Chapter 82: The Newspaper

After gaining a rough understanding, Zhu Cilang told Shi Zhidong: "From now on, focus on developing movable type—this way, efficiency will be even better."

Shi Zhidong felt deeply frustrated inside. Faster efficiency? Your Highness, are you joking with me? I already have ready-made engraved blocks here—whatever I want to print, I can print with a single clack. With movable type, I'd have to slowly arrange the characters one by one. How could that possibly be more efficient?

Shi Zhidong naturally dared not openly contradict the Crown Prince, so he only asked respectfully: "May I ask what scriptures Your Highness needs printed?"

Zhu Cilang said with a smile: "I need no scriptures—what I'm printing is a newspaper!"

Shi Zhidong's head instantly swelled a size larger, and he said in confusion: "May I ask Your Highness, what is a newspaper?"

"A newspaper is an enhanced version of the Capital Gazette." Zhu Cilang could only explain it that way.

At the mention of the Capital Gazette, Shi Zhidong understood this time—both were men within the system, so naturally he knew what the Capital Gazette was.

The Capital Gazette, also called the Capital Transcript, and known by such pet names as "Court Gazette," "Itemized Gazette," and "Miscellaneous Gazette," was the world's earliest newspaper, specifically used by the imperial court to circulate documents announcing court affairs and news digests of political intelligence.

Some believe the earliest newspaper was the Acta Diurna, founded by Julius Caesar of the Roman Empire in 59 BC. What Caesar created was actually an official bulletin for transmitting urgent military intelligence, but this newspaper did not last long and ceased publication shortly thereafter.

In terms of founding dates, our country's Capital Gazette appeared in the early Western Han dynasty, around the second century BC—roughly a century earlier than the Roman Empire's Acta Diurna.

From the Han, Tang, Song, Yuan, and Ming dynasties down to the Qing dynasty, although the name of the Capital Gazette changed repeatedly, its publication never once ceased, and neither its nature nor its content changed much.

Shi Zhidong said doubtfully: "Your Highness, the Capital Gazette is handwritten and copied by hand—it is not a printed item."

Zhu Cilang felt this man was rather decent, not some good-for-nothing who muddled through life eating and sleeping, so he patiently explained: "The newspaper I'm running targets not government offices but the common people, so it requires large-scale printing. Now do you understand why movable type printing is more efficient?"

If Shi Zhidong had failed to understand, Zhu Cilang would not have wasted another word on him.

Hearing this, Shi Zhidong finally had a sudden realization and said: "Your Highness is wise. Your subordinate understands now. I have actually calculated before—if one is printing this kind of non-fixed text on a large scale, movable type is naturally the best choice, and the larger the print run, the cheaper the cost."

"Quite perceptive—a man who gets things done!" Zhu Cilang nodded inwardly.

After a pause, Shi Zhidong seemed to recall something and added: "Your Highness, with this large volume of printing, the cost of ink will increase greatly, yet the annual allocation the Ministry of Revenue gives to the Han Scripture Factory is extremely small."

Zhu Cilang smiled and said: "You naturally need not worry about funding—I will allocate funds on schedule. I also have other tasks to entrust to you."

Hearing that the Crown Prince was about to assign him duties, Shi Zhidong was overjoyed and hurriedly said: "Your subordinate is willing to serve Your Highness!"

Zhu Cilang said meaningfully: "I've heard your literary skills are quite good—being a Sixth-Rank Registrar is somewhat beneath your talents. I intend to make you an editor-in-chief. If you perform well, I will personally recommend you into the Hanlin Academy."

"Enter the Hanlin Academy?" Shi Zhidong opened his mouth, his heart pounding wildly. Being "recommended to the Hanlin" and entering the Hanlin Academy was an extremely glorious honor.

In every dynasty and era, regardless of political standing, Hanlin academicians were always the highest-status literati group in society, concentrating the elite of the era's intellectuals and enjoying superior social standing.

