I Became Rich After Marrying a Poor Talented Man

I, Lin Xiaoman, the stingiest teahouse proprietress in Kyoto, gritted my teeth and agreed to the matchmaker's "wedding deal" in order to buy the shop next door that could hold three more tea tables - to marry a poor scholar for only twenty taels of silver, which was five taels cheaper than the deposit for the shop. I originally thought that the second son of the Ning family was a sick man who had to cover himself with a handkerchief when he coughed up blood. Who would have thought that when he went through my account book on the wedding night, he used "Nine Chapters of Arithmetic" to calculate that I had omitted to record the three kilograms of Biluochun tea that Mr. Hu had borrowed on credit last month. Co-author I picked up a living abacus? What's even more shocking is that the money he earned from copying books increased more and more, and the policy papers he wrote were secretly copied and sold by literati. Someone actually raised fifty taels and asked, "This policy paper was written by Mr. Ning himself." I hid behind the counter and counted silver ingots to have fun, secretly trying to find a doctor to detoxify him. Unexpectedly, Su Rou, who had broken off the engagement, came back crying: "Brother A Yan, it's Rou'er's fault. You shouldn't let your sister misunderstand..." Yes, this elm-head believes it! He wanted to make peace with a cold face. Okay, I packed up and went back to the teahouse, then used the quick calculation tricks he taught me to open branches and start a chain. Now the flag of "Manxiang Tower" is hanging at the entrance of the palace. Until one night when there was a heavy rain, there was a soaked figure kneeling at the door of the teahouse, holding in his hand the golden plaque awarded "the best talent in the world", his eyes were red: "Xiao Man, I have saved three carts of betrothal gifts, is it enough to buy the entire street?"