Chapter Twenty-Two: Out of Stock and Reprinting

Zhongzhou Publishing House. Editor-in-chief Xu, who had previously discussed buying out Zhou Xuan’s manuscript at one hundred yuan per thousand characters, and Editor-in-chief Chen were enjoying their morning tea.

Chen sipped his tea and laughed, “Old Xu, do you remember Zhou Xuan’s novel ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’?”

“How could I forget? It’s only been less than a month,” Xu put down his teacup and asked, “What’s happened? Has he found a publisher?”

Chen chuckled, clicking his tongue, “You don’t know? His book is hitting shelves nationwide today.”

Speaking of ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty,’ both Xu and Chen felt a pang of regret. They thought Zhou Xuan was being unreasonable—the price of one hundred yuan per thousand characters was already generous for a newcomer. Yet Zhou Xuan had flatly refused, which bruised their egos.

“Oh?” Xu asked in surprise, “Which publisher picked it up?”

“Xiling!”

“Xiling Publishing House, huh!” Xu laughed, “They’re not even considered first-tier, and their sales channels aren’t as extensive as ours. Who would’ve thought Zhou Xuan would choose Xiling to publish his novel? In my opinion, his judgment isn’t so great.”

“Heh, but Xiling saw something in Zhou Xuan’s novel and offered him at least a five percent royalty. The initial print run is one hundred thousand copies, and they’ve invested hundreds of thousands in nationwide publicity.” Chen exclaimed, though it sounded more like sarcasm, “Quite the bold move!”

“What!”

Xu was astonished, never expecting Xiling Publishing House to be so optimistic about the book, investing such a large sum in promotion. Still, in his mind, the notion that ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ could become a bestseller was impossible.

“Haha, let’s see how this turns out. Wei Xiyue has definitely made a misstep this time, thinking he can break into the bestseller list with a novel that’s innovative yet unconventional—he’s dreaming.” Xu had already sentenced ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ to failure in his heart, believing that selling ten thousand copies would be miraculous.

Chen agreed wholeheartedly, “Absolutely. He used his position as chief editor to force through this publication, with an initial run of a hundred thousand copies. I’d like to see how he recoups those costs.”

“Haha!”

Imagining Wei Xiyue’s impending misfortune, the two couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Wei Xiyue, who single-handedly signed Zhou Xuan’s ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty,’ indeed faced considerable skepticism within the publishing house. Even though meeting Zhou Xuan had convinced the president and others to accept the gamble, the audacious decisions—printing a hundred thousand copies and spending half a million on publicity—had stirred much gossip and pessimism.

One vice president even strongly asserted that Wei Xiyue’s publication was a grave mistake for the company, potentially leading to financial difficulties.

Yet, owing to the president’s trust in Wei Xiyue, no one could touch him for now. But if sales truly faltered, people would undoubtedly seize upon this as ammunition.

Sitting in his office, Wei Xiyue’s calm face betrayed a hint of tension; after all, this was perhaps the biggest decision he had ever made in his life.

The funds invested in ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ had reached a million. For Xiling Publishing House, while not crippling, it consumed a significant portion of their resources. If the book failed, the investment would be lost, and he would bear the consequences.

But recalling Zhou Xuan’s confidence in his novel, Wei Xiyue felt a measure of reassurance. Somehow, faced with Zhou Xuan’s certainty, Wei Xiyue was willing to believe, to trust that he would create a miracle.

As the clock on the wall slowly approached ten o’clock, Wei Xiyue’s mood grew heavier. Bookstores usually opened between nine and ten in the morning, so now, people were able to read and buy ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty.’

How would the sales fare?

Like Wei Xiyue, many across the country were watching Zhou Xuan’s book.

The pen name Zhou Zixuan had finally gained some renown in the world of book publishing.

Just as in Rongcheng’s Xinhua Bookstore, the Book Mansion in the Imperial Capital, the Xinhua Bookstore in Shanghai, the First Bookstore in Zhongzhou, and other such shops were witnessing a sales frenzy for ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty.’ Conversely, in second- and third-tier cities, since it was work hours, few people visited bookstores and sales were minimal.

At this moment, Wan Jinglin, an editor from Xiling Publishing House who had just finished breakfast, arrived at Rongcheng’s Xinhua Bookstore, specifically to observe the sales situation for ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty.’

From his understanding, in large provincial cities, Xinhua Bookstores and book towns had decent foot traffic and stocked plenty—thirty to several dozen copies. In smaller cities and county bookstores, there might be only two or three, or none at all.

Arriving at the Xinhua Bookstore, Wan Jinglin saw a fair number of people browsing. Of course, everyone knew that in book towns, at least half were there just to read, and if half of the rest actually bought books, it would be considered good.

He walked to the new releases display, but to his surprise, ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ was nowhere to be found.

“Damn, did the store not even put the book out for sale?” He muttered inwardly and decided to ask a staff member.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty’ is sold out. We’ve already placed an urgent order for more stock, which should arrive this afternoon. Please come back then,” the staff member replied patiently, placing a cardboard sign on the new releases shelf: “Temporarily out of stock, restocking this afternoon.”

Sold out—Wan Jinglin was utterly astonished. This completely contradicted previous expectations and was a blatant slap in the face to those at the publishing house who had doubted the book.

Thinking of how Wei Xiyue was waiting for news, Wan Jinglin hurried outside to find a public phone and report this tremendous news to the editor-in-chief.

“What? Is that true?” Wei Xiyue could hardly believe what he was hearing: Rongcheng’s Xinhua Bookstore had sold out. If that was happening there, then other major book towns were likely seeing the same situation.

However, distribution reports wouldn’t reach the publishing house until the afternoon or evening. Otherwise, he could already estimate today’s sales for ‘Stories of the Ming Dynasty.’

Wei Xiyue finally felt at ease, and recalling Zhou Xuan’s confidence, he couldn’t help but praise him as a genius.

As more bookstores called distributors for restocks, provincial distributors’ inventories dwindled rapidly. Watching their warehouse stocks fall, they sensed the book was a hit. They immediately called Xiling Publishing House, urging them to reprint urgently.

Upon hearing the news, the president glanced approvingly at Editor-in-chief Wei, and with a bold wave of his hand declared, “Print another three hundred thousand copies!”