Chapter 56 The Bookshop

Chapter 56: Bookstore

The government offices and official schools of Changping Prefecture were all located in the east of the city, with the prefectural school even farther out, at the easternmost part. But now the silver they had, after deducting travel expenses, was barely twenty taels even including the Linseng stipend and Magistrate Zhao's grant. With this amount of silver, they could only rent a house in the north of the prefectural city, and even that might not be enough.

They found a cheap inn in the north of the city to settle down first, and everyone washed up and rested well for the night.

Meng Wan took stock of their situation. The most important thing now was to find a place to settle down, so that Song Tingzhou could go to the prefectural school to complete his enrollment without any trouble. The second was to earn money. Their current money, even after accounting for rent, was definitely not enough for daily expenses. Although Linseng could enter the prefectural school for free, they had to provide their own brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, which were major expenses.

Next, they needed to see if his book could sell for a good price. The idea of splitting the profits was a pipe dream; selling individual copies would probably be taken advantage of, but there was no other way. They would have to take it step by step. They also needed to start looking into a breakfast shop. Fried dough was a guaranteed moneymaker. With these two contingency plans, at least one would be able to support the household expenses.

The next day, Song Tingzhou and Meng Wan first went straight to the brokerage to find a place to live. Meng Wan thought it would be better to find that young broker from the east of the city they had used last time. Although he was young, he was more reliable than the older brokers and could patiently show them places.

He also asked Huang Zheng to inquire about the more famous bookstores in the city, the more famous, the better.

The three of them divided the work, leaving Chang Jinhua at the inn to watch the luggage.

Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou walked to the brokerage in the east of the city. The walk alone took half an hour, and he couldn't help but feel disheartened. "This brokerage is already the northernmost one (in the east), and it still takes so long. I heard that the closer the courtyard is to the north gate, the cheaper it is. If we rent a courtyard all the way in the north, and the prefectural school is in the east, your round trip would be about an hour."

Song Tingzhou comforted him, "This is nothing. It's just leaving early and returning late. It's already very good."

Meng Wan pursed his lips. If it didn't work, he would have to have Song Tingzhou stay overnight at the prefectural school.

They entered the brokerage to find the young broker. Unexpectedly, the young broker still recognized them.

"Mr. Song, long time no see. You two have gotten married? Congratulations, congratulations." The young broker still spoke in a mature and sophisticated tone, but his attitude was much better than before, with a subtle hint of respect, neither obvious nor deliberate.

"Thank you. This time, we'll trouble you to show us some houses in the north of the city," Song Tingzhou said politely. He did not feel superior because he had passed the examination to become the Top Scholar; he still thought of himself as just a poor scholar.

"Sure, sure. Please wait a moment."

The young broker first checked the brokerage's records for courtyards. After a moment, he knew what was available and directly took Song Tingzhou to the alleys near the north gate.

The alleys here were built haphazardly, crammed into every available space, and arranged without any pattern. Exiting one alley led to the ends of several others. There were people shouting curses, brightly dressed street singers, peddlers wandering the streets, and suspicious-looking pickpockets.

Although he had long anticipated this result, seeing it with his own eyes made Meng Wan's heart sink.

The young broker said, "The houses in the north of the city, except for those near the examination hall in the east, are slightly more expensive. The closer to the north gate, the cheaper. But as you two can see, there are many people here, a mix of all sorts of people, often petty thieves and ruffians. I'm afraid it's not very safe."

Song Tingzhou was not very satisfied either. He asked, "What about something better than this?"

The young broker answered directly, "For something better, if you rent an entire small courtyard, the annual rent would be fifteen taels or more."

There were even more expensive ones, like the one they had rented before, near the northern part of the city and close to the examination hall, which cost over fifty taels a year. It was clear these two wouldn't rent that, otherwise they would have renewed the lease back then.

Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou exchanged a look. They only had a little over twenty taels and some copper coins. They couldn't spend all their silver on rent.

"Make way, coming through, everyone move aside."

The place where they stood was narrow. A burly man pushing a cart wanted to pass. It wasn't that he couldn't get through, but the two sacks on his cart were covered in mud and waterweed, dripping wet and smelling of fish. He was obviously afraid of dirtying their clothes, so the three quickly moved aside.

Meng Wan noticed that the bags on the cart twitched from time to time, showing that the fish inside had just been caught and were still alive.

He suddenly asked, "Is there a dock outside the north gate?"

The young broker didn't know why he asked, and replied, "Not in the north of the city, but in the west."

