Chapter Seventy-Seven: Knowledge Is Wealth (Double Chapter Combined)

Hearing the academic supervisor suddenly mention his second brother, Zhang Yue was taken aback and asked, "You have served in the county academy for many years. In your eyes, what kind of person is my second brother?"

The academic supervisor smiled slightly, recalling the rumors that Zhang Erlang never sent letters home, which had put him in an awkward position before the county magistrate. Yet, Zhang Yue’s abrupt question did not trouble him, and he replied, "When Erlang entered the county academy, I was still an assistant here. Erlang possessed extraordinary talent, the likes of which I’ve rarely seen in my life. As for other matters, I will not comment much. Every step of his scholarly achievement was earned through his own efforts."

Then the academic supervisor shifted the topic: "In life, virtue must come first, ability second. I have seen many who, relying on wit, tried shortcuts yet ended up straying further. No matter how talented, one must cherish the bonds of brotherhood."

Zhang Yue could not quite grasp his meaning, feeling as if he were both expressing admiration and implicitly criticizing Zhang Erlang. He still did not know why his second brother had resigned from the post of jinshi. If he truly wished to change his status and had attained success, he would not have abandoned office.

He had heard that the sudden change in his brother’s registration for the examination had caused resentment among many candidates, but believed such controversies would soon fade and wouldn’t be reason enough to quit. It was also said his brother ranked twenty-second in the provincial exam, but only made it to the fourth tier in the palace exam.

The jinshi rankings were divided into five tiers; the fifth tier was for those who could not be directly appointed and had to wait for selection—Su Zhe, for example, belonged to the fifth tier. His elder brother, Su Shi, was listed in the fourth tier, though originally in the fifth; he was elevated because he took first place in the Spring and Autumn Classic during the provincial exam.

But to go from twenty-second in the provincial exam to fourth tier in the palace exam perhaps reflected the government’s opinion. Maybe the disparity was too great, and so his second brother was unwilling to accept a post.

As Zhang Yue walked and pondered, he tried to recall any interaction with his second brother before his crossing. Suddenly, he remembered an incident a year before his brother’s escape from marriage, when his brother had rebuked him for idleness, spending his days with frivolous companions.

At that moment, a realization dawned on Zhang Yue: his brother’s silence, his refusal to send letters home, perhaps was his method to make Zhang Yue understand he should not always rely on others, but must stand on his own. His second brother truly cared for him, and his efforts were painstaking indeed!

Zhang Yue chuckled; he knew he was prone to idealizing his brother, just as their elder brother made excuses for Erlang’s lack of correspondence. After all, his brother was a famous iron-willed minister; if he thought Zhang Yue was still the useless man he once was, he would surely sever ties without hesitation.

Now, Zhang Yue knew he must strive to earn his brother’s approval, or else how could he enjoy future prosperity? He corrected himself, thinking it wasn’t about pursuing glory, but about fulfilling the duty of brotherly respect.

With this, Zhang Yue felt he had taken the first step to 'rectify his heart.'

Returning to his quarters, Zhang Yue sat down to read, but found Guo Lin had already returned, his face alight with joy. Zhang Yue looked him up and down and asked, "What’s the happy news? Did Third Lady agree to elope with you?"

"Don’t tease me, junior brother," Guo Lin replied.

Seeing that Wu Rang and Qian Qiming were absent, Guo Lin said, "I have something good to tell you, but don’t be too excited."

"Good news?" Zhang Yue was skeptical.

Guo Lin grinned and explained, "I just asked the dormitory head whether there are any copyist jobs in the academy. He said the transcription office is under his charge, and as long as we let him know, we can do it. So I’ve already submitted our names."

"So easy?" Zhang Yue thought, if this job were so popular, it wouldn’t have fallen to two newcomers.

Guo Lin continued, "But each page only pays one coin, and there isn’t much work day-to-day."

Zhang Yue understood why it was difficult to recruit people.

The county records stated the academy had eighty acres of land and another one hundred and seven acres in smaller plots. The government also granted dozens of rooms, which were rented out for income. These rents were the academy’s main revenue.

But expenses were high: salaries for officials and clerks, plus food and clothing for a third of the students, known as the state’s support for scholars, and miscellaneous costs. If the academy could balance its books, it was already commendable; sometimes, deficits had to be covered by public funds and surcharges.

Thus, transcription work, meant as a means for students to earn and learn, was hardly lucrative—a page for a coin was beneath Zhang Yue’s notice now.

But Guo Lin was delighted to have such a job, repeatedly asking if Zhang Yue would join him, and had already spoken to the dormitory head.

Zhang Yue did not wish to dampen Guo Lin’s enthusiasm and, considering the value of hard work, agreed.

"Then let’s go see the dormitory head this afternoon."

"Should we go empty-handed?" Zhang Yue asked.

"What else?" Guo Lin was puzzled.

Zhang Yue shook his head. "I’ll step out for a moment."

That afternoon, Zhang Yue and Guo Lin brought a basket of sesame cakes to the dormitory head's quarters.

