Could He Really Be a Genius?

Someone is watching me... Is it one of the Purifiers, or a remnant of that evil cult who was never caught at the sacrificial ritual? The sense of being watched vanished in an instant. Xialuote could not tell whether someone hidden in the dark was staring at her, or whether a passerby had only looked a little longer because of the way she was dressed. But she knew that if she turned her head on a whim, or even began searching about with a purpose, she would at once give away that she had already noticed them. So she made no excessive reaction. She only glanced up at the two-story building along the street, on whose sign the words "Lande'er Printing Plant" could faintly be made out, then called for the maid Laila to follow and walked on toward the Gusitafu carriage waiting a little farther ahead. She had not gone many steps when a hunched figure appeared at the roadside. It was a beggar in a worn gray-brown coat, his hair and beard tangled together so that they hid most of his face. He had been squatting at the foot of the wall. Only when he saw the three of them drawing near from beside the carriage did he brace himself against the wall, rise slowly, and come shuffling over with his back bent. Perhaps he thought a young lady more soft-hearted than the other two gentlemen. In the end he stopped before Xialuote, held out both hands, and begged in a hoarse voice: "May the God of Craftsmen bless you, and may the Blazing Sun shelter you too. Give me a few coppers. I haven't eaten in two days..." As an atheist from another world, Xialuote had never been especially devout in the faith of the Eternal Blazing Sun, and she did not much mind the beggar asking two deities at once for protection. But the thick reek coming off him—sweat, grime, and the smell of a body left unwashed for a long time—struck her full in the face and made her want to draw back on instinct. Yet when she looked at that face, so filthy its original color could barely be told, and at the numb expression that still held a thread of hope, she held down the urge to retreat. If I hadn't transmigrated into Xialuote Suolun, but into one of the commoners who make up the great majority of this world, I might not be living much better than he is... Something stirred in her. Xialuote turned her head slightly and said: "Laila, give him three like." At that, her personal maid took three silver coins the size of a thumb from the small pouch she carried. Each was stamped on the face with the profile of King Luyi VI, and on the reverse with a fleur-de-lis coat of arms. She set them in the beggar's open palms. They were the smallest silver coins in circulation, each worth one-twentieth of a feierjin. Equal to them in value was a thick, heavy one-like copper coin, which respectable nobles seldom used in trade because it was awkward to carry. Three like could buy several loaves of rye bread in Suxite—enough for the beggar to fill his stomach, get his strength back, and find some temporary work that paid promptly, so he might keep himself. He quickly put the silver away, bent low, and thanked the God of Craftsmen, the Eternal Blazing Sun, and the kind young lady before him over and over. Xialuote used the moment to stop where she was and look covertly around her, trying to find the source of that prying gaze. A coachman, porters, a woman passing by, a man leaning against the wall with a pipe... Everyone seemed occupied with their own affairs. No one was obviously staring at her. Only Luosaier, ahead of her, looked over at the sound of the beggar's praise. Strange. Was it only my imagination? I haven't even drunk a potion and gained an extraordinary ability. Where would I get intuition sharp enough to notice a gaze from the side, or even from behind... She muttered it soundlessly, drew her eyes back, and walked toward the two young men. Luosaier had already looked away from the beggar. Gelin Lande'er seemed not to have noticed the little episode at all. He was still caught up in the excitement of soon disposing of his family's old printing plant, and the moment he saw Xialuote approach he put on an eager smile. "Miss Xialuote, you've come at just the right time." He swept off his tricorn with a flourish, bowed, and hurried on. "Luosaier just said that if this printing plant can still run properly, he will persuade Baron Gusitafu to buy it, together with the workers who haven't left!" "I only said it was possible." Luosaier hastened to correct him. Gelin nodded and rushed to continue. "He has a very interesting idea. Use the printing plant to put out cheap handbills at regular intervals, and sell them to the merchants, townspeople, and cafés nearby. They could carry news from the Municipal Hall, notices of shops opening, guild affairs, even announcements from the Church... And of course, if a merchant is willing to pay, his shop's name and a list of his goods can be printed on them too." Gelin Lande'er seems to be using me to pressure Luosaier, counting on a nobleman's wish to show off before a woman and on his habit of saving face, so Luosaier will agree to buy the printing plant... Wait. Isn't this idea of Luosaier's the prototype of a newspaper? The faint smile that had just touched Xialuote's face, the smile of having seen through him, froze there. The thing she feared most had happened after all. In this dull world, which had never issued a popular newspaper and had only a few academic publications and art journals, someone had already reached the threshold of the newspaper! This is far too much of a coincidence. Are those web novels telling the truth—that a transmigrator always has a few buried geniuses close by, who need only a little hint to produce earth-shaking inventions? But if Luosaier invents the newspaper, what am I supposed to do... She drew a deep breath, quickly pressed down that faint, subtle resentment, and let a look of curiosity show, as if the new idea had caught her interest. Weighing her words, she said: "It does sound interesting. In the cafés of Telier, the young gentlemen and ladies have pitifully little to talk about. Apart from a few noble anecdotes that can be discussed in public, there are only romance novels published long ago... If there were a regularly printed... handbill, its contents renewed on a fixed schedule, so they could talk over the latest news from here and there, interesting stories, even serialized novels, it would surely be well liked. Once people like that took the lead in buying and passing it on, it would soon start in cities such as Telier and Suxite and turn into a fashion." She had nearly said "newspaper." Then she remembered