Chapter 2549: Crisis Emerges
Wu Yijun turned the matter over in his mind and realized his nephew was right. He had spent enough years in commerce to understand how markets worked. Once a crisis erupted, no government proclamation could stabilize it. He had been worried about the flood of "Paper Cotton" and the rampant speculation, but now, analyzing the prospects for yarn and cloth with Chen Lin, a chill ran down his spine.
If the situation Chen Lin described came to pass, the cotton textile industry would bear the brunt. The yarn spun from Nansha Factory's prized 720 spindles would become a noose around their necks. Unsold yarn and cloth would pile up. Factories would grind to a halt.
He set down his wine cup. "Ah Lin, you're right. This Paper Cotton business will explode sooner or later. If we can pour cold water on it before it does, perhaps there's still a chance to salvage things."
"That's what I think as well," Chen Lin said. "Our only option now is to advise the Senators directly. Miss An mentioned that Senators Li and Zou arrived in Guangzhou not long ago. We could ask her to pass along our concerns—even if we can't secure an audience, we should at least submit a letter."
"Exactly!" Wu Yijun nodded. "We'll draft it tonight." Then something else occurred to him. "Ah Lin, how much cloth and yarn remains unsold, both in the factory and outside?"
"We have considerable inventory at the factory. There's also a good deal of yarn we've distributed to the weaving households that hasn't been woven and returned yet."
"For everything we have on hand—yarn and cloth alike—send people to transport it to Guangzhou immediately. While prices are still high, dump it all. Even at a discount, as long as someone's willing to buy, get rid of every last bolt. How long will our cotton supply last at current production rates?"
"About half a month."
"Have the manager spin all remaining cotton into yarn. Then shut down the machines and send the workers home—it's busy farming season anyway, so they'll have work to do. Once the yarn is spun, contract Fengshenghe to weave it into cloth for storage. After that, we'll watch the market."
"I'll send Ah Qing back to handle this right away." Chen Lin hesitated, then lowered his voice. "What about the cotton from Dong Second Master? If he actually manages to get it for us, what then?"
Neither of them felt optimistic about the long-term cloth market anymore. Their priority was to clear as much inventory as possible before the crash. Taking on high-priced cotton now would drive their costs up considerably.
If it were anyone else, they could simply refuse—there was no contract, after all. But Dong Second Master was not only a shareholder; he had also promised to sell them cotton when prices were rising three times a day. That was an enormous favor. To renege now would mean they could never look him in the face again.
"We'll just find a reason to decline," Wu Yijun mused. "Perhaps you could say you've left for Lingao..."
Chen Lin shook his head. "That won't do. Dong Second Master might not say anything outright, but he'd hold it against us. We need another approach."
Wu Yijun's eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "Ah Lin, since arriving here, how many Patterned Cloth Firms have you approached about buying cotton?"
"Not a single one." Chen Lin looked puzzled.
Wu Yijun immediately summoned a servant and instructed him to find out the current Paper Cotton price.
The servant returned shortly with his report: Paper Cotton had risen another five percent per picul.
"Perfect." Wu Yijun smiled. "Ah Lin, tomorrow I want you to visit every Patterned Cloth Firm in the city. Ask them what price they're offering for spot goods—cotton available for immediate delivery—and how many piculs they can provide. Tell them you need it urgently to start up the factory."
"But buying that cotton would only deepen our losses," Chen Lin said, confused.
"Of course I don't expect you to actually buy any. I just need you to let every Patterned Cloth Firm in the city know that someone is desperately seeking spot cotton."
"Ah—you want to drive up spot prices even higher?"
"Precisely."
"But how would that help Dong Second Master convince his family manager..." Understanding dawned on Chen Lin. His inquiries would fan the flames of the spot market; the Dong family's manager would become even more reluctant to release their stock.
"I know a thing or two about that manager," Wu Yijun said with satisfaction. "Shrewd as they come. With the market this hot, why would he release inventory willingly? He holds the mother's mandate—and Dong Second Master, for all his status, may not be able to overrule him."
By the time Dong Second Master negotiated with his mother and tried to persuade the household, at least three to five days would pass. And knowing Dong Second Master's temperament—the man detested complications—he might well give up entirely.
"As long as he can't get back to us in the next few days, I'll simply explain that you couldn't wait and went looking for other sources."
"Then everyone saves face." Chen Lin thought to himself: Cousin-Uncle's mind is sharp as a blade.
The next day, he followed the plan. After making his rounds of inquiries, he went specifically to the Penglai Company office in the Textile Market to find An Jiu. He told her he had concerns about the current market situation and hoped to meet with the two Chiefs—or failing that, asked if she could forward a letter on his behalf.
