Chapter 71: 070 Manuscript Fees

Zhao Han noticed an interesting phenomenon: those most receptive to the theory of equal human worth were neither peasants nor laborers, but outcast households and household slaves!

At the same time, they also had to be literate and possess a degree of independent thought.

Take Fei Chun and Fei Yu, for example. They too wanted to join the Great Unity Society, but met with collective opposition from its members.

Not only did their masters remain silent, but even impoverished scholars like Xu Ying and Liu Ziren were unwilling to step forward and speak on their behalf.

Zhao Han tried to persuade everyone, stressing that human dignity is equal from birth, but still could not win their agreement.

It came down to this—

I acknowledge the theory of equal worth, and I acknowledge the equality of human dignity.

But when it comes to forming a literary society, household slaves have no right to join!

"Brother, sales were excellent today," Fei Chun said jubilantly. "One traveling merchant bought a full hundred copies, and paid in full two taels of pure silver."

Fei Yu grumbled, "The Iron Foot Society and the Boat Society were really stingy. A whole bunch of people chipped in to buy one copy together. Then they'd go back and tell stories to others, charging one copper coin per chapter of the novel, and made back all the money they spent on the book."

"Oh, right," Fei Chun added, "some merchants were asking whether they could pay to place a subscription. They're traders from other regions, only staying in Hekou Town for half a month, and they're afraid of missing the later novel installments."

Zhao Han slapped his thigh, delighted. "That's a fine idea—why didn't I think of it? Go and tell them: anyone who wants a subscription should put down a ten-wen deposit and register right here at the restaurant. From now on, they can pick up their copies directly at the restaurant counter. The restaurant will hold them for three months only; if not collected by then, the subscription is void and the deposit is non-refundable."

"Good, I'll go tell them right now." Fei Chun set off at once.

"I'm going too," Fei Yu called out.

These two page boys were extraordinarily enthusiastic about selling the magazine—especially this issue with "The Theory of Equal Worth"!

They seemed impatient, eager for more people to understand the principle that "human dignity is equal." Even if it couldn't change their present circumstances, so long as everyone acknowledged the equality of human dignity, they were happy from the bottom of their hearts.

Peasants are a progressive force, but peasants are likewise passive in their thinking.

To draw the peasants in, nothing short of natural disaster or man-made calamity will do; once you make a move, it will stir up a huge commotion.

But literate members of the outcast households—those should be the early targets to win over.

Toward evening, as Zhao Han was packing up to return to the academy, Fei Yu suddenly came over with a merchant in tow.

"Brother, there's a gentleman who wishes to see you," Fei Yu called out.

The man wore a cotton-lined pleated robe and a large black hat on his head. He cupped his hands and said, "Lu Yu of Jinling, courtesy name Guangda, admitted to the prefectural school in the thirtieth year of Wanli. I pay my respects to Mr. Zhao!"

"I dare not presume," Zhao Han hurriedly returned the courtesy. "You, sir, are a senior; I can only call myself a junior."

Lu Yu smiled at once. "Then I'll presume upon our slight acquaintance and call you my worthy younger brother—what do you say?"

Zhao Han replied, "Brother Guangda is too polite."

Lu Yu took out a copy of the Goose Lake Ten-Day Journal and flipped directly to the fiction section. "Worthy brother, has this Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero been completed?"

"It's finished," Zhao Han said.

Lu Yu stated his purpose: "I wish to take it back to Jinling for publication. Would my worthy brother be willing to grant me the manuscript? As for the brush-moistening fee, that is easily settled."

"How much?" Zhao Han asked directly.

"How about thirty taels?" Lu Yu offered.

Zhao Han turned his head toward Fei Yu. "Show the guest out."

Fei Yu smiled. "Master Lu, if you please."

Lu Yu held up an open palm. "Fifty taels."

Zhao Han said, "Fifty taels is acceptable—but you only get half the manuscript."

"Too expensive," Lu Yu shook his head.

The Jiangsu-Zhejiang region had a thriving economy, a flourishing literary culture, and a well-developed publishing industry; manuscript fees there were quite high.

But it also depended on the type of work.

For example, manuscripts obtained through special channels to print collections of model examination essays—compilations of the current year's jinshi essays—these exam-preparation materials commanded very high fees.

You had to hire a famous scholar to write a preface for the model-essay collection, at a fee of at least one hundred taels, sometimes two or three hundred, depending on that scholar's standing.

Then you'd hire several talented scholars to annotate and edit the essays, at a fee of at least ten taels per person, plus you had to treat them to a fine meal, and after printing, give each of them a few sample copies.

This kind of exam-preparation material had enormous print runs and no shortage of sales—a guaranteed profit, with handsome manuscript fees.

Fiction, on the other hand, was a different story. No one could predict the outcome; it was pure gambling on luck.

Lu Yu thought highly of the Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero. He considered for a moment and said, "Sixty taels. I want the complete manuscript. How about listing the author as Li Zhuowu?"

Ah, these unscrupulous merchants—Li Zhi has been dead for decades, and they still want to ride on his fame.

