In the evening, Zhao Jinmin and his wife were invited to dine in the back courtyard of the government office, and Li Zhidao accompanied them as well.
Seeing Song Jinzhao standing beneath the eaves, Zhao Jinmin couldn’t help but pause.
She stood like a solitary figure detached from the world, her gaze calm yet exuding a cool aloofness, as if nothing in this mortal realm was worth her time—a presence that inspired awe.
Madam Wang noticed he had stopped and nudged his arm gently, asking in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”
Zhao Jinmin shook his head quickly but subtly. “Nothing. Just suddenly felt a bit nervous.”
Following her husband’s gaze, Madam Wang’s heart tightened.
That was the County Princess Linghui, personally enfeoffed by the emperor.
At that very moment, Song Jinzhao turned her head and looked in their direction. Her gaze met Madam Wang’s, and a faint smile curled at the corners of her mouth.
Zhao Jinmin and Li Zhidao: “Your humble officials, Zhao Jinmin and Li Zhidao, pay respects to the County Princess.”
Madam Wang curtsied. “May the County Princess Linghui be at peace.”
Song Jinzhao extended her hand. “No need for formalities.”
At the dinner table, Song Anhao ate while quietly observing.
Sitting at a table with strangers, he felt a bit restrained.
Amid the clinking of glasses, Li Zhidao casually inquired, “Recently, the County Princess has been sending people to purchase coal mines on a large scale in the southwestern region. May I ask what purpose this serves?”
Song Qiming replied, “The vegetation around Suining City is relatively sparse, with little firewood. The coal is for burning to make cement.”
Li Zhidao’s eyes lit up with understanding, and the worry that had been weighing on his chest instantly dissipated.
His brows curved into a smile, revealing six teeth. “So that’s it. With so much coal, you’ll certainly be able to produce plenty of cement.”
“This trip has truly opened my eyes. When I return and report to the Provincial Administrator, perhaps Songzhou City will also want to buy cement.”
Song Jinzhao curled her lips. “Once production ramps up, we’ll sell it externally. If you want any, just have Lord Gu send a letter.”
Freebies were out of the question. After the eight main streets were finished next year, anyone else wanting cement would have to pay for it.
Zhao Jinmin left Suining City the next morning. No sooner had he departed than Li Zhidao rushed back to Songzhou City at full speed on horseback.
…
After ten thousand copies of The Cry for Justice were printed, Song Anhao’s heart felt like it had sprouted wings, beating with anticipation.
He was both excited and nervous, dreaming of the book becoming a bestseller, with lines of customers clamoring to buy it and prompting another print run.
But reality dealt him a heavy blow.
From excitement to numbness, then to doubt, and finally to squatting on the ground in silence—it took only three days.
He couldn’t figure it out. The book was clearly good, so why was no one buying it?
Watching the eight-year-old Young Master, the bookshop owner’s heart softened involuntarily.
He spoke gently to console him. “Liu Ziyuan is a newcomer without a reputation. Good books take time to spread. Once feedback circulates over a few days, sales will naturally pick up.”
Song Anhao looked up. “Really? But only twenty-three copies have been sold so far.”
The bookshop owner coughed out a laugh. “There aren’t many scholars in Suining City to begin with. Why not ship some to Songzhou City to sell?”
Song Anhao pressed his lips together without a word. He had considered selling elsewhere, but only after the book had passed the test of Suining City’s locals.
Now, with such poor results, he had no confidence.
Song Anhao trudged home with a heavy heart, hoping to find Song Jinzhao. But when he realized she wasn’t around, his spirits sank even further.
The brick kiln had been repurposed by Song Jinzhao to burn smokeless coal.
Staring at the whitened coal briquettes in the furnace, Song Jinzhao turned to Qingshuang and said, “Tomorrow the cement factory will start recruiting workers. Based on the output I mentioned, calculate how many more people we need. Discuss it with Lanxi and handle the hiring together.”
Qingshuang pulled a piece of paper from her bosom and handed it over.
“I’ve already calculated. I plan to hire five hundred people first.”
Song Jinzhao glanced at the paper.
“If there’s a crowd of applicants, add another two hundred. Have them work day and night shifts in rotation. Doubling the output will ensure we don’t struggle to sell in winter.”
Qingshuang: “Understood.”
