Chapter 21: Painting a Grand Vision

Chapter 21: Painting a Grand Vision

The warehouse was situated behind the stone mortar, constructed with thick layers of brick and stone, its floor elevated one meter above ground level, supported by eight pillars outside.

Xianjin ascended three steps, watching as Zhou Ergou and Manager Dong each inserted a key into their respective locks on either side, followed by a "click," and the mother-and-child lock opened obediently.

It felt somewhat solemn.

Xianjin's peripheral vision couldn't help but glance at the window to her left—

A small window stood wide open.

Its frame seemed to whisper invitations.

Xianjin glanced again at the sophisticated mother-and-child lock.

One could say that the previous operation was more about ceremony than practicality.

Xianjin's lips twitched as she patted Manager Dong on the shoulder and pointed at the window, suggesting, "Once we settle the accounts, let's affix bars over each window, shall we?"

Manager Dong peeked over and his face flushed red in an instant.

Chen Fu took a bite of his bun and burst out laughing, his cackles echoing like those of a man who had lost his mind.

The warehouse, deserving of a mother-and-child lock, was larger than the storefront, housing dozens of camphorwood cabinets arranged in order, emanating a strong scent of Sichuan pepper.

It was quite pungent.

Xianjin leaned close to the wall, inhaling the aroma of the pepper paste that clung to it.

"Xuan paper requires dryness," Chen Fu explained between bites of his bun, "apart from elevating the ground and laying blue bricks, the pepper paste serves a significant purpose."

After hastily finishing his bun, he pulled out a silk handkerchief to meticulously wipe his hands and mouth before stepping into the warehouse.

Xianjin gave him a few extra glances.

It wasn't his knowledge of Xuan paper that surprised her, but rather his act of cleaning his hands and mouth before entering the warehouse—it revealed that this love-struck man still held a deep reverence for the paper industry.

It was intriguing.

Xianjin smiled, her lips curling slightly.

Inside the warehouse, there were two major categories—raw and processed Xuan paper—and dozens of subcategories, including Jia Gong, Yuban, Coral, Mother-of-Pearl Paper, Cold Gold, Wine Gold, Wax Raw Gold Flower Pattern, Peach Red Tiger Skin... Each category was indicated by sandalwood plaques scattered across the cabinets.

"...Xuan paper is divided into raw and processed," Manager Dong began, chattering like an old woman, "raw Xuan paper retains its original form after production, while processed Xuan paper is treated with alum or similar substances, making the paper hard and resilient, preventing ink and color from bleeding. It's perfect for detailed brushwork or making scrolls."

Xianjin touched the paper labeled "Jia Gong."

It was smooth, delicate, yet somewhat soft.

It must be raw Xuan paper.

Xianjin scanned the room. "What type of paper do we have the most of in our inventory?"

Manager Dong pursed his lips.

Xianjin turned her gaze to the stack in the corner... Hmm... yellow paper?

"It's bamboo paper," Manager Dong said with a hint of disdain, "we focus on quality here. I was surprised when I checked the inventory a few days ago. Why would we make so many stacks of this stuff? There is good bamboo paper called Yuku, made from the best bamboo in Sichuan and Fujian—but the stack we have has nothing to do with Yuku paper!"

He tore off a sheet and handed it to Xianjin. "Feel this. How can they even call this paper?!"

How should she put it?

Manager Dong's condescending attitude was quite... mean?

He usually appeared honest, solid, and composed.

But when it came to paper gossip, he was downright petty.

Xianjin laughed as she touched it.

Well.

Based on her shallow, superficial, and limited understanding of paper.

Was this stack of bamboo paper akin to the rough paper used by mischievous children in later generations for calligraphy practice?

"Why did we make so much of this kind of paper?"

Xianjin asked with a smile, a sudden realization dawning on her. "When summarizing the annual production of our Chen family workshops, do we report the total amount of paper produced?"

Manager Dong nodded. "Yes, Jing County has been leading for several consecutive years. Last year, we produced around fifty thousand sheets."

