Chapter 2868: Lingao-Guangzhou Exchange Conference (3)

Fu Bu'er raised the glass to his lips and tentatively touched the tip of his tongue to the liquid. His mouth twisted involuntarily—What in the world is this stuff! Sweet, yet bitter and astringent all at once! It tasted like some medicinal decoction that had been sugared and then left to sour. Yet glancing around the table, he saw all the distinguished gentlemen savoring this black water with evident pleasure. Not daring to set down his glass and reveal his weakness, he could only hum appreciatively and feign enjoyment. After forcing himself to take a few more sips, however, he gradually discovered that the bitterness concealed a sweetness within, and once the sourness and astringency faded, an indescribable fragrant aftertaste bloomed across his tongue. A surge of energy spread through his body; the exhaustion from a full day of rushing about vanished completely, and even his mind felt sharper than before. He marveled silently—these Australians truly had their ways, capable of concocting all manner of strange wonders!

What Fu Bu'er didn't know was that this was "Coca-Cola," a beverage that Lingao Pharmaceutical Factory had painstakingly reverse-engineered. The formulation itself wasn't particularly remarkable. Cola's ingredients were not rare, and replicating them was well within their capabilities. The true difficulty lay in how to carbonate the beverage. In earlier years, Lingao's carbonated drinks—Kvass and fruit sodas—had relied on natural fermentation of grains or fruits. It wasn't until just before the Guangzhou landing that this knockoff cola finally entered production, after they had solved the process of injecting carbon dioxide into liquid and maintaining its effervescence.

However, because Director Shi harbored an innate distrust of coca and possessed "the most basic conscience of an intellectual," she had been half-resisting the market release of this knockoff cola. In the end, it was Deng Boyuan—for wherever there was a revenue stream, Senator Deng's rotund figure could be found—who patted his chest and guaranteed that the coca extract dosage used by the pharmaceutical factory was "negligible," presenting relevant data from America before Director Shi finally uttered those two words: "Approved."

Thinking that once this drink hit the market, his own wastrel children would inevitably follow the trend and buy it, Fu Bu'er felt another wave of displeasure wash over him at the thought of his offspring.

These past few years, with the backing of the Tiandihui, Fu Bu'er's fortunes had soared. His landholdings expanded until he felt he "couldn't possibly oversee it all." Naturally, the children at home were all put to work. Just as he had once driven them to labor in the fields, now he drove them to "manage."

Though Fu Bu'er lacked formal education, he possessed a natural talent for putting people to work. Among his children, the most promising was undoubtedly Fu Fu, whom he had once written off as a "discarded piece." Fu Fu had joined the army and risen to become an officer over the years. In military uniform with an Australian sword at his waist, he cut a magnificent figure walking down the street. Yet Fu Bu'er had received no benefit from him. After years of military service, the young man hadn't earned his father a single penny. And the moment he achieved his officer's commission and returned home, he opened his mouth to propose marriage—he wanted to wed Fu Yijin.

Years ago, Fu Bu'er had personally promised Fu Fu that once he became an officer, he would give his daughter to him in marriage. Now that Fu Fu had achieved that rank, and Yijin was already past twenty and could not be delayed any longer, he formally engaged them. Marrying into a Fubo Army officer's family wasn't a loss, after all. In an era when military men commanded respect, the status of being a military family wasn't a bad thing.

But apart from this "military family" status, Fu Bu'er had gained nothing. Local bride prices were certainly substantial these days, but before the engagement, several officers from the "Political Department" had visited, gently reminding him to "respond to the New Life Movement" and "promote new wedding customs." The core issue, of course, was the bride price. Fu Bu'er's heart bled, but he could only "actively respond." In the end, he received not a single penny—only the eight categories of engagement gifts. Though some valuable pieces of jewelry were included, those would have to accompany his daughter as dowry anyway.

He had gotten nothing. Fu Bu'er was deeply aggrieved. One money-losing proposition wasn't enough—there had to be two! Fu Fu had also grown up eating his rice, after all!

Then there was Fu Xi. Following Chief Wan's advice years ago, he had sent her to "learn accounting." After three or four years of study, she returned as another Fu Fu—upon graduation, she took a position directly with the Tiandihui. She had become a "public servant." That manner of hers, that bearing—not only he himself, but even his wife, who used to beat Fu Xi until the girl rolled on the floor begging for mercy, now felt three inches shorter in her presence.

Fortunately, Fu Xi held no grudges and remained quite attentive to him as a "model household." But she was no longer truly family—he couldn't use her, and didn't dare to.

Luckily, ever since Fu Fu's glorious homecoming, Fu Bu'er had kept his wits about him and made special efforts to win over his other adopted children. Their living standards improved dramatically, and through several intense episodes of domestic violence, he prohibited domestic violence against the children. Moreover, he declared multiple times that "they're all children of his household, and none would be treated unfairly." Fu Yue, Fu Qing, and Fu Xiang, after receiving some education, all returned to help with family affairs. Now they served as important cadres in "Bu'er Agricultural Limited Company." As for his two biological sons, the younger one, San Tong, was very clever and currently attending middle school. The whole family could be said to be quite prosperous.

Only his most valued eldest son, Er Yin, gave him the greatest headache. Er Yin had also been sent to study, with the original hope that he would learn agriculture or finance to assist the family business. But unexpectedly, this Er Yin insisted on studying medicine.