Outside the west gate of Changping Prefecture, there was a river named the Feng River, connecting to Jianping Prefecture in the north and Fengtian Prefecture in the south. On weekdays, many laborers worked at the dock. If the north of the city was considered the slums of Changping Prefecture, then the west could be considered the working-class district, with both poor and moderately wealthy. Overall, it was better than the north, but not by much. At least the public safety was better, and the streets were much more orderly.

Seeing that he seemed interested in the west of the city, the young broker explained, "If you're asking about houses in the west, I don't have many on hand. However, there are a few in the west near the north, which is what I mentioned—renting the whole thing costs fifteen taels or more."

Meng Wan said, "What about those with a shopfront in front, or those with a back or side door adjacent to a shop? Do you have any?"

"This..." The young broker couldn't answer.

"Tell you what, our brokerage also has a branch in the west of the city, and the owner is the same. If you trust me, I'll go ask them." They got a commission for every rental deal. Good jobs rarely came his way anyway, and Scholar Song and his husband were kind and easy to talk to, the best clients possible. The young broker genuinely wanted to earn this money.

Of course he trusted him. Meng Wan had heard from the inn attendant that the owner of this east city brokerage had an official position and had a government registration, so it was more reliable than small brokerages.

Meng Wan stated their conditions. "Brother, just go and find. We need a courtyard with three rooms. If it comes with a small shopfront, even better. Keep the price as low as possible."

These conditions were neither easy nor impossible to meet. Changping Prefecture was large, with many houses in the west and north. It wasn't impossible to find, but since it was a prefectural city, finding a low-priced one would definitely be more troublesome.

After a long and tiring day, they felt uneasy without having secured a place. Meng Wan was reluctant to spend money on an oxcart to go back, so they walked back. His legs were sore from walking for so long. He quietly rubbed them, but Song Tingzhou noticed.

Song Tingzhou half-crouched in front of Meng Wan. "Get on."

"Oh, forget it. I can still walk." Being carried by Song Tingzhou would draw attention again.

Song Tingzhou said nothing, but did not stand up either.

Stubborn ox.

Meng Wan laughed. If you're not afraid, what the hell am I afraid of?

He climbed onto Song Tingzhou's back. "Carry me well, don't drop your husband now."

Song Tingzhou slowly stood up, his steps steady. "As you command."

He carried him for half an hour. It wasn't until they were near the inn that Meng Wan was put down.

"I wonder if mother and Huang Zheng have eaten. The noodles at the inn are really terrible. Why don't we buy some outside and bring them back?" Meng Wan suggested.

There were several food stalls near the inn. Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou ordered two bowls of plain noodles, three wen each. It was acceptable, and the portion was generous.

Meng Wan picked a couple of strands of noodles from his own bowl and gave them to Song Tingzhou. "I can't finish. Help me eat some."

Song Tingzhou, in turn, put a few slices of vegetables from his bowl into Meng Wan's. He liked leafy greens.

The noodle shop was also run by a couple. The man cooking the noodles glanced at the young couple, then at his own wife—and got glared at.

The woman took the ladle and chopsticks from her husband, scooped a full bowl of noodles and soup, and slammed it down in front of Meng Wan and the others. "Eat, it's on the house. Those rough men know to ask for more if they're not full, but you two young men are too shy to ask."

Plain noodles at three wen a bowl, and they could get extra? Given the prices and rent in the prefectural city, three-wen plain noodles barely made a living.

Meng Wan took a sip of the noodle soup, his heart warm. He and Song Tingzhou looked at each other through the steam rising from the bowls, and instantly felt all their fatigue melt away.

No matter how difficult the times, there are always people who remain sincere amidst worldly ways.

They ate the noodles, then ordered two more bowls to take back to the inn, promising to return the bowls later. When they got back, only Chang Jinhua was there.

"I bought these from the noodle shop across the street. My cousin and I have already eaten. Try them quickly."

Meng Wan handed a bowl to Chang Jinhua. It was almost dark, so she must have been hungry for a while.

Chang Jinhua picked at the noodles, criticizing him. "You're married now, and you're still calling him 'cousin'."

Meng Wan grinned and said, "Then what should I call him? Husband?"

Chang Jinhua scolded him, "Who cares what you call him? You're married now, but you still don't act serious."

As Chang Jinhua was eating her noodles, Huang Zheng also returned. The door was open, and Meng Wan spotted him at once; Huang Zheng was also looking exhausted.

Meng Wan didn't call out to him, letting him go to his room to eat first.

After a short while, Song Tingzhou went downstairs to return the bowls. When he came back up, Huang Zheng then entered Chang Jinhua's room with him.

Huang Zheng had been walking all day and had truly covered a lot of ground. "I headed east, asking around as I went, and even swallowed my pride to ask a few former coworkers." Strange to say, when he was there, those people had sneered at him disdainfully, but after he left, when he went back, they actually said a few kind words for him.

