Datang: My Peerless Talent Has Been Exposed

"We won't be able to live a good life for a few days, right? If it weren't for your father and I being friends with Lao Zhang back then, the shopkeeper Xiao Zhang could take care of our family? One way to earn two hundred, such a good thing, are you fucking lazy?"

"Isn't I working so hard to earn money for you and your elder brother to marry a wife? Get up and work for me!"

When Lao Zhu said one kick, his voice was loud and his feet were heavy, which completely woke up the second child of the Zhu family and fell asleep.

This is not just the situation of his family, the whole Yongping Square has completely become a primitive assembly line factory under Zhang Nuo's intentional or unintentional arrangement.

Those who produce iron sheets, those who make coal stoves, kettles, iron drums, and a large group of lotus root coals, the entire industrial chain has continuously supplied the needs of the entire Chang'an during the past half month.

Lao Zhu's craftsmanship is good, and each stove is almost exactly the same, so Zhang Nuo issued a seal carved by himself. As long as the stove is produced by him, he will put a trademark on it and put it in the restaurants he just opened in Dongshi and Xishi. sold here.

Others can also sell stoves, but without the imprint of this circle sheet, they can only sell for less than [-] yuan.

But here, Zhang Nuo directly placed an order with Lao Zhu, [-] coins each, and sold it for [-] yuan after resale. Not to mention the [-] yuan earned, the supply was in short supply, so others believed him.

The officials of Yongpingfang are also full of red faces recently, and they look at people through their nostrils when they walk all day long. There is no way, it is so beautiful!

Every day, wagons from various houses came here waiting to buy coal and stoves. The hustle and bustle and endless stream made Lao He feel that he was not in Yongping Square but looking at the gate of the palace.

During the recent period, Yongping Square is considered the most lively market in Chang'an.

Not only are the stoves and chimneys convenient and easy to use, but there is also a large stretch of Zhangji Distillery in the depths of Fangshi.

There are no craftsmen in the market, and those who have hands and legs that can move, almost all go to work in wineries.

Every day, cartloads of food were sent to the wine shop in a steady stream, and then the cartloads of fine wine were sent directly to the restaurants in Dongxi City, where they were exchanged for strings of copper coins.

There are also Hu merchants from the Western Regions and peddlers running to the south, who come to the door of the winery to wait every day as soon as the market opens, thinking of pulling a few carts of "Zhang Jiqiugui Wine" to sell.

Everyone knows that this wine is good, as long as it can be bought, it can be sold to make money, which makes the originally silent Yongping Square even more lively.

Recently, Lao He has told all the households that outsiders are not allowed to enter Fangshi. If they want to buy wine, stoves or coal, there is a special place at the entrance of Fangshi, and no one is allowed to enter inside.

Those who visit relatives have to register, and then arrange to go to inns in other Fangshi under supervision.

Now the market is full of treasures, and the craftsmanship of this stove can be passed down from family to family, not to mention the fine wine that can pour people down from a bottle.

A few days ago, a few bums who were hanging out on the street sneakily wanted to play Qiufeng, and even wanted to moles the head wife of the shopkeeper Xiaozhang's house, but it turned out that the housekeeper of Zhang's house yelled on Fangshi Street.

Good fellows, the guys holding hammers, sticks, kitchen knives, and hoes chased straight out two streets, abruptly interrupting a few gangsters who claimed to be running rampant in the West Market. leg.

It doesn't matter if the government comes, these bad people are used to the world, after asking a few words about the situation, they don't care about the broken legs, and dragged them away by the collar of their clothes.

After this battle, the reputation of Yongpingfang became more and more famous, and Lao He walked more and more arrogantly. It was almost not the nostrils that judged people, but the nostrils that judged the sky. I don't know if the neck can bear it.

Zhang Nuo originally just wanted to improve his living conditions, but abruptly created the most primitive closed industrial park in Chang'an during the Tang Dynasty.

