Chapter 124: Guangzhou Trip (Part 4)

The future that Xiao Zishan sketched for the Qiwei Escort Bureau amounted to restructuring it into an armed freight company. Late-Ming social order was already crumbling, and long-distance transport without armed escorts had become impossible.

Sun Kecheng sat dumbfounded. Such grand claims—businesses extending everywhere, with bureau routes following in their wake! He didn't have nearly enough martial brothers and disciples for an undertaking of that scope. Even setting aside the question of manpower, how could anyone possibly cultivate relationships with all three factions that dominated the roads: officials, bandits, and local tyrants?

"No problem," Xiao Zishan said, untroubled. "For now, just open one new route—Guangzhou to Haikang and Xuwen."

"Haikang and Xuwen?" Sun Kecheng looked puzzled. Haikang served as Leizhou Prefecture's seat, while Xuwen was merely a subordinate county. Both were remote backwaters by Guangdong standards, their main products limited to salt and sugar. Wealthy households were scarce. The Australian merchants dealt in precious rarities—surely doing business in Leizhou would mean losing money.

"Correct." Xiao Zishan nodded. Opening this route served two purposes. First, it would establish land connections between Hainan and Guangzhou: Bopu Port faced Xuwen's Denglong Point directly across the water. If sea routes were ever blockaded, the transmigrators could cross from Bopu and travel overland via Leizhou to Guangzhou. Second, it would provide access to local sugar. The Leizhou Peninsula's climate and soil were ideal for sugarcane cultivation—sugar mills had operated there since the Han Dynasty. By the Ming Dynasty, both cultivation and production had become highly developed, and around 1700, annual crude sugar output would reach ten thousand tons, mostly for export. Sugar ranked among Ming-Qing China's most profitable overseas trade goods, and the transmigrators couldn't afford to ignore it. Though they currently lacked the capacity to directly control the Leizhou Peninsula, establishing purchasing stations and securing supply chains was entirely feasible.

What Xiao Zishan wanted from the Qiwei Bureau was straightforward: open branch offices in both Haikang and Xuwen within one month. Subsequently, they would establish mule-and-horse inns or cart services at key villages along the routes, forming relay-style transport lines. All funds for establishing the branch offices would come from the transmigrators, with an additional three thousand liang going to Qiwei for recruiting personnel, cultivating relationships with local officials, and covering miscellaneous expenses.

"One month is too tight." Sun Kecheng shook his head repeatedly. "Qiwei has no existing routes in Leizhou—we'll need scouts to blaze trails first. From start to finish, this requires two to three months at minimum."

"Two months, then. But this is urgent." Wu Nanhai had informed him that sugarcane harvest ran from autumn through winter. If routes could be opened in time, they could establish purchasing stations in Leizhou this season. By next spring, they would be mass-exporting white sugar, and the transmigrators' export commodities would be secured.

"That's manageable." Sun Kecheng, however, didn't appear particularly enthusiastic. "Forgive my bluntness, but you gentlemen come from afar. Leizhou is remote wilderness. Doing business there—please, reconsider."

Xiao Zishan found himself unexpectedly touched. In that other timeline, countless people had devoted their cleverness to defrauding investors—polishing others' work as their own, easily bilking billions in taxpayer money. Yet here stood this struggling bureau chief, earnestly urging him to reconsider his investment. Human character truly varied enormously.

"No need for concern—we have our reasons." Xiao Zishan understood that without legitimate justification, these upstanding bureau people couldn't be won over with money alone. Fortunately, sugar purchasing provided a ready excuse. "Leizhou produces sugar, and the Australians have desperate need for sugarcane products. One round trip doubles the capital. We intend to establish purchasing stations there."

Sun Kecheng's expression cleared with sudden understanding. He praised their foresight repeatedly and readily agreed. Xiao Zishan then laid out three requirements: first, quickly recruit personnel and expand the bureau's ranks; second, help locate reliable local shop managers and clerks for opening businesses; and third, establish a regular contact system. Gao Di's martial arts training at the bureau made him ideal for liaison duties. They agreed that Huifu Street and the Bureau would communicate every seven days, with emergencies handled the same day. With arrangements settled, Xiao Zishan handed over bank drafts from Gao Ju, and the partnership was sealed.

Over the following days, Xiao Zishan shuttled between the Qiwei Bureau and the Gao mansion. He required the locals' assistance for countless matters and witnessed firsthand Gao Ju's enormous influence as a Guangzhou merchant. Many issues required nothing more than sending a steward bearing his calling card, and the matter was resolved—more convenient than modern leaders' handwritten notes or phone calls.

