Chapter 197: Guo Yi's Report
Dusk draped itself over Guangzhou as lanterns flickered to life in windows throughout the city. For shopkeepers closing their doors, this was the anxious hour of reckoning—when the day's labors were weighed against the ledger's cold arithmetic. Old Manager Shen of Zizhenzhai sat among their number, his brow furrowed over the figures spread before him. He sighed occasionally, and any passerby glimpsing the scene would have assumed the old man fretted over failing accounts. After all, nearly half a month had passed since the shop's post-Lantern Festival opening. Surely the verdict was in by now.
Reality, however, told an entirely different tale.
Shen Fan had come to Zizhenzhai to honor a promise—nothing more. He had witnessed the shop's capabilities firsthand, true enough, but he had never believed that Guo Yi—a man without lineage or connections—could carve out a foothold in Guangzhou's cutthroat commercial world. Each proprietor had demonstrated remarkable competence during the frenetic opening preparations, yet Shen's unease had lingered. He feared they were overreaching, stretching themselves across too many ventures at once. But Zizhenzhai's transformation in the weeks since had shattered every expectation.
Across the ledger before him, certain figures commanded attention: January 20th: One pair of Western crystal cups, fifty taels silver, on account; Mr. Liu of the Liu Residence. One exquisite chiming clock, one hundred taels silver, on account; Mr. Wang of Baixianlou. Three Dragon-Eye Pearl necklaces, 1,200 taels, Mr. Chen of Chen Grain Depot, on account. Three Southern Barbarian Seven-Color Mood paintings, 600 taels silver, Young Master He of the Commander's Residence, paid in full... The running total exceeded twelve thousand one hundred and twelve taels.
In four decades of trade, Shen Fan had certainly encountered such sums before. But this was Zizhenzhai's revenue in barely ten days of operation—even for a man of his experience, the shop's money-making prowess was frankly terrifying. He had merely introduced Guo Yi to a handful of wealthy acquaintances around Guangzhou, yet the proprietor seemed to divine their preferences with uncanny precision, producing goods that captivated each and every one. The man's ability to read people, to understand their desires, left Shen in genuine awe.
As for the other two proprietors—one spent his days at the workshop overseeing the distillery workers, while the other labored alongside craftsmen over jewelry settings. Shen had known many proprietors and managers in his time, but never one who mingled so effortlessly among smoke-blackened artisans, laughing and joking as if they were equals. He had never imagined that Proprietor Yan was himself a craftsman by training, possessing skills that would command premium wages at any of Guangzhou's major jewelry houses. How had Guo Yi—a man whose bearing practically announced wealthy origins—come to partner with such a person? These musings Shen kept locked behind his placid expression.
Each day he received visiting dignitaries at the shop, attended to the managers and servants dispatched to inspect merchandise, and sent capable assistants forth with samples and catalogs to make their rounds. Between his own introductions and the seasoned staff inherited from Baohengxiang, business hummed along without friction.
What surprised him most was the system Proprietor Guo had implemented before the shop even opened—despite rarely interfering in daily operations. Staff were divided by function into sales, laborers, and craftsmen, each tier earning distinct treatment at different levels. Sales personnel earned more than laborers; craftsmen were compensated according to proven skill. The structure was utterly novel to Shen Fan. Beyond their fixed monthly salaries, sales staff earned commissions on their transactions—to be tallied and disbursed after the three festival settlements each year.
When Shen roughed out his own projected earnings, he sat stunned. Under this new system, his commission for the current month alone would exceed thirty taels. His highest annual salary before retirement had been a mere 240 taels. He shook his head, certain age had muddled his arithmetic, and worked the abacus again. The same figure stared back at him. At this rate, wouldn't his annual commissions alone surpass three hundred taels? Shen Fan was nearly dumbstruck. His current monthly stipend was already generous—360 taels per year, the highest of any jewelry shop manager in Guangzhou. But commissions on top of that?
He shook his head repeatedly. This wouldn't do. As the senior manager, how could he accept commissions? Better to let the young salesmen—Proprietor Guo called them "business staff"—reap those rewards.
