Chapter 193: Purple Treasure Studio

Though times remained hard, there was cause for cautious optimism. The formidable Fujian-Guangdong sea warlord Zheng Zhilong had accepted imperial amnesty, and while pirates still prowled the waters beyond the Pearl River estuary, Guangzhou's situation had eased considerably. As the year drew to its close, the great southeastern metropolis stirred back to life, its streets once again humming with commerce and celebration.

Guangdong had always enjoyed a mild climate. Though the Little Ice Age gripped China in its icy fist—and even distant Leizhou had once witnessed snowfall—true cold was never the norm here, south of the Five Ridges. After each cold snap passed, the earth quickly warmed again, and already the land showed early spring blossoms pushing through the soil. From the grand mansions of high officials down to the modest homes of comfortable households, the New Year was celebrated with undiminished joy. Beginning on New Year's Eve, firecrackers crackled throughout the city in an endless barrage, reaching a crescendo during the fifth watch on the first morning of the year.

Yet the previous year's consecutive famines in Fujian had cast long shadows over Guangdong as well. Refugees from distant provinces mingled with local starving folk, gathering on the wastelands near temples that operated soup kitchens. Each day, hungry beggars streamed through the streets, their unending cries forming a mournful counterpoint to the festivities. The mild weather, at least, meant no frozen corpses lined the alleyways—but that same warmth, combined with the concentrated masses of destitute humanity, bred epidemics of every variety. Each morning, baojia officials carried bodies to the cremation grounds beyond the city walls. But this was hardly unique to the current year. Everyone had grown accustomed to it. Such tragedies did nothing to diminish the city's prosperity, and certainly nothing to dampen the New Year's pleasures of officials, gentry, and the wealthy.

After New Year came the annual Lantern Festival, and the city transformed itself accordingly. From Chengxuan Street to the Great South Gate—a distance of three or four li—the thoroughfares became lantern markets. By tradition, these markets ran from the fourteenth through the sixteenth of the first month: daytime for trading, nighttime for lantern viewing. Merchants from every corner of the empire descended upon the city, seizing the opportunity to hawk goods of every description. Day and night, the constant stream of people shouting and calling resembled nothing so much as a pot at full boil, and the surrounding streets and alleyways caught the fever of commerce.

When darkness fell, every shop front blazed with colorful lanterns of astonishing variety: beaded lanterns, ink-splattered silk lanterns, five-color gauze lanterns, bright horn lanterns, simple paper lanterns, delicate wheat-straw lanterns, and even crude grass lanterns for those of modest means. Rarer still were Western glass lanterns and the Australian soft-film lanterns that had appeared on the market only the previous year. Fashioned from slightly translucent material with a soft, pliable texture and brilliantly vivid colors, these Australian novelties had become the new darlings of local officials and wealthy merchants.

The most precious lanterns hung from multi-story pavilions lining the streets, positioned for admiration from afar. These pavilions faced north and south, their vermilion doors and embroidered windows gleaming beneath painted beams and carved rafters. Those with curtains drawn typically housed the wives and concubines of high officials and local gentry, each night's rental running to dozens of taels.

The colored lanterns burned through the night, their steady glow complemented by the spectacular eruptions of fireworks overhead—endlessly varied and awe-inspiring in their display. Various musical ensembles and acrobatic troupes performed until dawn, while dragon dances and lion dances wove through the crowds from evening to morning. All night long, men and women pressed together in mountain-like seas of humanity.

The fourteenth day of the first month marked the festival's second climactic day. That morning, a distinguished-looking man approaching old age rode a donkey from the west city toward the east. His beard was sparse but flowed freely, and he wore a half-worn round-collared silk robe with a scholar's cap. His brow was furrowed slightly with an air of melancholy. Entering Huifu Street, he dismounted before Purple Treasure Studio, paid the carrier's fee, and walked slowly inside.

This merchant-looking middle-aged man was named Shen Fan. He had entered Guangzhou's famous jewelry trade as an apprentice at twelve years old, and after more than twenty years of diligent service had risen to the position of chief manager. Having worked a lifetime in this trade, he had retired just the previous year, purchasing some farmland in the countryside—for at over fifty, it was time to enjoy family life.

But fate proved cruel. His only beloved grandson had contracted an unknown illness, and spending his entire life's savings on famous doctors yielded only a devastating verdict: "Malaria has entered the bones. There is no cure."

For Old Manager Shen, these words struck like a thunderbolt from clear skies. He had struggled with descendants his entire life—his only son had already died. This grandson represented all his hope for the future, and now the boy stood at death's doorstep. Shen Fan felt utterly hopeless.

