Deposed? I couldn't be happier! I wouldn't even be a dog to the crown prince.

The next morning, the air in the Taiji Hall was not only filled with the lingering fragrance of incense from the previous night, but also with a distinctively pedantic smell characteristic of scholars.

That was the smell that had fermented after thousands of Confucian scholars knelt outside the hall all night.

Li Shimin sat on the dragon throne with huge dark circles under his eyes, listening to the endless "die-hard remonstrances" outside, feeling like his brain was tap-dancing.

These pedantic scholars, they really know how to endure.

"Your Majesty, Kong Yingda is still kneeling outside, saying that if we don't give him an explanation today, he will..." Wang De reported cautiously, his voice extremely low.

"So you're going to run someone over and die?"

Li Shimin waved his hand impatiently, "Let him crash! I want to see if his head is harder than the palace walls!"

Despite saying that, he still felt uneasy.

If a few great Confucian scholars were to be killed in this accident, the historians would write him as a cannibalistic demon.

Just as the entire court of officials were staring at each other in bewilderment, the atmosphere becoming extremely awkward.

"Make way! Make way, everyone!"

"Watch your foot! This thing is incredibly heavy!"

A hoarse voice rang out at the entrance of the hall, and then Cheng Yaojin, that troublemaker, stormed in shirtless, carrying a huge sack.

Behind him, Yuchi Gong, Qin Qiong, and even several civil officials, all carrying large and small bags without any regard for appearances, filed in one after another.

"What are you doing? Moving house?"

Li Shimin was dumbfounded.

Before he could react, Li Chengqian yawned, his dark circles even heavier than Li Shimin's, and swayed as he walked in.

Following behind him were Mo Ju, who was also covered in ink stains but was as excited as if he were on drugs, and a group of craftsmen.

"Good morning, Father."

Li Chengqian weakly cupped his hands in greeting, "Your subject has come to hand in his homework."

"Homework?" Li Shimin was taken aback.

"discharge!"

Li Chengqian didn't explain, he just waved his hand.

"boom--!"

"boom--!"

Dozens of burlap sacks were thrown heavily to the ground, their openings loosened, and their contents poured out with a clatter.

That's a book.

A brand new book, exuding the rich scent of ink.

In an instant, the entire Taiji Hall was filled with this "small mountain" of books. The sound of turning pages was more beautiful than the most melodious music in the world.

The entire court was stunned.

Is this a book?

So many?

"Where...where did you get this?"

Changsun Wuji picked up a book at random, and his hand trembled as soon as he glanced at the cover.

The Analects.

Then look at that pile next to it: Mencius, The Great Learning, The Doctrine of the Mean...

They are all Confucian classics!

"Where else could they have gotten them? They must have been printed."

Li Chengqian found a step to sit down, rubbing his sore shoulders. "I worked overtime all night last night, I'm exhausted."

"Printed?"

Wang Gui, who had been hiding in the corner pretending to be dead, couldn't help but jump out now, his face full of disbelief and mockery.

"Your Highness, are you joking? That's tens of thousands of books! Even if you gathered all the copyists in Chang'an and wrote until their hands broke, they couldn't produce that many in one night!"

"Exactly! I think this is just some cheap toilet paper they've made to fool people."

Several powerful officials also joined in the commotion, refusing to believe that anyone could break the ironclad rule of copying books.

"Whether it's a hoax or not, wouldn't it be clear if we just had someone knowledgeable take a look?"

Li Chengqian was too lazy to waste words with them, so he gestured towards the outside of the hall and said, "Wang De, go and call in that old man Kong who's wailing at the door."

After a while.

Kong Yingda was helped into the main hall.

The old man had been kneeling all night; his knees were swollen, his hair was disheveled, and he looked like he was about to pass away at any moment.

"Your Majesty... if the Crown Prince is not deposed... this old minister... this old minister..."

He was still there, listlessly reciting his lines.

"Alright, alright, stop chanting."

Li Chengqian casually pulled out a copy of the Analects from the mountain of books and stuffed it directly into Kong Yingda's arms.

"Master Kong, you are a descendant of a sage, the ancestor of scholars. Please assess this book; is it readable?"

Kong Yingda instinctively caught the book.

It's very light.

This paper... seems a bit rough, with a faint yellow tinge, unlike the precious Xuan paper.

"Hmph, poorly made..."

Kong Yingda snorted coldly and turned to the first page with a critical eye.

however.

The moment he saw the words on the paper, his originally cloudy old eyes widened instantly, as if someone had choked him hard, and his breath stopped.

The handwriting is neat and the strokes are clear.

Every single character looks as if it were carved from the same mold, with the same size and uniform ink color.

That was the standard "Yan style" calligraphy, dignified and majestic, with an expansive and imposing presence.

Most importantly, the handwriting is not messy like a handwritten copy, nor does it have the broken ink and blurriness common in woodblock printing.