The craftsmen and laborers received generous treatment as well, with pay scaled to skill. The highest-earning jewelry craftsman drew nearly ten taels a month; even the lowest made five qian. Then came Proprietor Guo's announcement of year-end profit sharing: annual profits would be divided into thirteen shares. The proprietors claimed ten, all sales staff split half a share, and craftsmen and laborers split another half. One share went to a "common fund" held by the shop for staff emergencies—illness, death, unexpected misfortune. The final share was designated "retirement money." Those who served diligently until age or infirmity claimed them would be supported in their twilight years and given proper burials from this pool.
When the system was unveiled, the entire shop stood in stunned silence. Could proprietors so kind-hearted actually exist? Shen Fan harbored no doubts about their sincerity—he was too worldly-wise for that. Guo Yi's benevolence was no performance; he genuinely cared for his workers. Elsewhere, shops provided staff two meals a day and considered the matter settled, but Proprietor Guo had declared: "How can you expect people to work hard on just two meals?" And changed it to three. Three meals a day. Shen Fan released a slow breath. He had toiled for over twenty years to reach a managerial position where such a privilege applied to him. At Zizhenzhai, even the lowliest apprentice enjoyed it. They had truly found a good master.
As for the lesser benefits—they were too numerous to catalog. The jewelry workshop ran hot, so they installed large windows to draw air through. Wooden buckets of cooling herbal tea stood ready inside. A well was dug in the courtyard, fitted with stone troughs where workers could wash after their shifts. Now they were erecting rows of new rooms on empty land—"dormitories," Proprietor Guo called them—so that staff wouldn't have to squeeze together on makeshift bedding strewn across the workshop, the shopfront, the corridors. With such investment in their welfare, no wonder the spirit at Zizhenzhai ran so high. Even Old Wang—the lowest-ranked watchman and gatekeeper—made his nightly rounds with diligent purpose. Every face in the shop radiated energy, enthusiasm, a kind of fire Shen Fan had never witnessed before. This wasn't the grim effort of people driven by desperation. It was the unmistakable bearing of men and women who felt they were working for themselves.
Watching Zizhenzhai flourish with such startling speed, Shen felt genuine happiness for his benefactor. Yet beneath the elation stirred something he could not name—a faint unease. Such smooth sailing was rarely an auspicious omen. He sighed softly and closed the ledger with care.
At that same hour, Guo Yi sat in a secluded safe house, his brush flying across the page:
"Report to the Executive Committee:
Having arrived in Guangzhou nearly three months ago, our team—in conjunction with Naval Department colleagues—has overcome the initial obstacles and established trade operations on a stable footing. To avoid direct competition with Gao Ju, we elected not to operate the egg mirrors ourselves. An agreement has been reached: Gao Ju will continue as sole distributor. His market control is excellent, maintaining a stable supply-and-price structure. From the standpoint of accelerating cash collection, retaining him as intermediary is the optimal arrangement.
Our primary profits currently derive from decorative glassware. Margins are narrow—Portuguese imports from Macau provide competing alternatives. Beyond that, glassware remains little more than a curiosity here; the general public shows minimal interest. There is, however, considerable demand for window glass in the luxury market. We observed small quantities of flat glass installed in a wealthy family's garden pavilion windows. The original purchase price was reportedly astronomical, yet foreign ships are reluctant to trade the item due to heavy breakage in transit. Demand exists, but supply does not.
Market testing of 'Guoshi Wushuang' liquor as presentation gifts has yielded satisfactory results. Most recipients were captivated by the glass bottles themselves. 'Guoshi Wushuang' has become the most fashionable gift circulating in Guangzhou's commercial and official circles, trending toward premium status. However, the initial bottle supply is exhausted and we cannot continue shipments. Request the Executive Committee arrange urgent bottle production.
Sample development of 'Tang Princess' for the European market is complete. We will soon conduct test sales in Macau. If results are favorable, request the Executive Committee allocate all inventory items catalogued JC-0083 (porcelain vases) to the Forward Station.
Experimental sales of 16-page AV albums through certain specialized channels have proven invaluable, significantly alleviating our initial cash shortage. Given the sensitive nature of these goods and their unsuitability for sustained trade, we request the Executive Committee expedite tobacco and simple light-industrial goods production. Quality tobacco leaf can be sourced locally in Guangzhou.
