They sold goods for two months, and almost every day they netted 50 yuan. Don’t underestimate these 50 yuan; they could be equivalent to 500 yuan in the future, or even more than a thousand.
In the span of two months, they earned more than 3,200 yuan. When Qin Xiangyang heard this figure, he was shocked into silence for quite a while. My goodness, they actually made so much money; it’s really a lot—more than 3,000 yuan. Previously, when he labored for others, the most he could earn in a year was just one or two yuan. But now, they’d earned more than 3,000 yuan in just two months.
"Brother, let’s deposit the money first. It’s too much to keep at home; it’s not safe," said Chun Xiangnuan. Since reading those ancient books, her demeanor had become more reserved, and she seemed to have become more sensible, too. Her perspective on matters had changed, and of course, her social interactions had also matured a lot.
"Alright, let’s go and deposit the money," Qin Xiangyang said as he prepared to leave with the cash, only to be stopped by Qin Xiangnuan. Who just carries money around like that? Aren’t you afraid of being robbed?
She took the money from Qin Xiangyang’s hands, only to find that his hands were trembling and his palms were sweaty. She found an ordinary bag and wrapped the 3,000 yuan in clothing, leaving 200 yuan as a floating fund. She and Qin Xiangyang went to the bank together. However, since both siblings were underage, they weren’t sure how to deposit the money. Upon arrival, the bank teller didn’t pay much attention to them, seeing that they were just two kids.
In the end, they had to bring out their household registration book, and explain that the adults in their family weren’t around, that they lived alone. Suddenly producing 3,000 yuan, they said they would come to deposit money every month. Now they could also be considered significant customers. After much discussion, the bank finally opened a passbook for them.
Qin Xiangxiang only relaxed after getting the passbook. So much money had been exchanged for such a small piece of paper—it felt rather miraculous.
Qin Xiangnuan placed the passbook inside the bag and held it tightly.
Once back home, Qin Xiangyang hid the passback in a concealed spot, his heart still pounding erratically.
Qin Xiangnuan poured a glass of water for her brother to help him calm down. She knew he needed time to properly digest everything. She herself took off her shoes, pulled up the blankets to go to sleep, which actually meant entering the system, eager to find out which books the system had prepared for her this time.
Over the past two months, she had spent more than two hours in the system every day, which actually equated to a whole day; During these days, she had finished reading the Analects, the Records of the Grand Historian, the Poetry, the Collection of Ancient Chinese Poems, as well as works by Laozi, Mozi, Zhuangzi, and Xunzi, among others...
In fact, she didn’t know how she managed to cram all these books into her brain. Unknowingly, she had read through all of them already.
As soon as she entered the system, she heard a ding.
Begin the second phase of learning.
Calligraphy, Qin Xiangnuan now understood somewhat; the so-called calligraphy is an integration of sentiment and thought, a discipline, an art. Its aesthetic appeal stems from nature, life, and social practice, and is closely interwoven with other things. If she lacked a substantial foundation, the characters she wrote would naturally be dull and tasteless.
Having read through so much classical literature, her mind was filled with many exquisite lines of poetry. When it comes to artistic conception, it’s something she had to experience herself, not through the eyes of others.