33 A Penny Is Enough II (2/2)
On the grassland in City of Wei at Min Mountain, no matter how difficult and poor the situations were, he and Sangsang could overcome them. Yet now in this prosperous and rich land of Chang'an, their livelihood became a serious, major issue. A penny which could cause troubles to the heroes could also cause problems to both the young master and the handmaiden.
Suddenly, Ning Que's eyes brightened as he exclaimed, ”I know! We can sell century eggs! No, or should I say, Song Hua eggs (Another name for century eggs)!”
Sangsang frowned and repeated. ”Century eggs?”
He grinned and said, ”No doubt, the century eggs I make will be the most delicious in the whole of the Tang!”
Sangsang stared at him and said sternly, ”However, no one likes them in the whole City of Wei, neither do I. They're too bitter.”
Ning Que withdrew his smile and looked at the flustered pedestrians in the rain. He did his best to remain calm and commented. ”I was just kidding actually.”
Sangsang raised her head and looked at his chin. She hesitated for a long time before she gathered her courage and said, ”Young master, actually there's an easy way to earn money, but I'm not sure if you're willing to do it.”
Ning Que turned his head and faced her. For that moment, he instantly felt that his little handmaiden's dark-toned face had become much prettier and better looking than before, and he gently said, ”Now that we're in this situation, as long as we can earn money, I'm more than willing to do anything.”
Sangsang then replied, ”Young master, your writings are beautiful. We can sell your writings.”
Ning Que's expression suddenly froze. He stared at her and said in a serious tone, ”Sangsang, you become uglier.”
”Eh?” Sangsang was lost.
Ning Que was pissed as he lectured her. ”What do you mean by selling writings? That's calligraphy! Do you know what calligraphy is? Only scholars write and appreciate them, so how can we sell such precious things! I'd rather sell my body than sell my calligraphy!”
Sangsang was mad and shouted, ”Young master, you're not a scholar! You're just a woodman. Didn't you always say that you're better at writing words than killing people? If you're willing to kill people for money, I don't see why you can't write for money!”
Ning Que was speechless with her argument, so he only weakly rebutted. ”That isn't writing words. It's calligraphy.”
He then lowered his head and stared at his boots, which were already drenched by the rainwater. He then glanced at the words beside his feet which he had just written using the rain water with the tip of the black umbrella. He knew his handmaiden had once again defeated him.
The sentences of words that were written on the ground with the rainwater were: ”Don't worry about poverty, but worry about having a fierce handmaiden at home.”
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