Chapter 12

As she remained constantly busy, time flew by. Every day, she received and saw off an endless stream of guests at Alum Tower. Ten days passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

At last, the once-every-ten-days day of rest arrived.

Yang Man-niang rose early. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she ate more than half a bowl of chilled cabbage soaked rice for breakfast, then put on her sheepskin coat and went to the Qian Family Four Treasures Shop on the front street.

As the ancients said, if a craftsman wishes to do good work, he must first sharpen his tools.

Now that she had surveyed the market and learned what kinds of novels were being sold, Yang Man-niang naturally had no intention of wasting time. Taking advantage of her day off, she immediately began writing.

Ordinary writing supplies were relatively inexpensive. At present, she could still afford them if she gritted her teeth. After haggling with the shopkeeper, she finally spent one hundred and nine copper coins on the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone she needed.

That left only one hundred and sixty-five copper coins in the household savings.

In another ten days, she would have to pay the landlord next month’s rent: one hundred and fifty copper coins.

That meant the family would have only fifteen copper coins left to spend.

In two more days, it would be the first of the month, payday, when another two hundred and fifty copper coins would come in.

Their total disposable income would therefore be two hundred and sixty-five copper coins.

They were stretched impossibly thin.

In other words, if she could not make money from her serialized novel within a month, the family would likely face starvation the following month.

There was no doubt about it.

This was a life-or-death battle.

Either she succeeded, or they perished.

There was no other road.

But what should she write to ensure a triumphant debut?

Should she write a tale like Moonlit Hermit’s, with a tragic, long-suffering heroine in the first half and a perfect happy ending in the second?

Or a male wish-fulfillment romance like Old Student of Mount Yueyang’s, in which the hero enjoyed the blessings of many women?

The works of those two authors had become wildly popular not merely because of their excellent prose and ornate language. More importantly, they had seized upon the pleasures readers of this era craved. After years of cultivation, both had acquired a loyal readership.

Yang Man-niang could naturally write something similar.

But they were seasoned authors, with their masterpieces already standing before her. If she merely imitated them, it would probably be difficult for her to make a name for herself at the outset. Novels of that sort were not especially striking in their early chapters; they required a great deal of time and patience to unfold through calm, straightforward narration.

That approach might work for a complete novel.

But for someone like Yang Man-niang, who intended to publish by installments and make a name for herself from the very beginning, it was clearly not explosive enough.

It would not attract enough attention.

And what she lacked most now was time.

Yang Man-niang thought for an entire hour.

Only then did she dip her brush into the ink and slowly write the title of her serial novel:

The Domineering Prince Has Fallen for Me!

Yes.

After much deliberation, she had decided to write an ancient version of the domineering-president romance.

Although readers’ tastes in literary works had changed with the times, the domineering male lead had never truly faded from view. He remained an enduring presence, appearing in different forms throughout online fiction and television dramas. Looking across all the successful male characters in novels and on television, almost every one of them possessed at least a few domineering qualities.

Cold, handsome, wealthy, devoted, blessed with extraordinary leadership and overwhelming power—

He was practically the pinnacle of masculine appeal.

And such a domineering man, of all people, would fall in love with an ordinary, unremarkable heroine whose heart was pure and kind.

To veteran readers, the formula had long since become commonplace, yet it still occupied half the world of online fiction. One could open almost any reading platform and find titles such as The Domineering President’s Stubborn Little Wife, The Cold President’s Pure-Hearted Secretary, or The Iceberg President’s Pregnant Runaway Wife.

Yang Man-niang was certain that in this era, when the storytelling world was dominated by talented scholars, beautiful women, and failed candidates, such a forceful and overbearing male lead would be utterly unprecedented.

It would attract attention without fail!

Of course, some details would have to be altered.

After all, the Song Dynasty had no such thing as a “president.” Merchants held little social standing, and many survived by attaching themselves to powerful figures. They might be wealthy, but their status remained low.

If she made a merchant the protagonist, then no matter how domineering, handsome, and wealthy he was, readers of this era would find the story lacking without the support of political power. They would have no way to place themselves in it.

So she would replace the president with a prince.

This prince, naturally, would be noble in status, young, tall, handsome, and striking in appearance, with an extraordinary bearing. He would be wealthy and devoted, his face carved as sharply as though cut by a blade. He would be aloof, forbidding to strangers, and utterly expressionless.

His coldness, however, did nothing to diminish his charm. Countless admirers would still throw themselves at him one after another.

The prince would be forceful and domineering, accustomed to controlling everything. He would possess immense power and wealth, and whether in court or in matters of love, he would have a fierce desire for control and possession.

Naturally, his abilities in official affairs would be beyond reproach as well. Every task entrusted to him by his imperial elder brother would be completed brilliantly. At court, he would stand head and shoulders above everyone else, making all the others seem utterly insignificant.