Yet somehow, news of his grandson's illness reached Manager Sun Kecheng of Qiwei Escort Bureau. Manager Sun knew the jewelry trade well through his escort business connections, and through his introduction, a young man named Guo Yi appeared, claiming he could save the beloved grandson. The condition was simple: Shen Fan must serve as chief manager at Purple Treasure Studio, which Guo Yi was planning to establish.

For someone of Shen Fan's reputation, switching employers violated the trade's most sacred taboos. But he had already retired with no remaining obligations to his former employer. Coming out of retirement to work elsewhere would, at most, draw whispered gossip from colleagues. This young man, though strangely attired, possessed a distinguished bearing and proper manners—clearly no petty criminal. Though puzzled, Shen Fan agreed immediately. Compared to his grandson's life, what was his reputation worth?

With the desperation of treating a dead horse as if it were still alive, he allowed Guo Yi to treat his grandson. And indeed, a miracle occurred. After several days of swallowing mysterious white pills with water according to Guo Yi's instructions, the grandson's condition visibly improved. Shocked and delighted, Shen Fan summoned another doctor to examine the boy. The verdict: no longer critical, just requiring rest. Per their agreement, once the Lantern Festival ended, Shen Fan would formally join Purple Treasure Studio.

But this Purple Treasure Studio was strange indeed. Old Manager Shen had heard from colleagues that the shop had been open less than a month, seemingly conducting only mansion-level business. The premises were strictly guarded, and nobody knew its inner workings. Some colleagues warned him that the shop's owner had deep connections with the Gao family—suggesting it might not be entirely legitimate, possibly serving as a front for some sea bandit.

This made Old Manager Shen uneasy. But reflecting that Sun Kecheng was known throughout the city as steady and reliable, he reasoned that the escort manager would never carelessly introduce a questionable employer. Still, he decided to visit Qiwei Escort Bureau first—partly to probe his new employer's background.

Sun Kecheng concealed nothing, explaining Guo Yi's origins with complete frankness: Australian maritime merchants possessed of rare goods, seeking development and profit in Ming China. As for what goods precisely—Shen Fan scarcely needed to ask. The various Australian curiosities sold through Gao family shops almost certainly came from this Guo Yi.

This revelation was unexpected. He had assumed some wealthy provincial outsider wanted to profit in Guangzhou's rich territory. It turned out they truly possessed excellent merchandise. Manager Shen knew well that the so-called Australian goods were not only exquisitely crafted but nearly impossible for outsiders to imitate. His former employer had once invited him to study various Australian curiosities on the market, and the trade's master craftsmen had all reached the same conclusion: they could roughly imitate the appearance and structure, but certain materials remained utterly unknown.

Originally ambivalent about managing Purple Treasure Studio, upon learning they were the very source of Australian goods, Shen Fan felt his curiosity—cultivated through a lifetime of handling rare treasures—suddenly kindle. The manager position was settled without further debate. These past days, he had been visiting colleagues and customers throughout the city, establishing Purple Treasure Studio's business relationships.

Two young shop assistants standing at the door saw the manager arrive and quickly dropped their brooms, hurrying forward to greet and assist him.

"Is the owner in?"

"In the back accounts room, talking with Manager Sun from Qiwei," one young assistant replied respectfully. This was Gao Di, the Gao family's household servant—quite clever. Shen Fan knew Gao Di's whole family served in the household, and though the boy was just a shop assistant, Guo Yi privately relied on him heavily. All communications with Qiwei Escort Bureau passed through his hands.

In truth, Gao Di was far more than merely relied upon—though Shen Fan could not have imagined that this still-childish youngster had become one of Guo Yi's principal informants.

During Wen Desi's absence, besides practicing martial arts at the escort bureau and routinely collecting commodity prices, Gao Di had continuously gathered information on the Gao family through childhood playmates from his days at Gao mansion. He was shrewd enough to recognize that Wen Manager and the Gao family were cooperating on the surface while watching each other warily beneath the veneer of partnership.

When Xiao Manager arrived later, he had reviewed all of Gao Di's collected materials. This Xiao Manager smiled without comment but handed him silver—which made Gao Di happy for days afterward. Not for the silver itself, but because his work had been recognized.

After Xiao Manager's departure came Guo Manager. Gao Qing and Gao Xian were puzzled by the Australian merchants' frequent personnel changes and found themselves somewhat uncomfortable with the constant rotation. But Gao Di understood better than most. These Australians weren't merely one or two individuals but an entire organization. Wen Manager and Xiao Manager were simply leaders among them, and his family weren't truly anyone's servants—they were Australian agents.

