Chapter 9

After a few days, the manuscript he had submitted finally received a response. The letter from the Commercial Press was short, but its content was very encouraging. It said that the manuscript was excellent, and the press was eager for the author to come and discuss matters such as royalties and publication. The letter was signed by someone named Xie Changhou. Yang Rui didn't recognize the middle character, which made him a bit nervous. He thought it would be better to wait a few more days before going, and decided to finish copying the book first. He then wrote a reply in the format requested, saying that he was busy recently and would visit the following weekend. For the signature, he adopted the style of the other party and gave himself the courtesy name "Jingcheng," which means "sharp and unstoppable, and things will be accomplished."

The days of copying the book passed quickly, and before he knew it, it was the beginning of winter. The families downstairs bought a lot of vegetables, and the little girl was happy all day. Old Deng had returned home, and Xiao Guangdong seemed not to have come back either. Yang Rui didn't pay much attention to these things. In the evening, Mrs. Xu downstairs sent a bowl of tangyuan (sweet glutinous rice balls) up, and then Mrs. Huang also sent a bowl, delivered by Qian Bichong. Yang Rui found it a bit strange to see Qian Bichong and asked why he wasn't at school. Qian Bichong said it was Saturday, and he didn't have to go to school the next day. Because it was the beginning of winter, his aunt had brought him here. Seeing that Yang Rui was busy, with the desk full of manuscripts, Qian Bichong didn't want to disturb him and left after a while.

The next day, when Yang Rui went downstairs to return the bowls, Qian Bichong was reading a book. This time it wasn't "Wealth of Nations," but a book on natural philosophy, which turned out to be physics. Qian Bichong saw Yang Rui and quickly took out "Wealth of Nations" to ask for help. Since Yang Rui was currently copying economics, he got into the spirit and explained some of the content he was copying. Being a modern textbook, and with Yang Rui's simplified explanations, Qian Bichong understood it quite smoothly. The morning passed this way, and in the afternoon, Yang Rui didn't go downstairs, just stayed in his room copying. In the evening, Qian Bichong came to say goodbye, and Yang Rui encouraged him a few words before letting him go.

After a few more days, Yang Rui finally finished copying the chapter on supply and demand, which was about 200,000 words. He thought it was enough to compile the first volume. He stopped copying and went back to proofreading, correcting typos and removing some inappropriate content—some economic theories shouldn't appear so early, better to wait until Europe and America had made their mistakes.

On Friday morning, Yang Rui went to the Commercial Press. Since it was nearby, he didn't call a rickshaw. After searching for a while, he finally found it. The famous Commercial Press of the future wasn't in a business building but in an independent residential courtyard. The front was a two-story building, the back was a courtyard, and further back was another two-story building, probably a printing factory. The front of the building had a door with the characters "Commercial Press" in traditional Chinese. Yang Rui went in, and a young man came up to ask, "Sir, who are you looking for?"

Yang Rui was just about to ask where Mr. Xie was, so he said, "I'm here at the invitation of your Mr. Xie. My surname is Yang. Please inform Mr. Xie."

The young man, seeing Yang Rui dressed in Western style, didn't doubt him and went inside. After a while, a middle-aged man who looked like a country gentleman came out. He was around thirty, with a prosperous appearance, thick eyebrows, and a gentle demeanor, like a priest in a church. Seeing Yang Rui, he immediately clasped his hands and said, "Mr. Yang, good day. I've been waiting for you all morning."

Being addressed as "you" by an older person made Yang Rui feel a bit embarrassed, so he also clasped his hands and said, "Mr. Xie, you're too kind. I've been busy recently, and I've been organizing the manuscript, so I should have come earlier."

"No problem, no problem, Mr. Yang, please come this way." Mr. Xie was very热情, leading Yang Rui inside. There was a staircase by the side door, and up the stairs was a small office. The outer room was a reception area. After sitting down, Mr. Xie sighed, "Our press is quite humble, I hope you don't mind."

"Where, where, the press doesn't need to be big, as long as it has books, it's full of spirit," Yang Rui had to be polite, not wanting to bring up the publication directly, thinking that this press would become world-famous in the future, even if it was humble now. They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then someone brought in tea. Yang Rui didn't dare to drink it, remembering the custom of offering tea to guests. Mr. Xie didn't notice Yang Rui's thoughts and continued, "Sir, may I ask where you are from?"

Yang Rui was most afraid of being asked about his background. How could he explain it clearly? But since he was asked, he had to say something, even if he had to make it up a bit. He composed himself and said, "This is a long story. My ancestral home is in Linxi. My father went abroad to America, and because there was no school in my childhood, I only learned a little about Chinese classics, which I am ashamed of. I studied Western learning from a young age and learned quite a bit. After high school, I wanted to continue, but due to poverty, I had to give up. Later, I audited classes at a university and studied in Europe for several years, gaining some knowledge of Western learning."

Mr. Xie, hearing Yang Rui's complicated story, said, "God bless." Seeing the awkward atmosphere, he changed the topic and got to the point, "Sir, our press is interested in publishing those books. When do you think you can finish the translation? Our press wants to buy the copyright."

Yang Rui, seeing the direct approach, replied, "The books have already been translated once, and now it's mainly about revising. It should be done within two months." Thinking of the half-finished economics book, he added, "The first volume of economics is already completed, and I brought it with me today." He then took out the manuscript.

