Chapter 874 - Traditional Printing (Technical Article)
The accompanying shopkeeper enthusiastically guided them through the entire printing process. In one hall, printing workers were busy at their craft. The carved printing blocks were numbered according to the Thousand Character Classic, arranged piece by piece on shelves. Apprentices carried blocks one by one to specialized large worktables, following the numbers called out by the masters. In the center of the hall stood several large water vats filled with ink. Apprentices scooped ink with wooden buckets and carried them to each printing master, ladling the liquid into ink trays.
When printing, the master used a specially-made cylindrical flat-bottomed brush to dip in ink and apply it evenly across the block surface. Then paper was carefully laid over the block, and a brush was used to press the paper lightly. The text or images were thus printed onto the paper in positive form. The paper was lifted from the block and laid on a rack to dry in the shade. The shopkeeper told Zhou Dongtian that a skilled printer could produce 1,500 to 2,000 sheets daily. A well-made printing block could endure ten thousand impressions.
In Zhou Dongtian's view, the woodblock printing process resembled seal carving—just with more characters. The printing process itself was the reverse of seal stamping: with seals, the seal is placed on top and the paper below; woodblock printing's procedure more closely resembled rubbing. But the characters on woodblocks were raised reversed characters, while a typical stone inscription had incised regular characters. Also, in rubbing, ink is applied to the paper; in woodblock printing, ink is applied to the block. Woodblock printing incorporated techniques from seals, rubbings, and textile printing; its invention in China was no coincidence.
If books sold well, then the bookshop's investment in printing was one-time only, and after that, aside from paper, ink, and labor costs, everything was pure profit. If they didn't sell, the money invested in carving blocks was essentially lost. The carved blocks either had to be planed flat for reuse or would simply sleep in the warehouse. Once times became turbulent or a bookshop went bankrupt, vast quantities of printing blocks would end up as firewood. Bookshop owners were very careful about carving new books, ensuring each one would sell.
Thus, how many block plates a bookshop possessed became important capital—especially plates for guaranteed bestsellers. The shopkeeper proudly informed Zhou Dongtian that his establishment stored over ten thousand plates that were "printable year-round," ranking among the highest in Nanjing's bookshop circles.
Zhou Dongtian wasn't impressed. The National Academy in the Southern Song capital had supposedly stored over two hundred thousand plates, which was an impressive number in physical terms. Two hundred thousand blocks stacked up would require an astonishing amount of space, not to mention the labor and materials needed to carve them. But in terms of information content, two hundred thousand plates represented merely two hundred thousand book pages. Calculating at two to three hundred pages per book, that was only about a thousand books. Considering that each page of block-printed books contained fewer characters than modern printed materials, the information content was even less—only about the level of a small institutional library. Even in the late Qing, the Hangzhou government printing bureau stored only about a hundred sixty thousand plates.
A complete Siku Quanshu collected 4,000 types of books—barely enough to match a neighborhood library in a small or medium-sized city. Zhou Dongtian understood that the scale of anything in the handicraft era was inherently small. Even using nineteenth-century technology, the printing industry of this timeline was utterly outmatched.
Zhou Dongtian gazed at the plates piled like mountains in the courtyard, feeling quite moved. China's printing technology had remained stuck on expensive woodblock printing from beginning to end in large-scale application. Publishing was difficult, and books remained scarce and expensive. Many works were lost or forgotten because they never received the chance to be published or reprinted. This couldn't help but be cited as one of the reasons for China's gradual decline relative to the West.
Strolling along, he came to a second hall, which immediately sparked his interest—this was where image blocks were being carved. The shopkeeper explained they were currently carving "portrait illustrations" for use in novels. The bookshop was preparing a new edition of Water Margin.
"This is a 'complete version' that I painstakingly collected—not one of those 'abridged versions' out there," the shopkeeper said with evident pride. "It includes the Three Expeditions!"
Zhou Dongtian wasn't very familiar with Water Margin textual criticism and didn't really understand what "abridged" and "complete" meant. He just murmured sounds of vague agreement. Mei Lin suddenly asked: "Do you print Jin Ping Mei here?" After asking, he somewhat regretted it—wouldn't this affect his image?
"Yes, yes," the shopkeeper replied, finding nothing unusual in the question. "This humble shop has a fellow trade publisher's edition of Newly Carved Illustrated and Annotated Jin Ping Mei for consignment sale. Not only is the carving excellent, but there are also two hundred portrait illustrations in the book. A rare treasure."
When the price was quoted—one tael of silver—it was quite expensive. Mei Lin decided to buy it.
"This book is in classical characters, without even punctuation marks. You really want to buy it to read?" Zhou Dongtian asked while the shopkeeper had stepped away briefly.
"Of course I won't be able to understand it, but collecting a copy means having a precious document for the future—a rare edition!"
