Chapter 1544 - Investment Immigration
Even Zhou Zhongjun expressed interest in testing for an acupuncturist license. The atmosphere among the group relaxed visibly—everyone felt they could finally establish a foothold in Lingao.
"We men can at last gain a proper standing in Nanbao." Huang Zhen sighed, removing his Six-Harmony Unity Hat to dust it off before setting it on the table. "I've traveled north and south for decades, but I never expected the Cropped-Hairs' territory to prove this difficult—the most challenging place of all my journeys."
The others knew nothing of his "adventure" that day. Song Shengying assumed he was disheartened from days of running around and offered words of comfort like "a great man knows when to bend and when to stand firm."
Because Zhou Zhongjun went out frequently and spent money with abandon, Huang Zhen, fearing trouble, reminded everyone once more not to leave without good reason and to notify him beforehand if they must. He fixed Zhou Zhongjun with a pointed look—having suffered a small loss and knowing she was in the wrong, she had no choice but to listen this time.
After settling this matter, Huang Zhen discovered their construction funds were running dangerously low. The renovation contract was "all-inclusive," with weekly settlements. After paying this week's installment, Shopkeeper Huang found little remained of the initial thousand circulation vouchers. The new funds hadn't yet arrived. This plunged the team into a fresh crisis.
Without money, one couldn't move an inch anywhere. Huang Zhen had seven or eight people depending on him and a half-finished storefront. Sima Qiudao had vanished like a crane into the clouds, with no word at all. Sima was his liaison with "Seventh Master." Without Seventh Master's covert support, he felt utterly adrift.
After waiting anxiously for several days, Sima Qiudao finally reappeared. It turned out he had been "job hunting" and had secured a position with the Native Products Company under the Ministry of Commerce—specifically as a "Purchaser" responsible for acquiring local specialties. This allowed him to travel openly throughout Lingao County.
Since Sima Qiudao refused to shave his head and undergo purification, he remained merely a "temporary worker." Having secured the job, he returned to Nanbao.
Sima Qiudao brought operating funds forwarded by Seventh Master, along with fresh intelligence: Zhuo Yifan and the others had landed in Qiongshan County and were making their way toward Lingao.
What specifically they would do once in Lingao remained known only to Zhuo Yifan himself. But given the initial instructions to infiltrate, the operation surely involved considerable difficulty and would require time to await the right opportunity.
However, this incoming group numbered over twenty souls, which put Huang Zhen in a bind. He groaned inwardly—opening this shop to house seven or eight people already felt cramped. Now more than twenty additional people were arriving at once. How would he accommodate them all? Securing housing wasn't simple. Nanbao was manageable, but trying to settle in East Gate Market or Bopu, the rent alone would constitute a significant sum—assuming one could even find a place. Lingao's housing shortage was severe.
Housing aside, what identities would so many people assume? Lingao's household registration system was extremely strict. How could a mixed group of men and women, young and old, register for residence permits?
Sima Qiudao waved off the concerns. "It doesn't matter. Seventh Master says they have their own arrangements. We needn't interfere."
"But the Cropped-Hairs have surveillance nets everywhere here..."
"It doesn't matter," Sima Qiudao repeated with confidence. "Seventh Master devised a method for them. Since there are so many people, it's actually better to enter openly and aboveboard. Done correctly, that approach causes no issues."
"Is that so?" Huang Zhen was puzzled. But since the elders had decided, it wasn't his place to question further.
East Gate Market, South Fifth Lane. On the main road of this urban-rural fringe—an area still scattered with wasteland and construction sites—a mighty convoy arrived that day.
The convoy was quite impressive. At the front rolled a two-wheeled Dongfeng carriage, followed by four four-wheeled Hongqi carriages, then three four-wheeled freight wagons piled high with cargo covered tightly in oilcloth. A final two-wheeled carriage brought up the rear.
Such a procession would have drawn crowds of onlookers a year or two ago, but in recent months these convoys had become a familiar sight on the streets. Their destination was typically the suburban area beyond East Gate Market's Fifth Lane.
It was late spring in Lingao, and the weather was growing hot. The young saplings lining the new road offered scant shade. But various flowering trees were in full bloom, painting the journey in a riot of colors, like traveling through a living landscape.
The convoy's wheels crunched over the cinder road and came to a halt before a large compound on South Fifth Lane.
Amid Lingao's proliferation of modern buildings, this traditional-style structure looked strikingly out of place. From its brand-new tile ends and snow-white walls, it was clearly of recent construction.
A huge black signboard with gold characters hung at the entrance: "Qiongan Inn." This was Lingao's largest traditional-style inn.
In recent years, chaos had engulfed the Central Plains. Bandits roamed freely, and civil uprisings erupted daily, rendering roads perilous. Local powers with wealth and influence built fortified compounds and organized militias for protection. Small and medium landlords could scarcely survive in the countryside without seeking shelter under powerful patrons.
