"Four dollars, this is too expensive." Chu Qing asked, "Can I get a discount?"
The shopkeeper didn't know why: "Discount... I wonder what you mean, sir?"
"It just can't be cheaper."
The shopkeeper didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he didn't immediately chase him away.
This rare residence is not only for sale, but also for collection. Li Chun Fu was sent by an old man with a white face and no beard. Every few months, he would sell some poems at low prices, all signed by Huang Si.
Regardless of whether the poem is good or bad, the shopkeeper only knows that basically any poem called Huang Si cannot be sold. The main reason is that it is not well-known and no one has heard of it.
Seeing that someone had finally come to help with the "last order", how could the shopkeeper let him go so easily?
"If the young master likes this pear spring poem, how about selling it for three times a fortune?"
Chu Qing waved his hand: "One hundred coins, do you want to sell it or not?"
The shopkeeper looked confused: "Could the young master be joking?"
"How much can a piece of broken poetry be worth? Don't fool me. I always buy it. I bring it home by the carload. You can just give me the wholesale price. I will come over next time to make more batches and introduce some to you.
customer."
The shopkeeper forced a smile and said: "One hundred coins is absolutely unacceptable. Master, don't say it's a joke. Please give me a higher price."
In fact, Chu Qing was not sure how much the poems and songs were worth, so he couldn't help but look back at Fu San: "How much do you think this poem is worth?"
"Young Master, you are really putting yourself in such a difficult position. How can I understand these vulgar things?" Fu San smiled and said, "But these poems can indeed be sold for money. It's just a few bucks, so it's not expensive at all."
.”
The shopkeeper's eyes shone.
Sure enough, I met a rich man who was taken advantage of, and even the servants spoke so lavishly.
Chu Qing, who had no money on him at all, asked: "How much money do you have in your pocket?"
Fusan: "Thirteen articles."
The light in the shopkeeper's eyes dimmed instantly.
He understood clearly that the young master in front of him was extraordinary.
People don’t know the goods, but they are not short of money either.
The owner in front of me is really ignorant, and he will still be short of money after all.
Chu Qing looked at Fu San with helplessness on his face: "You have more than ten dollars in your pocket, and you are talking to me about a drug worth hundreds of millions?"
"The younger one thinks it's not expensive." Fu San said with a matter-of-fact expression, "The younger one doesn't have much money anyway."
Chu Qing opened his mouth and suddenly found that he was invulnerable.
These words make perfect sense.
In his last life, he also felt that Ferrari was not expensive, and he couldn't afford it anyway.
Just when Chu Qing was thinking about choosing a cheaper calligraphy and painting, the screen was opened and a figure came out.
"This little brother, is he really attracted to this pear spring poem?"
"Blank!" Chu Qing cursed secretly.
The person who just played the piano turned out to be an old man, and he was also a burly man.
"You're such a rough old man, why can't you play the piano?" Chu Qing rolled his eyes: "You still play like a harried woman. Why, your gay friend ran away with someone else."
As soon as the muscular man appeared, all Chu Qing's beautiful illusions were instantly shattered.
He thought that just like in movies and TV shows, the ones who played the piano were all young girls and beautiful people, but he didn't expect it to be such a thing, with a body like a black bear who was about to steal a cassock at any time.
The tall man with Chinese character face had straight features, thick eyebrows and big eyes, and his face was extremely majestic. He didn't understand what Chu Qing said, and he slightly raised his hands: "How do you call this young master? My surname is Huang, and I have a four-character name, Li Chun Fu."
This is exactly what I did."
Fu San whispered: "Master, this guy plays the piano and writes poetry. He doesn't look like a serious person."
Chu Qing nodded, deeply convinced.
Who is a good gentleman who spends all his time doing these useless things, just writing poems? How can you be a serious person if you still play the piano?
The shopkeeper didn't expect that the big man was Huang Si, the "wholesale final order", and he couldn't laugh or cry.
When Huang Si came in just now, he said he was here to buy a piano, but the shopkeeper didn't take it seriously. However, he said that this big Han Qin was played seriously and well.
"It turns out that this young master is Huang Si. I have admired him for a long time."
The shopkeeper clasped his fists, quite enthusiastically.
