“How many copies would you like to order?”
Yue Dongqun: “One hundred thousand copies of The Tale of the Qinniang, and fifty thousand copies of The Cry for Justice.”
Manager Lou gave a slight nod—it was the same quantity the Lin family had wanted to order before.
“We’re old friends, so I’ll give you the lowest price I can: one guan and four qian per book. Delivery in Songzhou City in twenty-five days.”
Yue Dongqun had checked the bookstore’s wholesale prices before coming, and he knew that one guan and four qian was already rock bottom, so he accepted without haggling.
“No problem, but the timeline has to be solid—I must set out next month.”
Manager Lou smiled and nodded.
“Absolutely no problem. Sales have been brisk these past few days, so I’ve already sent word back to Suining City to increase the print run. I was originally planning to go to Jiangnan myself, but then you showed up.”
Yue Dongqun raised his teacup in a toast.
“Better to come early than to come late—saves you the trouble of traveling all the way to Jiangnan.”
“I can see you’ve got more spring in your step ever since the bookstore changed owners.”
Manager Lou took a hearty gulp of tea, full of confidence.
“The new owner is young and doesn’t put on airs, so most of the day-to-day running is still in my hands.”
“More importantly, with County Princess Linghui and Prefect Song backing us, we’ve got the clout—no one dares to bully us.”
The two members of the Lin family left Songzhou City early the next morning, as if a tiger were snapping at their heels.
When the servant rushed from Songzhou City to Suining City and delivered the news that another one hundred thousand copies needed to be printed, Song Anhao stood frozen in place for a long while.
“Excluding travel time, we sold out ten thousand copies in just a few days?”
The servant, face glowing with excitement and sweat still dripping, replied:
“Manager Lou said that if we can’t find out-of-town booksellers to partner with, we’ll just haul the books to Jiangnan and sell them ourselves.”
He then told Song Anhao about how the Lin family had tried to force the price down and then threatened to sell pirated copies.
“Luckily, Manager Lou invoked County Princess Linghui and Prefect Song to put them in their place—otherwise, with pirated books flooding the market, we’d have lost a fortune.”
Song Anhao, only eight years old and at the height of his idealism, flew into a rage at the thought of someone copying his books and selling pirated editions.
He immediately ran back to find his elder sister Song Jinzhao and tattle.
“Big sister~ We’ve barely started selling and already someone wants to copy us. I’m going to lose so much money. Can you give the Lin family a warning?”
Song Jinzhao paused her hand as she flipped through the ledger. “Didn’t Manager Lou already warn them?”
“The world is big, and there are so many people—no matter how you manage it, you can’t stop everyone from selling pirated books.”
“What you need to do right now is race against time: keep the printing presses running, get the books out to every corner of the country as fast as you can, and once everyone has a copy, who’s going to buy a pirated one?”
Song Anhao grumbled, “I just can’t stand the injustice.”
Song Jinzhao said: “A mouse gnawing on a rice sack—you can’t guard against everything. Don’t let a little thing ruin a big plan.”
“Your little bookshop isn’t that big—isn’t it time to hire more people? What happens when Manager Lou isn’t around? Can you handle it?”
Song Anhao’s voice came out muffled.
“There’s a deputy manager. I’ve already told him to start hiring.”
Song Jinzhao raised an eyebrow at him. “A single book takes only a few days to read. If you want to keep making money, you need new books.”
At that, his eyelids lifted, and his hazy eyes gradually sharpened.
A glint flashed in his gaze, and Song Anhao shot up from his chair, spun around, and bolted out the door.
“I’ve got it—I’m going to find Liu Ruoxi right now.”
Seeing Song Anhao run off, Qingshang stepped up to the table and asked in a low voice:
“County Princess, the bookstore’s profits are only going to grow. Should we assign someone to keep an eye on things?”
“The young master is only eight after all—it wouldn’t do for someone to take advantage of him.”
Song Jinzhao tapped her finger on the table, lost in thought. Yao Ying was in charge of protection, but the other aspects were inevitably weaker.
After a moment’s consideration, she gave her orders.
“Pick a sharp, clever girl who’s good with numbers and send her to Anhao’s side. Preferably someone a bit older, who can keep the two managers in line.”
Qingshuang said respectfully, “I think we could pick a reserve shopkeeper from one of our stores—they see all kinds of people and handle matters smoothly. That would fill the gap by the young master’s side nicely.”
Song Jinzhao nodded in approval.
“That’s the way. Pick a few candidates and let Anhao choose.”
