Chapter 907 – Manga Books

Zhao Yingong smiled with the easy confidence of a man sharing a secret. "What you hold is merely a private indulgence from Australia. Even among the Australians themselves, such things are exceedingly rare. It cost me considerable silver and no small number of favors to obtain just these few copies. I've kept them hidden away for a year or two now. I assure you—there's nothing uncanny about them. They're simply picture albums, nothing more."

Only then did the tension drain from the group. Fear gave way to fascination, appetite and desire reasserting their natural dominion. The two magazines circulated from hand to hand, and none could easily relinquish them. Zhang Dai turned the pages with growing covetousness, half-considering whether to offer his host a price—money was no obstacle for a man of his means—but given Master Zhao's evident opulence, a few taels of silver would hardly tempt him.

At last, with visible reluctance, Zhang Dai set the magazines down. Sun Chun, meanwhile, kept pressing for explanations—how could images so lifelike be transferred onto paper? Zhao Yingong smiled:

"That, I couldn't say. But the Australians once mentioned that the method is described in Elementary Optics—the book Master Zongzi purchased. Though I'm told the explanation is rather crude."

"If this is truly an Australian secret technique, why would they print it plainly in a book?" Zhang Dai frowned, then brightened with a sudden thought. "Tell me, Brother Zhao—do you have any telescopes here?"

"Telescopes?" Zhao Yingong hesitated. Telescope production hadn't yet begun in Lingao—the Planning Commission warehouse already held large stockpiles of them brought from the old timeline: all types and purposes, domestic and imported. Nearly every transmigrator owned one.

Because of this existing inventory, the Science and Technology Department hadn't prioritized telescope manufacturing. Only when the first Ship Preparation Plan was formally launched—and the Navy submitted its optical equipment requirements—did the Department add simple telescope production to the research schedule.

"The Australians aren't selling those. I've heard their telescopes are quite excellent, but I haven't had the opportunity to see one myself."

"A pity." Zhang Dai sighed. "A few days ago, Brother Mizhi lost his telescope on West Lake. I've seen how distraught he's been. I was hoping to find him a replacement."

Zhao Yingong interrupted: "Wait—this Brother Mizhi—could it be Fang Yizhi? Master Fang?"

"Indeed!" said Zhang Dai. "You know him?"

"Is his sobriquet 'Foolish One of Longmian'?"

"The very same."

Zhao Yingong burst out laughing. "How remarkable—so that's what happened."

He recounted how, while boating on West Lake, he'd seen a dragon boat swimmer retrieve a telescope from the lake bottom. When he finished, he dispatched a servant to fetch the instrument.

Zhang Dai recognized it instantly: the Dutch telescope Fang Yizhi had always treasured, now cleaned spotless and undamaged. Overjoyed, he made several deep bows, which Zhao Yingong hastened to return.

"Truly, the affairs of this world are beyond prediction," Zhang Dai said, laughing. "Brother Zhao, you've chosen an auspicious name for your bookshop." He declared on the spot that he would bring Fang Yizhi here soon.

"He's a man who loves writing and scholarship, with an intense interest in the study of natural principles. These curios far surpass anything those Western monks possess. Brother Mizhi will be delighted beyond words."

"As it happens, the science of the telescope is also discussed in Elementary Optics. Someone sufficiently interested could even construct one himself."

Sun Chun chimed in: "Is that so? When Mizhi sees both of these treasures, he'll probably go mad with joy."

"I've long admired Brother Mizhi's reputation. If he comes, I'll be so eager to receive him I'll practically stumble over my own shoes."

This fortuitous interlude strengthened the bond between them considerably. Zhang Dai then asked if he might see a few more magazines.

"I have very few of these secret picture albums. But I do have other Australian picture books that, while not quite so lifelike, are still worth examining."

"Oh? We'd be grateful for the imposition." The group's interest was immediately rekindled.

Zhao Yingong smiled. Of course, he couldn't sell these modern color-printed magazines. Apart from a few H-magazines purchased from someone's luggage years ago to help crack open the Guangzhou market, the Grand Library's physical magazine collection consisted only of those salvaged from Lando's sunken ship. Never mind that magazines served no productive purpose—such color printing was utterly beyond Lingao's current technical capability. These were a finite, irreplaceable resource, classified as Grade 2 controlled materials on the Planning Commission's manifests.

Zhou Dongtian had therefore long since developed products that could be reproduced with this timeline's technology. Zhao Yingong summoned his personal servant Jiying with quiet instructions. Before long, Jiying appeared bearing several book cases, which he arranged upon the long table by the window.

"Gentlemen," Zhao Yingong smiled. "Please, take a look."

Zhang Dai and the others gathered around, barely containing their curiosity. The book cases were crafted from fine wood left in its natural color, with simple designs painted on the lids and titles inscribed: Prison Flower, Rihwa-Lo, Spring-Longing Woman, and Broad Records of Jests.

From the cases themselves and the strange titles, nothing seemed remarkable. With a cryptic smile playing at the corner of his lips, Zhao Yingong opened one case. The books inside opened to the left, their covers simple. Zhang Dai picked one up, leafed through a few pages, and laughed. "What marvelous books! Vivid and alluring!"