Even relocating to a county seat had become increasingly unsafe. Many families sold their properties and migrated to the peaceful, prosperous "blessed lands" of Jiangnan to "escape the tumult."
Lingao County in Qiongzhou Prefecture—that distant corner of Guangdong—had now become a candidate destination for wealthy refugees seeking sanctuary. Rumors of Lingao's prosperity, peace, and contented populace had spread, to varying degrees, to the mainland. The wealthy, having access to "Australian goods," knew more about Lingao than most.
Though not many wealthy families had both knowledge of and courage enough to flee to Lingao, for such a remote place, the trickle added up to a significant stream.
The Civil Affairs Department raised no objections to their immigration—immigration was always welcomed. Moreover, these wealthy families held substantial capital; their settlement in Lingao would effectively stimulate consumption. Additionally, the Yuan Elder Court needed greater quantities of gold and silver hard currency to balance "international payments."
"Qiongan Inn" had been born of this demand. Its owner was Li Sunqian, a member of the Lingao Consultative Council and former "Night Soil Tyrant." After voluntarily surrendering ownership of the night soil routes in Lingao's county seat, Li Sunqian had begun investing in industry under Ministry of Commerce guidance.
At first, the Li family had merely invested in various Yuan Elder Court state-owned enterprises. Gradually, perceiving the potential in real estate, they had begun developing properties around East Gate Market.
As mainland households crossed the sea to Lingao in increasing numbers, Li Sunqian seized the opportunity. He purchased extensive land around South Fifth Lane and hired the Lingao Construction General Company to design and build "luxury mansions" specifically for these newcomers.
Though called "luxury mansions," they weren't traditional buildings. They merely preserved the exterior style of traditional architecture while employing modern architectural concepts for internal structure. Comfort and land utilization far exceeded what conventional construction could achieve.
Li Sunqian was a local tycoon at heart, however, and understood the residential preferences, family structures, and living habits of his fellow gentry far better than the Senators could. His "luxury mansions" proved extremely popular with wealthy immigrant households; the first batch sold out shortly after completion. While the second batch was still under construction, the Li family's young master, Li Xiaopeng, taught himself the art of "selling off-plan"—marketing the "mansions" while they were still being built.
Money collected, houses still under construction. Families with dragging dependents and mountains of luggage needed somewhere to settle in the meantime. Li Xiaopeng had a flash of inspiration and conceived "transitional housing": build an "inn" specifically for their clients.
Having received many such guests, he knew these wealthy families crossing the sea were often apprehensive. To reassure them, he needed to provide a living environment similar to their former homes.
Thus the Li family invested in building this "Qiongan Inn." The guiding principle was straightforward: Ming architecture, Australian amenities. Preserving the familiar atmosphere while allowing guests to fully experience the comforts of the "Australian" lifestyle.
Business boomed from the day it opened. For the wealthy crossing the sea, the "Australian" lifestyle hadn't yet taken hold. Even the Commercial Hostel—the premier "State Guesthouse" in East Gate Market—struck them as too cramped in layout. No courtyards, no proper separation between upper and lower rooms, no quarters for servants. They couldn't accommodate their slaves properly.
Qiongan Inn had considered all this during construction. Accommodations were comfortable, and service was impeccably appropriate. Despite the high cost of a night's stay, most investment immigrants chose to lodge here.
As the convoy halted in the square before the spirit screen, clerks waiting at the entrance hurried forward to greet them—helping passengers down, unloading luggage, bustling about like industrious bees.
The ground had been swept immaculately clean. Several handcarts waited nearby, specifically designated for baggage.
From the last two-wheeled carriage, a traveler leaped down lightly. He wore a fine silk robe and a gauze hairnet. In one hand he held a brilliantly mottled bronze sword; with the other he patted dust from his clothes. He looked up at the sky and muttered to himself, "The weather here is truly sweltering! A good rain would be welcome."
A clerk approached with a smile, reaching out to take the sword for him, but a young pageboy who had dismounted first had already claimed it. The pageboy was young, with red lips and white teeth—genuinely handsome. Exactly the kind of pretty attendant wealthy households liked to keep.
The clerks were seasoned hands. Seeing he couldn't ingratiate himself through the sword—and recognizing it was likely valuable—the clerk quickly adapted, smiling instead. "Our Lingao enjoys summer weather year-round; even winter isn't terribly cold. But spring is reluctant to bring rain; come summer, it pours endlessly—that's what truly becomes unbearable. Honored guest, please come inside. The establishment has prepared plum syrup and fruits to help you cool off." As he spoke, he couldn't help sizing up this newcomer.
The young scholar appeared around twenty years of age, in the prime of youth, radiating vigor and energy. Though dressed as a scholar, his skin was bronzed by the sun. Long eyebrows swept toward his temples; his eyes gleamed like bright stars. His firmly closed lips suggested he was not given to loose talk. A slightly protruding chin indicated a strong, determined character. His features were elegant, yet lacked nothing of masculine resolve.