On the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month, light crept in from the east. The sun rose faintly, and the wind stirred red lanterns adorned with rabbit-shaped paper cuttings, casting shadows on the gray bricks of Huizhou-style buildings. By the Tianhuang Creek, four or five people carried wooden boards, mounted scroll paintings, and large custom-made oil-paper umbrellas. In no time, they had assembled a stall roughly five meters long and three meters wide, with ten or so elmwood boxes of varying heights inside.

The stall stood right beside the creek, less than a hundred meters from the Qingcheng Mountain Academy. As the morning light spilled in, scholars arrived in droves. Passing by the stall, many paused.

“Chen Paper Shop… blind bags?” A tall mast stood in front of the stall, from which hung a rolled-up paper banner. A finely crafted wooden sign leaned against the table, engraved with the name: “Chen Paper Shop Blind Bags.”

Everyone knew Chen Paper Shop—it was fairly well-known. They recognized the paper rolls, too. Clearly, Chen Paper Shop was selling paper here.

Five or six scholars stood in front of the stall, intrigued by the term “blind bag.”

“According to the Shuowen Jiezi, ‘blind’ means lacking pupils. I personally find this name rather Daoist in flavor—when the heart is lost, one forgets; when the eyes are lost, one is blind. A leaf before the eye renders the void truly void…”

“Brother Zhang speaks wisely! Laozi once said, ‘Five colors blind the eyes, five tones deafen the ears.’ This shop name—ah, the more I think about it, the more poetic it feels!”

“Indeed, indeed. In today’s marketplace, the scholarly spirit is fading. It’s rare to see such a refined establishment. My heart is truly comforted!”

Before they could spin a full philosophical essay, “Brother Zhang,” holding his school satchel with scholarly flair, asked, “May I ask, shopkeeper, what exactly is a blind bag?”

Xianjin looked up from behind the wooden rack, flashing eight pearly white teeth. “It means you don’t know what you’re buying. You pay me, I give you a cowhide pouch with ten sheets of assorted paper inside—‘blind’ means you can’t see what you’re getting!”

“Brother Zhang”: …

That’s genuinely blind. And the shop name? Brutally literal.

“If I can’t see what I’m buying, why would I buy it?” asked the scholar beside “Brother Zhang”—the one who’d quoted Laozi earlier, now frowning. Clearly, he had no idea what a “blind box” was.

Ah, but in another timeline thousands of years later, a bunch of cash-flush, drama-loving collectors would spend fortunes chasing full sets of figurines—some trying to curb their spending by cutting off their own hands, others charging bravely into every overpriced battlefield.

Xianjin smiled. “The finest sound leads to the simplest path. The great Dao is simple. Seas turn to mulberry fields, all things are but straw dogs. Do you know what lies ahead? Is the road in the clouds? In the fog? In the rain? In the mountains? If you knew everything in advance—wouldn’t that be boring?”

Behind her, Zhou Ergou whispered to Manager Dong, “What does the accountant mean?”

Manager Dong replied with a blank face, “It means—don’t overthink it. Just buy.”

Zhou Ergou nodded admiringly. “No wonder he’s the accountant. Even his sales pitch sounds cultured.”

Manager Dong thought of the Chen family’s study, which had been turned upside down the day before, and gave Xianjin a complicated look. She’d just memorized those lines—and delivered them so smoothly.

The Jing County workshop had real potential.

The “Laozi-quoting” scholar pondered Xianjin’s words and found them quite reasonable. He nodded slightly. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’re a woman who reads.” Then he curiously eyed the wooden cabinet behind her, packed tightly with dozens of cowhide paper bags, all uniform in thickness and size. “Ten sheets per bag?”

Xianjin kept smiling with her eight gleaming teeth. “That’s right! Each bag contains ten sheets of different paper—some are Jade Plate, some are Tribute Blend, some are bamboo…” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “Some bags even contain Four-Zhang Xuan or Huizhou Chengxintang paper!”

Four-Zhang Xuan! The scholars exchanged excited glances. They knew that one! A single sheet could cost fifty or sixty taels!