For this reason, he had grown even more proactive lately. Under Guo Yi's instructions, besides learning shop work as an assistant, he continued his intelligence activities daily. He had developed three or four subordinates from among his childhood playmates, each receiving two hundred wen monthly—drawn from the one-tael monthly activity fund that Wen Desi had previously allocated. Guo Yi believed an intelligence chief should not only gather intelligence but also possess sound management skills, including personnel and financial oversight. Accordingly, he declined to increase Gao Di's funds.

The evidence showed that the just-fifteen-year-old Gao Di possessed considerable natural talent for this particular line of work. Now, not only were all Gao family movements transparent to Guo Yi, but street talk throughout Haofan Street and Guangzhou city at large reached him with remarkable promptness.

Guo Yi's next objective was establishing a preliminary intelligence and trade network spanning the entire Guangdong province, currently relying on Qiwei Escort Bureau as its backbone. Under his planning and financial support, Manager Sun had expanded Qiwei's branch offices, establishing various properties along major land and water routes and in commercial hubs throughout the province—purchasing estates, opening inns, launching cart services.

Sun Kecheng found himself both pleased and worried by this rapid expansion. Pleased, because rural devastation meant that disciples, relatives, and fellow villagers who could no longer survive elsewhere came to him seeking help, and Guo Manager's expanded branches conveniently solved their employment problems. Worried, because he had never in his life seen business conducted this way. Before anyone knew whether the first shop would turn a profit, the second and third were already opening. At this rate, branches would blanket all of Guangdong. The money being spent made his heart race—the Leizhou deployment alone had cost a thousand taels. Yet Guo Manager repeatedly emphasized the same directive: buy land, estates, and workshops, as much as possible. At this rate, even mountains of gold and silver would prove insufficient.

He had been troubled for days. Just after the New Year celebrations concluded, he rushed to consult Guo Yi, hoping to suggest that perhaps the expansion might be slowed.

Shen Fan crossed the front courtyard and main hall, then passed through a moon gate guarded by escorts. Inside lay an elegantly clean small courtyard with three main rooms—Purple Treasure Studio's accounts office. The long windows stood open, and he could see Guo Manager and Sun Manager deep in conversation. Sun Kecheng wore a worried expression yet kept nodding at whatever was being said. Shen Fan was a veteran who had risen through twenty years as a shop assistant; he knew when to announce himself. He slowed his steps and gave a light cough.

Guo Manager looked up, saw him arrive, and quickly rose to greet him. Manager Sun stood to take his leave.

Shen Fan reported his customer and colleague visits in careful detail. Normally such routine business matters would never require the owner's attention, but Purple Treasure Studio was different. Shen Fan still had no idea what products the shop would actually sell. All he could do was carry shop cards and promotional books to visit the city's major households.

"Owner, here is the roster of my visits." Shen Fan drew a book from his sleeve and handed it to Guo Yi, who was now dressed entirely as a Ming person, even sporting a growing topknot.

Opening the book, Guo Yi found plum-red paper filled with rows of neat small calligraphy and marginal annotations: the Baixian Restaurant owner, the Governor-General's secretary, the Chen Grain Store manager, the Gongxing Pawnshop proprietor, Jinshi Zhao of Panyu, Gentry Ma of Nanhai... Those who were not wealthy were noble, or else some great mansion's chief steward, some official's concubine. A quick scan revealed eighty or ninety households.

"This many?" Guo Yi was surprised. Shen Fan had told him his planned visits would focus on the city's top-tier households—those spending anywhere from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands annually on jewelry and curiosities.

"Yes, owner. These are only the biggest. I haven't yet visited the smaller ones." Gao Lujie brought tea and towels. Shen Fan removed his cap and wiped the light sweat from his forehead. "Just the last few days' work. But there is one matter requiring the owner's instructions."

"Speak."

"The owner sells priceless treasures and curiosities. Handling so many major customers simultaneously—can your capital turnover manage such demands?"

Purple Treasure Studio conducting mansion business meant doing things the mansion way. By longstanding convention, such great households never paid cash for jewelry purchases—they simply opened an account at the jewelry shop. Whatever caught their eye, they registered and stamped in the ledger and took the goods home. Settlement came only at the three annual festivals: Dragon Boat, Mid-Autumn, and New Year.

This arrangement demanded enormous capital reserves from the shops. Jewelry and curiosities often cost thousands to tens of thousands of taels. Even with substantial capital, handling so many elite customers simultaneously was nearly impossible. Shen Fan feared this foreigner failed to understand these nuances and would overreach, ultimately bringing the whole enterprise crashing down.

(End of Chapter)