"It’s long overdue that we pay our respects. These pastries are a token of appreciation," Zhang Yue said.

The dormitory head smiled; arranging copyist work was effortless for him, and the cakes cost little, but he appreciated the gesture.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"I have," Guo Lin replied quickly.

"Not yet," said Zhang Yue.

"Then don’t be shy, sit and eat with us." The dormitory head handed out the cakes to those present, keeping one each for himself and Zhang Yue. Guo Lin tried to refuse, but the dormitory head insisted.

He propped up one foot, the other idly tapping his shoe, and, munching on the cake, asked, "Are you the third son of the Zhang family?"

Zhang Yue nodded.

The dormitory head said, "I know your second brother—he is exceptionally learned. You may not match his talent, but you are a good fellow!"

Zhang Yue tensed inwardly. "You flatter me, and I hope you’ll look after me in the future."

The dormitory head finished his cake, clapping his hands and scattering sesame seeds on the floor, unconcerned. "No need for formalities, but next time, bring flower cakes—we prefer those."

As Zhang Yue and Guo Lin turned to leave, the dormitory head called out, "Wait! I’ll go with you."

The transcription office was beside the library. The three entered to find two men already inside, one carving characters into wood blocks with a knife, the other arranging molds. Seeing Zhang Yue and Guo Lin in their scholar’s robes, and the dormitory head behind them, they stood and greeted him.

"Shouldn’t you introduce yourselves?" the dormitory head said.

"Greetings, gentlemen. I am Chen Zhong, a book carver for the academy," one replied.

Zhang Yue approached and asked, "You’re a book carver? Is this movable type printing?"

It was a novelty—legendary Song Dynasty movable type, seen for the first time.

Chen Zhong was puzzled by Zhang Yue’s curiosity. "Sir, what do you mean by movable type?"

"What is this then?" Zhang Yue asked.

Chen Zhong laughed. "In Jianyang, we call this 'movable plates,' different from the usual block printing. I’m merely experimenting in my spare time."

"How is it working out?" Zhang Yue asked, intrigued.

Chen Zhong shook his head, looking bitter. "It’s difficult. I heard Hangzhou’s bookshops use clay for movable type—so mysterious—but I don’t know how the clay is fired. So I tried wood, but…"

He trailed off, shaking his head again.

Zhang Yue smiled. "It’s because wooden type doesn’t print well, right?"

"You’re correct, sir. Do you know about movable type?"

The dormitory head was surprised. "Indeed, do you know about block printing?"

Zhang Yue smiled. "I know a little."

He asked, "Are you two brothers?"

"We are," they replied.

"We’re here for the transcription job and will be bothering you often."

"Too polite, sir," they said, bowing.

The dormitory head wasn’t sure what Zhang Yue was up to.

Zhang Yue continued, "You’re using wood for movable type, but wood grain is uneven; when exposed to moisture, it becomes irregular, and ink sticks unevenly. I’ve heard that the craftsman Bi Sheng in Hangzhou started with wood but switched to clay."

The two craftsmen were deeply impressed. "So that’s it! If only we’d heard your advice earlier, we wouldn’t have wasted so much effort on wooden type."

But Zhang Yue smiled, "Not necessarily. I don’t know Hangzhou’s clay type, but clay is brittle and absorbs moisture easily. Without special treatment, it’s hard to preserve."

"Wise words, wise words," the brothers were full of admiration.

The dormitory head looked at Zhang Yue with newfound respect.

"Didn’t they just say they were idle? Doesn’t the academy print books?" Zhang Yue asked.

The dormitory head sighed, "To be honest, only these two do the block carving. It takes a long time to carve a scroll, so most printing is done in Jianyang."

"I’ve heard Jianyang has hundreds of carving workshops, official and private, ranging from hundreds to a few people. Is that so?" Zhang Yue asked.

The craftsmen nodded. "Yes, Jianyang’s official editions are as famous as those from Sichuan and Zhejiang. We’re both from Jianyang, from families of book carvers. The dormitory head hired us to work here in Pucheng."

"So the academy’s print shop is yours?" Zhang Yue asked the dormitory head.

He nodded. "The academy’s workshop runs at a loss, so I bid for it from the government. Still at a loss, but at least I get this scholar’s robe."

Zhang Yue realized the dormitory head had used this as his means to enter the academy.

The Song Dynasty often used public bidding: when the government couldn’t manage an enterprise, it leased it out. The private party promised certain years and profits, then ran it themselves.

"If I want you to print a book, how do I arrange it?" Zhang Yue asked.

The dormitory head said nothing; Chen Zhong replied, "We’re idle most days, so we’d welcome some work. If you want, a plate costs one hundred coins. Will you supply the wood and ink, or should we?"

Zhang Yue didn’t answer immediately.

The dormitory head added, "If you find it expensive, eighty coins is fine. They’re idle anyway, and haven’t had a job for months."

Zhang Yue nodded. "Dormitory head, gentlemen, if you want to make wooden movable type, don’t use sour jujube or pear wood usually for carving; use jujube or poplar, and dry it after cutting."

