Chapter Twenty: The Scholars’ Voices of Doubt-Com trezentos poemas famosos abalando nações, só quero ser um comerciante rico!(Apoiado na varanda, observo a lua brilhante.)

Yunyang County is considered a fairly affluent large county, where the annual income of an ordinary commoner barely reaches ten taels of silver. Even in Luoyang, the Divine Capital, the average monthly income for a commoner is only about two taels of silver. As such, pricing this perfume at five or ten taels puts it well beyond the reach of ordinary people. In Jiang Qingyan’s view, even if the perfume were truly wonderful, no one would be willing to spend so much money on it; she certainly wouldn't.

"And aren't those glass bottles the same as ceramic ones? Just for changing the bottle, it becomes five taels more expensive? Will anyone actually buy it?" Jiang Qingyan couldn't help but click her tongue.

"This perfume was never meant to be sold to the common folk. As for the wealthy, they don't care about an extra five taels," Jiang Han said, standing up. His sister didn't understand business, nor did she understand the wealthy. "Come, let’s go open the doors."

Outside the alley, a crowd had gathered, pointing at the shop doors and wearing expressions of indignation. These scholars had gathered today partly to denounce Jiang Han for his attention-seeking behavior in using the name of a Great Confucian, and partly out of curiosity, having learned that the three poems titled "Longing" were written by him. Men like Li Qiushui and Yuan Bin were among them.

After leaving the Cuiyun Pavilion, Li Qiushui had sent people to investigate Jiang Han. The result was startling. He never imagined he had lost to a good-for-nothing wastrel in Yunyang County! Learning that Jiang Han’s perfume shop was opening, he hurried over, eager to see what this man looked like. To his surprise, he bumped into Yuan Bin, another of the Four Great Talents. While the two had always been at odds, they both tacitly chose silence today, refraining from their usual hostility.

Yuan Bin examined the shop, which had been converted from a residence. A modest plaque hung above the lintel, covered by a red silk cloth. He could guess that the plaque read "Hidden Fragrance Dew." He was already aware of the advertisements Jiang Han had been running for the past two days and felt a flicker of surprise at his audacity; Jiang Han was the first person to dare use the names of two Great Confucians to sell perfume. The doorframe was likely adorned with a couplet, also hidden by red silk. Yuan Bin knew those were penned by Zhongli You himself and bore his personal seal. He anticipated that the opening would likely cause quite a stir.

Just then, a carriage entered the alley. A man and two women stepped out: Yin Rong, Gu Xirou, and Wang Siyi.

Gu Xirou glanced around and was taken aback. Why were there so many people? Listening patiently for a moment, she realized they were there to denounce Jiang Han. "I told you his perfume shop wouldn't last," she remarked. "Look at all these people here to protest against him."

Wang Siyi sighed. "Jiang Han has really gone too far this time. I fear his father will eventually have to step in to clean up the mess."

Watching this scene, Gu Xirou felt a sense of relief—relief that she had broken off the engagement in time. Otherwise, with Jiang Han being denounced by scholars today, she would have lost face as his fiancée. She had come only to see the outcome of the shop, and seeing such a bleak reception reassured her that her decision to break the engagement had been correct.

Yin Rong lightly shook his folding fan and laughed. "If he had honestly sold perfume paste, he might have made enough to get by. By using such low-handed tactics, he will only invite the condemnation of the literati... I dare say, he won't earn a single copper today!"

Under the gaze of the multitude, the courtyard gate finally creaked open. A young man stepped out. He was dressed in simple, coarse linen, with no ornaments. All eyes fell upon him, yet he wore an unhurried smile, his gaze devoid of any panic or stage fright. This stunned Li Qiushui, Yuan Bin, and the others; the young man seemed to possess an aura of unflappable composure.

True presence is not innate. Those in high positions naturally command an aura that compels others to yield or believe. How could Jiang Han, a man barely twenty, possess such a quality?

At that moment, Jiang Han cupped his hands in a salute and said in a clear voice, "I am Jiang Han. Today marks the opening of Hidden Fragrance Dew. I thank you all for coming to show your support!" He then walked to the plaque and pulled down the red silk, revealing three golden characters: Hidden Fragrance Dew.

"Hmph, support? Who is here to support you?"
"We are here to tear your shop down!"
"Jiang Han, you are a charlatan! Using the name of the Great Confucian Zhongli to sell perfume is a despicable act! Close your doors, apologize immediately, and burn those banners!"

The crowd erupted in a roar of protest.

Jiang Han remained smiling, unruffled. "It seems you all believe I am using the name of the Great Confucian Zhongli to seek attention, and have come to denounce me. But you have truly misunderstood. When I shared a drink with him, he was delighted after sampling my perfume, praising it endlessly, and even gifted me this couplet."

The scholars in the alley were incensed. Sharing a drink? Delighted and praising? Did Jiang Han still dare to invoke the Great Confucian's name? Did he think they were fools? Some were already preparing to shout their condemnation when Jiang Han walked to the couplet and pulled the red silk away with a sharp tug.

The scholars fell silent, their eyes fixing on the couplet:
*The lingering charm is like the moisture of deep-sunken water,*
*The elegance bears no trace of the murky sea mist.*

"Wait, what a fine couplet!"
"Look at that calligraphy—vigorous and powerful! This is definitely the work of a master!"
"The characters are excellent indeed, possessing the true spirit of the Great Confucian Zhongli. Where did this boy find a copy to mimic?"
"Mimic? Can't you see? It bears the Great Confucian's personal seal!"
"What? It really does?"

Some squinted and saw the seal, their faces turning pale with shock. Could this couplet truly have been written by Zhongli You?

Someone in the crowd shouted, "Don't be fooled! It’s likely a high-quality forgery bought from the black market! The Great Confucian Zhongli is a titan of our Great Yu's literary world, one of the Seven Sages—why would he write such a thing for a tiny shop? It’s impossible!"

Many of the scholars were swayed by this claim. Not everyone possessed the connoisseurship to distinguish the true brushwork of Zhongli You.

"Where did Jiang Han get this? It certainly looks like the work of a Great Confucian," Yin Rong chuckled mockingly. "It’s a pity he treats the scholars like fools, thinking everyone will believe it."

Gu Xirou added, "Most likely his father found it somewhere. If one didn't know him, one might truly be deceived."

Just then, another carriage entered the alley, drawing the attention of the crowd.