"Um!"
Ying Wuji nodded, walked straight to the accounting office and knocked on the door. When he heard the sound, he pushed the door open and walked in.
Hua Chao was holding his chin and writing and drawing on a piece of paper, as if he was doing some accounts.
She put down her pen and said with a worried look: "Wuji, are those ink masters all Kato Ying who copied thousands of books every day?"
She has been frowning these days.
After all, she had invested so much money, how could she not worry?
Although Ying Wuji said "copying a thousand books a day" and it didn't seem like he was bluffing, and it seemed like he was busy with these things in the backyard recently, this kind of thing still sounds a bit unreasonable.
She really wanted to see what Ying Wuji was busy with in the backyard, but she also knew that she couldn't cross Ying Wuji's bottom line, so she could only worry.
Ying Wuji grinned: "I guess so! They have all received my true teachings. It will be no problem for them to produce a thousand books a day. Just wait for the inspection tomorrow!"
After spending a few days together, his good impression of this sister worsened.
After all, she is older.
Of course, he was referring to age. Older people are more considerate.
And, it’s not just age, it’s considerate, it’s also pleasing to the eye.
The most important thing is that he is a good person. As long as Ying Wuji has nothing else to do, he will usually stay here.
"real?"
"Sister Hua Chao, don't you believe me?"
"letter……"
Hua Chao was relieved when he heard that he could inspect the goods tomorrow, and asked again: "What do you think is a suitable price for us? If it's too high, I'm afraid we won't be able to steal business from other bookstores."
Ying Wuji held up three fingers: "Three hundred coins!"
"Three hundred coins!"
Hua Chao was shocked. She didn't expect that the price set by Ying Wuji was less than half of the market price. No matter how remote the location was, countless people would come to buy it. After all, this price, even if it was still high for ordinary people, was barely affordable, and the customer base would be larger than she imagined.
But she still realized the problem: "But at 300 wen per copy, I'm afraid we can't even afford to hire a copyist, right?"
Ying Wuji waved his hand: "Don't worry! They only charge ten cents for copying a book!"
"Ten cents! How is that possible?"
"Sister Hua Chao, just trust me!"
Then Ying Wuji explained the profit model to her.
A book was sold for three hundred wen, and normal paper would cost fifty wen, but the paper shop was owned by Ying Wuji, so he could bargain the price down to forty wen. The ink used was of the lowest quality, which cost about twenty wen. The ink maker and printer cost ten wen, and the binder sent by the paper shop cost ten wen.
In this way, the profit will be about 220 wen per book, and a lot of it will be shared with the author. Therefore, false accounts must be made, and the cost of 120 wen will be forcibly calculated to be on Ying Wuji. The reason is that Ying Wuji has mastered the magic of copying a thousand books a day. No matter how outrageous it is, the cost of copying books is much lower than that of others.
In this way, the apparent profit is 100 wen, and 20% is given to the author, which is 20 wen.
On average, the profit from each book was 200 wen, and 30,000 books a month would be 6,000 taels.
"Six thousand taels?"
Hua Chao was stunned.
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