Chapter 599 - Lin Quan'an's New Business
At this rate, he could only resign himself to being a shopkeeper at the East Gate Market, selling northern and southern goods from the mainland. Of course, the comfortable life of a prosperous merchant wouldn't be bad. But for someone as ambitious as Lin Quan'an, how could he content himself with such modest circumstances?
Business demanded innovation and adaptation.
Just as he was mulling this over, someone walked into the counting room. Lin Quan'an opened his eyes and recognized his neighbor and tenant, Lin Li. Like him, Lin Li was a "Fulao"—a Fujian person—from the same village, with some distant family connection. They'd once arrived in Lingao on the same boat to seek their fortunes. The several dozen mu of orchard land and paddy fields that Lin Quan'an had purchased in the countryside were now rented to Lin Li.
In the past, Lin Li had been a peddler with a carrying pole, just like Lin Quan'an himself. After Lin Quan'an's successful dealings with the Australians, quite a few adventurous peddlers had followed in his footsteps, collecting vegetables, pigs, and sheep for the newcomers. But after earning a modest sum, Lin Li had bought over twenty mu of rice paddies, built a house, and brought his wife and family to Lingao to live off farming.
With his whole family depending on just a dozen or so mu of land, life naturally ran tight. After Lin Quan'an prospered, he'd simply rented his orchard land to Lin Li as well.
Lin Li made a bow. He carried a basket in his hand, inside which were eggs carefully wrapped in rice straw rope. Two chickens, their legs bound, struggled on the ground beside him.
"Is that you, Old Lin?" Lin Quan'an said amiably. Lin Li was his old comrade; though he'd later given up trade to farm, they were still friends from their humble days. "How have you been? Spring treating you well?"
"Good, good—thanks to your blessing, Master." Lin Li regarded this "master" before him with a mixture of envy and regret. Three years ago, this master had been just like him: wearing local cotton clothes with thick patches on the shoulders, wearing someone else's discarded straw hat, carrying goods on a pole for dozens of li to sell from village to village, buying local products. Less than three years later, their positions had become as different as clouds and mud.
If he hadn't bought land and built a house back then, if he'd continued peddling alongside his old friend, his family fortune would probably have grown to a respectable size. At least his old comrade still gave him some face—not only renting the orchard to him, but aside from requiring daily firewood, vegetables, chickens, ducks, and rice, charging barely any other rent. Life could still be cobbled together.
Thinking of this, he sighed silently. He'd been foolish back then, always convinced the Australians wouldn't stay long, that the sensible thing was to earn some money, buy land, build a house. He never imagined the Australians' enterprise would grow and grow.
Lin Quan'an knew what he was thinking. He coughed once, expressed his thanks, and got down to business.
"Are the laborers all ready? Can we finish in three nights?"
"Everything is ready. We have enough laborers—myself, my wife, and my eldest son. He's fourteen this year and can handle the work." He blinked. "Master, are you really going to do this?"
"Of course," Lin Quan'an said, polite yet warm. "Better safe than sorry. The situation in Lingao isn't entirely clear yet."
He added: "Work at night, not during the day."
"During the day, there's not a soul walking near my courtyard—it's very remote!"
"Better to be careful," Lin Quan'an said.
What Lin Quan'an had ordered Lin Li to prepare was the digging of a cellar at his courtyard. Naturally, this cellar wasn't for hiding gold and silver—Lin Li hadn't yet earned that level of trust. What he would store there was dried grain, pickled vegetables, and salted meat: ten shi of rice, a jar of pickles, and several cured pig legs. Enough provisions to last several months.
Besides Lin Li's place, he'd made similar arrangements at several other locations—all in case the imperial army came to attack and the whole county fell into chaos. He'd have somewhere to hide.
Lin Quan'an figured that given the Australians' strength, the imperial army probably couldn't win. But once the war reached a stalemate, life for commoners would become very difficult. Someone as wealthy as him would certainly become a target for various factions. If Lingao descended into chaos, he'd take his family and hide at these locations, surviving on these supplies for a few months until the situation clarified before re-emerging.
As for his large fortune, he'd already identified suitable places for it—at the first sign of trouble, it could vanish without a trace.
