Chapter 72
Chapter 72
Although the Ink Scent Pavilion and the Jade Woman's Loft had built such tall structures, their distribution channels for books were likely inferior to the shopkeeper who sold erotic art and picture books before them.
This shopkeeper could distribute his erotic art and picture books to every shop in Raging Tide City; even a coffin shop would likely carry his books. Not only that, but his business was so extensive that he could display his books in four or five neighboring prefectures and over twenty cities.
Jin Mucong asked.
“Shopkeeper, what is your name?”
The hunchbacked middle-aged man replied.
“This humble one is named Deng Xian.”
He quickly read through all the erotic passages described in the manuscript, praising them until his mouth went dry. When he saw the illustrations drawn by Shen Lang, he was even more astonished.
‘A master! He is undoubtedly a master!’
The quality of the art, the depiction of the figures, the elegance exuded by the drawings, and their realism were all vastly superior to the other erotic books in his shop. It wasn't that the books he sold were bad. It was just that his own erotic art could be described in a single phrase...
“It leaves you limp.”
The erotic art he sold was not realistically depicted but merely drawn to look plausible. However, Shen Lang’s illustrations, which referenced Western sketching techniques, were incomparably realistic compared to the art of this world.
Deng Xian said to them.
“This will definitely sell well. It will be a huge hit. Young Masters, if this book doesn't sell more than three thousand copies, you can have my head.”
Shen Lang replied.
“Three thousand copies? You jest! My goal is to shatter all existing book sales records. I have only one demand: release it at the same time as the second volume of Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream* and utterly crush his book!”
Hearing Shen Lang say that the new book’s sales would crush Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream*, the hunchbacked shopkeeper, Deng Xian, flinched.
“Young Master, that… that might be difficult, wouldn’t it?”
“How many copies did the first volume of Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream* sell?”
“Four thousand six hundred copies. Excluding the classics, that’s the highest sales record for any book published in Raging Tide City.”
Even though the distribution channels of Raging Tide City’s major bookstores covered a population of several million across thirty to forty cities, four thousand six hundred copies was indeed a very high sales figure.
“Zhu Wenhua is the son of a noble and a great talent who became a prodigy in his youth, so he writes well. Because of that, whether they are young ladies from poor families or daughters of prestigious households, everyone has a copy. Wealthy young ladies who admire him often buy several hundred copies at once to give one to each of their maids.”
Shen Lang was reminded of how, on Earth, whenever an idol’s movie was released, his ardent female fans would buy hundreds of tickets at a time and stand at the theater entrance, handing them out to everyone they saw. He thought it lacked class.
But he understood the extent of Zhu Wenhua’s influence. It was because his influence was so immense that as soon as he declared he would prevent Shen Lang's book from being published, no bookstore in Raging Tide City dared to release it.
Shen Lang asked Deng Xian.
“Shopkeeper Deng, what’s the highest number of copies you’ve sold for one of your books?”
“Two thousand seven hundred copies. But that book was seventy percent pictures and thirty percent text. It was also very explicit and vulgar, incomparable to the Young Master’s book.”
Then, Deng Xian hesitated slightly and said.
“To be honest, the Young Master’s book is of such high quality that I fear our customers might not be able to appreciate it. The reason I predicted it would sell three thousand copies is because the erotic prose is excellent, and the illustrations are even more so.”
“Then how many copies do you think the second volume of Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream* will sell?”
“Five or six thousand copies.”
Many readers had seen the first volume of *Mandarin Duck Dream*. All of them were likely craning their necks in anticipation of the second volume’s release, so its sales would be formidable.
“If I push the Young Master’s book with all my might, I can probably sell around three thousand copies. But more than that will be difficult, and surpassing the sales of the second volume of *Mandarin Duck Dream* will be even harder.”
Then, Deng Xian said with a serious expression.
“Frankly, the book Young Master Shen has written is far superior to Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream*. They aren't even in the same league. But… because this book is so exceptional, the majority of common people won’t be able to properly understand its content.”
Shen Lang was rather surprised.
‘He understood the superiority of this book just by reading the erotic scenes?’
Deng Xian stammered.
“I… I was once a writer myself. I wasn’t very good, but I have a keen eye for other people’s work. But just as good wine in a deep alley might not sell well, I fear that even I cannot surpass the sales of *Mandarin Duck Dream*’s second volume.”