After a while, the shopkeeper came trotting back with the book. It was packed in four book cases—quite heavy and substantial. Zhou Dongtian casually pulled out a volume and flipped through a few pages. A rich ink fragrance filled his nose. The paper quality was fine. Both carving and printing were above average. Because water-based ink was used and pages were single-sided, the finished volumes were especially numerous—thirty-six in all.
Each chapter was accompanied by two portrait illustrations. The carving was much better than the posters Zhou Dongtian had seen outside. Some illustrations contained rather explicit content, exquisitely detailed and extremely graphic—very much like an illustrated erotic novel.
If we were publishing this, our illustrations would be a hundred times better, he thought. Just the human figures alone would be far superior. Producing an illustrated erotic manga version of Jin Ping Mei should have a substantial market, right? But if it was original work, that would be too much trouble. He wondered if Japan had ever produced manga on this theme, and if anyone had brought copies.
He suddenly thought of a question and asked: "Who is the author of this book?" Could this historical mystery be resolved in this timeline, not long after the work was published?
"The book is signed 'Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng,' but everyone says it's the work of Master Fengzhou."
Master Fengzhou was Wang Shizhen. This rumor had circulated shortly after the book's publication and remained the most popular theory right up to modern times. This wasn't news to Zhou Dongtian—he was slightly disappointed.
"There are also those who say it was written by a certain eunuch," the shopkeeper lowered his voice, "but that's hard to say."
Zhou Dongtian nodded. Clearly, no definitive answer would be found in this timeline either.
Late Ming morals were quite open; matters of pleasure between men and women weren't considered shameful. Seeing that both gentlemen were quite interested, the shopkeeper immediately brought out a pile of similar novels for their selection. From the famous The Carnal Prayer Mat to the obscure Biography of the Foolish Woman, there were twenty to thirty different titles—some already lost in the old timeline. According to the shopkeeper, these books all sold quite well and were perennial favorites. Zhou Dongtian flipped through several and thought this represented a promising business opportunity. He immediately paid ten taels of silver and bought them all.
The bookshop's owner had made another handsome sale and became even more attentive, answering every question comprehensively. Zhou Dongtian turned his interest back to the woodcarving workshop. He noticed the workers carving illustrations were different from before—they seemed to be carving incomplete patterns. After a moment's thought, he suddenly understood: they were carving blocks for multi-color printing.
Going into the next hall confirmed his suspicion. This was "multi-block color printing."
Woodblock printing generally used only single-color printing. Starting in the Five Dynasties, people began attempting color printing. The technique was to apply several different color inks simultaneously to different parts of a single block, then print onto paper in one impression to produce a colored print. This method was called "single-block multi-color printing." The famous Yangliuqing woodblock prints of Tianjin used this method.
This approach was low in cost and fast, but the printing inks were prone to mixing and bleeding, and the color boundaries were sharp, making images appear stiff.
Starting in the Yuan Dynasty, "multi-block multi-color printing" emerged, also called "register printing." Basically, as many blocks as colors would be carved, each block coated with a different color ink, printed in sequence on the same sheet of paper. Register color printing technology persisted for a very long time; besides printing plants, it was used in textile printing well into the twentieth century.
Nanjing in the Ming Dynasty had already become a center for color register printing. Most bookshops possessed color register printing capability.
Because register printing was considerably more expensive—requiring as many identical blocks as colors—books in the Ming and Qing generally used only vermilion and black in color register printing. Only New Year prints employed more colors.
The illustrations currently being printed at the bookshop used only three colors. But the shopkeeper was already very proud, stating he was "sparing no expense in pursuit of perfection."
Throughout the tour, Zhou Dongtian learned from the shopkeeper that all of Nanjing could print about a thousand types of books, divided into nine categories. Several tens of thousands of craftsmen, clerks, and traders made their living from this industry. Business was quite brisk. Books were sold not only throughout the provinces but also exported extensively—especially to Japan and Korea.
But the best sellers remained "contemporary essay collections"—essentially civil service examination prep books. Despite new compilations being carved every year, such books remained enduringly popular. Zhou and Mei couldn't help but sigh at this.
Cai Yibang, guessing that these two chiefs were so interested in bookshops because they probably intended to open one, took the opportunity to recommend his services. He was a Nanjing native with several poor relatives in this business. He seized this chance to make suggestions to Zhou Dongtian.
Zhou Dongtian thought this wasn't a bad idea. After all, woodblock carving masters were still needed—he had actually come to Nanjing with the intention of recruiting skilled block carvers for the Lingao printing plant, and the Hangzhou printing plant also had needs. He readily agreed and asked Cai Yibang to recruit as many printing workers as possible.
Water Margin has abridged and complete versions. The abridged version heavily cuts content, particularly omitting the campaigns against the Liao, against Tian Hu, and against Fang La.