Over these years, he'd quietly bought several hundred mu of land in neighboring counties, all now rented out to tenants. If things truly became impossible in Lingao, he could flee to a neighboring county and at least become a small landlord.
In short, Lin Quan'an was executing a strategy of "the cunning hare has three burrows."
After seeing Lin Li off, Lin Quan'an began to consider another matter. The previous night, Chief Xiong had suddenly arrived at the East Gate Market Merchant Association and asked for him by name.
With Chief Xiong was another important chief who introduced himself as Bureau Director Jiang. Lin Quan'an had come to understand the Australian bureaucratic system somewhat. He knew the highest were called Executive Committee members, followed by People's Commissioners or Ministers. Those called Bureau Directors or Chiefs ranked slightly below. Chiefs without titles were ordinary citizens—though the Australians had a nicer term for it: "transmigrators"—even though they were neither old nor particularly rotund.
Jiang Shan inquired about his business situation, asked if he had any difficulties, whether there was anything he needed help with. Lin Quan'an discussed his recent circumstances—he'd been built up by the Australians from nothing, and he firmly believed he still had value to them. Otherwise there would have been no need to come speak with him like this.
"Doing business on Hainan Island—how large can the market be?" Bureau Director Jiang said. "The mainland is where the real opportunities lie."
Bureau Director Jiang then proposed a rather enticing idea: the Australians intended to support him in doing business on the mainland, opening establishments there. They would provide him with all manner of preferential treatment in terms of capital and goods. They might even secure official backing for him. The condition was that he must completely follow the Australians' direction.
Lin Quan'an was bewildered by this request. Making money in business was of course desirable, but why did he need to be the one to front it? He had no power or influence on the mainland—if he did, he wouldn't have left his family behind to come to Lingao as a migrant laborer.
"We aren't Ming Dynasty subjects. Our appearance and speech are quite different. If you come forward, it avoids considerable trouble," Jiang Shan explained.
This explanation was reasonable, yet Lin Quan'an sensed things weren't quite so simple.
The business Jiang Shan proposed he front was a Northern and Southern Goods Trading Firm—in the Ming Dynasty commercial sphere, this was major enterprise. Not only did it require large amounts of working capital to purchase goods throughout the year, but it also demanded transporting various local specialties north and south annually. It involved extensive dealings with porters' guilds, shipping lines, coaching inns, and escort agencies. Only merchants of considerable capability and skill could manage it.
Naturally, the profits were also high. Northern and southern goods were a "two-way profit"—the principle was never to travel empty. Carry southern goods northward, sell northern goods in the south; one trip meant double the profit.
Lin Quan'an's business had expanded over these years, and his horizons had broadened considerably. He'd learned about various trades. He estimated that to run a northern and southern goods business, an investment of at least fifty thousand taels of silver would be needed.
Silver—he could certainly raise it, but that would be almost his entire fortune. If the venture failed, staging a comeback would prove difficult. Lin Quan'an knew he was a product of "times make the hero"—he'd simply seized an opportunity and used it well. If he failed this time, whether he could find such a favorable opportunity again remained very uncertain.
Jiang Shan hadn't asked for an answer right then, just asked him to go home and "think it over."
"I'll come to call on you tomorrow," Chief Jiang said with a smile. "I'm sure Shopkeeper Lin won't pass up such a good opportunity."
If he agreed, the opportunity was indeed excellent. He'd originally wanted to go to the mainland but feared having no power to rely on. Now with the Australians' support, that worry was considerably reduced. It was just—how long could the Australians really stay in Lingao?
He'd tossed and turned in bed all night thinking about this but still hadn't made up his mind.
Lin Quan'an was no longer the Lin Quan'an of old. In the past, he'd been a lone bachelor with nothing to lose, fearing nothing. Now he had a family and an estate; he'd begun to think twice before acting.
"Do it!" He finally made up his mind.
If he hadn't risked everything back then by carrying a load of vegetables to Bairren Rapids to sell, by guiding the Australians to Gou Family Manor, how could he have today's fortune? Lin Li had also done business with the Australians back then—but he'd quit while he was ahead. Now he'd been reduced to a tenant, scraping by on Lin Quan'an's leftovers.