Zhang Nuo thought about it and didn't stop it. People are profit-seeking, and on the premise of knowing that something makes money, the kind of enthusiasm that burst out can burn everything.

Zhang Nuo is just taking advantage of the situation. Anyway, the restaurant business is good. The first floor sells wine and some groceries, and the backyard and upstairs drink and eat. As long as the business is good and there is money to be made, he doesn't mind selling goods for the neighbors, so he will charge a small difference. , is enough for his recent prodigal fortune.

Anyway, business has been going well recently, and he doesn't have to worry about selling anything. The real thing is making money every day, which gives Zhang Nuo infinite courage, or how can you say that money is a man's courage.

With a rich family background, Zhang Nuo began to think about a new type of business.

Chapter 57

Zhang Nuo's new business is very simple, but very difficult to do, that is, paper making and book selling.

For Zhang Nuo, who is familiar with simple papermaking techniques, he originally wanted to get some straw paper to wipe his butt, but he never thought about it. The paper he made in the end seemed to be not much worse than the current rice paper.

Zhang Nuo, who discovered the business opportunity, decided to set up another paper-making workshop in Yongpingfang without doing anything else.

He also figured it out, and when the technical and stable production comes up, he will go to build a farm outside the city, and then it will not be an industrial park, but a real industrial area.

The paper was produced by mistake, but it was troublesome when it came to printing. Printing with movable type was easy.

The key is how to find the right ink, Zhang Nuo has been tossing for more than a week without success.

Either it is too light, and the handwriting on the printed book is not clear, or it is too thick, and it is too dark to look good.

At the same time, factors such as ease of use, easy deployment, and convenience for mass production must also be considered, so Zhang Nuo's body is full of ink fragrance wherever he goes recently, and his two paws have never seen the color of flesh.

Those who didn't know thought he was a cultural person who was obsessed with studying, but they didn't know that he was a black-hearted businessman who was only thinking about earning money from scholars.

On this day, Zhang Nuo finally basically got the ink done, and excitedly ran to Yongpingfang, and started printing the first book directly in the printing workshop that had already been prepared.

Zhang Nuo, a stinky and shameless person, naturally wouldn't let go of this opportunity to make himself famous. Not only did he write the "Zhang Style" one by one, but even the first book was "Zhang Nuo's Anthology of Poetry".

Zhang Nuo chose [-] poems with ease, matched them with blue-dyed cardboard specially used for writing greeting cards, and sold them out for a hundred cash each.

As for the best-selling classics such as the Analects of Confucius, The Doctrine of the Mean, and Daxue, they are simply opened to death.

Zhang Nuo gave the newly recruited manager of the bookstore, Lao Zhao, a death order. If he can't read all the books within three days, each with [-] copies, Lao Zhao doesn't have to do it.

Lao Zhao, who was forced into a corner by Zhang Nuo, sent away Zhang Nuo with a full set of new books with a smile on his front foot, and then began to curse people in the study with his voice open. Think relaxed posture.

Zhang Nuo was half lying on his carriage, with a thick mattress under his body, which not only kept him warm, but also filtered out the bumps when the carriage creaked and rolled over the green brick road.

At this moment, Zhang Nuo looked through the few books he had produced with satisfaction, needless to say his face was full of complacency.

Perhaps compared to the exquisite packaging and white paper of later generations, the printed matter produced by Zhang Nuo at this time is still rough, but compared to the hard-to-find book on the market, there are a lot of typos and omissions. Books, produced by Zhang Nuo's family, can be regarded as family heirlooms in this day and age.

However, the current few books alone are not enough, and they can be used to sell them in the early stage, but Zhang Nuo always feels that if a bookstore does not produce thousands of different books, it will be a bit embarrassing.

Therefore, Zhang Nuo, who was still immersed in the joy of printing the first book, turned around and began to frown again, thinking about what else to sell.

Hongyu leaned against Zhang Nuo's arms, flipping through her husband's collection of poems with a smile on her face, while looking up at her husband from time to time.