An assassin? Call me the Master of Raising Prices!

On the West Street of the capital, a small calligraphy and painting shop is located at the end of the street.

West Street has always been a place where peddlers and hawkers stay and eat. Although there are many people coming and going, most of them are illiterate coolies. Not to mention buying calligraphy and paintings, even if you look at them, you can't understand them. Only a fool like Lao Lintou can do calligraphy and painting business in such a place.

According to Lao Lintou himself, he once took the imperial examination, but later his family fell into poverty and he couldn't even afford to study. Fortunately, the house on West Street was left by his ancestors. It was neither big nor small, just right for the front to be used as a storefront and the back to live in.

Lao Lintou didn't have any talent, but fortunately he had a good hand in calligraphy, so he wrote for others and sold his own paintings to make a living.

According to the neighbors, Lao Lintou was friendly and polite to others, and he had read books, so he was given the title of "Lin Xiucai". However, whether it was respectful or sarcastic, only Lao Lintou himself knew.

"Mr. Lin, have you had breakfast?" Old Man Chen, who was setting up a tea stall next to him, greeted with a smile.

"I've had breakfast, but I still want to ask Brother Chen for a cup of tea. Brother Chen, you can't ask me for money."

"Well, it's just a cup of turbid tea, how much can it be worth? Brother Lin, I wonder if you are busy..."

When Old Man Chen said the three words "Brother Lin", Old Lin knew what he wanted to do. The two had known each other for nearly 30 years, and each other knew what he was doing.

"Look, there are only a few people here. Brother Chen, are you going to write a letter to your son? I'll go back and grind ink."

"Don't worry, don't worry, finish your tea first, and warm up in this cold weather."

The two chatted casually, and after chatting for a while, they talked about Old Man Chen's son. After a few words, Old Man Chen's face was full of red, as if he had become a few years younger when he mentioned his son.

"Brother Chen, your son is promising. In a few years, he might become a general and come back to be filial to you!"

"Hehe." Facing the flattery of Old Lin, Old Chen was obviously used to it. He smiled and responded, his back straightened a lot. "That kid has no future. He only wants to wield swords. In my opinion, it's better to live a stable and safe life. On the battlefield..."

At this point, Old Chen didn't dare to continue. He was afraid.

"That kid is lucky and has a long life. I can see that he is destined to be a general!" Old Lin hurriedly patted his old friend's hand to comfort him. It's unbearable to see the old send off the young!

After drinking the tea in the cup, he changed the subject, "Brother, come with me. I will write it to you now. If it's too late, it won't be published."

"Okay"

The two walked into Old Lin's shop. Old Lin grinded the ink and moistened the pen skillfully. Old Chen carefully took out two pieces of paper from his pocket, put them on the table, and thought for a while before speaking slowly.

"Just write that everything is fine at home, I eat well and dress warmly, so he doesn't have to worry about me." After a pause, Old Man Chen continued, "It's bitter and cold at the border, you should wear more clothes, eat more, and don't send more money home. I'm old and can't spend much..."

Originally, he wanted to tell his son not to rush to the front, but after thinking about it, he was afraid of causing trouble for his son, so Old Man Chen didn't say it.

"That's it, don't waste Brother Lin's pen and ink."

Old Man Lin gently blew the ink on the paper dry, and said softly, "Okay, I'll read it to Brother Chen."

After reading it once, Old Man Chen was very satisfied, thanked him repeatedly, took out five coins from his inner pocket, and was about to put it on the table when he was stopped by Old Man Lin.

"Why do you want money for a few words? Just give me two bowls of tea."

After forcing the money back into Chen's pocket, Lin packed the letter and handed it to him, patting his shoulder, "Brother, go and mail it. I'll help you look after the tea stall. Go and come back quickly. My old bones can't stand the wind for too long."

"Okay, I'll go right away. Thank you, brother Lin." After saying that, the two of them went out. Lin closed the door of the calligraphy and painting shop, sat in the tea stall, poured himself a cup of tea, and looked at the sparse pedestrians boredly.

The tea was not a good tea, just a little more tea flavor in the plain water, but Lin's mouth was already familiar with this taste, and it tasted a bit like reminiscing about the past.

"Old Lin, are you helping the boss look after the tea stall again?"

Hearing the voice calling him, Old Lin smiled flatteringly, "Butler He, are you helping the young master copy books again? For this kind of thing, you can just tell someone to tell me and I'll go get it myself, why do you need to come."

Butler He liked Old Lin's tactfulness the most. He stroked his beard with a smile, handed a few books in his hand to Old Lin, and ordered, "Old Lin, you'd better hurry up. My young master needs it the day after tomorrow at noon. Don't delay his business."

"Don't worry, Butler He, I will definitely do it for you. Old Chen is going to mail a letter. Let's help him look after the stall. Butler He, will you have a cup of tea?"

"No, there are still things to do in the mansion." Butler He handed a tael of silver to Old Lin and waved his hand to refuse.

"Butler He, I dare not ask for more."

"Take it, the extra money is the reward from the young master."

"The young master is really a kind man! He will definitely be the top scholar in the future."

"That's right!" Butler He raised his head slightly as if he was proud, and reminded, "Don't forget, ask for it at noon the day after tomorrow."

"I'm leaving, I'll come to get it the day after tomorrow."

Old Lin's flattering smile slowly disappeared until Butler He walked away. Holding the silver in his hand, his eyebrows were full of joy.

A moment later, Old Chen came back. Old Lin gave him his seat and returned to the store with a few books.

After lighting the stove to warm his hands, he concentrated on copying books.

The days are short in winter. When Old Lin put down his pen, it was already dark and Old Chen had closed his stall early.

He put down his pen and stretched his body a little before he stood up with the help of a chair. He looked at the sky and seemed to feel something. Old Lin shook his head in melancholy. He went out with the silver.

"Mr. Lin, are you here to get some wine?" The daughter of the innkeeper asked with a smile. Since she saw the champion on the street a few years ago, she has been particularly respectful to scholars.

Handing her the wine gourd in his hand, Old Lin smiled and said, "I don't deserve it. Please give me half a catty of yellow wine."

"Wow! Mr. Lin has taken a big business!" The innkeeper skillfully poured the wine, and the servant prepared the food.

After taking the wine and food, Old Lin put down a few taels of silver, carried the wine and food out of the inn amid the diners' teasing or laughter, and walked back on the snow.

After lighting the stove, cleaning the pens, ink, paper and inkstone on the table, and setting out the steaming dishes, Old Lin placed three wine glasses, poured wine in them, and then slowly sat down, turning his head to look out the window.

"Since you are here, come in. We are all old, and our legs and feet can't stand standing in the snow for too long."

As the door was pushed open, the limping Master Qin walked in, "How are you recently?"

"Not too good, but I can still walk into the palace."