Chapter 904 – Wanbi Bookshop, Continued

When they considered it, the two indeed had some similarities. Wu Zhixiang sighed. "When it comes to Australian novelties, apart from glass, which of them wasn't something our Central Kingdom already had? Yet when anything passes through their hands for a little adjustment, it transforms as if reborn."

His observation drew nods of agreement from the others. Australian paper, wine, books, sanitary fixtures, all manner of objects—aside from glass and the "soft glass" used for "unbreakable bottles," which of these wasn't something that had existed since ancient times?

"Even glass—didn't our Central Kingdom have it too?" Zhang Dai was widely read, and his "miscellaneous learning" was extraordinarily rich. "Liuli is just glass. We've had it since the Han dynasties. It's a pity that now it's been reduced to roof tiles."

Wen Huai found this strange. "Are liuli and glass the same thing? I think they're quite different. It seems more similar to porcelain."

The group chatted as they strolled. Along the walls were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, row upon row, packed with books. The way the books were arranged differed from Chinese custom: instead of being laid horizontally in book cases, they stood upright in rows. Having seen Australian books the day before, they knew these had spines with titles and authors printed on them—standing them up made browsing at a glance effortless.

Ladders were placed beside the bookshelves—like siege ladders, with iron casters at the base so they could be easily rolled about. One could climb up to browse the upper shelves.

Where there weren't bookshelves there were windows, but from the domed ceiling hung a series of long, narrow paintings. Zhang Dai recognized these as Western oil paintings; he'd seen them at the Catholic church in Hangzhou and thought little of them.

Beyond the bookshelves were massive tables—even larger than the painting desks they used at home—displaying various books. Smaller tables and chairs were set nearby for reading and tea. This arrangement wasn't particularly unusual; the larger bookshops they'd visited had similar setups. But the chairs were distinctively styled: the tables were dainty round ones, and the chairs had backs that tilted slightly rearward, covered with some kind of cushioning material. Sun Chun was the first to sit down. He leaned back and found the chair supported his back, waist, and even his head—indescribably comfortable for reading.

On the round tables were exquisite tea sets: Yixing purple-clay ware, famous porcelains from various kilns, as well as Australian-made all-glass tea sets. Zhang Dai particularly liked the glass ones because they allowed him to observe the "elegant colors" when brewing tea; he'd paid a high price to acquire several sets.

But this was not the most remarkable feature. Most remarkable were several groupings of heavy, bed-like furniture in the hall, each consisting of one long piece flanked by two shorter ones. They resembled chairs but also couches, upholstered in fine Western cloth or brocade, with numerous cushion-like objects placed on top. This time, Zhang Dai was first to claim a seat.

"Marvelous!" He sat down and his body bounced slightly; he couldn't help but beam. "Come, sit, brothers! This thing is truly delightful!"

When Wen Huai and Sun Chun sat down, the firm-yet-yielding sensation brought them an experience they'd never had before. But for Wu Zhixiang, this was nothing new—Ziming Pavilion had such furniture too. He'd bought a pair of single-seat versions for his own enjoyment: the so-called "sofa chair."

Hearing the others debate why the sofa had such springiness, he laughed. "Gentlemen, though this furniture is soft and pliant, the inside is all ironwork."

No one believed him. Everyone knew iron—it was the hardest, strongest material. How could it produce such an effect? Wu Zhixiang explained that when he'd bribed the clerks to enter Ziming Pavilion, he'd seen several of them dismantling a sofa. The stuffing was nothing but kapok and the like, but underneath the sofa's base plate were densely packed coils of iron wire, layer upon layer.

The listeners were fascinated. Zhang Dai couldn't help sighing. "I used to think only Heaven's workings could be so marvelous. I never imagined that human artifice could also achieve such wonders!"

As the group chatted on the sofas, the attending clerk dared not interrupt. He quietly reported to Cai Shi. Cai Shi was familiar with the local scene; except when Zhao Yingong went out or sent him on errands, he was in charge of the bookshop. Because everyone knew this was a shop owned by a xiucai, and because Zhao Yingong had cultivated the local Catholic literati and secured their goodwill, ordinary street toughs didn't dare cause trouble here. Cai Shi's main job was to step forward and cultivate relationships whenever local gentry came in person or sent representatives—and if necessary, to report directly to Zhao Yingong.

He'd recognized Zhang Dai immediately. But he hadn't rushed out to greet them—from the way the clerks had been rebuffed, he knew these scholars wanted to look around on their own first. Going out to greet them would serve no purpose.

Now, seeing them all ensconced on the sofas and chattering away, he summoned a clerk:

"Go, report to the master at once. Tell him Master Zhang Dai has arrived at the shop."

Zhang Dai was a famous figure in Hangzhou. Even Cai Shi knew the master would want to entertain him properly. Now that he'd come to the door of his own accord, Cai Shi had to make sure he was well looked after.