From the imperial examinations to the Hanlin, and from the Hanlin to court minister—this was the life ideal of scholar-officials in the examination era, an expression of the Confucian doctrine of "when successful, benefit the whole world," something that made all literati flock toward it.

Hanlin academicians not only devoted themselves to the inheritance of cultural and academic endeavors, but also actively participated in politics and debated court affairs. In the Great Ming, Grand Secretariat ministers had to be of Hanlin background.

After a burst of wild joy, Shi Zhidong immediately came back to his senses and said hesitantly: "Your Highness, your subordinate has heard that to enter the Hanlin Academy one must be of jinshi background."

Zhu Cilang looked at this Sixth-Rank minor registrar with some surprise—he had actually not been fooled by his smooth talk. It seemed this man had strong self-composure!

Zhu Cilang smiled and said: "Rest assured. Our dynasty's Hanlin is a place for nurturing talent and storing promise, responsible for compiling books and writing histories, drafting imperial edicts, and serving as readers to imperial family members. For me to recommend you into the Hanlin to serve as a reader in the Eastern Palace does not exceed the regulations."

Hearing the Crown Prince personally make this promise, Shi Zhidong was beside himself with joy and hastily knelt to express his gratitude.

Subsequently, Zhu Cilang arranged a series of tasks for Shi Zhidong, requiring him to establish an editorial department, recruit some literati skilled with pen and ink, and write articles daily according to the themes he set. The newspaper to be published would be called the Imperial Ming Times.

That very day, Zhu Cilang allocated two thousand taels of silver from his own private coffers for printing expenses. Two thousand taels of silver—as long as the Han Scripture Factory didn't embezzle, it would be enough to cover the factory's expenses for an entire year.

As the imperial printing factory, the Han Scripture Factory possessed several complete sets of copper movable-type molds, so there was no need to cast new ones at all. As long as there were manuscripts, typesetting could begin printing immediately.

In just one day, all the manuscript templates could be arranged. Adding in the time for writing, collecting, pressing, and completing the papers, producing one issue of the newspaper would take only five or six days.

Zhu Cilang required him to produce the first issue within seven days, printing five thousand copies initially.

Before leaving, Shi Zhidong slapped his chest with resounding thuds and assured Zhu Cilang that he could print the first issue in just four days!

After hearing his own promise, Shi Zhidong was now as energized as if injected with chicken blood, wishing he could complete the task in a single day—though he also knew that writing the manuscripts would take considerable time.

Zhu Cilang nodded. If the man wanted to show off, let him show off—after all, if Shi Zhidong turned out to be a fraud who couldn't do the job well, Zhu Cilang had plenty of other people.

Right now, what the Great Ming lacked least was juren and xiucai and the like. The cultured men in the Imperial Academy were so numerous as to be ridiculous. In the Great Ming, the Northern and Southern Academies together had over ten thousand students—swing a stick in the Imperial Academy and you'd knock over a hundred or more idle cultured men.

In these years, there were far too many starving intellectuals. If there was a job matching their expertise, and one that made them retainers of the Crown Prince to boot, they would surely trample the threshold down trying to squeeze in.

After Zhu Cilang left the Han Scripture Factory, Shi Zhidong immediately got to work, gathering all the craftsmen in the factory together and delivering an extremely important, blood-stirring speech.

Before concluding his speech, Shi Zhidong solemnly announced: all craftsmen would have their monthly wages increased by one tael of silver, and those who performed conscientiously, printed with good quality, and produced large quantities would receive bonuses—generous rewards!

It had to be said, this Shi Zhidong was a talent with considerable managerial ability—truly worthy of being a veteran cadre with over twenty years of service!

The craftsmen were usually idle with nothing to do and their wages were low. If increasing their workload meant things stayed the same as before, who would be willing to work? Only pay raises could ignite passion—only effort could bring reward!