The old man's back was bent as he clutched a handwoven rattan bag. Inside it rested a small wooden box. Among the lower and middle classes, such wooden boxes were commonly used to store food.
Was it effective? Not entirely. Wood could not prevent food from decaying unless the box was fitted with an ice crystal. Yet such crystals were prohibitively expensive; one would have to labor relentlessly for at least two full years to afford a single piece. Zhang Xuan refused to squander his earnings on such an item.
Instead, he chose to invest in modest improvements for his coffee shop: a simple coffee machine, a few basic tools, and the remainder saved as an emergency fund.
His fragile frame betrayed the passage of age creeping toward its twilight. In his right hand, he held a manuscript once rejected. Fortunately, paper was no longer the rarity it used to be.
In earlier times, paper had been produced only in the Southern Continent, the land of people with dark hair and slightly flat noses. Though their stature was not tall, they surpassed all others in paper production. Their homeland's natural beauty had long been a marvel in itself.
Eighty-seven years ago, large-scale paper production began. Distribution was carried out using colossal wooden ships, nearly one hundred and sixty-six meters in length, powered by wind-type magic stones. To reduce costs, paper factories collaborated with shipping companies: the ships would dock at several ports to take on additional cargo or passengers along the way.
Paper was then distributed to three of the twelve continents. Yet the Mo Xuan Paper Factory produced only limited quantities, making paper exceedingly scarce. Its price soared, valued as high as a small piece of gold.
Kings outside the three main continents were forced to pay even greater costs, not only for the paper itself but also for its transport. Thus, paper became a symbol of importance, not merely because of its price, but because of its function as a medium for writing and preserving history.
Fortune shifted a few decades later when the Dandelion Guild acquired several abandoned dungeons. From within, they unearthed hundreds, if not thousands, of crystals and magic stones. Previously, the Violet Merchant Guild held a monopoly on selling such stones to governments and enterprises alike, including paper mills and shipping services.
Their prices were exorbitant, choking both paper production and transport. But just as the crisis reached its peak, the Dandelion Guild began selling crystals and magic stones at thirty percent less than the Violet Guild's price.
The news spread swiftly across all twelve continents. Kings, emperors, and merchants alike welcomed it with great enthusiasm. With magic stones now evenly distributed, the Mo Xuan Paper Factory rapidly increased its production capacity. Transportation flourished as well, with fares for both goods and passengers dropping dramatically.
The economy stabilized, logistics resumed, and even those living outside the three main continents reaped the benefits. Zhang Xuan was among them. Paper was no longer seen as a luxury but had become commonplace.
He exhaled a long, steady breath, his gaze fixed ahead with quiet resolve. His steps were slow, and the tips of his beloved leather shoes were frayed.
The walk back to his coffee shop took more than two hours. From time to time, he paused to rest his weary legs, no longer as strong as they once were.
At last, the weathered wooden door creaked open. The fragrance of coffee greeted him, filling the room with warmth. The corners of Zhang Xuan's lips curved into a faint smile. He bent down, slipped off his leather shoes one by one, and placed them gently upon the simple wooden rack.