Chapter 108: Additional Printing

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“Young Master!”

Mo San came running into the Mo residence, gasping for breath.

Zi Yi hurriedly poured him a cup of water and handed it over. After watching him drain it in one gulp, she quickly asked, “Third Brother, how are sales of the Mo Journal?”

Mo San had grown so anxious waiting at the Mo residence that he had gone straight to the streets to check on sales himself.

“Young Master, Zi Yi—the Mo Journal… is sold out!” Mo San announced, his face alight with delight.

Chang’an was Mo San’s primary distribution center. He had printed five thousand copies of the half-monthly and distributed them throughout the Guanzhong region, two thousand of them in Chang’an alone. He had never expected them to sell out in a single day.

“That’s wonderful!” Zi Yi cried, practically jumping for joy.

Mo Dun, however, remained perfectly calm. He had anticipated this outcome. The Mo Journal contained sensational material and novel news, not to mention Zi Yi’s new-style satirical comics. It would have been strange if it had not become a sensation.

Although news traveled slowly in this era, that did not mean people had no thirst for information.

Chang’an was the political and economic heart of the empire. Merchants came and went from every direction, while taverns, restaurants, and noble households all desperately craved the latest news.

“Print more! Hurry and print more!” Zi Yi said excitedly, waving her fist.

The first day’s supply had already sold out. A half-monthly’s sales cycle was normally at least ten days, and judging from this momentum, sales were certain to climb even higher.

“What else could I do? I’ve already given the order to print another eight thousand copies. As for whether we print more after that, we’ll decide according to sales.” Mo San was decisive, immediately increasing the print run by more than double.

A circulation of thirteen thousand copies might have been no more than a regional tabloid in later generations, but in an age of hand-carved printing blocks and manual printing, it was an astonishing achievement.

“Selling out isn’t the real goal. How many subscriptions have we secured?” Mo Dun asked. What would keep the Mo Journal alive was not a momentary craze, but sustained renewals.

“Young Master, so far more than a thousand copies have been subscribed to for six months in Chang’an, and three hundred for a full year. Most of them are taverns, restaurants, and shops,” Mo San replied.

Mo Dun nodded. Judging from his experience in later generations, restaurants and shops truly were the places most in need of information. They had always been major distributors of newspapers.

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“But there are other places we should pay more attention to. Private schools at every level and government offices could also be cultivated as subscribers.” Mo Dun offered Mo San some guidance. Schools and administrative institutions were another major market for newspapers. The satirical comics by Zi Yi, in particular, would surely hold tremendous appeal for those mischievous youngsters in the private schools.

Mo San nodded and hurriedly committed the advice to memory. He now revered his young master’s abilities, treating every word Mo Dun spoke as absolute wisdom.

“Third Brother, you must have made a fortune this time! When will you pay me for my articles?” Zi Yi asked, extending her hand toward Mo San.

“Pay you for your articles?” Mo San gave a bitter smile. “Zi Yi, including the reprint, we have thirteen thousand copies in all. Even if every one of them sells, that amounts to only thirteen strings of cash. After factoring in the printing blocks, labor, ink, and the people hired to sell the journals, all the expenses together will probably leave us breaking even. Where would I find the money to pay you?”

“Ah!” Zi Yi’s face fell at once. She had thought she could finally support herself and earn a substantial sum, but she had not expected to receive nothing at all.

“Then raise the price! Yes, raise it to two coins a copy. That way, you’ll have enough to pay me!” Zi Yi suggested what she considered an excellent idea.

“Hmm.” Mo San was visibly tempted. The proposal did seem reasonable. Running at a loss was certainly not a sustainable business model. Still, he felt uneasy and quickly glanced toward Mo Dun, who was leisurely reading nearby. The idea of selling each copy for one coin had come from Mo Dun himself.

“Don’t listen to Zi Yi’s nonsense. I guarantee that if you raise the price, you won’t even recover the cost of the materials,” Mo Dun said.

“Then what should I do, Young Master?” Mo San asked. He had complete faith in Mo Dun.

“Don’t worry. This issue was mainly intended to establish the market. In the next issue, I’ll have every enterprise in Mo Family Village place advertisements in the journal. The advertising fees alone will leave you counting money until your hands ache.”

In later generations, when print media had flourished, which newspaper had survived solely by selling copies? There had been countless thick newspapers sold for next to nothing. The purchasing power of a single coin in the Tang Empire was far greater than that of a whole currency unit in later times.

“But how could we do that? How could I take money from Mo Family Village?” Mo San hurriedly protested.

Mo San was no stranger to advertising. His own career had begun when he helped Mo Dun print advertisements for the Mo Family Technology Exhibition.

“If Mo Family Village advertises in the Mo Journal, the village’s profits will increase while the journal turns a profit. That is a win-win arrangement. Once the Mo Journal becomes established, plenty of merchants will naturally want to advertise in it. At that point, the advertisements from Mo Family Village can gradually be withdrawn,” Mo Dun explained.

“Thank you, Young Master!” Mo San said gratefully.

Although it was indeed mutually beneficial, he could still sense how seriously Mo Dun regarded the Mo Journal—even to the point of subsidizing it with his own money.

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Had Mo Dun known what Mo San was thinking, he would certainly have been gratified. Although the Mo family’s standing had risen considerably under his management, it remained utterly vulnerable before certain aristocratic clans. Controlling the channels of public opinion was another means by which Mo Family Village could protect itself.

……

Mo Dun had still underestimated the Tang people’s thirst for information. The eight thousand copies sent into the Guanzhong region barely caused a ripple before disappearing. In only two days, all eight thousand copies of the Mo Journal had once again sold out.

Some farsighted merchants even bought large quantities of the journal just before leaving Chang’an, intending to return to their hometowns and resell them. News from the imperial capital was highly valuable in the provinces, and this gave the journal a second surge of popularity.

“Print more!”

“Print more!”

Only after two successive reprints did the fever surrounding the Mo Journal gradually subside. Its final sales reached twenty-five thousand copies, while six-month subscriptions alone climbed to five thousand. This time, Mo San did not even wait for the advertising fees from Mo Family Village to arrive before generously paying Zi Yi her full writer’s fee.

As the Mo Journal spread throughout Guanzhong, warnings about the dangers of consanguineous marriage and early marriage grew increasingly widespread. One horrifying account after another came to light, sending chills through everyone who heard them.

Previously, people had never considered the matter from this angle. But after the journal publicized Elder Hua’s statistical findings, together with various examples from their own surroundings, they could no longer deny that the dangers of consanguineous marriage and early marriage were undeniable facts.

Yet while the common people were in turmoil, the imperial court remained as silent as a grave. The court and the populace seemed to exist in two entirely different worlds—one engulfed in fire, the other buried in ice.

One impassioned young official even wanted to submit a memorial urging the emperor to abolish consanguineous marriage and early marriage. But just as he finished writing the memorial, before he had the chance to present it, an experienced old official stopped him.

The old official whispered a few words into the young man’s ear. The young official sighed deeply, then immediately tore the memorial in his hands to shreds. He returned to handling his duties as usual and never mentioned the matter again.

After all, one was the emperor and the other was the empire’s chancellor. To make both of them uncomfortable would be nothing short of courting death.

As for the marriage between Princess Changle and Changsun Chong, no one mentioned it again. It was as though the matter had never happened at all.

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