Realizing what Xianjin meant, Manager Dong paused, then resumed his mean demeanor. "Oh! This is padding the numbers! Deceiving ourselves!"

You're being quite the critic!

Xianjin chuckled silently.

Chen Fu walked ahead, exclaiming in surprise, "...There's actually Four-Zhang Xuan!"

Xianjin quickened her pace, approaching a massive sheet of paper laid out on the blue bricks!

Estimating, it was approximately fourteen to fifteen meters long and three to four meters wide, the paper a milky white, visibly robust and substantial!

Chen Fu's eyes welled up as he turned to Xianjin, his excitement palpable. "Four-Zhang Xuan! Only a national scholar is worthy to pen upon it, only a renowned scholar may apply ink! A small workshop in Jing County actually possesses Four-Zhang Xuan!"

Zhou Ergou's eyes also glistened with emotion. "Last year, Master San Shun and over twenty paper-making masters worked tirelessly in the workshop right ahead for four days and nights to produce this Four-Zhang Xuan! They managed to create half a knife, and there are still twenty-seven sheets remaining."

Tears welled up in Zhou Ergou's eyes. "What's four-zhang Xuan paper? When Master Li was still around, our family could make six-zhang and eight-zhang Xuan... A ream of paper sold for 150 taels of silver! Now that Master Li is no longer with us, we can never see the sight of over a hundred papermakers from Jing County working together again!"

Four zhang was already so spectacular.

How much more so for eight zhang.

A ream of eight-zhang Xuan paper sold for 150 taels, equivalent to ten thousand yuan.

So where was the money?

Xianjin thought of the pitiful one tael and one mace in her account, and she chuckled inwardly. One thousand taels—she had been swindled out of too little!

Surveying her surroundings, Xianjin came up with a plan. She whispered instructions to Manager Dong and made do with plain vegetable soup and millet rice at the workshop. In the afternoon, Chen Fu and Xianjin went to Tianhuang Brook. The teahouse was built by the brook, facing the renowned Qingcheng Mountain Courtyard. Perhaps after their midday rest, scholars in fine cotton robes walked past with sleepy eyes, rubbing them while carrying cloth bags as they hurried inside.

Xianjin retracted her gaze and saw a middle-aged man with dark skin, short stature, and sturdy limbs coming over in haste.

Smiling, Xianjin greeted him. "Master Li, I've heard so much about you!"

Upon seeing his visitors—a man dressed in pink satin, wearing a hat with a gemstone top, and having powdered face, blackened eyebrows; and a young girl in coarse clothing, with a wooden hairpin holding her hair in place, looking indifferent with fine brows and eyes—Li Sanshun felt a sudden darkness before his eyes. He felt hopeless and let out a despairing sigh. "The Chen family sent just the two of you?"

Just the two of you?

A dandy and a woman?

Li Sanshun plopped down on a wooden stool and wiped his eyes. "...Ergou said someone from the old hometown came, wanting to revitalize our papermaking in Jing County! I was happy! I couldn't sleep for two days! I was dreaming of making paper!"

Li Sanshun glanced at the dandy.

The dandy had just been eating peanuts, and a piece of red peanut skin still clung to the corner of his mouth.

What an idiot!

Tears flowed down Li Sanshun's cheeks. "...The Chen family has been kind to our old Li family. My mother was saved by Old Master's ginseng root. We repay kindness! Our family, two generations and three people, worked tirelessly!"

"But this is unfair!"

"What do you know?"

"You know how to eat peanuts!"

"And what does this woman know?"

Li Sanshun slapped his thigh and wept bitterly.

Chen Fu was at a loss.

Xianjin placed a hand on Chen Fu's shoulder. When Old Man Li Sanshun's sobs subsided, she calmly spoke:

"I may not know how to make paper, but I know how to sell it."

"You make the paper, and I sell it."

"We need to sell the paper to make money. With money, we can make even better paper. Then, I'll hire a hundred helpers for you, dig the widest water channels, and produce the grandest large sheets of paper. I will surely help you recreate the legend of the eight-zhang Xuan!"