Deng Xian spoke honestly. In response, Shen Lang told him.
“You’re worried that good wine in a deep alley won’t sell well? Don’t worry, we just need to attract people’s attention. I guarantee you, when this book is released, the stench—no, the fragrant aroma of wine will fill the air in all directions. Shopkeeper Deng, I’ll protect your pockets, so print as many copies as you can. If it doesn’t sell more than three thousand copies, I will cover the cost. But if it sells more than three thousand…”
“I will give you a twenty percent commission per copy.”
‘Wow! That’s a very high royalty. Deng Xian is no ordinary man, to offer the highest rate right away.’
Of course, Shen Lang’s purpose for publishing the book wasn't to make money, but if he could earn from it, that would be the icing on the cake.
“Excellent. Then I will use the best tin movable type, gather the most skilled printers, and have these illustrations engraved onto woodblocks. I will spare no expense in manpower or money to ensure that your *Boundless Wind and Moon* is released on the same day as Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream*.”
Shen Lang said.
“His book will be sold in bookstores, so let’s sell ours at street stalls. Wherever a bookstore sells *Mandarin Duck Dream*, we’ll set up a stall right at its entrance and sell our book.”
‘He wants us to use such hooligan tactics?’
Deng Xian nodded and replied.
“Understood. We’ll do just that.”
“Shopkeeper Deng, can you handle it?”
To play the hooligan, one needed guts and skill. Deng Xian smiled as if it were nothing.
“No problem. Who would a hopeless man like me be afraid of?”
“Wait a moment. I’ll add a bit more content to the book and draw a few more illustrations.”
Shen Lang picked up a brush and added spontaneously created content to the manuscript. Jin Mucong, watching him, was once again dumbfounded. Shen Lang had added a new character on the spot.
The character’s name was Zhu Wenshan, the illegitimate son of a fallen noble. Wanting to continue living a life of wealth and luxury, he lived outside as Lord Ximen’s kept man. In the book, Lord Ximen sought him out twice to make love with him. Once in a room, and once on a roof. The new illustration Shen Lang drew was of the scene on the roof.
Not only that, but Zhu Wenshan also engaged in improper acts with Ximen Xianxian, which was also turned into an illustration.
The figures in the drawing looked familiar to both Jin Mucong and Deng Xian. Jin Mucong couldn't help but mourn for Zhu Wenhua for a moment. If this book became a sensation, Zhu Wenhua’s reputation would be utterly ruined. Of course, he wasn’t actually a merchant’s lover. But who would bother to check the facts while reading a book? Everyone in the world loves a good rumor, and if it's repeated five hundred times, wouldn't it become reality?
Shen Lang looked at Deng Xian and asked.
“Will this be a problem?”
“No problem. What problem could there be?”
Seeing how he paid no mind to Zhu Wenhua, this man must have some backing of his own.
“Then I will eagerly await the day our book is released.”
Deng Xian respectfully collected the manuscript and bowed his head to Shen Lang.
“I will not disappoint you two. Young Master Shen, good wine in a deep alley…”
Shen Lang replied to him.
“Don’t worry about that. I will be on my way. I guarantee that on the day our book is released, everyone will be so captivated by it that they will lose their minds.”
***
After returning to the count’s estate, Shen Lang immediately transformed into an artist. He intended to draw promotional posters. The posters had to be outstanding, erotic, and colored to catch people’s eyes. With the technology here, colored posters couldn't be printed, so he had to draw them himself.
The posters were drawn using realistic Western sketching techniques and then colored. While not as good as photographs, they achieved about eighty percent of a photo’s quality. The main figures on the poster were Lord Ximen, Zhu Wenshan, and Ximen Xianxian, depicted in very suggestive poses and postures. This world had no photography, and it was an era where impressionistic painting styles were popular. Therefore, the impact of Shen Lang’s posters on the people of this era would be explosive.
The art on the posters was so realistic it was breathtaking, comparable to the DVD cover of a certain type of film. Moreover, Shen Lang was drawing large posters, and their content was risqué, so they would get a more explosive reaction than a pin-up of a beautiful woman in a bikini. What would happen if these large, colored posters were hung at the stalls selling the books? An explosive reaction, of course. People might stare so hard they’d burn a hole through them.