An Jiu was somewhat surprised, but she knew Chen Lin to be a steady, level-headed man. If he was requesting an audience with the Chiefs, it had to be urgent. However, Chiefs Zou and Li, while indeed in Guangzhou, were consumed with preparations for the Guangzhou Cotton Textile Factory. Without a concrete agenda, they would have difficulty finding time to receive visitors.
"Tell me why you need to see them," An Jiu said. "You must have something specific in mind if I'm to make a proper report."
"To be frank, it's about the cotton situation." Chen Lin described the chaos of Paper Cotton flooding the market and laid out his concerns. "Once Paper Cotton collapses, I'm afraid the entire industry will suffer devastating damage. Whether the Chiefs see me or not isn't important, but they need to know about this urgently."
An Jiu didn't know much about commercial affairs, but listening to his analysis, she too sensed the gravity of the situation. She promised to report immediately.
"Don't go anywhere tomorrow—stay at your Cousin-Uncle's home. You may be summoned at any moment."
"I understand."
Li Shan, meanwhile, was preparing for an incognito inspection at the Great World office. He planned to walk through the Textile Market and get a feel for conditions on the ground.
This market was a project he had poured considerable effort into establishing—a key initiative in his push to develop the Senate's cotton textile industry. With the official opening imminent, he needed to investigate firsthand.
From what he could tell, market response had been positive. But the only way to truly understand the situation was to see it himself.
Originally, he had planned to blend in wearing Ming-style clothing. But after trying on a set, he felt uncomfortable. He tried several more outfits, and each made him feel like a monkey in a costume.
"It seems clothing has a great deal to do with a person's bearing," Li Shan concluded. He abandoned the pretense—his own clothes were more comfortable anyway.
For safety, and to make it easier to hear honest opinions, he passed on the finely made "Senator's uniform" and had someone fetch a set of indigo-dyed work clothes made from coarse cotton cloth. This was the most common attire among Naturalized Citizen employees; any Naturalized Citizen cadre with even modest status wouldn't be caught dead in it. It would serve as a reasonable disguise.
Li Shan examined the loose blue garment in the mirror—it hung on him like a flour sack. "This is hideous," he muttered.
"It's not the clothes—it's the person wearing them." Zou Biao appeared behind him, laughing. "Do you really need to dress so plainly? At least wear a cadre suit. Besides, your bearing doesn't exactly scream 'grassroots worker.'"
"Enough. Let's go." Li Shan turned from the mirror. "I need to see for myself how much this reality has diverged from history."
"You think the historical record has become invalid?" Zou Biao raised an eyebrow. He had assumed Li Shan simply wanted to check on market preparations; he hadn't expected such a weighty topic.
"I wouldn't say invalid, but our influence on this timeline grows larger by the day. Many things have already changed. The butterfly effect seems... significant. People who should be alive have died; people who should be dead still live. The variables are enormous. Just the fact that Sun Yuanhua was restored to his post means Shandong's historical trajectory has completely disconnected from what we knew."
"That only proves our understanding of history was superficial—that we only knew how to exploit short-term events for profit." Zou Biao laughed, an unusually hearty sound from him. "In truth, short-term events have the least value. Do you think it matters to the Senate whether the one sent to suppress us is Xiong Wencan or Zhu Wencan? Whether the one rebelling is Li Zicheng or Zhang Zicheng?"
"I suppose... it doesn't." No matter who led the opposing army, they stood no chance against the Senate's overwhelming advantage.
"The most precious thing about history isn't the events themselves—it's the laws we can derive from countless such events. Take the cotton textile industry you and I are developing now. History won't tell us exactly which year the handicraft textile industry should collapse, or how many families will go bankrupt. But it will show us the process of that collapse and its characteristic manifestations."
"'Using history as a mirror, one can understand the rise and fall of states.' Does 'history' here mean a simple accumulation of events? Of course not. What matters is distilling laws from those events, then applying those laws to our own development."
"That sounds rather abstract," Li Shan said. "Everyone knows the bourgeoisie overthrew the feudal class. Everyone knows machines must replace manual labor. But what good is stating such generalities?"
"Because those laws were summarized by others, based on vast amounts of historical evidence. It's other people's historical theory. To put it crudely, it's as if someone else chewed the food and spat it out for you to swallow. Your mind doesn't contain the same reservoir of historical facts as theirs, so naturally it feels empty and abstract."
"That's a revolting metaphor." Li Shan grimaced.
"Let me give you an example. After the Opium War, you'll find two claims: 'The impact of industrial products caused fragile family handicraftsmen to go bankrupt,' and 'Native cloth produced by family handicraftsmen proved resilient under the impact and continued selling well in the market.' Which of these two contradictory statements do you think is correct?"
Both claims seemed to appear in descriptions of the post-Opium War economy; Li Shan vaguely remembered seeing them in junior high and high school history textbooks. Even some economic history books contained these diametrically opposed assertions.
(End of Chapter)