And such an outstanding prince would have remained single for many years. Cold and ascetic, he would show no favor to any woman, his heart unmoved while countless admirers could only stare at him helplessly, drooling with longing.

That was the character profile of the domineering prince.

To avoid complications, Yang Man-niang invented a title that did not exist in the current dynasty and gave it to her prince:

Prince Yu.

As for the heroine, she would naturally retain the ordinary, unremarkable little-white-flower archetype. She was delicately pretty but only of average beauty. Kind, innocent, and plain, she would not even bear to step on an ant. Whenever she encountered an injured cat or dog on the road, she would tend to it with the utmost care.

Yet in the prince’s heart, she would be utterly unique. She would tug at his emotions so powerfully that he could not help but keep his gaze fixed upon her. After meeting the heroine, all his self-restraint, asceticism, and icy reserve would vanish. He would become gentle and considerate, creating a dramatic contrast.

Having once been the sort of person who stayed up all night obsessing over domineering-president romances, Yang Man-niang wrote without pausing except to dip her brush in ink. Her words flowed as if inspired by the gods.

There was no proper table in the house, so she carried out the stuffy chest cabinet from the bedroom and used it as a makeshift desk.

Yang Man-niang sat on a half-worn embroidery stool and wrote.

It was cold outside, and there was no way to prop open the windows as they did in summer, so the room was rather dim. Fortunately, it was daytime, and brush-written characters were larger than ordinary script. It was not too hard on her eyes.

Yang Man-niang’s handwriting was certainly no worse than a dog’s scratches—but it was not much better, either. It possessed neither grace nor character; it was merely legible. Although her father had taught all of them to read and write, ink, brushes, and paper cost money, so she had rarely had the chance to practice.

Fortunately, she had never demanded that her handwriting be beautiful. As long as it was usable, that was enough.

When Third Sister Yang Pan-niang finished her chores, she came to help dry the pages and stack the completed sheets in order.

Yang Pan-niang could read, but she could not write. Though she was not as literate as her eldest sister and second brother, she could still read storybooks and novels.

But when she read Yang Man-niang’s novel, her large, skull-like eyes widened even further.

The expression on her face was difficult to describe—both bashful and shocked.

Her eldest sister’s novel was truly... uninhibited!

Yang Man-niang had written the most classic opening to a domineering-man romance.

The heroine, Bai Wanwan, was the daughter of an ordinary family in Xiuping Ward. Her mother had died in childbirth, so Bai Wanwan had lived alone with her father from the moment she was born. Later, her father remarried, and she began living with him and her stepmother. Her stepmother also gave birth to a daughter, Bai Zhenzhen.

Sure enough, having a stepmother meant having a stepfather as well.

Bai Wanwan’s treatment at home was like that of Cinderella. She did the most work and ate the poorest food, while her stepsister wore clean, beautiful clothing and was always making complaints about her in front of their parents, ensuring that the poor heroine suffered one injustice after another.

Yet despite this, the heroine resembled her mother and was somewhat prettier than her stepsister. Her stepmother and stepsister therefore disliked her even more. Taking advantage of the heroine’s father being away from home, they drugged her with an aphrodisiac, intending to pair her off with a street ruffian named Hou Wu.

Yang Man-niang wrote freely throughout the entire afternoon. At one point, she grew too cold from sitting still and performed one hundred jumping jacks in the room to warm herself up.

In the end, Third Sister Pan-niang wrapped the quilt from the bed around her and urged her to continue writing.

Pan-niang could read, but she knew nothing about ornate diction or literary technique.

There was, however, a small entertainment quarter nearby called Spring Pavilion Water Theater. In summer, when the weather was warm, she often went there with the familiar young women of the neighborhood to listen to storytellers and watch opera troupes perform. She naturally knew whether a story was good or bad.

In any case, Yang Pan-niang felt that her eldest sister’s story was exceptionally novel, completely different from the storybooks sold on the streets.

It was somewhat uninhibited, with the heroine drugged by an aphrodisiac right at the beginning.

Yet it was inexplicably captivating. It made one eager to know what would happen to the pitiful Bai Wanwan and how she would deal with the drug. After all, this concerned a young woman’s chastity and reputation!

Yang Man-niang did not stop writing. It was best to write as much as possible while there was daylight.

At night, she would have to light a lamp and waste precious oil.

Bai Wanwan naturally refused to submit to the ruffian Hou Wu. To preserve her virtue, she struck him with a candlestick and injured him. Then, under cover of darkness, she secretly fled the house.

By chance, she encountered an injured kitten. The heroine, already under the influence of the aphrodisiac, panicked as she tried to save it and stumbled into an inn. In a daze, she entered the first-class room in the entire establishment.