Swiftly, Guo Yi and the others completed their baojia registration, formally establishing their legal residency. In reality, household registries and records had long since become defunct in late-Ming Guangzhou, and baojia functioned mainly as a security measure. As for their origins, naturally they couldn't claim Australian merchant status—they were registered as townsmen of the Gao family. With Gao family stewards intervening, the semi-official local wardens dared not delay and processed everything immediately. Xiao Zishan knew these petty officials—whether past or present—were the trickiest sort. At critical moments, they could poison any situation. He immediately produced a generous five-liang tip packet. The recipient beamed and became ever more deferential.

The procurement delegation members—except for a few who stayed to guard the ship—moved into the Huifu Street mansion. After two days of rest, everyone began clamoring to go sightseeing, eager to discover what this seventeenth-century southeastern metropolis actually looked like.

Xiao Zishan knew that blocking them would only breed resentment, but letting them swarm out uncontrolled would certainly cause trouble. These people were too well-nourished, and their behavior didn't match their surroundings. He divided them into groups of five or six, each accompanied by two Qiwei escorts for safety, and every person received one liang of silver and a thousand copper coins as pocket money.

Escort bureaus, owing to their connections in both the underworld and legitimate society, had evolved a unique guarantee system. When underworld figures who had "made friends" with bureaus entered cities for medical treatment, sightseeing, or shopping, it was customary for the bureaus to send escorts as companions—providing good food, drink, and entertainment—then politely escorting them out when finished. One condition applied: visitors couldn't cause trouble while in the city. No crimes; not even visiting brothels or gambling houses, or the escorts would refuse to accompany them. Underworld acquaintances followed this rule. Over time, urban constables and investigators, upon seeing outlaws with escort accompaniment, customarily refrained from questioning or searching them. Xiao Zishan recognized that the transmigrators were far too conspicuous. Groups roaming freely would immediately attract yamen investigators, so escort accompaniment was the far more prudent choice.

Everyone departed in high spirits. Bei Wei took several trainees—also accompanied by escorts—but not for sightseeing. They were surveying Guangzhou's terrain, producing accurate maps of city roads, yamens, granaries, gates, and key facilities. Xiao Zishan, Guo Yi, and several others set out with Liu Gang as their guide, browsing the streets casually while investigating possibilities for future commercial development.

The group changed into local clothing, exited Huifu Street, walked through several alleys, and emerged into the bustling market. Shops lined both sides of the streets, and the prosperity was remarkable. Merchants from all regions had gathered here: Nanjing, Beijing, every province, even foreign countries. Goods ranged from ancient bronzes to fashionable silks, embroideries, cloth, and household items—plus Western-origin chiming clocks and various curiosities. Shops were categorized by trade, each clustering in its own section of street. After breakfast, every thoroughfare thronged with people, and by the si hour—nine to eleven in the morning—the crowds became overwhelming. There were people buying, people gawking, people marveling, and people simply watching other people. They surged back and forth amid laughter and chatter, creating a spectacle more impressive than any film or television drama could capture. Everyone stared spellbound, but the same grim thought occurred to each of them: in less than twenty years, amid the Ming-Qing civil wars, how much of this southeastern metropolis's three centuries of accumulated wealth would go up in flames or be plundered away? How many of these living, working people would become bleached bones? Sighs arose unbidden.

The further they walked, the more crowded it became, and the busier the commerce. Everyone hardly knew where to look. Liu Gang knew the routes intimately—when passages grew too congested, he guided them through side streets. Walking along, Yan Maoda spotted a large jewelry shop beside the street and signaled his interest. Everyone was curious, so they entered to browse.

Inside, the Cantonese proprietor was showing a customer a mirror. That pink plastic frame—Xiao Zishan recognized it instantly. Wasn't this the Wenzhou mirror he had bulk-purchased from wholesale markets? Now it was being sold in jewelry shops.

"This mirror must cost a hundred and fifty liang? Can't you lower the price?"

The merchant answered with extreme deference. "Truly impossible. Even at Gao's shop, you won't find such Crystal Dawn Jade mirrors now. If you want ordinary Black Jade mirrors, those run just a hundred liang. Frankly, even Master Gao doesn't know when more Crystal Color Jade mirrors will arrive! Such rare pink ones—in ten to fifteen days, they'll probably cost two hundred liang."

Clearly, Gao wasn't merely retailing; he was also wholesaling. Clever indeed: as long as Australian merchants kept supplying goods, controlling wholesale distribution covered far more territory than selling from just one shop. Per-unit profit decreased, but total sales volume surged.

The customer examined the mirror again and nodded. "Fine—I'll take it. This mirror is truly remarkable. It reflects so clearly!"

(End of Chapter)