'Selling them just brings more glory to their Liufang Bookstore, doesn't it?'
Feng Shuyu wished there were more people like that. So what if Qiu Tao was up to his little tricks behind the scenes? The more of these second-hand dealers there were and the higher their success rate, the better. She could already picture how the official gazettes in her bookstore would soon be snatched up by eager customers.
That was an effect Qiu Tao could never achieve, no matter how many forgeries he produced.
Rarity creates value. The copies in Qiu Tao's hands were all inferior goods. Who would want to collect second-rate items?
Just as Feng Shuyu was thinking this, a furious roar suddenly erupted from outside Liufang Bookstore—
"You, with the surname Feng! Get the hell out here!"
Feng Shuyu's hands finally paused.
However, she was not about to obediently stand up and walk out.
Just from the sound of his voice, Feng Shuyu knew who it was.
