Chapter 2547: Guangzhou Textile Market (Part 5)

"It's complicated to explain," An Jiu said with a lovely smile that made Chen Lin's heart flutter despite himself. "It involves shares and equity structures. Put simply, each company can only operate within a limited scope, so many were registered—but they all answer to the same master."

An Jiu knew that explaining cross-holdings, subsidiary and grandson companies, actual controllers, legal persons, and proxy arrangements would only confuse them. These rules had evolved in mature capitalist societies, after all. The Senate had imported this sophisticated corporate framework, and even now, many people hadn't fully grasped it.

"Then what is Penglai Company's main business?" Wu Yijun asked. He knew An Jiu hadn't brought him here without purpose. Though he couldn't fathom what she was after, he refused to play the dullard and follow her lead blindly—that would only invite her contempt.

"Miss An, since you came to Nansha to advise on textiles, I presume this company also deals in cotton cloth..." Chen Lin ventured.

"Quite the opposite. Our company doesn't trade in cloth at all—we simply transport it for those who do."

"Oh? Like brokers [Yaren]?" Wu Yijun's mind naturally went there. Beyond workshop owners who manufactured their own goods, the cloth trade included putting-out merchants and brokers who collected commissions. Sometimes the boundaries between these roles blurred entirely—brokers might double as putting-out merchants, or a single person might wear all three hats.

"An interesting association, Mr. Wu—I can see why you'd think that. However, the Senate doesn't establish Broker Houses [Yahang] in production and distribution, so there are no official brokers. Legal market trade is free."

"Then what exactly are you?" Wu Yijun struggled to understand. Even if the Australians had established a Light Textile City, wasn't it essentially a workshop market? Surely there were official brokers inside collecting commissions, matching buyers with sellers, managing the market. It seemed much the same to him.

"Let me put it this way," An Jiu explained. "Say you produce cloth for sale, or you're a merchant trafficking goods from the interior or overseas. Either way, you need someone to handle delivery or procurement. If you have the channels, you manage it yourself—but some destinations require large ships, and some routes are unfamiliar territory. Whenever you can't handle the transport yourself, you come to us. We can deliver goods to Nanyang, or even Taisi [Europe]."

Wu Yijun nodded slowly, beginning to grasp the concept.

"Unlike Broker Houses, we post transparent prices and don't collect taxes on the government's behalf. Moreover, this industry isn't monopolized. You're not obligated to use our routes or ships for any particular destination—other companies offer the same service. Two of them are right next door. If customers find our prices unreasonable, they're welcome to try our competitors." She laughed. "Though I must put in a word for ourselves: our value for money is unmatched."

"The companies next door—are they Red Hairs?" Chen Lin asked. He'd noticed before entering that two neighboring shops were already open, with strangely-dressed Red Hairs milling about their entrances.

"The people you saw are Dutchmen, to be precise. This row of merchant guilds includes offices of both the Dutch East India Company and the British East India Company. Their main business is buying and selling goods here, but they also offer shipping. You can hire them to transport goods anywhere overseas—provided they have a trading post there."

"I see," Wu Yijun said. "I recall the Franks used to be the most common visitors to Guangzhou. They seem to have gone quiet."

"The Portuguese still come. But holed up in Macau as they are, they can barely conduct any business." An Jiu laughed. "Compared to the British and Dutch, they lack enterprise. They move far too slowly."

"Does the Senate truly intend to let all these barbarians conduct business here?" Wu Yijun couldn't hide his surprise. He knew the Australians had effectively carved out a section of Huangpu Port for foreign merchants to berth, even allowing them to purchase land, construct buildings, and establish warehouses. But now they meant to give them permanent merchant guilds here as well?

"Why not? As long as they pay their taxes and abide by Senate laws, shouldn't we facilitate their trade?" She smiled. "You're both in cotton textiles—you may well need to rely on them to supply your cotton someday."

"What? They have cotton?"

"Of course," An Jiu nodded. "Not from their own countries, mind you—they traffic it from India."

"How do you know this?" Chen Lin asked eagerly, his interest in cotton matters getting the better of him.

"If you're in the cotton textile industry, how can you afford to ignore the market? Here in Guangzhou, besides Songjiang cloth, whose fabric dominates?"

"Indian cloth." Chen Lin felt foolish for not connecting the dots sooner. With so much Indian cotton cloth flooding the market, their cotton production must be enormous.

"This is wonderful! Another source of raw materials for the future."

The two lingered at Penglai Company for quite some time, discussing a wide range of topics. Compared to Chen Lin, Wu Yijun showed keener interest in "business," asking numerous questions about Guangzhou's future commercial trends and textile prospects. An Jiu spoke freely, sharing whatever she knew. The conversation flowed easily between them. Chen Lin, meanwhile, felt a private shame creeping over him. An Jiu had been in Nansha for months, yet he'd let concerns about "propriety between men and women" prevent him from having any substantive discussions with her. What a waste of an invaluable opportunity!