If he didn't seize this opportunity, he'd just end up being a more comfortable version of Lin Li!
Having made up his mind, he sent someone to the Cooperative Restaurant to reserve a banquet, awaiting Bureau Director Jiang's arrival to discuss business.
Unexpectedly, more than just Jiang Shan came that afternoon. His old acquaintance Xiong Buyu, along with another transmigrator he didn't recognize—who introduced himself as Si Kaide—came as well.
They seemed to have known he would certainly agree to this commercial venture.
"Three years ago, when we'd just arrived in Lingao, we were red-browed, green-bearded man-eating monsters. Yet you dared to bring a load of vegetables right to our doorstep to sell. Surely you're not afraid to do business on the mainland now?" Xiong Buyu said with a laugh.
Negotiations proceeded very smoothly. Both sides agreed to jointly establish a new firm called "Wanyou"—"All-Possessing." The headquarters wouldn't be in Lingao; the specific location was to be determined. They would use the convenience of the canal to ship northern and southern goods.
Wanyou's capital was set at one hundred thousand taels, calculated in silver. Lin Quan'an would invest fifty thousand taels for forty-five percent of the shares. The Australians would invest fifty thousand taels for fifty-one percent—the extra six percent was compensation for the various logistical and security support the transmigrator collective would provide. The remaining four percent would be "company shares," with the profits used for employee welfare and entertainment expenses.
Both sides agreed that all investment funds would be deposited into a company account opened at Delong Bank within one month. From then on, all monetary transactions would go through Delong bills. This method was both convenient and secure. But from the transmigrator collective's perspective, it amounted to recouping fifty thousand taels of silver in one go at no cost. As for the collective's investment, it was merely a matter of shifting figures on paper.
Regarding management, Lin Quan'an would serve as managing proprietor, and a transmigrator would serve as chief manager. Personnel and financial authority would rest with the transmigrator. Lin Quan'an understood he was probably just being enshrined as a figurehead in this business—he'd likely just need to come forward for entertainment and socializing. So he didn't argue much about this. After all, the Australians were at least as good at making money as he was, if not better. Moreover, they'd promised him "guaranteed principal with profit sharing." If the business suffered losses, he simply wouldn't receive dividends—his principal would be fully protected. If there were profits, they'd be distributed proportionally. The worst outcome would merely be losing a few years of interest—and there wasn't really anywhere in Lingao for him to lend money at interest anyway.
Both sides drafted a memorandum. Then they agreed to formally sign and notarize the agreement three days later—this commercial practice was currently being promoted throughout Lingao.
"We don't know anything about the northern and southern goods business. Does Shopkeeper Lin have any insights?" Si Kaide asked. As a member of the Colonial and Trade Department, he was far more enthusiastic about this matter than the Intelligence Bureau.
"The northern and southern goods business is very profitable," Lin Quan'an said. "But I don't know much about it either. I've only heard people talk."
Lin Quan'an's idea was to establish Wanyou's headquarters in Yangzhou, then set up branches in Nanjing, the capital, Suzhou, and Hangzhou.
Setting up headquarters in Yangzhou was convenient for transport. The profit in northern and southern goods came from regional price differences—and these differences were enormous. Dried bamboo shoots from Fujian cost only a few qian of silver for a whole basket locally; transported to the capital, they fetched several qian per jin. Dongting red oranges from Suzhou, tangerines from Fuzhou—during harvest season, there were so many they could only be dumped, but transported north they became precious southern fruits. Sea cucumbers and shark fins cost only a few fen of silver in Shandong; transported to Jiangnan or the capital, they became delicacies...
But large-scale north-south transport of goods had always relied either on mule carts or the canal. Specifically, it meant using tribute grain boats. Each year, the tribute boats traveling upstream with grain were allowed to carry private goods for the boat soldiers. As for the downstream return when they were empty, carrying goods was an even more important source of income for the boat soldiers.
Yangzhou was an important port where north and south met on the canal. Setting up headquarters here meant that whether shipping northern goods southward or southern goods northward, they could conveniently arrange transport with tribute boats, while remittances and letters could be sent along with the boats—extremely convenient.