Sun Chun's curiosity was piqued; he selected one for himself. At first glance, these weren't the vibrantly colored images that seemed like living people—instead, black line drawings on white.

What was depicted were handsome men and beautiful women, exquisitely rendered. Upon closer inspection, he realized these were scenes of intimate passion between men, drawn with such artistry that even the masters Zhang Hou and Dao Mu would be put to shame.

Fondness for catamites was widespread among late-Ming literati; though Sun Chun didn't share the inclination, he took no offense. He merely marveled at the superb artistry: the figures' movements, their faces, even the acts themselves rendered in minute detail, expressions remarkably lifelike—far more accomplished than the usual shunga albums and "fire-prevention diagrams."

After leafing through several pages, he realized this was no mere collection of erotic plates but a complete story, though the characters and settings were entirely unfamiliar. He laughed. "Even in matters of Longyang, the Australians are peerless!"

Zhang Dai set down Prison Flower. He prided himself on being widely experienced, but these hand-drawn line-art albums from Australia possessed an expressive power he hadn't anticipated—they practically made his blood race. Though certain artistic techniques and character designs took getting used to, the quality was undeniable. Setting aside the exquisite, vivid figures and movements, the story itself was genuinely engaging.

The next volume, Spring-Longing Woman, was a more conventional album of male-female pleasure. At a glance, the art style differed slightly from Prison Flower and Rihwa-Lo, but the richness of plot, the beauty of illustration, and the variety of scenarios were no less impressive.

"Truly extraordinary!" said Sun Chun. Wen Huai, who styled himself a moralist, observed that the first few sets were all erotic albums and turned instead to Broad Records of Jests—surely that would be different.

It wasn't erotic, but it was still a picture book in similar style, its figures comically absurd. Wen Huai had never seen such a Broad Records of Jests. After a few pages, he couldn't help bursting into laughter. "The truly remarkable book is right here!"

The group continued exchanging volumes. In the end, all the sets were sold—at no small price, of course. But Zhao Yingong's true purpose wasn't merely to sell books; it was to cultivate these scholars. He then had exquisitely prepared pastries and candies shipped from Lingao brought out. Everyone departed in high spirits.

After seeing off Zhang Dai and Sun Chun's party, Zhao Yingong remained elated. He hadn't merely connected with Zhang Dai—he'd roped in Fang Yizhi in one stroke. The Restoration Society, a group wielding enormous influence across half of Jiangnan, had opened a small door for him. This would prove of great benefit to his future work.

Returning to the printing workshop in the back, he found Zhou Dongtian instructing apprentices in the essentials of lithographic printing. These apprentices had been recently recruited from Nanjing; their backgrounds in drawing and woodblock carving made them relatively easy to train. Zhou Dongtian wasn't concerned about them learning the techniques and then jumping ship—so long as he controlled the coatings and inks used in lithographic printing, knowing the principles and techniques alone was useless.

The books Zhao Yingong had just sold had been printed by Zhou Dongtian and his team using lithography. As for the source materials: apart from Longyang Cave and Prison Flower, which the Daoist had provided, the rest came from the Grand Library's electronic archives.

Lithographic printing had proven more difficult than anticipated, mainly in producing base coatings, inks, and etching agents. It had taken considerable time to find suitable formulations and substitutes.

There had been debates at the Grand Library over which manga to print. The Library's collection of H-manga was vast and varied, including many with extremely intense content. Because the seventeenth century was an era without the concept of human rights, most of those manga were ultimately rejected. Only the relatively wholesome, mildly erotic ones with normal H-content were selected.

The chosen source materials had been edited by transmigrators from the Grand Library to ensure there was no inappropriate content—the story settings were entirely fictional. Modern-style works could pass as Australian tales. Zhou Dongtian had originally planned to pirate Cai Zhizhong's entire series, but someone pointed out that manga touching on Confucian matters shouldn't be printed yet—works involving the Analects and other Confucian classics might attract trouble from pedantic moralists. With Yin Gong operating abroad, less trouble was better than more; best not to sell them at all.

What Zhou Dongtian was now teaching his apprentices to draw was another Cai Zhizhong manga: Zen Speaks. He knew that once he left, printing quality would likely decline, so he wanted to produce as many books as possible for Old Zhao while he was still here. He'd even considered whether to convert the manga to woodblock printing—after all, lithography had very limited print runs.

"Are you sure there's no problem with the Condor Heroes trilogy you sold to Zhang Dai?" Zhou Dongtian asked with a laugh when Zhao Yingong entered.

"The Grand Library's Truth Office reviewed it. Zhu Yuanzhang was changed to Chen Youliang, Chen Youliang to Fang Guozhen, and Chang Yuchun to Zhang Dingbian. That shouldn't run afoul of any taboos, surely?"

"There are still issues. The connection between the Ming Cult and the Ming dynasty—I suspect the Great Ming wouldn't be too happy to see that publicized."