Chapter 277: Sweet Port Turbulence – Rice and Sugar Prices

"Not now," Chang Shide said. "Explanations would take too long. First, let's print some kind of passbook to record the amounts. That way the cane farmers have something tangible to hold, and it'll be easier to gather them for a meeting later."

Wen Tong smiled. "Good thinking. Where'd you come up with that?"

"You know those health product salesmen? They hook people in with free health checkups. If you don't dangle some small benefit first, who's going to sit through your pitch?"

"But how should we print these passbooks? They need to be reusable, with space for entries." Wen Tong hesitated. "Should we ask Lingao for help?"

Liao Daxing spoke up. "This isn't difficult at all. It's just making small booklets for the cane farmers. Any paper shop can do it."

The transmigrators all turned to look at him in unison. Chang Shide raised an eyebrow. "They have passbooks here too?"

Liao Daxing seemed confused by their surprise. "Of course. Every shop has them." He produced a booklet from his sleeve and handed it over. Wen Tong unfolded it and found neat columns of small script recording transaction dates and amounts, with both parties' personal seals stamped at the top.

"This is from the grain trader who delivers our provisions."

"Perfect—we'll use this format," Wen Tong said happily. "Let's order three thousand to start."

Liao Daxing blanched. Three thousand right off the mark—every paper shop in all of Leizhou could be turned upside down and still not produce that many. He quickly said, "There's no such supply available. In my humble opinion, this style of booklet is also too large. Since it won't see heavy use, we should just have smaller ones custom-made immediately. They'll be faster to produce and cheaper too."

So the matter was settled. The group then discussed various arrangements for opening day. What gave Wen Tong a headache was the matter of raising silver. He had long since learned that this region exported over two hundred thousand shi of sugar annually. By his estimate, most of it would still be purchased by the trading houses of the Haiyi Guild, and their side could probably acquire around twenty thousand shi. That would require roughly 50,000 taels of silver. When the Guangzhou Station had arranged for the Qiwei Escort Agency to establish itself in Leizhou, they had deposited 10,000 taels locally. Wen Tong had brought another 3,000 when he arrived. But this money had been nearly exhausted on infrastructure, settler provisions, and cultivating relationships with local officials. The only funds available now were the 10,000 taels sitting in Guangzhou.

That amount fell far short. The Guangzhou Station was certainly willing to provide full support—they claimed they could allocate 100,000 taels at any time—but the Ming Dynasty had no remittance institutions. Silver had to be physically transported over a thousand li, which felt terrifyingly insecure.

After racking their brains without finding a suitable solution, Chang Shide finally took Liao Daxing out for a stroll around the county seat to clear his head. This was his only hobby besides training his female slaves: donning a silk zhiduo robe and striding proudly down the dusty dirt streets. His unusual height, powerful build, and fair skin made passersby step aside in awe—the feeling of being someone important was quite gratifying.

As he strolled, Chang Shide quickly noticed a peculiar phenomenon: prices in Xuwen were remarkably high.

In the past, when Liao Dahua had purchased grain for the migrants, he'd reported expenses of 2 taels per shi. Chang Shide had once suspected Liao Dahua of skimming profits, but after several months of observation, he discovered that while grain prices fluctuated, they had never dropped below 2 taels, and were in fact trending upward. This despite Lingao being just across the Qiongzhou Strait, where grain prices had never exceeded 1.5 taels even at their peak.

Beyond grain, everything here cost more than in Lingao—firewood, ironware, cloth, even ordinary household jars and pots. This disparity had been even more glaring during their construction phase. Moreover, copper coins were rarely used here; most transactions were conducted in silver. For small payments, people used a specially minted silver pellet. The phenomenon fascinated Chang Shide. Though he hadn't formally studied economics, he understood basic economic principles—clearly, silver was more devalued here than in Lingao.

"Manager Liao," Chang Shide asked, "why is the price of rice so high in Xuwen?"

"You've asked the right person." This topic was Liao Daxing's specialty. "I used to work in the grain trade. It's not just Xuwen—even Haikang has terrifyingly high rice prices. Only Suixi is somewhat better. The reason is simple: growing sugarcane is more profitable. Everyone converts their paddy fields to sugarcane, and when there's not enough food, it has to be shipped in from elsewhere. Naturally, prices climb."

"I see." Chang Shide nodded thoughtfully.

"That's exactly how it is!" Liao Daxing continued. "Sugarcane is extremely demanding—it needs abundant water, heavy fertilization, and intensive labor. Once you plant sugarcane, nobody has the capacity to work paddy fields anymore."

