Chapter 57 Deal Struck

Chapter 57: The Deal

Meng Wan rose to greet him. "It is I. I hope the manager can make an exception. The price is negotiable."

Negotiable my ass! He didn't have a single cent to his name. He came here aiming to get it for free.

The plump manager held the crude thread-bound book. "Printing the book is easy, but I must ask the young master: who wrote this 'Human-Demon Romance'? Who is the scholar Qingxiao Jushi mentioned on it?"

Even though he was inwardly lamenting his own poverty, Meng Wan's face betrayed nothing. He put on airs and covered up his casually chosen pen name, saying, "That is not convenient to disclose."

The plump manager's mind raced. This young man seemed to carry some weight. The book must have been written by someone in his family. The writing was plain but the story flowed smoothly, and the perspective and style leaned toward a masculine perspective, most likely from his husband's pen.

But he didn't appear himself, instead letting the young master bring it out for printing...

Could it be that he wanted to test-sell it himself? Or did he have other connections?

He thought he had Meng Wan figured out, and wanted to keep this remarkable book. Smiling, he said, "To be honest with you, young master, I just flipped through a few pages. It is truly a fine book. Both the text and the illustrations are extremely novel. In my opinion, if it is printed, it will surely sell well! Only..."

Meng Wan first feigned delight, then acted hooked, asking anxiously, "Only what?"

The plump manager sighed. "In recent years, besides the open bookstores in the prefectural city, there are small workshops run privately. Once a wonderful novel appears on the market, they buy it and secretly print copies for private sale. This book in your hands might well meet the same fate."

Yu's printing technology was quite mature. As a result, the bigger the city, the more people could afford to read. But the small private workshops could never be completely eradicated. The original authors suffered. Some even directly tampered with the original book title, changed the author, and sold it indiscriminately.

Meng Wan looked flustered and asked eagerly, "Your studio is one of the best in the city. Isn't there a way to solve this?"

The plump manager smiled slightly, looking satisfied. "Other small bookstores naturally can't. But you may not know, young master, that our Panshi Studio has a top-notch papermaking technique. We produce a paper called Rouguang Jian, which can reveal text or paintings under sunlight. Therefore, some of our precious calligraphy and books are written on this paper."

Meng Wan's expression showed inner conflict. "Your studio is indeed formidable. I have never heard of such paper."

The plump manager earnestly persuaded, "If after you privately print it, it accidentally leaks out and gets secretly copied and sold by folk workshops, then this book will be ruined. It will have nothing to do with you anymore, and even the authorship will be tampered with."

Meng Wan was flustered, and he was so panicked he couldn't speak a complete sentence. "This, this..."

Behind him, Huang Zheng's lips twitched. He couldn't help turning around to snicker.

Fortunately, the plump manager was too focused on scheming against Meng Wan to notice him.

The plump manager thumped his chest and guaranteed, "If you trust me, you can sell the book entirely to our Panshi Studio. That way you'll get a good sum of silver, and also ensure that Qingxiao Jushi becomes famous in Changping Prefecture."

Meng Wan was tempted, but he seemed unable to make a decision. After hesitating for a long time, he turned and called Huang Zheng over. "Go to the prefectural school and find..."

The plump manager pricked up his ears and listened for a while, but only heard these six words. His heart skipped a beat. No wonder – the prefectural school gathered many famous scholars of Changping Prefecture. This book must have been written by them.

But these scholars were always aloof and proud. How could they write a novel and let family members sell it?

The young master's clothing wasn't from a wealthy family, but his expression and bearing were honest. He didn't seem like a thief. Could it be the husband of some poor scholar?

"Manager, I'm truly sorry. I can't decide on this matter. I'll have my younger brother go ask the family and come back to decide." Meng Wan said apologetically, extending his hand to indicate the manager should return the book.

Why would he let something already in his hands slip out of the studio?

The plump manager was courteous and held the book without letting go. He smiled and said, "Young master, no need to rush off. Our studio has a carriage. Why not let the carriage take your brother? You can wait in the studio, drink some tea, look at some paintings. In a short while he'll be back with the answer. This saves you the trouble of going back and forth."

"Well... since you say so, I'll trouble you." Meng Wan was only sending Huang Zheng for show. He didn't really want to leave, so he sat down quietly to drink tea.

Huang Zheng was gone for half an hour. At first Meng Wan feigned restlessness, but as time wore on he couldn't be bothered to keep up the charade. He asked the manager's permission and took a regular novel off the shelf to read.

Hmm – the writing was flowery. The content was pretty much the same as that "Ancient Temple Mystery" he'd seen in town. It ended with three wives and four concubines – all beautiful – plus several confidantes. Could something like this pass the censors? Didn't Yu law only permit one wife?

