My Years as a Copyist in Taiwan

"Uncle Gao, this must be Mr. Fujino. It's an honor to meet you!" Zhao Wen looked up, handed the origami to Wenwen, and stood up to shake hands with Xiao Nihong.

Wenwen wasn't shy at all when she saw the guest. She politely greeted him with "Hello, Uncle," then grabbed Wenwen's hand, snatched the origami, and the two girls ran off to play in the backyard, giggling. Zhao Wen specifically told them, "Don't climb the ladder," before turning around and leading the three of them into the living room.

The room wasn't very clean. There was a stack of manuscript paper on the desk by the window, and a half-empty cup of tea next to it.

The entire wooden house was filled with the faint sound of a piano. These past few days, Zhao Wen had been breaking in the speakers, which were still in the full-range break-in phase, and the music playing on the speakers was still "Autumn Whispers".

Fujino was also a seasoned classical music enthusiast. When his gaze fell on the entire stereo system against the wall in the living room, his steps unconsciously slowed down by half a beat.

Fujino understands the value of these things all too well—a set of professional HiFi equipment, a heirloom!

A wave of excitement washed over him. This Mr. Snail was no ordinary bestselling author; he was quite something.

"Mr. Snail's equipment is top-notch. I've visited many cultured families in Taiwan, and very few would be willing to use such a setup." Fujino subtly gave Zhao Wen a hand.

Speakers, turntables, amplifiers, cables—these all require proper configuration. Having money but not knowing how to match them just makes you look like a nouveau riche. But if you truly understand these things, experts will genuinely admire you.

"Ha, Mr. Fujino, you flatter me. My setup is not high-end. My sourcing channels are limited, and I really can't buy anything better. The impedance across the entire frequency range is barely compatible, as are the damping coefficients of the preamp and power amp. Otherwise, the high-frequency extension would be smoother."

Zhao Wen invited the three of them to sit down and, in a very pretentious manner, used his top-notch HiFi hardcore professional knowledge to intimidate Xiao Nihong, who already greatly "admired" him.

Zhao Wen not only knew the history of the past few thousand years, but also the process of the past forty years. He understood all too well what kind of race the Japanese were—fearing power but not virtue!

This is true even in the cultural sphere. Therefore, while being polite, Zhao Wen tried his best to subtly convey the message.

Fujino only knew how to look at brands and prices, and could tell good from bad sound quality by sound. He had no interest in delving into deep audiophile terms like phase transition, transient response, and soundstage depth. He immediately stopped praising it blindly and became much more respectful.

"Mr. Snail is so professional, I am ashamed to admit my inferiority."

Editor Gao knew absolutely nothing about this thing, only that it was very expensive.

Shuji Fujino took the contract out of his briefcase, pushed it in front of Zhao Wen, and said sincerely:

"Mr. Snail, the Japanese versions of 'Love Letter' and 'You Are the Apple of My Eye' will be distributed through all channels by Kodansha. We will bear all translation, printing and distribution costs, and royalties will be calculated on a tiered basis. The accounts will be absolutely transparent."

He pointed to the terms in the contract and explained them concisely and clearly in one breath:

"For the first tier, the initial print run is no more than 3 copies. The royalties are calculated at 7% of the book's price. The full amount is prepaid after signing the contract, and this money is non-refundable regardless of whether the books are sold out."

For the second tier, if sales exceed 5 copies, the royalty for the portion exceeding that number will be increased to 8%.

The third tier: if the number of copies sold exceeds 10, the excess will be calculated at 10%.

Settlement is done every six months, with the printing factory's shipping invoice and the bookstore's sales list attached. You can check the accounts at any time. I personally oversee the translation; the final draft will be sent to you for review before finalization, and I will revise it until you are satisfied.

The translation rights for Korean and Southeast Asian works will also be granted to me, with the same royalty rates as above.

The tiered payment options, prepayment rules, and boundaries of rights and responsibilities were all clearly outlined. Zhao Wen picked up the contract and flipped through a couple of pages; the terms were more lenient than he had expected. He nodded: "The terms are fine. I need to review the translated draft for the final approval; this cannot be changed."

"Of course." Fujino Shuji readily agreed, picked up a pen and handed it over, "You sign it, and I'll have the Taipei office make the advance payment right away."

Zhao Wengang had just taken the pen when he heard a muffled thud from the backyard, followed by Wenwen's laughter. He smiled helplessly, got up to see what was happening, and saw Wenwen rushing in from the backyard. She was running so fast that her elbow slammed into the pile of manuscript papers on the desk by the window.

With a clatter, half a foot thick manuscript paper scattered all over the floor, a white expanse spread out. The top cover was flipped over, revealing four neat characters in fountain pen: Spirited Away.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Wenwen and Wenwen, who had caught up with them, quickly squatted down to pick up the paper, their muddy little hands getting the corners of the manuscript dirty.

"Slow down, you two little devils." Zhao Wen grabbed the two girls by the back of their collars and gently placed them aside to prevent them from making things worse.

Shuji Fujino also got up to help tidy up, his gaze sweeping over the words on a page of manuscript paper, subconsciously reading it carefully—

"...After passing through the tunnel, there was a wasteland, and further ahead was a deserted town. The stalls along the street smelled of braised pork, and the tables were full of steaming food. My parents sat down and started eating, saying they would pay the bill when the owner came..."

He straightened up, his gaze fixed on the words, forgetting even the other manuscript papers he was about to pick up.

"Mr. Snail, may I take a look?" he asked, looking up with a hint of pleading in his voice.

"Please feel free to look around," Zhao Wen replied with a smile, continuing to pick up the papers on the ground.

Having received permission, Fujino Shuji didn't stand on ceremony. He stood by the desk, picked up the scattered manuscript papers, arranged them according to page number, and began to flip through them one by one.

He flipped through five or six pages, leaning forward unconsciously, his brows furrowed slightly, his eyes focused.

From Chihiro's accidental entry into the town to Haku leading her through a sea of ​​flowers and teaching her how to beg Yubaba to take her in, he glimpsed a magnificent and beautiful worldview, from the setting of the spirit world to the fantastical structure of the bathhouse!

"Mr. Snail's ingenious concept is truly admirable. If the entire Kodansha organization saw this fantastical subject matter, they would be overjoyed."

After turning the last page, he subconsciously flipped through two more blank pages to make sure it was really over. Then, with a hint of panic, he blurted out, much like a reader who had just finished reading and found an abrupt ending, "What happens next?"

Only after asking the question did he realize that he had lost his composure. He coughed lightly and adjusted his glasses, but the eagerness in his eyes was not hidden at all. In his thirty years in publishing, there had never been a work that had made him so eager to see the ending after reading only half of it.

"It's not finished yet. It will probably take more than a month to finalize the draft." Zhao Wen poured tea for everyone and then took out his cigarette case to offer cigarettes.

Fujino Shuji also smoked, but after entering the house, he was so overwhelmed by the "cultural atmosphere" of the wooden house that he didn't dare ask if he could smoke. He then took the Treasure Island cigarette that Zhao Wen handed him with both hands and took a big drag.

"Mr. Snail, is this book called *Spirited Away*? Please reserve the Japanese version for me too! The conditions are the same as for *Love Letter*, okay? — You don't need to wait until it's finished writing; we can sign a letter of intent now, and the advance payment for all three books will be transferred to you today!"

Fearing Zhao Wen might disagree, he added, "I'll personally oversee the translation. The top children's literature translators in Japan will do it, guaranteeing no words will be missed. I'll have all the bookstores in Japan covered; the distribution will be even more extensive than for 'Love Letter'!"