simple stage sets, it was no wonder he could arrange the room so comfortably and elegantly with so few items.

The lighting was much better. Even his third sister, Ji Feifei, wasn't as scary as before...

"Mr. Zhou, please have a seat." Ji Shuangyu had also made a few straw-woven cushions and placed them on the kang. He had already spread out a sheet of paper; he had been contemplating this for a while and had practiced writing it several times.

Now, in front of Zhou Siyin, Ji Shuangyu picked up his pen again and, concentrating, wrote the two large characters for "Calligraphy Education".

When he finished, Zhou Siyin immediately praised him from the heart: "Excellent! The character composition is naturally varied, with an authentic, ancient style." Although he had never seen Ji Shuangyu's brushwork, he could tell from these characters alone that Ji Shuangyu was skilled with a brush.

Ji Shuangyu chuckled and took out a seal he had carved. Ever since he was a novice, he had liked using seals; it made his writing seem more impressive. Now that he had to write, he had gone and carved one.

Zhou Siyin said that the first issue would feature an enlarged version of the masthead on a separate page, presented as a work of calligraphy.

Ji Shuangyu dipped the seal in ink paste, and two red characters were stamped onto the paper: Gourd Elder.

"Gourd Elder? What kind of name is that?" Zhou Siyin found it strange. 'Could it be because of Ji Shuangyu's unusually white hair that he calls himself an old man? Does he grow gourds in the yard? It's hard to tell in winter.'

"Yes, that's my new pen name." Ji Shuangyu didn't explain, only glanced at his four younger siblings. 'Sigh, I'm the one raising the gourd babies.'

However, Zhou Siyin's attention quickly shifted back to Ji Shuangyu's writing, and to the Leishen fountain pen placed beside it. "Why do I get the feeling that your pen is very good to use..."

He had never used a Leishen fountain pen, but watching Ji Shuangyu write just now, he couldn't help but feel that his pen was exceptionally good.