CHAPTER 67: CHAPTER 67: POVERTY? HOW COULD THAT BE?

Please look at the final ’Author’s Note’, regarding the update schedule, it’s very important!!!

Ma Xiaoling was both scared and irritated by Beisitian, yet didn’t dare to do anything to her. As soon as she saw her coming, she quickly went to greet her.

"Is Mr. Zhou in?" Beisitian asked.

"Yes, he’s in his study." Ma Xiaoling said, guiding her to the back.

Zhou Jiren had specifically instructed that if Beisitian came to find him, she should inform him immediately.

Zhou Jiren was a major leader from the city, who was she, a small waitress, to question him? She didn’t understand why a woman from the village gained his attention.

Of course, she wouldn’t think much of it either, considering Beisitian’s dry and thin appearance, who would be interested?

So, seeing Beisitian this time, there was not only fear but also curiosity.

"Miss Bei is here, please, come in and sit." Zhou Jiren put down the newspaper, looked up at her with a gentle smile.

When Beisitian entered, she smelled a faint fragrance of tea. She looked at the newspaper on the sandalwood table and the half cup of tea, smiling slightly, "Here to disturb Mr. Zhou again."

"No need for such formality, we met through a dispute." Zhou Jiren said, smiling.

Ma Xiaoling felt a bit embarrassed at his words, changed the teapot’s water, brewed tea, and went to the front hall.

Beisitian sat on the red lacquered sandalwood chair, her gaze on the newspaper, which contained a lot of information, some of which were current social news, others interesting stories.

"This is the newspaper from the day before yesterday, something to read when idle." Zhou Jiren folded the newspaper and put it aside.

Newspaper...

Beisitian silently remembered the word; this thing seemed to hold a lot of information, much more real than what one could get from people’s mouths.

"Did Miss Bei come to buy anti-inflammatory medicine this time?" Zhou Jiren’s eyes flashed, slightly lowering his eyelids.

Beisitian’s thoughts were still on the newspaper; hearing this, she replied, "No, I no longer need anti-inflammatory medicine. I’ve come hoping Mr. Zhou could help me."

Zhou Jiren raised his eyes, "Your brother is better?"

Beisitian nodded, "Yes, thank you for your concern, Mr. Zhou."

"Too polite, after all, the medicine is from my pharmacy, understanding a patient more is beneficial." Zhou Jiren picked up the tea, took a sip, and asked, "What can I help Miss Bei with?"

Beisitian took out a large piece of paper with calligraphy written on it from her satchel, "I’d like Mr. Zhou to guide me on whether there’s a market to sell these paintings."

Zhou Jiren was quite surprised, took the piece from her, discovering it was a poem.

Silver candle cold autumn light on the painted screen, light gauze small fan tapping wandering fireflies. At night the heavenly staircase is cool as water, lying watching the cowherd and weaving girl stars.

The poem was naturally a good one, but Zhou Jiren focused more on the calligraphy.

This piece, with flowing strokes and a sense of control, sometimes strong and sometimes gentle, had a unique charm of a young girl, yet it also conveyed an uncommon grandeur and atmosphere.

Zhou Jiren’s eyes flashed with a hint of amazement.

"Good calligraphy!"

Beisitian just smiled silently; the level of her calligraphy during practice at home wasn’t like this. It was merely to sell openly.

This level of semi-cursive calligraphy was truly her skill, taken out to sell without looking lackluster.

"If Miss Bei is willing, I’d like to buy this piece; name your price." Zhou Jiren said, looking at the calligraphy.

Beisitian shook her head, "It’s not a famous person’s handwriting, if Mr. Zhou likes it, I’ll give it to you. I only know how to write, but don’t know how to sell, so I wanted to ask Mr. Zhou for help."

"Just a simple task." Zhou Jiren pondered slightly, "I noticed Miss Bei goes to the embroidery workshop to sell work, does your family urgently need money?"

"Not really, it’s just that my family is impoverished, and I hope to improve our situation as much as possible." Beisitian said honestly, this was nothing to hide; working hard for money had no other reason than to better family conditions.

"Impoverished?" Zhou Jiren was taken aback, seeing Beisitian’s slightly curious gaze towards him, he smiled gently, "Merely curious why your family lets a girl work so hard."

Beisitian didn’t respond; at times, Zhou Jiren seemed strange, appearing casual yet probing into her family situation, but he was someone wealthy and influential, having no reason to notice ordinary rural affairs, thus her confusion without finding reasoning.

"I do know some calligraphers and painters; with Miss Bei’s skill, it wouldn’t be an issue." Zhou Jiren nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Zhou." Beisitian thought briefly and then added, "I wouldn’t dare waste Mr. Zhou’s connections, if the calligraphy sells, Mr. Zhou can take thirty to forty percent as a return."

Beisitian phrased it politely; connections are very important, no skills would work without them.

Some calligraphy shops aren’t as rumored, taking anything from anyone trying to sell.

Zhou Jiren glanced at Beisitian with slight astonishment, seemingly surprised by her understanding of social etiquette.

"That’s unnecessary; I don’t care for such money, let’s consider it a favor for Miss Bei, maybe I’ll need your help someday." Zhou Jiren responded.

Beisitian saw his earnestness, stopped further discussion, nodded, "Within my ability, I won’t refuse."

Zhou Jiren saw her confidence in herself and smiled; this girl was indeed interesting, different from those who felt overly confident and self-superior, and from those who felt their rural background useless; her self-confidence had substantial grounds.

Seeing no further matters, Beisitian prepared to leave.

After sending off Beisitian, a man in a suit walked out from the side wing; suits were just becoming popular in this era, mainly unseen in such small places.

"Your dressing is too noticeable; we’re here for a temporary inspection, no need to stir up trouble." Zhou Jiren looked at him coolly, in complete contrast to his demeanor while speaking to Beisitian.

"Yes." The man stood by the table, head lowered, "Mr. Zhou, does that woman need investigating?"

"No need, just keep an eye on the Chongren Pharmacy movements, don’t complicate things." Zhou Jiren picked up the newspaper and said lightly.

The Chongren Pharmacy was the only state-owned pharmacy.

"Understood." The man responded, and with Zhou Jiren’s wave, he left the room.

After his departure, Zhou Jiren set down the newspaper, gazing out the window, murmuring to himself, "Impoverished? How could it be."

Upon leaving Jishi Pharmacy, Beisitian headed to the market, planning to buy some chicks to raise and a grown chicken to stew; chicken soup was naturally nourishing, coupled with some herbs, it might counter the harm Luo Anping endured this time.