Additionally, the Leizhou outpost establishment nears completion. We have opened a Qiwei Escort Bureau branch in Haikang County seat, along with a lodging house for mules and horses. Acquisitions include three pressing mills—one water-powered, two animal-powered—and five sugarcane plantations totaling 1,200 standard mu of cane fields. In Xuwen County seat, we have opened one warehouse, acquired two pressing mills, and purchased four sugarcane plantations totaling 1,400 standard mu combined. Local harvesting has commenced. Request the Executive Committee urgently dispatch specialists to Leizhou to oversee sugar operations."
Guo Yi exhaled and glanced up at Zhang Yuchen, who was chattering away enthusiastically with Zhang Yu over the radio. The otaku had transformed into a genuine ham operator. Lacking QQ, he had taught himself to flirt via Morse code. His enthusiasm for the radio was such that he practically refused to relinquish it, requiring a sturdy worker to pedal a bicycle outside each day just to keep the batteries charged.
"With that much enthusiasm, Li Chiqi's going to murder you," Guo Yi muttered. He consulted his notebook and resumed writing:
"Personnel recruitment: Beyond the staff and craftsmen recruited directly for the Forward Station, we have engaged approximately thirty additional skilled tradesmen through local managers. They have agreed to work in Lingao but are unwilling to relocate their families. All have stipulated a one-year trial period, after which they will evaluate conditions before committing further. Once terms are finalized, we will formalize contracts. Please dispatch a vessel to collect them at the earliest opportunity.
Regarding population acquisition in Guangzhou, we have established a cooperative relationship with local gentry member Liang Cunhou. We recruit famine refugees under the pretext of land reclamation; he manages all dealings with officials. As a gesture of partnership, the Forward Station has donated 1,000 taels to the charitable hall he oversees under the Zichengji name. At present, tens of thousands of refugees crowd Guangzhou and its environs. How many can Lingao absorb?
Finances: Cumulative sales have reached 12,000 taels silver. Due to differences between local trading conventions and those we are accustomed to, major retail customers universally operate on credit. Converting sales and profits to liquid capital remains difficult; the ledger figures are impressive on paper. The Forward Station has already expended substantial funds establishing outposts, shops, and personnel. We request authorization to draw 10,000 taels from payments owed by Gao Ju to fund our next operational phase.
Request that the Finance and Currency Committee urgently establish expense procedures and reimbursement protocols for the Forward Station, enabling us to standardize our financial system."
Guo Yi paused, his mind drifting to the thick ledger of transactions and the stack of handwritten receipts locked in the safe. Over these past months, money had poured through their hands like water—and in this timespace there were no invoices, only the handwritten chits that accompanied every expenditure. He could say in all honesty that not a single wen had gone toward personal indulgence, and he would vouch for every member of the Station's personnel. But this state of affairs could not persist indefinitely. Better for the Finance Department to codify procedures so everyone had regulations to follow—otherwise, any future inquiry would lead to an inextricable morass.
"...Outpost construction: Beyond the primary commercial firm Zichengji, there is one jewelry shop—Zizhenzhai (local manager, reliable)—and one high-end entertainment establishment, Ziminglou. The three establishments currently break even operationally. Overall projections estimate revenue of approximately 20,000 taels over the next three months, assuming no new merchandise..."
Guo Yi rolled his aching shoulders and continued:
"Intelligence construction: The street-level collection network led by Gao Di has commenced operations. Gao Di is serviceable, but his father's position remains ambiguous. If feasible, it would be prudent to relocate his parents to Lingao for integration, lest he waver—
National and Guangdong official and gentry directories have been obtained and will be dispatched with the departing vessel. Channels for acquiring copies of the dibao (official gazette) are also now in place.
The Forward Station has invested 2,000 taels to renovate a three-story pavilion on busy Gaodi Street in Guangzhou, temporarily designated Ziminglou, for use by intelligence specialist PEPI. Agent PEPI has caused considerable sensation among Guangzhou's officials and gentry. Reports indicate she has grown quite close to He Rubin, the Guangzhou Commander's son, and visits the Commander's residence with some frequency."
When the figure known as Pei Lixiu first appeared before the public at Ziminglou, the sensation had been nothing short of seismic. The meticulously contrived lighting effects proved well worth the investment. Who would have guessed that Ming dynasty celebrity devotees could match modern fans for sheer fanaticism? But if they only knew what PEPI actually was... The thought struck Guo Yi with sudden force, and he had to suppress the urge to hurl down his brush and burst into laughter.
(End of Chapter)