"From what they told me and what I've gathered, there are about thirty or so bookshops of various sizes in the city, but only three are household names.

First, Kongmo Bookshop in the east. I heard it's run by some imperial merchant. Only they can sell the official gazettes from the court. If any famous annotated books come down from the capital, only they can print them, then distribute to other bookstores. If another bookstore dares to print them secretly, it's a capital offense."

As Huang Zheng spoke, he felt a mix of fear and longing. If he could open a bookstore like that, his father would be overjoyed.

Meng Wan waited quietly for him to continue.

"Second is the Baojin Studio where I used to work, in the west. They sell the most varied goods, and what makes the most money is selling storybooks. Small-time dealers elsewhere who don't have their own print shops mostly buy from them." But privately, Huang Zheng didn't want Meng Wan to do business with them.

"Then there's Panshi Studio in the south. They mainly sell brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. I've heard only they have certain fine brushes and fine inkstones, and their paper is the best in Changping."

Huang Zheng had spoken at length, and their room had no tea or cups, so he could only endure his thirst.

Meng Wan rested his chin on his hand and pondered. These three stores balanced each other nicely. Being able to form a three-way balance with an imperial merchant likely meant that the masters behind Baojin Studio and Panshi Studio were also no small figures. That was good—he wasn't afraid of high backgrounds, only of a monopoly.

"But if the rental agent sends someone tomorrow, we can't leave Mother alone." Meng Wan looked at Song Tingzhou. This meant they had to split up.

The next morning, it was Meng Wan and Huang Zheng who went out. Song Tingzhou had to first report back to the prefectural school. Whether or not they found a place, he had to start school the day after.

---

Coming out of the ornate and elegant Baojin Studio, Meng Wan's heart sank. He hadn't even seen the proper manager; a low-level clerk had brushed him off. Huang Zheng said this man was someone he recognized, not even a full manager—just responsible for purchasing.

What's worse, the clerk mocked them as they left.

"How ridiculous! A young master like that dares to talk business with our Baojin Studio? Do we let just anyone in?"

"Huang Zheng, if you're jealous of our studio's wealth, just grovel properly to your uncle—lick his boots. Maybe he'll let you work here."

"Thinking of crooked schemes, even bringing a young man along. How embarrassing!"

Huang Zheng's anger flared, and he nearly got into a fight with the clerk. Meng Wan stopped him. "If you want this to stop here, sneak after that clerk tonight, ambush him with a sack and beat him up, then be done with it. But don't follow me tomorrow—just go straight back to your hometown and farm."

Hearing this, Huang Zheng held himself back with extreme effort, swallowing his humiliation.

Meng Wan ignored him, then steadied himself and headed south to Panshi Studio. The south was all high-ranking mansions; many officials in Changping lived there. The lanes here were wider and cleaner than the main streets in the north, and there were no hawkers calling out.

Panshi Studio was a single-story building, restored with rustic elegance. Entering, it turned out to be a compound divided into: Book Hall, Brush Edge, Paper Hall, and Ink Pool.

Paper Hall had the most people coming and going, the others less so. Several clerks, dressed as managers, were all negotiating business.

Meng Wan stepped toward Book Hall. A young attendant at the door greeted them: "Sir, are you buying books for yourself or for your spouse at home?"

Meng Wan's appearance was striking, and though dressed plainly, he didn't have the timid air of a commoner. Huang Zheng beside him looked more like his servant, so no one mistook them.

Meng Wan smiled. "Young man, I have a manuscript. May I ask if your esteemed shop could print a few copies for me?"

"Ah? Young man, if you just want a single manuscript printed, you could go to Zhujian Bookstore in town." The attendant spoke politely—unlike at Baojin Studio, where they would have said, "What do you think this bookstore is, a place for your two measly books? Get lost!"

"Young man, could you ask your manager for me? I'd be most grateful." Meng Wan pulled out a thread-bound book from his bosom. The paper was thin, and the edges had rough cut marks—obviously homemade. Beneath the book, he pressed a small piece of silver, worth half a month's wages for this attendant.

The attendant saw Meng Wan tuck the silver under the book, hesitated, then took it, slipping the coin into his own pocket. "I'll ask the manager then. Sir, you can come in and sit, where you'll hear his decision."

Meng Wan smiled again. "Good."

He went in, chose a chair to sit on, gestured for Huang Zheng to stand behind him, and remained silent.

When negotiating, you have to at least set the right posture.

Before even fifteen minutes had passed, a short, stout manager rushed out of the Book Hall. "So it's this young master who wants to print a book?"