Counterattack of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid

On this day, Ruan Siyi also wrote two letters home and received ten copper coins in total.

It wasn't until dusk came, when all the vendors on the street closed their stalls, that he began to collect his things, pack them up, and go home with his books on his back.

When he was about to close the stall, a person who had been standing for a long time at the diagonally opposite corner hurriedly turned around and left, wiping away tears that he didn't know what it was like.

When Ruan Siyi arrived home, the courtyard had already been lit with lights.

Mrs. Qiao set the meal at the table, and Ruan Siyi went into the room to put the bookcase first.

"Sir, it's time to eat."

He didn't dare to look at her, and she didn't dare to look at her.

Halfway through eating, he took out a handful of copper coins from his sleeve and pushed them over.

"Sir, where did you get the money?"

"It wasn't stolen anyway."

Ruan Siyi's tone was a bit bad, and Mrs. Qiao didn't speak. He seemed to feel that his tone was wrong, and said in a low voice: "It was earned."

There was an indistinct murmur, Ruan Siyi seemed to hear the cry, but didn't seem to.

At night, two people slept on one bed.

He is outside, she is inside.

After moving here, there were only two rooms and only two beds, Ruan Siyi inevitably shared the same bed with Qiao Shi. Although there is some distance between the Chu River and the Han Realm, they are in the same bed after all.

Ruan Siyi had never slept in the same bed with Qiao Shi before. He thought she was not good-looking. She had been married for so many years, and she was called a husband and wife, but she had no identity as a husband and wife.

But now, everything that should go is gone, and she, who should leave most, is still by his side...

Ruan Siyi's mood is very complicated...

The days passed so unhurriedly.

As the old man said, they can make a living, but they only have food and clothing.

As Ruan Siyi set up a stall for a longer period of time, his ghost letter writing gradually began to have regular customers. For example, the aunt who gave him the first card was appointed to write for him, and even helped him bring several customers over. Ruan Siyi's daily business is good and he can earn a hundred and ten pennies, and if he is almost bad, he can earn more than thirty pennies.

After doing it for a while, Ruan Siyi also knew that he had painted two calligraphy and paintings and hung them on the stall for sale.

He used to like to be arty and elegant, and he knew how to do things like frame calligraphy and paintings. Make a good pair of people who can sell it for a few taels of silver when you meet someone who knows the goods. Of course, you may not be able to buy a pair for a month or two. After all, people who buy calligraphy and painting have some spare money, so naturally they will not buy them at such small stalls.

After a long time, Ruan Siyi gave Qiao Shi the money he earned every day, so he couldn't hide what she was doing. Sometimes, seeing that he didn't come back at noon, Mrs. Qiao would also send him a meal or something.

Suddenly one day, there was another small stall next to Ruan Siyi's stall.

The small stalls sell very simple things, that is, steamed buns and steamed buns.

Mother Chen can make dim sum, buns and steamed buns. The cost of doing this is not much, and I am not afraid of losing money. I cook it now and steam it. If there is any leftover, I will take it home and eat it at night. And in this way, Ruan Siyi also has ready-made food to eat at noon.

After a long time, everyone on the same street knew that the letter writing stand and the steamed stuffed bun stand were a family, and they were a young couple.

As for the scholar who always sits silently setting up a stall, the people around him have actually observed him for a long time.

Without him, I always feel that he doesn't seem like a person who does this, and he is very silent, always sitting there with his head down, and he can sit there for a day.

It was like this at first, but after a long time, that scholar would take out a book and sit there silently reading it. A thread-bound book, he read it over and over for a long time, and the edges were worn away.