There are many poems and songs signed by "Huang Si" hanging in Qizhenju. They are all late orders and cannot be sold. The reason why they are hung is because the old man who sent the poems was very generous.
Others send paintings and calligraphy for consignment, and Qizhenju takes a commission.
Huang Si's calligraphy and paintings can be sold, and it doesn't matter how much they sell for. Sometimes the shopkeeper is unwilling to accept the calligraphy and paintings, and the old man who gives the calligraphy and paintings has to pay back.
In fact, there are not many such people. Many young men or scholars are willing to do this just to gain a reputation. It is not surprising.
"You are the real owner." Chu Qing said cheerfully: "Then let's not let the middlemen make the difference. Sell it to me for thirteen coins."
Huang Si seemed to be smiling but not smiling: "Thirteen Wen, this young master is humiliating Huang."
"Humiliation?" Chu Qing rolled his eyes: "Forget it if I don't sell it."
Looking at the shopkeeper, Chu Qing's face was full of pride: "What item in your store costs thirteen cents, I want it, no bargaining."
The shopkeeper looked at Chu Qing from top to bottom.
This attire clearly shows that he is from a good family, but this opening seems too stingy.
In fact, it was really not Chu Qing's fault. He really didn't bring any money. Logically speaking, he should ask the steward for some money when he went out, but he just forgot.
The shopkeeper laughed along with him: "Young Master, don't be ridiculous. Curious treasures such as calligraphy and painting, which are not very famous, require at least a lot of money. There are no objects worth thirteen cents."
Chu Qing also realized that he was about to reveal his true nature as a loser, but Fu San on the side was more serious: "I don't believe it because you are so boastful. You don't have anything worth thirteen cents here, inside and outside?"
Huang Si on the side sneered, looked around, and happened to see a clerk mounting calligraphy and paintings with a stone hammer. He pointed with a mocking look on his face: "Thirteen coins can buy the items in the hands of that clerk."
Fu San didn't hear the implication and thought it was calligraphy and painting. He said cheerfully: "That's it. Thirteen coins can be bought. My young master bought it."
"Thirteen Wen..." Chu Qing said with a black line, "He said you can buy a hammer."
Fu San scratched the back of his head: "What are you buying a hammer for? Can the Tao family take it?"
Chu Qing: "..."
Huang Si glanced at Chu Qing disdainfully, then turned to look at other calligraphy and paintings.
Chu Qing was a bit embarrassed. He couldn't come to pick up someone's daughter without bringing a gift.
After taking a look at Li Chun Fu, Chu Qing said angrily: "What kind of crap is written and sold for such a high price."
Huang Si turned around suddenly, narrowed his eyes, and there was a hint of anger between his brows.
The shopkeeper was not happy either: "Young master, all the people who can consign poems here are famous people. If you don't want it, just turn around and leave. Why are you so rude?"
"Consignment?" Chu Qing's eyes lit up: "Then I'll write dozens of poems for consignment. No, no, no, don't sell them on consignment. I don't have the time. How about we exchange them? I'll read five poems for you.
,How about it?"
The shopkeeper pointed at the door: "Young master, please go slowly. I won't see you off."
"Damn, this Li Chun Fu can be sold, why can't this young master's poems be sold."
The shopkeeper was unmoved and just pointed at the door. Unexpectedly, Huang Si suddenly spoke with a gloomy tone.
"Okay, don't say five, just one. If you can't compose even one, Huang, I have to talk to you carefully!"
"OK." Chu Qing cleared his throat and spoke slowly.
"The dignity of an adult is to pack away the hardships and continue living happily."
Fu San clapped his hands together, extremely excited: "Okay, good poem, good poem, good poem."
The shopkeeper was dumbfounded, looking at Chu Qing as if he were looking at a fool.
Huang Si was stunned for a moment, with a look of disdain on his face: "Is this also called poetry?"
"I know you have no taste." Chu Qing rolled his eyes: "The green mountains stretch across Beiguo, and the white water surrounds the east city. This place is separate, and the lonely Peng marches thousands of miles away!"
There is silence among the rare treasures.
After a while, Fu San looked at Chu Qing uncertainly: "Young master, is this a poem? I still think the one just now is better."