Wang Wen watched in mournful silence as green leaves drifted across the lotus pond, long since devoid of flowers. It had been two months since the siege of Luoyang had begun and the conflict showed no signs of dying down. The armies Prince of Chengdu, commanded by the premier of the Principality of Pingyuan, Lu Ji, were pressing in on Luoyang. Moreover, Lu Ji was descended from famous generals of Eastern Wu and a young genius himself whose essays were inimitably spectacular. What if Luoyangâs defenses were overcome?
So fretful was he that even the splendorous autumn scenery did not suffice to drown his woes. He stroked his feathered fan, lost in thought. A maidservant quietly crept up to him, âMaster, a messenger from the Liang Estate begs for an audience.â
âOh?â Stirring from his gloom, Wang Wen said, âSee him in then.â
Liang Feng was special; heâd never refuse his messenger no matter how his worries gnawed away at him. Shortly, the messenger entered the pavilion and kneeled, âController Wang, my master has recently created two new texts and sent them to you for your viewing pleasure.â
What viewing pleasure could one find in a book? Curiosity piqued, Wang Wen waved him over, âBring them to me.â
Wang Wen opened the wooden box presented to him, then frowned; there were no scrolls?
There were a few of what looked to be glued-together stacks of letter paper lying within. He picked one up at random and observed that there was a covering of dark, faintly aromatic, letter paper around its exterior. At the top, the words âVajracchedikÄ PrajñÄpÄramitÄ SĆ«traâ were writ neatly in Liang Fengâs uniquely marvelous script, framed inside a rectangle of artistic motifs. Just the attention thatâd gone into the cover alone was breathtaking.
Flipping over the cover revealed a picture â the very âPreaching in the Jetavana-Viharaâ that Liang Feng had commissioned. It wasnât a masterwork by any means, but was elaborately composed and exactingly detailed, especially the buddha in the center, radiating golden light, and the ethereal courtyard behind him. Just looking at it, one could imagine themselves in the far past, seeing Buddhaâs sermon with their own eyes. What was more astonishing was that despite being drawn onto such a small book, not one line was smudged or out of place.
He flipped to the next page, where the main text of the Diamond Sutra began. The inside was comprised of folded sheets of paper, each half being its own page. The design was clever and refined. The painstaking care thatâd gone into the text was visible in the even, straight lines dividing each column of characters and the floral patterns decorating the margin. This book, folded and bound as a codex, was far more compact than a scroll, small enough to be kept on hand at all times.
âSuch conscientiousness, as expected of Zixi. I wonder how much time it took to make such a book?â Wang Wen praised. He turned it over a few times before setting it down and reaching for the next book.
But when he took a closer look, he exclaimed in disbelief, âAnother one?â
There was indeed another book identical to the one heâd just seen. From the title on the cover to the motifs on the page borders to even the artwork, none of it differed by so much as a single line. It was as if a duplicate had appeared out of thin air. After a moment of stupor, Wang Wen realized that it must have been made by way of âprinting.â
Stamps and seals had existed since ancient times; in the current era, carving unofficial seals was a hobby suitable for genteel scholars. He knew, of course, what stamped insignias looked like, he just hadnât imagined that even entire books could be reproduced using stamps. How inspired! What a stroke of genius! Wang Wen excitedly flipped through three indistinguishable scriptures, then eagerly removed the last text. It wasnât as elaborate as the Diamond Sutra, and it wasnât made of Scripture Paper either but rather of ordinary hemp paper. It looked like several sheets of paper glued end-to-end, then folded like an accordion. It was titled âThe New Treatise on Cold Damage.â
Wang Wen took a brief glance at the contents and asked, âIs this the posthumous work of Physician Jiang?â
Weâre sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so weâre going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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He skimmed it over and sighed, âThese were created great expense, I presume? Your master is truly thoughtful. Bailu, lead him aside. After I have written my letter, let him deliver it to the Liang Estate as well.â
Aside from the letter, Wang Wen would send him quality medicines and rare curios; it was only right that he should thank Zixi for his consideration.
