Zhang Ping sat next to Wei Ci and muttered, "I really don't understand why the people like the stories you write so much?"
Master Yuanjing's disciple was of such a high status, yet this fellow went to write stories from the streets.
It was fine to write, but this fellow liked to whet people's appetites, squeezing out a little bit every day, making people's hearts itch.
They wished they could lock Wei Ci in a small black room, give him a brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and urge him to fill the table with bamboo slips every day.
If he did not fill up, he would not be given food.
"After all, it's for the people to hear. If it's too choppy, they won't understand at all. Rather than that, it's better to use plain words. It's impossible for the people to be interested in content they don't understand. Since it's written for them, it's natural to cater to their habits. It can barely be considered an appreciation for both refined and popular tastes … If the people can understand and listen, then it's considered a success. "
In the eyes of outsiders, Wei Ci's actions were not proper.
In reality, the school of novels was also one of the hundred schools of thought, but it was criticized and looked down upon.
There was a saying in an ancient book, "The school of novels originated from the officials. Street talk was created by hearsay."
In other words, the school of novels recorded the people's street talk and reported it to the higher-ups, but it was seen as unfashionable.
In his previous life, Wei Ci was also prejudiced against it, but Her Majesty strongly promoted the school of novels and even supported a few famous scholars of the school.
Her Majesty's actions provoked opposition and criticism from the imperial censor, but she did not care. Instead, she personally wrote a few books and used facts to slap the imperial censor in the face.
Wei Ci thought about it carefully and realized her deep meaning.
The school of novels was not necessarily unfashionable.
Nowadays, the atmosphere was still rather open-minded. Some things could be done earlier, so there would be less resistance in the future.
Hence, Wei Ci wrote a few short and medium-length novels under the pen name "Layman Zaichi".
He had the plot and the content. The plot was full of ups and downs, continuous and broken chapters that made others want to strangle him.
It was not the Jiang Dynasty now, where novels were still scarce. They were few in number, and the content was difficult. Ordinary people could not understand them at all.
After Wei Ci considered the content and three views of the novel, he diligently got to work.
The first story was about a female ghost who was wronged when she was alive. She was pitied by the gods and returned to the world in three days to avenge herself. The main character was a female.
The second chapter was about a talented scholar and a beautiful lady. The talented scholar was just a bystander while the beautiful lady was a strong man. The main character was a woman.
The third chapter was an inspirational anti-Japanese war novel based on Duke Xu of the previous dynasty. It mixed the character of the lord, and the protagonist was a woman.
Then, the commoners unanimously believed that Layman Zaichi was definitely a cute girl.
Wei Ci, "…"
What was wrong?
In short, under Wei Ci's promotion, a semi-official profession appeared in Wanzhou — a storyteller.
Why was it a semi-official profession?
This was because a storyteller could only have the right to tell stories in the taverns and teahouses in Wanzhou if they had the permission and stamp of the prefecture government. Not only could they receive tips from the people every day, but they could also receive a fixed salary from the prefecture government.
As for those storytellers without a stamp, although they could also find a stall to make a living, the content of their stories could not involve Wei Ci's novels. As for those with improper views, inciting the people, and fooling the world, they were even more forbidden. If they were caught, they would be fined.
Since Wei Ci wanted to use "entertainment to control public opinion," he naturally had to try to regulate this industry.
At first, many storytellers were not willing, but Wei Ci's novels were very popular with the people. Not only did the men like to listen to them, but even the idle women who knitted their sweaters liked them. Ordinary storytellers were not qualified to tell these novels in Wanzhou.
In order to make a living, the storytellers simply took the open road of the prefecture government.
Needless to say, this policy of the prefecture government was very useful.
Not only did it provide the storytellers with the latest and most popular novels, but it also provided a fixed salary.
The storytellers no longer had to worry about how their families would eat if they did not receive any tips one day.
However, Wei Ci was a single person after all. Writing novels was limited to a hobby outside of work. He could not spend too much effort.
After thinking about it, he looked for Cheng Cheng.
"A novelist?" Cheng Cheng frowned. "What do you want a novelist to write about?"
Wei Ci's literary talent was not low. Cheng Cheng really could not figure out why he was going through all this trouble.
Wei Ci had no choice but to explain his plan.
Ever since Cheng Cheng came to Wanzhou, he had been working hard on moveable type printing and engraving printing. He also had to organize a large number of books that needed to be printed. He was very busy. To put it bluntly, Cheng Cheng could be considered an older otaku. He did not work and could not distinguish between the five grains of rice. He did not understand the deeper meaning behind Wei Ci's actions. Wei Ci had no choice but to tear this plan apart and explain it to Cheng Cheng in detail, hoping to get his support.
As Wei Ci expected, Cheng Cheng did not agree at first and was even quite angry.
In Cheng Cheng's opinion, writing books was a very serious matter. It was to educate the people and pass down a legacy for thousands of years. How could it be used for amusement?
As for the novelist, Cheng Cheng also thought that it was a low-class profession.
The paper produced was not used to record the history of civilization, but was instead used to torment these things. Cheng Cheng was so angry with Wei Ci that his beard was about to fly off.
Cheng Cheng scolded Wei Ci harshly. When his anger subsided and Wei Ci explained in detail, Cheng Cheng's attitude slowly softened.
"Is this really as important as you say?"
Cheng Cheng's heart wavered slightly.
Wei Ci sighed and said, "Mr. Cheng, do you think ordinary people can understand the teachings of Confucius and Mencius? Even if you let the storyteller read it all day long, the people would not understand it. If they can't understand it, they will naturally not be interested. Only those that truly fit their current situation can be accepted by them. In my opinion, promoting vernacular books to ordinary people is not blasphemy … Mr. Cheng, please think carefully … "
Cheng Cheng's rationale was biased towards Wei Ci's words, but he still felt a little uncomfortable.
As a last resort, Wei Ci could only take Cheng Cheng to a teahouse. There happened to be a story being told there, and the people below were fascinated by it.
Cheng Cheng looked at it and was silent for a while.
Wei Ci said, "Mr. Cheng talked to them about the teachings of Confucius and Mencius. Almost no one knows, but ask the people about the contents of the book. Even if they only heard it once, they could recite it as if it was their family's treasures. You can think that I'm being too unorthodox, but I still have to say this — Mr. Cheng wants to pass on your family's collection of books and spiritual treasures to future generations, but if the people can't understand it, it can only benefit a few people, and not all future generations. The school of novels is indeed not popular, but times have changed. Mr. Cheng, why don't you watch from the sidelines and wait for a while? "
Cheng Cheng felt a flash of inspiration in his mind, so fast that he almost couldn't catch it.
"Forget it, forget it. I'll find a few for you."
Cheng Cheng looked anxious and agreed to Wei Ci's request.
By the time everything was on the right track, it was already early summer.
The provincial government received news that their lord was already at the border of Wanzhou and would be back in half a month.
Along with this news, Wei Ci also heard about the great victory at Jiamen Pass and the capture of Fu Wang.
"Fu Wang?"
Wei Ci raised his brush and paused. Ink dripped down, forming black dots.
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