Words Formed Sentences, Sentences Formed Chapters, Chapters Layered into Books

Leaving aside the extraordinary changes, these shifts are all the Karma of words and actions, a process of building momentum for future action. If nothing further is heard, the situation will eventually subside.

Qiu Yan asked Hua She a couple of questions, which made the latter even more nervous. His slightly sallow face turned bright red, causing Hu Ye, Zhang Shun, and the others to frown repeatedly.

Hu Ye felt that the servant was wasting time, while Zhang Shun thought that Hua She had lost his manners in front of Qiu Yan.

At the crucial moment, Meng Wei stepped forward and gently tapped Hua She on the back, helping the latter recover from his tension. He then replied, "Sir, you are wise. I was working at that Book-Printing Hall and have some knowledge of woodblock printing, which is why I mentioned it."

"I also know a little about woodblock printing," Qiu Yan nodded. "I've heard it's very convenient, as it eliminates the need for word-for-word copying, saving a lot of time that can be used for reading and learning." His words set the tone from the outset.

In this way, others would no longer be able to refute Hua She with superficial methods.

Hua She immediately felt his back straighten up a lot. He also heard the whispers of the people around him. He was flustered and couldn't help but feel lost and uncertain. In his anxiety, he dared not say another word.

Now, Qiu Yan says that woodblock printing helps save time, which pleases him greatly, a view shared by Hua She.

"Sir, you are indeed very knowledgeable," Hua She, bowing respectfully. "It is good to inform you that, besides being time-saving and labor-saving, woodblock printing can produce hundreds of books in a short period of time. It also has many other advantages. The pine soot ink used in printing is as fine as lacquer and can last for more than a thousand years. Furthermore, if the woodblock prints are written by a master calligrapher and printed on paper, they can be circulated throughout the world, allowing everyone to obtain such masterpieces..."

"Nonsense!"

Finally, someone interrupted him. It was the same person mentioned earlier who practiced calligraphy diligently every day. His face was ashen as he rebuked him, "To print and publish your calligraphy is utterly absurd! The calligraphy of great masters possesses a unique spirit. It is created by focusing the mind and spirit during the writing process, and there is only one copy. Even if it is printed, it will lose its essence. Yet you, a mere brat, dare to spout such arrogant words, claiming that your work will be circulated throughout the world?"

This rebuke startled Hua She, causing him to abruptly stop speaking, and the terrifying waves in the Void were thus halted.

Qiu Yan frowned. While he was teaching this time, he needed to appear approachable, but he couldn't be accommodating in everything. If there were no rules, he still had to make a statement.

However, before Qiu Yan could speak, a voice rang out from the crowd—

"Zheng Lao-Wu, you've gone a bit too far with your words. Hua She doesn't mean to tarnish the reputation of a great calligrapher. You say printed books lack spirit, that's natural. But what kind of person can write a work with spirit? And how many people can obtain one? Putting aside other things, aren't you, Zheng Lao-Wu, obsessed with calligraphy? Do you have any works with spirit at home? I'm afraid not, not even you..."

The speaker was none other than Meng Ting of the Meng Residence. Although he was a servant, he was a generous and forthright man. He was quite famous in the Daizhou City. People knew that he loved calligraphy and had made great achievements in it. When he spoke, they all paid attention.

The scholar, known as Zheng Lao-Wu, blushed at the question and, provoked, immediately retorted, "What do you mean, 'no'? My ancestor once accompanied Right Army to watch geese and received a fan inscribed with his calligraphy as a gift. Every day when I practice calligraphy, I..."

At this point, he stopped abruptly, realizing he had spoken out of turn, but it was too late.

"You cunning Zheng Lao-Wu! You actually possessed the characters of the Right Army! You really kept it from me for a long time!"

"No wonder you always act so furtively when you practice calligraphy, saying things like 'keep away so no one can disturb your concentration.' It was all just an excuse; you didn't want us to see Right Army's calligraphy!"

"Exactly! To have such a masterpiece and yet hide it away is incredibly stingy!"

This immediately caused an uproar among the crowd. Forget about the Hua She, everyone started criticizing Zheng Lao-Wu, making his face flush even redder with embarrassment. He stammered, "It's not that I'm stingy, but our ancestors taught that such precious items should not be easily shown to others by future generations..."

"This is it. The Zheng Household is a scholarly family. After generations, they only have this one fan. How could ordinary families ever see one?" At this moment, Meng Wei suppressed his envy and continued, "Even if only the shape of a printed book is reproduced, it's still good. It's better than a masterpiece being kept on a high shelf, never to be seen by others."

When he said those words at this moment, the feeling was completely different. Those around him had just experienced it and were deeply moved. When they looked at Hua She, their mood was somewhat different.

Everyone wants to collect masterpieces by great calligraphers, but there are far more monks than porridge, and those who have obtained treasures often keep them secret. If one can obtain a printed copy, it is a consolation, even if it lacks the spirit of the original, it is still better than ordinary calligraphy.

Immediately afterward, Meng Ting added, "Whether what I said is correct or not, you might as well ask the gentleman. The gentleman Peerless in Calligraphy and Painting, and his brushstrokes are equally imbued with spirit."

Upon hearing this, the others suddenly came to their senses, and remembering Qiu Yan's past reputation, their eyes became much more eager.

Right Army has passed away, and his calligraphy is worth a fortune, but it is hard to buy even with money. However, Qiu Yan is right in front of him. Even if his reputation for calligraphy is not as good as that of the ancients from hundreds of years ago, his calligraphy has a unique charm. Even if he is a great calligrapher, it would be remarkable to obtain a piece of his calligraphy. It's just that no one dares to ask for it.