This is like being used to seeing awkward, ugly handwriting and then suddenly seeing a standard document printed out by a printer.

The visual impact was devastating.

"This...this character..."

Kong Yingda's hands began to tremble violently. He turned the page in disbelief, then the page again.

It's exactly the same!

The entire book contains tens of thousands of words, and there isn't a single typo or ink smudge!

He touched the paper again.

Although it looks yellowish, it feels tough, has a uniform thickness, and absorbs ink very well. It doesn't let ink seep through and instead has a pleasant bamboo scent.

"How is this possible? How is this possible?!"

Kong Yingda suddenly raised his head, staring intently at Li Chengqian, his voice trembling like a candle flickering in the wind.

"Your Highness...this...who wrote this?Who created this?"

"Nobody writes."

Li Chengqian shrugged and pointed to Mo Ju, who looked proud, behind him.

"These are typefaces cast from lead blocks, typed, and then printed with ink. As for the paper, it's made from rotten bamboo soaked in water."

"We worked through the night last night and only printed about 100,000 copies. That's not much. We just didn't have enough manpower, otherwise we could have doubled it."

"One hundred thousand...one hundred thousand copies?!"

Kong Yingda felt as if his heart had been struck hard by a sledgehammer.

overnight.

100,000 copies.

These words echoed wildly in his mind, shaking him to the point that his soul seemed to leave his body.

As the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, he knew all too well the value of books. In the past, he would work like a slave for three years to obtain a rare copy.

But now, these books are piled up all over the floor like cabbages.

"The methods of a sage... these are the methods of a sage!"

"Thump!"

Kong Yingda's knees suddenly buckled, and he knelt heavily before Li Chengqian.

This time, it wasn't for remonstrating to the death, nor was it for forcing the emperor to abdicate.

Instead, they prostrated themselves in worship!

"Your Highness! With this technique, the poor families of the world are saved! The literary tradition is saved!"

The old man held the book and cried even harder than he had at the door, his tears and snot soaking the new book.

"This is a divine art to educate all people! Its merit will last for millennia! Its benefit will last for generations!"

"This old minister was blind and foolish before, daring to slander Your Highness! This old minister... this old minister deserves to die!"

Kong Yingda's kneeling caused an uproar among the court officials.

Even the descendants of Confucius knelt down, how could this book be fake?

The faces of the aristocratic officials turned deathly pale instantly, as if their own fathers had died.

Wang Gui shakily picked up a book, flipped through two pages, and then collapsed to the ground as if his spine had been removed.

It’s over.

It's completely over.

The monopoly on knowledge has been broken.

Their prized collection of books instantly became worthless garbage in the face of these exquisite, inexpensive, and mass-producible new books.

Li Shimin rushed down from the dragon throne, grabbed a few books, and touched them with great affection. His smile was even brighter than the peonies blooming in the imperial garden.

"Okay! Okay!"

"Chengqian, what was the cost of this book?"

This is a question that everyone cares about.

If the cost is too high, then it will only be a royal auspicious omen and will not be widely available.

Li Chengqian held up one finger and waved it in front of everyone.

"As always?" Dai Zhou asked tentatively.

Li Chengqian shook his head.

"One hundred coins?" Fang Xuanling asked, his breathing quickening.

Li Chengqian shook his head again.

He walked to the center of the main hall, stepped onto a stack of books, and looked down at the ashen-faced aristocratic officials, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Listen carefully.

"These kinds of books will be clearly priced at the Royal Bookstore from now on."

"Ten coins a book!"

"hiss--!"

In that instant, the gasps of breath inside the Taiji Hall almost sucked all the air out of the hall.

Ten coins?

The money for two meat buns?

Can you really buy a book of sages and saints?

This isn't just being cheap; it's doing charity! This is stripping the aristocratic families of their dignity and stomping on them!

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

Wang Gui roared like a madman, "The paper, ink, and labor alone cost more than this! You're losing money to gain market share! You're disrupting the market!"

"Market chaos?"

Li Chengqian sneered, "I am the market."

"The cost of papermaking is three cents, the cost of printing is two cents, and I sell it for ten coins. I made half a profit with tears in my eyes, so how come I'm losing money?"

"We'll see."

His eyes narrowed, and his voice was as cold as a knife.

"Even if I lose money, I'm happy to do it."

"As long as it leaves you vampires with nowhere to go, as long as it allows all the poor children in the world to afford to go to school."

"This expense is something my Crown Prince can afford!"

"Lord Wang, let's see how you manage the scholars of the land this time!"

"The world has changed...the world has really changed..."

Looking at the mountain of books and the spirited young crown prince, Wang Gui felt a sudden darkness engulf him, and he fainted from exhaustion.

This time, he was truly dizzy.

Because he saw the end of powerful clans slowly descending on the cover of a book.