Mr. Xie, who was a book lover, took the manuscript and started flipping through it. After about half an hour, when Yang Rui was starting to feel a bit stiff, Mr. Xie finally looked up and sighed, "Sir, your book provides a comprehensive and profound understanding of economics. It covers a wide range of topics and will surely stand out. Our press once translated Adam Smith's 'Wealth of Nations,' but it wasn't as good as this!"

"Oh, I've seen 'Wealth of Nations.' It was translated by your press. Your press has excellent taste. This book is also based on 'Wealth of Nations,' and the two complement each other." Yang Rui remembered that 'Wealth of Nations' was published by Nanyang Public School, indicating a close relationship between the press and the school.

Mr. Xie asked, "When do you think the second volume of your book will be completed?"

Yang Rui calculated, "By the end of this month."

"Good, good, good. To be honest, Nanyang Public School and our press have a good relationship. The school has a business class but lacks textbooks. Once your books are published, it will be much easier." After a pause, Mr. Xie continued, "Mr. Yang, let's talk business. Our press wants to buy the copyright. What do you think about the royalty fee?"

Yang Rui had been waiting for this question. Seeing that the other party had brought it up, he said, "Mr. Xie, you want the Chinese copyright, right? That's no problem. As for the royalty fee, let's follow your press's rules."

Mr. Xie nodded, thought for a moment, and said, "Sir, our press is willing to pay 1,200 taels for the copyright of this book. What do you think?" Afraid that Yang Rui might have objections to the price, he added, "Our press once paid 2,000 taels for 'Wealth of Nations,' but the translator, Mr. Yan, was an official, so we didn't dare to be too bold and set a higher price."

Yang Rui had thought that the copyright of a book would be worth only a few hundred taels. Considering the current price level, one tael was roughly equivalent to 100 RMB in the future. A few hundred taels would be tens of thousands of RMB, consistent with the price of newspaper articles. However, the press was treating this book as a classic, so the price was high. Hearing that he could get over a thousand taels, he was very pleased. Seeing the other party's honesty, he felt a sense of respect and said, "Mr. Xie, your honesty is deeply appreciated. How about this: I'll give the Chinese paper copyright to your press for 1,000 taels. Is that acceptable?"

Mr. Xie was confused and asked, "Chinese paper copyright, what does that mean?"

"Chinese paper copyright mainly refers to the Chinese language copyright, excluding foreign languages." As for the electronic copyright, it was hard to explain, so he stuck to the paper format.

Mr. Xie understood that the book could only be sold in China, not abroad. At that time, China was mainly importing foreign technology and culture, not thinking about exporting. The press had only been established for a few years and was busy with the domestic market, so they had no time to think about the international market. As for the paper format, although he didn't know what other formats existed, all books were paper-based, and no one used bamboo slips anymore. He had no objections.

Next, they wrote the contract. The economics book was sold for 1,000 taels. The other two books, if of similar quality and length, would follow the same price. If there were significant differences, they would negotiate based on this price. After the contract was written and both parties agreed, they signed and stamped it. The press paid 1,000 taels, in banknotes issued by the China Commercial Bank. Yang Rui had no objections, as carrying all the silver would be inconvenient. After finishing the business, they chatted a bit, and Yang Rui left. Although they had a pleasant conversation, Mr. Xie was very busy, and several people came upstairs and left when they saw him in a meeting.

Leaving the press, walking on the back street, Yang Rui was elated. A thousand taels, plus the other two books, would be about three thousand taels. He was one step closer to his plan. With more books, he could earn tens of thousands of taels. However, some books were better left unpublished. Yang Rui decided to publish only the microeconomics and not the macroeconomics. He would wait until after the 1929 crisis in the United States to make it worse.

Money made him feel good, but he had no one to share his joy with, which made him a bit lonely. Back in his room, Yang Rui couldn't sit still. Thinking about his money, he decided to redeem his gold chain and go for a walk. He found the pawn ticket, locked his important items in a box, and hurried out.

He knew the general location of the pawn shop. Inside, the same clerks were there. After settling the account and paying the money, he finally got his chain back. He carefully put it away, as he didn't have many personal items and couldn't afford to lose any. After leaving the pawn shop, he found a rickshaw and headed for the French Concession. On the way to the pawn shop, Yang Rui had thought about exploring the city. He had only two places left to visit: the French Concession and the Chinese market. He didn't dare to go to the Chinese market without a braid and didn't want to buy a fake one, so he went to the French Concession.

As the rickshaw passed a crossroads, Yang Rui saw a group of young people walking on the roadside. Although they weren't in a line, it was still a impressive sight. Suddenly, he saw someone who looked like Qian Bichong. Trying to get a better look, the person disappeared into the crowd. It was already winter, and the weather was a bit cold. The rickshaw driver ran fast, and the crossroads passed in a flash. Yang Rui didn't investigate further, thinking it might just be someone who looked like him.

In fact, Yang Rui hadn't been mistaken. It was Qian Bichong, who was with a group of classmates. Seeing Yang Rui, he immediately hid behind his classmates. A moment later, he peeked out but saw that the rickshaw was already gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. A classmate asked, "Why are you hiding? So nervous?"

"It's the tenant at my aunt's house. I don't know how to tell my family about what happened this morning," Qian Bichong said, looking troubled.

"What's the big deal? It's just that old man from the countryside who doesn't treat us like human beings. If it weren't for him, would we be like this?" the classmate said angrily. Qian Bichong was speechless, thinking about how to explain to his parents.