At the same time, there was another person whoâd received a copy of the new texts.
In his meditation room, a lengthy silence reigned as the old monk slowly turned the pages of the two identical copies of the Diamond Sutra lying before him. Nianfa, attending by his side, had cottoned on already. He couldnât help but ask, âMaster, it seems this scripture was printed out with stamps. Why would Liang Zixi waste such time and effort?â
âWaste such time and effort?â The old monk trailed his fingers across the image of Buddha as he asked, âHow much contribution do we receive for scribing a single scripture?â
âFor a scroll like the Diamond Sutra, about half a stone of rice and twenty thousand coins?â Nianfa answered. A large portion of the templeâs earnings came from transcribing sutras for devout worshippers who believed them to contain holy powers. Scriptures like those didnât come cheap of course.
âIf the bodhisattva were to print such fine scriptures, would you continue to seek them from the temple?â The old monk questioned impassively.
Nianfa immediately guessed his meaning, then recoiled in shock, âHe intends to sell scriptures?!â
âIf this book were to cost only two or three stones of rice, people would scramble madly to buy it.â
During the fall harvest season, twenty thousand coins was only worth twenty stones of rice. The monksâ humble hand-copied scriptures were certainly less desirable than these elegant printed books.
Nianfa blurted, âBut how could he!â
But the moment those words left his mouth, he snapped it shut. Of course he could! Liang Feng was the original source of the Diamond Sutra after all. Who had any right to criticize him for selling it? This merit and karma was for Liang Feng alone to enjoy. But what if he printed other scriptures? It would be a heavy loss for the temple in the long run!
âThe temple must gather craftsmen and print scriptures!â Nianfa instantly said.
Only printing could beat printing in terms of speed. If the temple had craftsmen and intricate printing blocks, they could certainly beat Liang Feng at his own game!
Yet the old monk shook his head, âHe can, you cannot.â
Nianfa wasnât stupid; it only took him a moment to realize what his master meant. Liang Feng was hailed as a bodhisattva; he could print anything without being seen as impious. On the contrary, the faithful believed that they could obtain Buddhaâs protection by buying goods from his estate. It was obvious from how Scripture Paper was now a priceless commodity in Jinyang.
But the temple was different. Only their handwritten copies had any value to their followers, for only the scriptures written by hand had holy powers. If they printed it⊠were they supposed to boast that they had personally blessed those scriptures?
It was their innate disadvantage. There was no way to get around it.
âSo heâll reap all the benefits of copying scripture then?â Nianfa muttered indignantly. He couldnât just let it go â this matter had severe implications for the templeâs future.
After some ponderance, the old monk said, âMake a trip to the Liang Estate. Bring the âSutra in Forty-Two Sectionsâ and the âUllambana Sutraâ with you. Ask Benefactor Liang to print them on our behalf. In return, the temple is willing to exchange one hundred fifty stone of grain for fifty copies of each scripture.â
At the moment, those were the templeâs two most sought-after sutras. Their combined word count was less than the Diamond Sutraâs. But even so, a hundred fifty stone of grain was slightly insufficient
Nianfa asked dubiously, âWould Liang Zixi be willing?â
The old monk chuckled, âItâs up to Benefactor Liang.â
â»
To Liang Fengâs surprise, his gift of books had summoned a monk. When the monk said he wanted to print books here, a hundred fifty stone of grain for fifty of each of the two sutras, and that they had brought fifty stone of grain as advance payment, Liang Feng nearly laughed out loud.
So theyâd come to talk business about buying made-to-order products in bulk!