He instructed a clerk to fetch chilled soda from the "icebox" and pour it into glasses.

The so-called "icebox" wasn't a Lingao-made gas refrigerator, but a wooden cabinet chilled with natural ice—something that already existed in this timeline. The Little Ice Age's harsh winters meant that even places like Hangzhou could harvest ice in winter for storage.

The soda was an even greater rarity—shipped by boat all the way from Guangdong. When Cai Shi saw the wooden crate full of glass bottles, his jaw nearly dropped. He understood perfectly well the value of such crystalline glass. In his mind, this soda was nothing less than "jade nectar from the heavens."

Zhang Dai took Cai Shi's attentive service in stride—nothing unusual. But he was interested in the tray of drinks the man brought.

The beverages were served in cylindrical straight-sided glass tumblers. At first glance, they appeared to contain clear water, but fine streams of bubbles rose continuously from the bottom of the glass; the glass sides were beaded with condensation. The sight was crystalline and refreshing.

Everyone present came from comfortable households. One glance told them this had been chilled with ice. After the hot boat ride—it was past Duanwu now and the sun was fierce; even riding in a sedan, they'd broken a sweat—a glass of "ice water" arrived at just the right moment. After drinking, every one of them praised it. This "clear water" was not only thoroughly chilled but had a sweet taste with a hint of fruity tartness. Utterly refreshing.

Wu Zhixiang looked puzzled. "This isn't kvass!"

Cai Shi was startled. He didn't know Wu Zhixiang had been a regular at Ziming Pavilion, but he did know that a drink called kvass had been delivered along with this one and was kept in the back. He asked curiously:

"Has this gentleman had kvass before?"

"I've drunk more bottles of kvass than I can count," Wu Zhixiang said with a laugh. "It's more sour than this, with a fragrant aroma. This drink of yours—I assume it also came in glass bottles shipped from Lingao?"

"The gentleman is far-sighted!" Cai Shi heard his unusual accent and guessed he was from Guangdong. "I won't hide it from you gentlemen—this soda is also Australian goods, shipped specially from Guangdong. Our shop keeps it especially for honored guests."

Wen Huai laughed. "Your master is truly extravagant! This ambrosia must be worth a fortune. I fear we'll have to pawn our robes before we're allowed to leave."

Zhang Dai frowned slightly, finding Wen Huai too much of a killjoy—positively uncouth. Given the scale of this bookshop, the owner must be a man of great wealth and status. How could he possibly demand payment for a glass of "soda"? This was thinking like a petty man.

The remark left Cai Shi in an awkward position. He hastened to say, "How could we? This is a bookshop; we sell books."

Seeing the atmosphere had soured, Zhang Dai quickly said, "Since you sell books, what rare and unusual books do you have?"

Cai Shi smiled. "What kind are the gentlemen looking for...?"

Zhang Dai snapped his fan shut. "Something novel and interesting. Don't bring me anything like Mengzi Zhengyi—expounding on the Sages."

Wen Huai, however, said, "I read that yesterday. Not just in our dynasty—among all the commentators on Mencius since the Tang and Song, none comes close to this Master Jiao. Especially the philological work—it can truly be called a magnum opus."

The others weren't particularly interested in philology. They smiled and said nothing. Cai Shi, a servant by origin, was quick to read faces and knew Master Zhang was the key figure. He smiled. "Our shop has books of all kinds. Please wait a moment, gentlemen; I'll go fetch some."

Apart from some books shipped directly from Lingao and some wholesaled from Nanjing and Suzhou, most of the books in Wanbi Bookshop were printed locally in Hangzhou from stereotype plates made in Lingao.

To ensure the Australian books made a strong impression, not only stereotype plates but also Lingao-produced ink and paper had been shipped in. The Planning Commission's instructions to Zhao Yingong were to eventually produce ink and paper locally in Hangzhou. There was no hurry for now—Operation Engine would soon bring plenty of empty northbound tonnage, making shipping anything easy.

The first book printed at Zhou Dongtian's printing house was A Record of Four Continents. This was a book Lin Zexu had organized to translate from an English work called The Encyclopaedia of Geography. It was one of China's more comprehensive introductions to world geography, customs, and society. The Lingao version, however, had been thoroughly revised by the Grand Library's History Department: content not fitting the seventeenth-century context was removed, errors and misunderstandings corrected, and considerable new material added.

The book stereotype plates sent to Hangzhou had been carefully considered. In Jiangnan, where book printing flourished, classical works were nothing special. The Hangzhou printing house wasn't currently pursuing a strategy of market domination through scale and low cost. To attract customers, a culture bookshop needed books with novel, intriguing content and a certain scholarly standard—which made Qing dynasty scholarly works the first choice.