Meng Wan's worldview was turned upside down once again. He quickly finished it and picked up another. This one was fine. Although the ending again involved marrying a princess, at least he didn't have a bunch of wives; instead, it was just him and the princess forever.

By the time Huang Zheng rushed back, Meng Wan was already on his third book.

"Brother, I've asked. Come listen."

When they were near the prefectural school, he made an excuse to get off the carriage first. He hid around the corner for a while before pretending to go in and ask, then came out. In fact, he never entered the school gate.

Huang Zheng tried to mimic Meng Wan's acting, but his skills weren't up to scratch. After just one sentence, his face turned red. However, to the plump manager, this made him seem earnest.

Meng Wan stood up and walked aside with Huang Zheng. After listening to him with a grim expression, he pursed his lips and went to the plump manager. "Manager, please give me a price then. But you must agree: you cannot alter the content without my permission."

The plump manager's heart settled. He quickly agreed, "Of course. Once the book is printed, we will send two copies to your home for your review before we sell them." After all, being one of the top bookstores in the city, they had some credibility.

"As for the price, how about this?" The plump manager held up two fingers.

This time Meng Wan was genuinely shocked. His voice rose slightly: "So little?" He had written it with such painstaking effort and it was only worth twenty taels?!

The plump manager sat up straight. He had thought this young master was inexperienced, but he didn't expect him to think two hundred taels was too little. Fearing further complications, he frowned as if making a hard decision. "I am just the manager of the Panshi Studio's book division. I can only add eighty taels. Two hundred eighty taels of silver. Is that acceptable?"

Meng Wan's heart relaxed. So he had meant two hundred taels. Great, that was more than he had expected.

"Two hundred and eighty taels? Let me think, manager." Meng Wan put his hand to his forehead, as if in deep internal conflict.

The plump manager grew inwardly anxious and simply raised the price again. "How about I round it up to three hundred taels? That's the highest I can go as the bookstore manager."

Meng Wan agreed decisively. "Then it's settled. I just want to sign a contract with you as proof."

The plump manager beamed. "You're very meticulous, young master. Please come with me to draw up the contract."

After putting out three hundred taels of capital, selling each copy for three taels, and wholesaling to small vendors, a minimum of ten thousand copies would sell. The master's commission would give him three thousand taels - clearing two thousand seven hundred taels with tears of joy.

Oh, no – that three hundred was also from the master. He would net three thousand taels.

—

Outside the gate of Panshi Studio, Meng Wan tucked the heavy silver into his bosom and finally felt at ease.

That way, after renting a house, he could also buy a carriage. Then when Song Tingzhou went to school, he could come home easily.

Huang Zheng was also happy for him. He called Song Tingzhou "Big Brother" and referred to Meng Wan as "Brother-in-Law." "Brother-in-Law, this is great! Let's head back now!"

This trip with Meng Wan was more useful than his father constantly nagging him. He had really broadened his horizons today.

Meng Wan smiled, his eyes crinkling. "No, we're going to Kongmo Bookshop."

Huang Zheng was confused. "Huh? But didn't you just sign a contract with the Panshi Studio manager?" After all, his family ran a bookshop. Huang Zheng had attended a private school as a child and could read. He had witnessed the entire signing and fingerprinting.

Meng Wan put his hand over his brow, looked up at the towering building to the east with the sun overhead, and smiled faintly. "My contract didn't say I'd only sell to them."

— East of the city, Kongmo Bookshop.

Standing before the elegant and prestigious three-story building in the east, Meng Wan first observed for a while. He noticed that most of the people coming and going were scholars in blue robes, or servants from wealthy families.

He took a deep breath. The atmosphere here was solemn. Just from the outside, it was different from the previous two studios. Truly fitting for an imperial merchant.

He instructed Huang Zheng, "When we go in, watch for my cues. Don't talk or move around recklessly. You absolutely cannot snicker like you did in Panshi Studio. If that manager hadn't missed it, he would have gotten suspicious. Then all my groundwork would have been wasted."

Huang Zheng took the lesson to heart without resentment and obediently entered the bookshop gate ahead of him as Meng Wan had instructed.

Meng Wan followed after him, his eyes fell upon rows of towering bookshelves. The main hall facing the entrance, unlike other shops, had no desks, abacuses, or shopkeeper; instead, it held a statue of a deity, with an offering table before it. On the table, instead of fruits or meats, were placed brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Meng Wan glanced at the title above the statue—the Wenchang Emperor.

He stepped out from behind Huang Zheng and, facing the statue, sincerely bowed in reverence.

At his gesture, a few scholars reading in the shop regarded him with newfound respect.