The academy headmaster had a painting—Spring Equinox Bamboo Rain—done on Four-Zhang Xuan. Ah! That misty aura! That resilience! That silky texture—though they’d never touched it, their imaginations ran wild.

“Brother Zhang” leaned in, voice hushed to match hers. “How much for one bag?”

Xianjin raised her left hand and flipped over a carved wooden sign.

“One bag, 120 wen.”

120 wen! Not exactly cheap. A dou of rice only cost 80 wen!

But compared to the price of paper, it wasn’t outrageous. A sheet of Three-Provinces Paper cost 20 wen, New Bureau Paper 10 wen, Bamboo Paper 5 wen. Ten sheets per bag—if you got a Jade Plate or, better yet, a Chengxintang or even a Four-Zhang Xuan… Then 120 wen was nothing!

The value could increase tenfold—no, a hundredfold!

“Brother Zhang’s” eyes lit up. He was about to pull out his silver when the “heart-comforted” scholar beside him nudged his elbow.

“What if the bag I get is all Bamboo Paper?” the “heart-comforted” scholar asked. “A sheet of bamboo paper is only a few wen. Ten sheets would be fifty wen. You’re selling it to me for 120 wen—wouldn’t I be getting ripped off?”

Xianjin glanced at him—his jacket cuffs were faded, his cheeks chapped from the cold, his frame noticeably thinner than “Brother Zhang” beside him… Clearly not the target demographic for blind boxes.

But—Everyone is a potential customer. The saying “Don’t look down on the poor youth” applies just as well in business.

Anyone can rise. Anyone can fall.

Still smiling with her eight gleaming teeth, Xianjin replied, “Among these 500 cowhide paper bags, I guarantee there are no fewer than 100 sheets of Tribute Blend, Bark Paper, and similar types; no fewer than 50 sheets of Coral Note, Gold-Splashed, Peach Blossom Paper and the like; and no fewer than 30 sheets of Two-Zhang Xuan…”

As the sunlight grew stronger, more students from Qingcheng Mountain Academy gathered around the stall.

Zhou Ergou laid out the woodblock signs one by one.

Small groups were drawn in by the words “Blind Bag,” crowding around to read the boards.

Xianjin raised her voice. “I can’t guarantee what’s in the bag you buy, but I can guarantee I’m telling the truth. Maybe you’ll be lucky—and your very first bag will contain a sheet of Four-Zhang Xuan!”

The crowd thickened.

Xianjin’s gaze lingered on “Brother Zhang,” dressed in fine silk, and she encouraged him, “A bag for 150 wen is just a day’s worth of meals. If you get a Four-Zhang Xuan, you could inscribe your favorite poems and paintings on it. And when you pass the imperial exams, Chen Paper Shop would love to buy that sheet back at a high price to mount and display!”

All eyes turned to “Brother Zhang.”

He looked a little dazzled. But the thin “heart-comforted” scholar elbowed him again. “What if the shopkeeper hides the good bags and doesn’t give them to us? Even if there’s good paper inside, we’d never get it.”

Xianjin raised her right hand and pulled out a large wooden box from under the rack. She shook it with both hands, and it made a rustling sound.

“Five hundred bags, five hundred numbers! Pay 150 wen, draw a number! Whatever number you get, that’s the bag you receive!”

She laughed brightly. “With this system, do you think there’s any room for trickery?”

The more people gathered, the louder Xianjin’s voice became. Her tone was crisp and clear, like morning sunlight.

“In business, the worst thing is not being able to play fair! The New Year is coming—people need good paper for greeting scrolls, woodblock prints, and poetry! If Chen Paper Shop dares to use Four-Zhang Xuan in our blind bags, it means we’re not afraid to lose!”

“The more you buy, the better your chances of getting Four-Zhang Xuan!”

“150 wen…” Xianjin smiled, her usually delicate brows and eyes now glowing with warmth and charm. “You won’t be cheated, you won’t be tricked. Honest goods, fair to all—young or old!”