As for the four branch locations—first, these were all commercially prosperous gathering points for goods. Not only was transportation convenient, but the residents had high consumption levels, making them ideal for retail storefronts, whether for individual or wholesale sales. Second, they could station buyers there or dispatch personnel to purchase local products. Take Hangzhou, for example—not only could they purchase the various local products of the two Zhejiang provinces nearby, but from there they could also take the Hui-Hang route deep into the mountains of southern Anhui to purchase tea, dried bamboo shoots, and various mountain goods. They could also travel directly to Fujian to purchase its various local specialties.
"Why not use sea transport?"
Lin Quan'an was taken aback. Shipping by sea from Jiangnan to the capital—he'd never considered that. After all, the flow of materials and people between these two places had always moved by the canal.
"I don't know about that either," Lin Quan'an shook his head. "I've only heard that sea transport is dangerous. If you hit storms and your cargo sinks, you're bankrupt in an instant. People prefer tribute boats—even if a few sink along the way, it's not a total loss."
"Tribute boats are very slow."
"Yes! Not only are tribute boats slow, but there are many abuses along the way," Lin Quan'an said. He'd heard plenty of stories about schemes on the canal. From the moment goods were loaded, there was all manner of extortion, theft, and customary fees. All along the way, countless people "ate off the water."
"But for merchants shipping goods, once it's handed to the boat soldiers, that's the end of it. All the dealings along the way are their business. It just costs a few more qian in shipping fees."
"This is all about money," Si Kaide thought. If they could shift freight from Jiangnan to the capital onto sea transport and capture a portion of the canal's goods transport business, not only could the transmigrator collective make substantial profits, they could also develop a fleet spanning north and south. When the military needed to move by sea in the future, they'd have ready-made ships and sailors, and the routes could be scouted in advance.
This meant the best place for headquarters would actually be Shanghai.
Shanghai was the junction between China's northern and southern sea routes. Ships leaving port could easily head north to Tianjin and Liaodong, or south to Guangdong and Fujian, or penetrate inland. The location was extremely convenient.
Going upriver from Shanghai along the Yangtze, one could easily reach China's main grain-producing region, the Huguang area. Seizing this golden waterway would allow them to use the Yangtze as a transportation hub, penetrating both banks, continuously absorbing the region's abundant products and human resources while selling large quantities of goods.
...
If the transmigrator collective wanted to engage in Japan trade, departing from Shanghai would also be more convenient than from the Jin-Xia area dominated by Zheng Zhilong.
The goods Zheng Zhilong shipped to Japan were primarily raw silk and silk products, followed by cloth, daily necessities, and medicinal materials. All these products were produced in abundance in the Jiangnan region. Purchasing nearby and shipping from nearby meant transportation costs would be lower than Zheng Zhilong's operation, confined as he was to just Fujian...
Actually, Si Kaide was also contemplating the idea of shipping tribute grain by sea for the Ming Dynasty. Several million shi of tribute grain were shipped from Jiangnan every year—if they could take on that contract, the freight income alone would be enormous.
But this idea was too ambitious. It probably couldn't be accomplished anytime soon.
With discussions concluded, each side went to make preparations. Lin Quan'an then made a request: if he was to relocate to the headquarters, he'd need to bring one wife or concubine and her children. His other family members could remain in Lingao.
Jiang Shan naturally agreed—it was a reasonable request. What he didn't know was that Lin Quan'an was also calculating that this opportunity would let him relocate some of his family and property—still executing his "cunning hare's three burrows" strategy.
"It's a pity your sons are too young. Otherwise they could serve as your assistants." Jiang Shan had no idea what was going through his mind.
"I will depend on the chiefs' future patronage," Lin Quan'an said politely.
The Wanyou firm that Lin Quan'an would open was called "Mountain Route" in Lingao's intelligence system, with the codename "Gold-Character Firm." Based on multiple discussions between the Foreign Intelligence Bureau and the Colonial and Trade Department, considering both trade and intelligence, the future mainland intelligence-trade system would be modeled after the organizational methods of the Zheng clan.
The Zheng clan's maritime operations, except for a brief period after accepting pacification during the late Ming, had been suppressed by the Ming court in the early period and blockaded by the Manchu Qing in the later period.
(End of Chapter)