The Xue family bookbindery was located on the second street from the outer city to the inner city. Beyond that, all the houses were standalone structures with rice paddies in front.
The narrow, double-leaf wooden door was flanked by two elm trees that blocked all the light from the courtyard. At first glance, the place looked not only cluttered but also damp.
Knowing that a new owner was coming, the bookbindery manager had brought the workers out early to wait at the entrance.
The Gu family had sold off all their shops and land in Suining City over the years, bit by bit. Now, only the bookstore and the bookbindery remained open.
Songzhou City was two hundred li away, and the Gu family rarely paid it any mind. The business had been losing money year after year, and their own circumstances were hardly prosperous.
With a sudden change of ownership, everyone was panicked, afraid of losing their jobs.
Song Jinzhao’s gaze was drawn to the worn tiles on the eaves.
A quick look showed several of them chipped and cracked—clearly old and posing a safety hazard.
Stepping through the cluttered yard into the workshop, a cloud of dust mixed with the smell of ink and paper rushed toward her face.
Song Jinzhao immediately held her breath. On a ten-meter-long worktable lay carved wooden printing blocks, the ink on the brushes still wet.
The manager nervously stole glances at Song Jinzhao, trying to read every expression on her face, wondering if she was pleased or displeased.
Though the official deed listed Song Anhao as the owner, he was so young that everyone assumed the real decision-maker was Song Jinzhao.
She stopped beside the worktable. One of the printing blocks was carved with The Three Character Classic.
A single block was divided into a dozen small grids, each grid representing one page.
Ink was evenly brushed onto the raised characters, a sheet of paper was laid over it, and a clean brush was gently pressed across the surface. The text was thus transferred to the paper. After drying, the sheets were cut and bound into books. That was the entire printing process of the bindery.
The manager gestured. “This is the Three Character Classic printing room. Further inside, we have The Hundred Family Surnames, The Analects, and The Book of Songs.”
Crossing the threshold led to another identical printing room, the only difference being the carved blocks on the tables.
Song Anhao’s eyes were bright with joy as he ran about the printing rooms, as if this was his own conquered kingdom.
“The second half of The Cry for Justice will be finished in five days. We need to start making the printing blocks as soon as possible.”
“Manager Lou, does the bookstore have any skilled block carvers we can hire?”
Song Jinzhao watched quietly.
The manager hesitated, glancing at her first, then turned to Song Anhao when she remained silent.
“We did, but that was more than a decade ago.”
“The bookstore hasn’t replaced the blocks in a long time. Most of the skilled carvers have gone to Songzhou City. The few ordinary ones who stayed have switched trades.”
Song Anhao bit his lip, his brows furrowing. “Can we still find anyone?”
The manager thought for a moment. “We can find people, but I’m worried that after so long without practice, their carving won’t be good. It would be best to hire carvers from Songzhou City.”
The book would be finished in a few days, and proofreading would take some time, so there was still room.
Song Anhao said, “Then go to Songzhou City and hire them. Bring them here to carve.”
The manager asked further, “How many characters does this manuscript have? How many carvers should we hire?”
“More than a hundred thousand characters. Hire several carvers—I want it done quickly.”
Printing earlier meant selling earlier; every extra day of waiting was a cost.
The manager explained slowly, “A skilled carver can carve about a hundred characters a day. Their wages range from seven to ten coins per day, and we also have to cover their room, board, and travel expenses.”
He lowered his head, his voice dropping to barely a whisper.
“And then there’s the cost of the wood. Sending someone to Songzhou also costs travel money. Right now, there’s not a single coin in the accounts. We need an advance.”
The workers certainly couldn’t front the money themselves, and the manager dared not. They still had no trust in the new owners.
Thinking of his own empty savings, Song Anhao couldn’t help but glance at Song Jinzhao.
Song Jinzhao raised an eyebrow.
Song Anhao understood at once.
He immediately instructed the manager, “Calculate the total amount needed and submit a written request. If anything comes up, you can find me at the government office at any time.”