Zhao Han smiled. "Forty taels for half. If the sales are decent and you want to publish the whole thing, the remaining half will cost you another hundred taels."

Lu Yu was speechless, and very much disinclined to talk.

That was the market reality: for a model-essay collection, a famous scholar could casually write a preface and pocket one or two hundred taels in fees.

Zhao Han had spent three years of painstaking effort writing the Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero, yet the bookseller deemed it worthy of only a few dozen taels in fees—and this was a bookseller who thought his novel would sell well.

After a round of haggling, they finally settled at one hundred taels, each side feeling they had come out the loser.

Zhao Han received a lump sum of one hundred taels; whatever happened after that was none of his concern. The author's name could be Tom, Dick, or Harry for all he cared.

There was no making a name for oneself with this sort of thing. A scholar who wrote fiction would only invite ridicule.

The Investiture of the Gods had been selling well in recent years, yet no one even knew who wrote it. In fact, it carried no author's name at all, only a note reading "Edited by So-and-So"—and centuries later, people would still be guessing at the true author.

Lu Yu sealed up thirty taels as a deposit and also treated Zhao Han to a meal and drinks.

A free dinner—why turn it down? Zhao Han called Fei Chun and Fei Yu to the table as well.

Amid the toasts and exchanged cups, Zhao Han pointed at the magazine and asked, "This 'Theory of Equal Worth'—what does Brother Guangda make of it?"

Lu Yu sidestepped the topic and smiled. "I concern myself only with making money; I stopped studying scholarly matters long ago."

"Have you come to Yanshan to purchase goods, sir?" Zhao Han asked.

"Buying a few boatloads of paper to take back," Lu Yu replied.

There were many paper-producing regions across the country, including some right around Nanjing. Lu Yu was passing over what was near to seek what was far because Yanshan's paper came in a complete range of types and was considerably cheaper.

In Ming-dynasty trade and transport, if goods could travel the entire way by waterway, the greatest cost was the customs duties—the transit tolls.

But brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and books can be exempted from tolls!

Even if nobles and powerful families set up private checkpoints, they wouldn't dare lay hands on cultural goods — that sort of thing easily stirs public outrage.

Zhao Han tapped the magazine again and said, "Master Li Zhuowu has been dead for decades. I doubt anyone would believe The Legend of the Condor Heroes is his posthumous work. If we print 'On the Theory of Gewei' on the novel's title page, wouldn't that make it far more believable?"

"Exactly!"

Lu Yu caught on at once and said delightedly, "A brilliant method. Come, let me toast you, worthy brother!"

The meal finished, and the two agreed to copy the manuscript the next day.

The manuscript couldn't be taken away by Lu Yu — Zhao Han still needed it himself. He could only hire people to copy it, and collect the remaining payment after the copying was done.

As for copyists, Zhao Han recommended Liu Ziren and Xu Ying, which would also help them earn a little extra on the side.

Zhao Han tossed out a silver ingot, a full two taels, and said to Fei Chun and Fei Yu, "You've been working hard these past days promoting the ten-day periodical. Take this and split it for some wine."

"Many thanks, Brother!"

The two were overjoyed, feeling that following Zhao Han offered even better prospects.

Zhao Han was also very pleased — he had finally struck it rich, and this was a huge sum.

The next day, Lu Yu came to the academy and asked Xu Ying and Liu Ziren to copy the manuscript.

He was in a hurry for the manuscript, so Fei Yu and Fei Chun simply joined in as well — four people copying together would be faster.

At the midday break, Xu Ying and Liu Ziren came together to express their thanks.

Zhao Han laughed and said, "We're all brothers here. When there's a benefit, of course I think of you. No need for so many words."

"Great kindness is not thanked with words; there will be repayment in the future," Liu Ziren said, cupping his hands.

Xu Ying said nothing further. He had grown increasingly withdrawn and silent, keeping everything in his heart and never speaking lightly to invite trouble.

In the mid-Ming, there were still many copyists, but with the spread of movable-type printing, by the late Ming there was very little book-copying business left — remote prefectures and counties being the exception.

Ordinary books could be bought at bookshops, and the prices were cheap.

Truly expensive books had very few people who wanted them, so earning money by copying books for others was purely a matter of luck.

At some point, Fei Yuanjian suddenly appeared and said in a low voice, "Chen Lide has left. I saw his face was full of resentment. I'm afraid he'll go around slandering you everywhere."

"If I dared to propose the theory of gewei, I'm not afraid of slander," Zhao Han said, throwing an arm over Fei Yuanjian's shoulder. "Still, thanks for the warning. How have your studies been lately?"

Fei Yuanjian said, "I'm already studying the core classic. In two years, we'll see if I can sit for the xiucai exam."

"Let us encourage one another," Zhao Han said with a smile.

Now, as for that academy teacher Chen Lide — at the debate he had been utterly humiliated, and he had no face left to keep teaching at Hanzhu Academy.

The fellow collected his wages and immediately bundled up his bedding and left.

He traveled far to Shitang Town, seeking refuge with a classmate from his youth, and obtained a post at the private school of the Zhu family of Shitang.

(End of Chapter)