Liang Feng pasted a polite smile on his face and said, âIf your abbot so wishes to revitalize Buddhism, how could I refuse? Although, there isnât an upper limit on how many books can be printed, once the blocks are carved. What if there were extras?â
Nianfa responded pleasantly, âMy temple is willing to collect the extra scriptures for five stones of grain.â
So after the first fifty, they would pay a higher flat price for each copy? It was much lower than its estimated going rate; plus, Huaiâen Temple would become a retailer of the Liang Estateâs scriptures, successfully mitigating the impact of printed books on the market for hand-scribed books. These monks sure had a head for business.
But it wasnât like there wasnât anything in it for Liang Feng. Itâd taken over twenty days to complete the printing blocks for the Diamond Sutra, and over ten stones of grain to support the bookworksâ craftsmen for a month. The two sutras, added together, were shorter than the Diamond Sutra, so itâd take even less time to carve blocks for them. After deducting the costs of ink and paper, heâd still be making a profit â not to mention that they would pay a higher unit price for each additional copy. The income from this arrangement alone, if it could be maintained, was enough to feed everyone in the bookworks.
And the monks, of course, werenât going to sell those scriptures at a loss. In a roundabout way, it could preserve the value of their main product, the Diamond Sutra. This time of year, the price of grain was at its lowest; how could Liang Feng miss the opportunity to promote his reputation and sell things fast?
âI would be ashamed to such generosity,â Liang Feng smiled, âHow about this, Iâll gift your honorable temple with fifty copies of âThe New Treatise on Cold Damageâ to distribute as you please. It will bring the merit that Huaiâen Temple earned from saving lives full circle.â
Nianfa felt a brief flash of self-reproach at Liang Fengâs magnanimity. It seems heâd judged a nobleâs heart by a little mansâ measure. He said respectfully, âI must admit, you harbor greater benevolence towards the common people than I, Benefactor Liang.â
The two smiled outwardly, while they both served their own purposes, as they finalized the deal. With their helpful partner in crime, news of the printed Diamond Sutra flew as though itâd grown wings. With Wang Wenâs enthusiastic endorsement and the Huaiâen Templeâs emphatic recommendation, those nobles who hadnât the chance to buy Scripture Paper instantly took an interest in the Liang Estateâs latest product. The final price was set at twenty stone of grain per book, including the wooden box it came in and a volume of âThe New Treatise on Cold Damage.â
No one had expected the price to be so low. Twenty stone was nothing to the upper strata, of course, but it wasnât a large sum to the local wealthy or lesser gentry either. Thus, the Diamond Sutra had sold over sixty copies in a mere week. Even Guo Jiao had âcheaplyâ bought tens of copies at Liang Fengâs âfriendly discountâ price of ten stone each. Several trips to Jinyang with the Liang Estate and a hefty profit later, Guo Jiao was so overjoyed he ordered his subordinates to take the scriptures east along the Taihang Mountains and sell them in Si Province.
The powerful families tended to converge in Si Province, where even armed conflict couldnât affect their lavish lifestyles. And besides, the erudite scholars were more interested in elegant, sophisticated scripture than in the war beneath their noses. And so, the name of Liang Feng, Liang Zixi, spread wide in the novel scriptureâs wake.
The author has something to say:
Cough cough, The âSutra in Forty-two Sectionsâ really did exist. It was translated during the Eastern Han Dynasty. The text was extremely short, probably only two thousand characters long in total. Donât lose suspension of disbelief everyone XDDD
And I also saw a lot of readers bring up movable type printing. Eh, maybe the previous authorâs note misled everyone. Printing with moveable type isnât suitable for this time, the production cost is too high, and the needed to use them is too high. Itâs actually not as cost-effective as carved block printing. In reality, moveable type printing never really caught on in ancient China. After all, Chinese doesnât have a 26 character alphabet, and there wasnât a âmost used 3000 charactersâ or anything for traditional Chinese characters. The character formation and typesetting is too difficult, itâs cheaper to just use more human labor. With how poor young Liang is, of course heâs going to do things cheap XD