Jin Mucong carelessly barged into Shen Lang’s room and saw the posture of Ximen Xianxian kneeling on the poster. In that instant, with his breath turning ragged enough to spew fire and his ears turning red, Jin Mucong stared intently at the poster.
“Brother-in-law, I’m leaving.”
With only those words, he left, bent at the waist.
***
The next day, Jin Mucong again thoughtlessly opened Shen Lang’s door, and his expression immediately changed. This time, the poster depicted Ximen Xianxian sitting on the floor with her legs spread.
‘My god. This drawing is just too lethal.’
Jin Mucong hurriedly covered his nose and, bent at the waist, said.
“Brother-in-law, I’ll be going now.”
***
On the third day, Jin Mucong, with dark circles under his eyes, burst into Shen Lang’s study. In a moment, he saw a drawing on a large scroll depicting two men and Ximen Xianxian. Jin Mucong crouched down and said painfully.
“Brother-in-law, I… I can’t take it anymore.”
Shen Lang said, as if looking down on him.
“This is art. To see it as something vulgar.”
“Brother-in-law, this woman looks exactly like Xu Qianqian. If you draw her like this, Zhang Jin will become the husband of a cuckquean.”
“Indeed. For the next three years, Xu Qianqian will feel full even without eating.”
Jin Mucong asked in surprise.
“Brother-in-law, what do you mean?”
A moment later, Jin Mucong’s breathing grew a little ragged.
“I can’t. Brother-in-law, I have to go now.”
Jin Mucong left again.
***
On the fourth day, Jin Mucong, with both eyes bruised and limping, entered Shen Lang’s room. Shen Lang was drawing again. This time, it was a picture of Lord Ximen, Zhu Wenshan, and Ximen Xianxian. But this time, the main characters of the drawing were Lord Ximen and Zhu Wenshan, with Ximen Xianxian as a bystander.
Until now, Jin Mucong’s reactions had been like this:
“Brother-in-law, save me, save me. I’m really going to die.”
But this time, after one look at the scroll, he instantly went limp.
“Ugh.”
The drawing induced a strong sense of disgust. Judging by this reaction, Jin Mucong’s tastes were that of a typical man.
“Brother-in-law, being an artist isn’t easy, not easy at all. It’s like putting shit in your mouth, one bite at a time.”
His words were so disgusting that even Shen Lang couldn’t help but dry heave.
“Urgh! You damn fatty, you have some nerve saying that. Damn it!”
Shen Lang cursed at him. At that moment, Jin Mulan entered, saw the drawing before her, and left again without a word. She sighed sadly to herself.
“It seems my husband has a dark side he cannot speak of to others.”
***
The days when Shen Lang couldn't show off passed quickly, and thirteen days went by. Deng Xian invested the maximum amount of manpower, resources, and finances to finish the typesetting, printing, cutting, and binding in thirteen days. He personally delivered the first printed copy of *Boundless Wind and Moon* to the Count of Xuanwu’s estate.
On the cover were three people. Lord Ximen and Zhu Wenshan were inside a room, while Ximen Xianxian was peeking at them from outside a window. She was coolly dressed in something like underwear, a sight that was stirring just to look at.
Deng Xian asked Shen Lang.
“Young Master, what do you think?”
“Very good.”
“This humble one is certain this book will be a sensation! The day after tomorrow is the release date for the second volume of Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream*. Our book will be released on the same day and will be sold in front of wherever his book is sold. However, good wine in a deep alley doesn’t sell well, so I doubt our book can possibly…”
‘Damn it, is that the only thing you know how to say?’
Without a word, Shen Lang yanked down a curtain hanging on the wall. In an instant, a dozen huge, colored portraits were suddenly revealed. They were drawings that anyone would find realistic, captivating, and breathtaking.
“Ah…”
Deng Xian let out a wretched sound and collapsed to the floor. Then, he quickly covered his nose with his other hand. It was a powerful shock, like a bomb had gone off from his eyes to his soul.
“With these, won’t we be able to spread the aroma of our wine in all directions?”
Deng Xian, trembling, replied.
“Young Master Shen. Let’s destroy him. Let’s crush Zhu Wenhua!”
Two days later, *Boundless Wind and Moon*, co-authored by Shen Lang and Jin Mucong, and the second volume of Zhu Wenhua’s *Mandarin Duck Dream* were released simultaneously.