Studying Australian medicine was indeed an excellent livelihood these days. Even if one chose not to work in a large hospital, opening a small clinic meant money would come rolling in. But Fu Bu'er's family enterprise had grown so large that he looked down on such small earnings now. Er Yin, as his eldest son and future heir, could study agriculture, could study business—so why had he gone and chosen medicine!

Father and son had quarreled over this several times. Fu Bu'er couldn't win against his son, and Senator Fu had come to put in a word, saying the young man was "promising material." One couldn't refuse a Senator's face, so he had to bear it and prepare to "work on him gradually."

The banquet was reaching its climax. On one side, pretty girls brought out dishes in an endless stream. On the other, gentry clinked cups freely. Fu Bu'er had matters weighing on his mind and inevitably drank a few cups more than he should have. Strong liquor paired with Cola—he felt the alcohol rushing straight to his head, and his tolerance seemed diminished compared to before. Dizzy and bleary-eyed, he leaned back in his chair watching the gentry at the table, who after a few cups had already shed their reserved manner and were toasting and chatting freely with great camaraderie. Though he had no one to converse with, he inexplicably felt happy inside and couldn't stop grinning.

Amid the merriment, Fu Bu'er's vision blurred as a beautiful woman in a green dress seemed to float through the door like a drifting cloud—red lips and white teeth, like a fairy descended from an opera.

This fairy "floated" through the doorway, curtseyed gracefully, and spoke in a clear voice: "Blessings to all the gentlemen. This humble servant Qingruo wishes you all well."

Gao Ju had recently found himself in ever-greater favor with the Australian superiors. Not only had he become Chairman of the Guangzhou Chamber of Commerce, but he had also recently taken on the role of Advisor to the Guangzhou Municipal Government. On this trip to Lingao, Chairman Wang had personally received him, praising his "firm stance" and "active pursuit of progress" during the currency reform. Moreover, a project he had bid on recently had commenced smoothly and was about to enter production. Everything was going well, and he was feeling quite expansive. Just now at the table, his fellow countrymen had been very complimentary, frequently toasting him, so he had drunk a few cups more than usual. Now, seeing such a girl enter—one whose manner was clearly that of someone in charge—he steadied himself and said with dignity: "That's enough formality. What is your business, miss?"

Qingruo remained in her curtsey without rising, speaking in refined tones: "How can the gentlemen's golden evening banquet be without music for entertainment? Our establishment has a clear-singing troupe with quite fine voices. Shall I have them come in to sing a fashionable tune and add to the elegance?"

Since Ziming Tower's reconstruction, the clear-singing troupe, under Senator Pei's cultivation, had seen their skills improve dramatically. Newly arranged ditties like "Story of a Small Town" and "Sweet Honey" had become wildly popular in Guangzhou, driving the city's young dandies mad with obsession. Having them perform specially for the gentry of both regions today was also an important way to fully demonstrate the Great Song's cultural influence.

Gao Ju was about to agree with a chuckle when suddenly someone at the table shot to his feet and spoke with a smarmy smile: "What do we need those little hussies for? Miss, you're so... so ravishing, you must be an old hand at this. Why not just stay and drink and sing with us?" Before the words had fully left his mouth, an oily hand reached straight for Qingruo's shoulder.

Gao Ju frowned. He recognized this as the eldest son of Boss Mi—Mi Yijing. The Mi family were old "night soil lords" who had monopolized the city's night soil routes for generations. One might say they made a fortune daily. They also possessed the power to make anyone's home "stink to high heaven" at any moment. Even the city's most prominent gentry had to show the Mi family some respect.

Since the Australians entered Guangzhou, under the pressure of circumstances, the Mi family had proactively surrendered their night soil routes, donated large sums for military expenses, and purchased many shares of South Sea Company stock—essentially exchanging all of this for a safe transition. Now they had invested in several new enterprises that were operating quite well, barely maintaining their status.

For this trip to Lingao for study, Boss Mi couldn't get away himself. Feeling that his son was already in his thirties and should see the world and build connections with Senators, he sent this young master as a representative.

This Mi Yijing wasn't exactly a good-for-nothing who only knew how to eat, drink, and indulge in pleasures. He could hold his own in business. But the young master was also notorious as a ringleader at pleasure quarters and a leader among the ladies of the night. After a few cups of liquor muddled his wits, seeing Qingruo enter, half-drunk and half-looking for trouble, he reached out to grab her.

Gao Ju was about to intervene when, before he could speak, he saw Qingruo's smile remain unchanged. She simply stepped back slightly. Mi Yijing, drunk and unsteady, missed his grab and lurched forward as if about to fall. Qingruo, her hands withdrawn into her long sleeves, caught his arms through the fabric and said sweetly: "Thank you, sir." With that, she straightened up gracefully, as if Mi Yijing had merely been kind enough to help her rise from her curtsey.

Mi Yijing steadied himself with that catch. He stood frozen for a moment before coming to his senses, feeling both embarrassed and angry, only to find cold sweat breaking out across his body. His face was flushed crimson from the strong liquor churning in his stomach. He decided to brazen it out and stepped forward boldly, snatching up two wine cups from the table and thrusting them into Qingruo's hands: "Let's not be hasty, miss—there's a saying at the drinking table: 'Wine in the cup, not drinking makes you a pup.' Why don't we share a wedding toast today, shall we?" Several drunk gentry at the table, seeing entertainment afoot, cast sideways glances to watch the show unfold.

(End of Chapter)