that the first newspaper had not yet been born in this world, and that the word had no clear referent, so she held it back. "That is just what I was thinking, and Miss Xialuote has given the scene a concrete shape." Luosaier clapped his hands once and praised her as if he had found a kindred spirit. "But there may be a great many difficulties in carrying it out. To print pages with more words, set more densely, the presses we have now may need to be altered. Gathering news and setting type will take people assigned to the work. Getting the printed handbills out beyond Suxite, and still keeping them timely, will also take channels of its own..." "And a publication permit." Xialuote reminded him. In the Kingdom of Yindisi, any public writing printed on paper was under the control of the royal family or the local government. Only with a publication permit could it be printed and sold. Gelin's father was a silk merchant. He had built the printing plant only to print patterns of silk as references for the weavers he employed, and he had never dealt with publications issued to the public. A trace of blankness showed on Gelin's face. Luosaier, who had already thought of this, nodded without a change of expression. "If Father agrees to invest, he will find a way to settle it. But..." He glanced at Xialuote and went on: "If Baron Suolun is willing to offer some guarantee, I think the matter will go much more smoothly." Is he about to draw me in? Then it wasn't for nothing that I made a point of mentioning the publication permit... Pleasure flickered through Xialuote, but she did not declare herself at once. She pointed at the printing plant beside them and said: "First let's see whether the equipment can still be used. If nothing is wrong with it, I'll do my best to persuade Father." Gelin, beside them, smiled because this printing plant of his family's, which could not be sold at all, had suddenly become much sought after. * * * Leaving Laila by the carriage, Xialuote went in with Luosaier and Gelin. The building did not cover much ground, but its interior was rather involved. Work had already stopped, so there was none of the noise of running machines, nor the shouts of busy workers. Sunlight fell through the narrow windows high above and showed the dust afloat in the air. Several huge metal machines stood on heavy timbers in the center of the workshop, gears and levers bare, with a rough beauty to them. A few workers keeping to a corner recognized Gelin and hurriedly rose and came over. "Good morning, Young Master Lande'er." Gelin nodded and introduced them. "This is Miss Xialuote Suolun, and this is Mr. Luosaier Gusitafu. They've come to see whether this plant still has a chance of being put to use again." At the two noble surnames, the workers grew plainly tense. The man who had been about to step forward and lead the way stopped awkwardly where he was, then ducked his head and drew aside, as if coming even a little closer would give offense. There really is an invisible wall between nobles and commoners in this world... Xialuote sighed inwardly. She had already felt something of the same when her father dealt with the matter of Aidian. Luosaier seemed to notice it too. His brow creased slightly, but he said nothing more. He went with Gelin to the printing press and listened to the introduction. "All of these were commissioned from the Craftsman Church, which designed and made them. They use a new lever system in place of the old screw rods. Two workers can press out a whole page of clear text and pictures... Over there are the matching movable types in the various fonts, and the templates for printing images. Hire compositors, and we can start printing those handbills at any time." Gelin clearly knew his family's property well. As he introduced the huge presses, he kept looking at the two possible buyers beside him, hoping to see satisfaction on their faces. Xialuote knew nothing of printing machinery. From the outside she could only tell that the machines had not truly been left to ruin. The metal was somewhat oily, but there were no broad stretches of rust, and the structures were still whole. Someone had plainly wiped and maintained them at regular intervals. Gelin's father might be anxious to sell, yet he also hoped to get a good price. Of course, if they truly meant to print a newspaper and send it out to other cities, or even the whole kingdom, a few hand-powered presses could never manage it. At most this printing plant could be the start of their "trial issue," a way to test whether the model could earn money. But just as Luosaier said, a great many problems still have to be solved... Compared with me, acting only on impulse, he seems to have been planning this for a long time. Could he really be a genius? Xialuote glanced at Luosaier, who had moved up to the press and was studying the lever system with care, and realized that of the three of them, she was probably the one who would be taking a share by her status as a noble rather than by brains or money. Turning this over, she followed Gelin and Luosaier into the storeroom beside the workshop. Metal movable-type blocks were set out in order there, with ink and paper not yet used up, and the room was full of a strange smell that could not quite be called either fragrant or foul. Just then, the feeling of being watched returned. So they did follow... Xialuote was not surprised. She had come into the printing plant with the two of them not only to see the equipment, but also to learn whether the one trailing her would follow them in. Better a short pain than a long one. At least she now had two young men beside her who had attended military preparatory school, which left her more room to react than when she was alone in a carriage or a bedroom. And who knew how long the Purifiers would keep up their watch? What if they decided the remnants of the evil cult had long since fled, and gave up protecting her in secret? At that thought she quietly drew closer to Luosaier and Gelin and said in a low voice: "Do either of you feel... that someone is following us?" "Following us?" Gelin started, and looked toward the doorway on instinct. "Could it be the workers outside?" Xialuote slowly turned her head. Her eyes passed over the stacks of paper, the shelves, and the half-open door. The gaze was gone again. She was about to look back at the two of them when, at the edge of her sight, a figure suddenly shot out from behind a wooden rack. The person wore a gray coat and moved extremely fast. The right hand held some pointed piece of metal in a reverse grip, and the figure lunged straight at them. "Watch out!"