There, she encountered the guest staying inside.

Beneath the dazzling candlelight, the man was exceptionally tall and slender. He wore a dark python robe, with a jade-colored sash around his waist, and a white-jade crown of gold. His gaze was cold, his bearing so imposing that none could look directly at him. His entire person was breathtakingly handsome, radiating an innate nobility.

“Please, save me!”

Bai Wanwan, drugged and with only the last of her strength remaining, managed to utter those words.

Then the drug took full effect.

She fainted in the man’s arms.

At that point, the opening came to an end.

Yang Man-niang could not help releasing a long breath. She set down her brush and kneaded her stiffening neck.

When she rose and glanced outside, she saw that the sky had already begun to darken. Once again, she found herself longing for the computers and desk lamps of the modern world.

Then she turned her head.

At some point, her second brother, Yang Shilin, had returned. He was standing behind her, reading the freshly written manuscript.

His expression was somewhat strange.

“How is it?”

“Er... The story is interesting, but writing about... about an aphrodisiac seems inappropriate. If people find out, it may harm your reputation.”

Clearly, saying those words had been difficult. By the end, Second Brother Yang Shilin’s ears had turned red.

Yang Man-niang was momentarily stunned.

She had been focused on making money and on making the story as captivating as possible, forgetting that she was no longer in the modern world. People in this era were still rather conservative. Even their speech emphasized subtlety and elegance. Forget unmarried young women—even spoiled young gentlemen would not casually speak of an aphrodisiac.

But changing it was impossible.

The heroine being drugged was crucial to the entire direction of the story.

It was the opportunity that brought the male and female leads together.

If she altered it, she would have to rearrange and rewrite everything.

“It’s fine. I’ll wear a veil when the time comes. There’s nothing shameful about earning money.”

Yang Man-niang waved her hand.

There were matters of greater and lesser importance, and some things were more urgent than others. The family could not even afford meat right now, so she had no time to worry about her reputation.

If she wanted to make money within a month, the novel’s plot could not fall flat.

Otherwise, if it failed to become an instant sensation, it would not be long before she had to join the Beggars’ Sect with her second and third siblings.

What use would a good reputation be then?

“Eldest Sister... you write so well.”

After finishing the manuscript, Third Sister Yang Pan-niang hugged Man-niang’s arm. Her large, skull-like eyes shone brightly as she asked expectantly, “Miss Wanwan will be all right, won’t she? And who was that man at the end? He was so extraordinary and special!”

Clearly, Yang Man-niang’s judgment had been correct.

Domineering-man fiction had not suffered from cultural incompatibility in Northern Song society.

Although the domineering Prince Yu had appeared for only a short while and had not spoken a single line, he already had his first devoted admirer.

Yang Pan-niang was not satisfied with that brief appearance. She looked eager as she asked, “Eldest Sister, are you going to keep writing? Otherwise, I’ll go light the oil lamp!”

Second Brother Yang Shilin could not help widening his eyes.

He looked at the manuscript in his hands.

Was this book really that good?

Third Sister was always miserly with food. When cooking, she was reluctant to use oil, willing only to dab a little on a cloth and wipe the bottom of the pot. Yet now, for the first time ever, she actually wanted to burn lamp oil through the night.

“It’s dark now, so I’m done for today. This is only the first draft. Over the next few days, I’ll expand and revise it. Some of the scenes still need to be developed.”

In truth, there was nothing seriously wrong with the novel. But since this was Yang Man-niang’s first submission, she still intended to refine it as much as possible and do the best job she could.

Although she had acted completely confident in front of her second and third siblings, insisting that she would certainly get the story published in a newspaper, she was nervous inside. She had only just arrived in this era and had no absolute guarantee of success.

Over the following week, Yang Man-niang returned home from work each day, lit an oil lamp, and bent over the stuffy chest cabinet to continue revising and expanding the novel. She added some colloquial expressions and scenes of daily life that suited the era.

She continued revising and rewriting, deleting and cutting, rising to perform several jumping jacks whenever her body grew cold.

When her hands became numb from the chill, she had Third Sister Yang Pan-niang rub them before she continued writing.

By the time she finally put down her brush, she felt that her fingers were twitching involuntarily.

The opening of the novel came to a total of twenty thousand words. Judging by Yang Man-niang’s past experience in writing, this was already an excellent length. The content flowed smoothly from beginning to end. Though it was only twenty thousand words, every one of them was substantial, with no unnecessary padding.

Once satisfied, Yang Man-niang copied the entire manuscript over again in her neatest handwriting.

She rolled up the completed pages and wrapped the outside in waterproof oiled paper.

Then she drew a deep breath.

Next came the wait for the following day of rest.

She would visit the various newspaper offices and arrange for the novel to be printed and serialized!