Their talk stretched until noon. Suddenly remembering their afternoon appointment with Dong Jizhong, they took their leave at once. An Jiu neither offered polite protests nor pressed them to stay for a meal. She simply mentioned that if they wanted to explore the market that afternoon, the Living Zone had restaurants already open for a quick bite.

The Living Zone remained unfinished, though most storefronts had begun operating. The establishments here were mainly "Public Canteen" type cheap restaurants, currently serving the laborers working the construction sites. Business was brisk. But Chen and Wu were "Long Gown Party"—they couldn't very well mingle with the "Short Jacket Gang" over a meal. Fortunately, Dong Jizhong had invited them to meet at a local tea house, where they could conveniently eat lunch while waiting.

Upon entering the tea house and mentioning Dong Jizhong's name, a waiter promptly appeared, explaining that Master Dong had already reserved a private room. He led them inside.

No sooner had they taken their seats than waiters arrived in an endless stream, bearing an array of exquisite tea snacks and presenting a selection of famous teas. Chen Lin thought to himself: This Master Dong certainly lives up to his station.

The waiter attended to them solicitously: "Master Dong asked me to convey that you shouldn't stand on ceremony—please eat first. He must accompany the Old Matriarch for lunch at home before coming over. He worried about leaving you unattended..."

Given this arrangement, the two ate and drank at leisure. About an hour later, well past the noon hour, Dong Jizhong finally arrived.

Dong and Wu were old acquaintances, so there was no need for excessive formality. For Chen Lin, however, this was his first meeting with the "General's family's First Master," and his cousin-uncle made the introductions. Learning that the young man before him was the actual manager of the Nansha factory, Dong Jizhong registered visible surprise. Since his family held shares in Nansha, he chose his words with considerable courtesy.

Once everyone was seated, the waiter cleared the scattered dishes, presented fresh tea snacks, and brewed two new pots of tea. Only then did they turn to business.

"Ah Lin, Master Dong is practically family. Tell him everything—how the factory was built in Nansha and where things stand now."

Chen Lin understood that Master Dong's family was effectively his cousin-uncle's primary investor—or to put it bluntly, the major shareholder in Nansha. Composing himself, he recounted everything from his initial visit to Lingao through the recent trial production, leaving nothing out.

His account was clear and methodical. Though he spoke for over an hour, Dong Jizhong listened with rapt attention, never showing a hint of boredom.

When Chen Lin reached the part about Nansha facing a production halt due to insufficient cotton stocks, Dong Jizhong's brow furrowed slightly.

"The stored cotton isn't enough?"

"We stored plenty, but we never anticipated how fast the Australians' machines would work," Chen Lin explained. "A single machine matches the output of several hundred workers! Cotton consumption rises daily, and we've exhausted the supply around Nansha." He outlined the general scope of their dilemma for Dong Jizhong.

"We heard Master Dong has cotton here, so we've come to beg a favor—might you be willing to share a portion with Nansha?"

Dong Jizhong nodded slowly. "I see." He tapped his fan against his palm. "By rights, this should be no trouble at all. But as things stand, it's not so simple. You've probably noticed cotton prices in Guangzhou have been climbing steadily. Though my family stockpiled quite a bit, if I release goods to you now, the household accountant will run straight to the elders complaining I sold too quickly..." He smiled ruefully. "My mother fears nothing more than seeing me cheated in business. She opposed my stockpiling cotton from the very start."

"If the Old Madam doesn't want you stockpiling cotton anyway, what's wrong with selling at the peak and pocketing a safe profit?" Wu Yijun found this puzzling.

"Ah, you don't know the half of it. To make sure I don't get swindled, my mother assigned an old manager to watch over me. He's quite capable at management, I'll grant him that. But it means I can't make any decisions on my own—everything requires his approval..." Dong Jizhong smiled helplessly. "I'll need to go home and discuss this with him first."

Chen Lin felt a pang of disappointment, but his position didn't allow him to press the matter. Wu Yijun spoke up again: "Master Dong, while cotton prices are certainly riding high, they've reached absurd levels. The moment there's any hint of trouble, this market will collapse. When that happens, you won't just be complaining about selling too cheaply—you'll be lucky to sell the stuff for firewood! With the market this strong, surely the old manager can see reason."

"You don't understand," Dong Jizhong replied. "You probably haven't heard yet—my father and brother both wrote letters saying the cotton harvests in Shandong and Henan have been poor. The Jianghuai region suffered disasters too. Even Songjiang doesn't have enough for its own needs. The Australians have been buying in large quantities recently, which naturally drove up Northern Cotton prices. The old manager believes this cotton has room to climb higher still."

(End of Chapter)