Qiu Yan then took over the conversation, saying, "If everyone were to write one, I know I don't have the energy or time. However, after two days of lecturing with you all, we have formed a friendship, and I will naturally do my part to show my appreciation." Upon hearing this, everyone smiled, and no one thought Qiu Yan was refusing.

Writing calligraphy requires mental and physical effort. If everyone writes, it will inevitably lead to overexertion. Furthermore, people are not concerned about scarcity but about inequality. It is impossible to give one piece to one person while refusing to give another. Therefore, Qiu Yan's method of handling the matter is indeed quite fair.

Then, he said, "As for the matter of printing failing to capture the spirit, Meng Ting has already made it very clear. To be honest, when I was practicing calligraphy, I often looked at the calligraphy models of the ancients and studied their brushstrokes. Even if it lacked the spirit, just capturing the form was good enough."

With these words, Hua She had no more scruples. Others, having experienced all this, had no interest in finding fault anymore, and were only waiting to see what words Qiu Yan would leave behind.

However, after what had happened, Hua She dared not continue to praise woodblock printing. Instead, he expressed his thoughts. "Woodblock printing also has its drawbacks. Although it is convenient for preservation, it is very costly. Often, a single book requires hundreds or even thousands of printing blocks. Even with printing blocks on both sides, it is still a drop in the ocean."

"It's all just paper and ink, why sell it for so high prices? Isn't it because your Book-Printing Hall are greedy for money!" A person in the crowd spoke up. This person was also clean, unlike the poor man whose clothes were patched, or the noble Aristocratic Clan clothes were luxurious. He should be from a middle-class family.

Only such people have the means to buy woodblock-printed books, but each purchase feels like a painful tear in their heart, as the prices are truly exorbitant.

Before Hua She could explain, Qiu Yan said, "Although a book is just paper and ink, since woodblock printing is difficult to make and it can't be used many times, the cost must be taken into account. That's probably why it's so expensive."

"That's right," Hua She, unsurprised. In his mind, Qiu Yan was already an omniscient figure. "A single book requires dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of printings, and once used, it's rarely reprinted. But these printing blocks require someone to write the typeface, and then workers to carve them. The wood used for the printing blocks has to be bought, and the helpers who copy and carve also have to pay wages. If these costs aren't factored in, the books will be sold at a loss. How can Book-Printing Hall stay in business? That's why printed books are quite expensive."

People of this era also understood the issues of capital and labor costs. Book-Printing Hall was actually a handicraft workshop, and helpers also needed to be paid. If it was a family-inherited craft, it was fine, but with the promulgation of official laws, the industry became more and more formalized, and there were also copyright ownership issues, involving many aspects. Ordinary family workshops were already difficult to operate, which is why organizations like the Meng Residence were formed to recruit helpers.

After hearing these words, the many lay scholars present gained some understanding of the woodblock printing industry and discovered some clues about it.

Now that there were no obstacles, Hua She's thoughts flowed more smoothly, and he explained his ideas one by one, "I think that the transmission of these books is related to the teachings of the sages. Although they are not as precious as handwritten copies, hundreds of books can be produced in a few days. If they could all be distributed, it would benefit the country and aid in learning. However, because the cost is too high and the price is too great, it has become an obstacle and makes it difficult to make them effective."

At this point, he looked up at Qiu Yan, gritted his teeth, and said what was on his mind, "Therefore, whether or not the price can be lowered is related to the development of Human Path."

Such a small price, when considered in the context of Human Path, might seem like an outrageous statement to outsiders, but with Qiu Yan present, it wasn't their place to interrupt.

Qiu Yan pondered for a moment, then asked in return, "According to you, the reason the price is so high is because each book corresponds to hundreds of woodblocks. Once used, they are difficult to reopen, and most are shelved. When a new book is to be printed, new woodblocks must be made, and so on. The price of a book is not only the paper and ink, but also the hundreds of woodblocks. How can it not be expensive?"

"That's right," Hua She scratched his head. "I have kept in mind your method of learning through practice, which is why I thought of these things. But even though I know the crux of the problem, I don't know how to solve it. If we could reduce the cost of woodblock printing, or if there were a way to have one person carve and print multiple blocks at the same time, perhaps we could reduce the cost and labor."

"These are all temporary solutions, not permanent ones." Qiu Yan shook his head. "Let me ask you, what is printed using Woodblock Printing?"

"What is being printed? It's a book, of course." This question not only puzzled Hua She, but also left others somewhat bewildered, feeling that it was a rhetorical question.

Qiu Yan shook his head again, and asked, "How can it be written as a book?"

"How is a book made? It's about the pages, the binding, and then..." Hua She's answer was initially somewhat unclear, but as he continued, he seemed to understand something—

"Add more words!"

Qiu Yan nodded and said, "That's it. Words form sentences, sentences form chapters, and chapters combine to form a book! Why not work on the words themselves?"

These words sent a subtle tremor through the tide of Human Path! (To be continued...)

P. S.: Thanks to "aviation formatting", "Wan Xia Xia La", "Alternative Life", "I Can't Get Full", and "zzll Scorpio" for their donations!

Thank you to "Seemingly Fate" and "Dragon Ghost" for the monthly votes!

I also want to thank the friends who sent me birthday red envelopes, but I searched through the entire backend system and couldn't find where the statistics were kept, so I can't list their names, which is a shame...