He didn’t mind sharing this knowledge, as the process was simple and easy to imitate.

The Chen brothers exchanged glances, pondering Zhang Yue’s advice.

"Will it work?" the dormitory head asked.

"We’ll try and see," the brothers replied.

The dormitory head smiled at Zhang Yue. "I knew you were capable. If your method works, I’ll cover your ink and carving costs, and you won’t have to pay for exam paper printing in the future."

The academy held private exams monthly and public exams yearly; the answer sheets were printed in the academy’s workshop, and a fee was charged each time. Though small, it could save nearly a string of coins a year.

"Is that a promise? The book I want to print is quite thick," Zhang Yue said.

The dormitory head laughed, "If I promise, I won’t go back on my word."

Zhang Yue laughed, "You are truly forthright; it is a joy to associate with you."

Both laughed heartily.

A few days later, the Chen brothers successfully made durable wooden movable type, much better than before.

Zhang Yue finished writing the book to be printed.

It was a collection of recent 'model essays.'

In the Song Dynasty, 'model essays' referred to official compositions—examiners wrote a sample for students to imitate. This was the model essay.

In Ming and Qing times, 'model essay' meant the examination compositions of successful candidates.

In the Northern Song, the jinshi exam had no such concept; the system was still evolving. At first, candidates studied independently, focusing on literary flair, later favoring ornate style over substance—criticizing, in fact, the 'Xikun style' created by Zhang Yue’s fellow townsman, Yang Yi.

Now, the jinshi exam favored the 'Imperial Academy style,' a style invented by Shi Jie, which became popular among students after he won high honors in the Jingyou era.

But in the second year of Jiayou, the examiner, Ouyang Xiu, harshly denounced this style.

For instance, a student named Liu Ji wrote, "Heaven and earth collide, all things sprout, the sage arises," as the opening of his essay.

Ouyang Xiu dismissed him and sarcastically quipped, "The student stabs, the examiner brushes it away."

This was disastrous for scholars.

Having studied the Imperial Academy style for over a decade, they suddenly found themselves at a loss. After Jiayou’s second year, no one knew which direction the jinshi exam essays would take.

So Zhang Yue compiled the top-ranked essays from the provincial and palace exams, including Su Shi’s famous 'On Ultimate Justice in Rewards and Punishments,' and published a book titled 'High-Ranking Essays of the Second Year of Jiayou in the Imperial Song.'

This collection represented the latest exam trends, a must-read for every jinshi candidate.

Once completed, Zhang Yue presented it to the academic supervisor for review.

He was nervous, but the academic supervisor grew more pleased as he read. "Ouyang Xiu once said, 'Impartial as creation, just as the scales,’ and it is true. Today’s essays neglect moral instruction, favoring flamboyance, but Ouyang Xiu seeks to sweep away these ailments, imitate Han Yu and Liu Zongyuan in promoting ancient ways, and use them as the standard for evaluating essays—supreme justice!"

"Sir, you are right. Though I am a classics student, I feel substance should come first, style second."

The academic supervisor smiled, "It is rare for a classics student to have such insight, and it reminds me of your brother—he once said the same."

"So, how do you intend to sell this book?"

"The printing costs are high—carving, ink, layout. To break even, I must sell at least one hundred strings. I plan to price it at six hundred coins per copy—not for profit, but to promote good writing and benefit local students," Zhang Yue replied.

"That is a good deed. If every jinshi student in the county had a copy, it would be ideal. Each essay represents Ouyang Xiu’s advocacy for antiquity," the supervisor said.

"Thank you for your guidance; I will do my best," Zhang Yue replied.

He placed ten copies on the supervisor’s desk. "These are freshly printed, the ink is best—later prints have some cracks. I selected the finest for you, to be given to friends and family."

The supervisor flipped through; the ink was indeed excellent. Zhang Yue truly knew how to do things.

The supervisor smiled, "Very well, I have uses for these, and I accept them gratefully."

Zhang Yue knew that printing was inexpensive; the main cost was carving, and whether the books would sell. At six hundred coins for a book of over ten thousand characters, it was cheap. Calculating, with ink and carving covered, after subtracting layout costs, he only needed to sell one hundred and thirty copies to recoup expenses.

So Zhang Yue decided to print two hundred copies to test the waters locally. News spread, and scholars flocked to buy; most were gone in a few days.

Zhang Yue marveled—the power of knowledge, in a blink, thirty strings of coins had entered his pocket.

The dormitory head, seeing this, couldn’t sit still. He negotiated a profit share, then ordered another five hundred copies to be sent to Jianyang.

Jianyang had hundreds of bookshops and merchants from all over. Every day, hundreds of merchants bought books there to resell elsewhere.

Soon, the dormitory head’s agent returned; all copies of 'High-Ranking Essays of the Second Year of Jiayou in the Imperial Song' had sold out, urging immediate reprints.

Within days, merchants from Jianyang arrived in Pucheng seeking more copies—demand exceeded supply.

Eventually, the book was reprinted several times, and once it saturated Jianyang, the entire region, and the market was flooded with it, the buying frenzy finally subsided.