The wooden stairs were of solid material, making no noise underfoot. A man with the bearing of a middle-aged scholar descended, stroking his neat and tidy beard, and said to Huang Zheng and Meng Wan:

“I see you two aren’t here to buy books, are you?” His gaze was clear and perceptive, and he immediately saw that Meng Wan had other intentions.

Since that was the case, Meng Wan saw no need to pretend. He asked directly, “Sir, are you the owner of this Kongmo Bookshop?”

The middle-aged scholar replied calmly, “Yes.”

Meng Wan glanced at Huang Zheng, who understood immediately. From his bosom, he pulled out another copy of *Human-Demon Romance*—even the rough edges were similar to the one they had shown the fat shopkeeper.

This time, Meng Wan wasted no words. He directly handed the book over, saying, “Please, sir, appraise this for me.”

The middle-aged scholar took the book, but instead of showing disdain for Meng Wan’s handmade volume, he straightened his clothes and sat upright on a nearby chair, looking solemn and respectful.

Meng Wan admired him inwardly. This man’s practiced movements suggested a deep reverence for all books—something Meng Wan himself could not achieve. It seemed to be the result of daily immersion in a scholarly family.

He stood aside, patiently waiting as the middle-aged scholar flipped through the pages one by one, reading until he finished the last page and closed the book.

“It shows some cleverness, but the prose is unrefined, mostly vernacular. However, the illustrations are concise, with smooth lines, well-drawn! Better than the text,” the middle-aged scholar commented.

Meng Wan listened in silence. His writing was ordinary, his classical Chinese poor; he relied on plain speech and outlandish ideas not found in this world. It was fine for ordinary people to read for amusement, but in the hands of a connoisseur, it was somewhat lacking.

The middle-aged scholar asked further, “Who is Qingxiao Hermit? I’ve never heard of that name.”

Meng Wan dared not act cocky. He answered honestly, “It’s my own pseudonym.”

The middle-aged scholar stroked his beard. “Oh, so you gave yourself that alias… You wrote this book!” He stood up from the chair, eyes wide.

Meng Wan said respectfully, “Yes, I wrote it.”

The middle-aged scholar then gave him a careful look. “Not bad. Please sit.”

When told to sit, Meng Wan immediately took a seat on the other chair, his movements fluid and unhesitating, causing the middle-aged scholar to look at him once more.

“Your drawings are quite good. May I ask who your teacher was?”

Meng Wan humbly replied, “I grew up poor, sir. I just doodled on my own and never had a teacher. I hope I haven't embarrassed myself before you.”

The middle-aged scholar then said twice over, “Good. Very good.”

He set the book down. “This book is decent and saleable. However, not many here read storybooks. If you want a better price, you should try Baojin Studio or Panshi Studio.”

Meng Wan stated bluntly, “To be honest, sir, I’ve already been to both.”

“Oh, well then.”

The middle-aged scholar didn’t ask further. He thought for a moment, then said, “Then leave it with me to sell. I'll give you thirty percent of each sale. You can come by each month to collect the silver.”

Meng Wan let out a breath. This was truly the best outcome—he hadn’t expected to achieve it until the second volume.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

After they left, the middle-aged scholar carried the book upstairs. There were partitioned private rooms on the upper floor, and two young attendants stood outside one of them. Upon seeing the middle-aged scholar, they respectfully addressed him, “Second Master.”

The scholar walked around the screen and entered. He placed the book on a low table. A pair of soft, fair, and slender hands picked up the book, and an elegant voice said, “Did Second Uncle just accept this? The illustrations are quite good.”

The middle-aged scholar took a cup of warm tea and took a sip. “The person is even more interesting than the painting, and like you, a xiaoge.”

The owner of that voice was quite surprised upon hearing this. “Oh?”

—

Leaving Kongmo Bookshop, Meng Wan and Huang Zheng splurged on renting an ox cart.

Huang Zheng sat in front with the driver. Once they were far away, he couldn’t hold back and said, “Brother, why were you so polite to that shopkeeper? Why did you tell him everything? And we just gave him the book for free? Panshi Studio gave us…”

He lowered his voice, “Gave us three hundred taels of silver!”

Meng Wan wanted to say, “Little bro, you don’t know squat.”

“The man who received us isn’t an ordinary shopkeeper. He’s most likely the owner of Kongmo Bookshop. Even if he’s not the owner, he’s definitely someone important. I can’t explain it to you—you'll develop your eye with practice.”

“Also, did we really give it away for free? They're providing the labor, materials, and printing. For every book they sell, we get thirty percent. If they sell it for ten years, I'll have a steady income of silver for ten years. Can Panshi Studio’s three hundred taels compare?”

Meng Wan narrowed his eyes, gazing into the distance. The two contracts in his bosom were both for *Human-Demon Romance* Volume One. Now it all depended on whether this first volume would deliver.