"Where does the outside grain come from?"

"It's shipped by sea, mostly from northern Guangdong. Sea travel is unpredictable—pirates, storms, shipwrecks. Losses can be enormous. Since shipping here is difficult, prices naturally soar."

Seeing that Chang Shide hadn't responded, Liao Daxing licked his lips and ventured a smile. "Actually, I have another thought, though I'm not certain it's correct..."

"Let's hear it."

"In my humble opinion, the key is that Leizhou simply has too much silver."

Chang Shide stopped walking and glanced at him with genuine surprise. He had assumed people of this era wouldn't grasp this principle—that they would equate precious metals directly with wealth itself.

"That makes sense!" Chang Shide immediately regarded this former grain-house clerk with newfound respect.

"Yes," Liao Daxing said, emboldened by his approval. "Leizhou exports over two hundred thousand shi of sugar every year, bringing in four or five hundred thousand taels of silver. With so much silver circulating, naturally all goods become expensive."

"Yes, things are expensive here, but sugar is something everyone wants," Chang Shide mused. He seemed to dimly perceive a solution taking shape in his mind.

"Manager Liao, how are the cane farmers' returns these days?"

"Not bad, I suppose. Whatever the case, it's far better than growing rice."

"Mm." Chang Shide asked another question. "Do any ships from here sail to Champa?"

"What for, going to Champa?" Liao Daxing found this peculiar. "Nobody here does overseas trade."

The outline of a plan was gradually crystallizing in Chang Shide's mind. Somewhat excitedly, he clapped Liao Daxing on the shoulder. "Let's go. Back we go."

That evening, unwilling to wait for the slow carrier pigeon relay through Guangzhou, he wrote a coded letter directly and instructed the Qiwei Escort Agency to dispatch someone to Lingao by ship at first light. This matter required the Foreign Affairs Ministry's cooperation.

Chang Shide's plan was elegantly simple:

Since silver wasn't worth much in Leizhou, using cash to purchase raw sugar wasn't the smartest business strategy.

Leizhou had too much silver, making everything expensive. Using a commodity that everyone needed and that already commanded a high price to exchange for raw sugar would be a far shrewder approach. That commodity was rice.

If rice was shipped the traditional way from northern Guangdong, the sea voyage was too long and the risks too great.

So his thinking was this: ship sugar from Leizhou to Vietnam and sell it there. Vietnam didn't grow sugarcane, so sugar prices would be very high. On the other hand, Vietnamese rice was famously cheap. The rice obtained in exchange for the sugar could then be paid to cane farmers at Leizhou's inflated prices as payment for their sugar. This essentially meant earning double profits.

But this involved trading with Vietnam, and Chang Shide didn't understand Vietnamese trade regulations, didn't know the sea conditions along the Vietnamese coast, and didn't know local rice and sugar prices. Rashly organizing ships to sail to Vietnam would obviously be reckless.

The Foreign Affairs Ministry didn't dare delay upon receiving his letter and immediately reported to the Executive Committee. Before long, all departments were in motion. The Intelligence Committee quickly confirmed that the plan was feasible: the Portuguese had once transported Chinese sugar to Vietnam and sold it at 8 taels per shi—double the English purchase price in Guangzhou! The enormous profits of maritime trade made everyone restless. Demands poured in for the Executive Committee to immediately open the door to Vietnamese trade.

"The time has come. Vietnam's abundant resources can no longer be left slumbering," zealots agitated at the enlarged Executive Committee meeting. "Let's turn it into our raw materials base and market!"

"Armed expedition!"

"Where cannons lead, trade follows!"

"Let us install a few cannons on Vietnam's coastline and thereby enslave an entire nation!"

"It would be best to establish the Vietnam trade route as soon as possible." Ma Qianzhu wasn't particularly interested in sugar-for-rice trading, but he'd been coveting Hongji's coal for ages.

Thus the plan to open trade with Vietnam was finalized. Considering that Vietnam's political situation was rather chaotic at this time—with the Northern and Southern Courts locked in confrontation, and the Dutch and Portuguese lurking in the background, plus the Jesuits having their fingers in everything—the conflicting interests were complex. In the end, they decided to enter in a relatively low-profile manner.

The trading situation between Vietnam's Northern and Southern Courts and China was as follows: entering a Northern Court port required an annual fee of 1,000 taels. The Southern Court had opened one city specifically for Chinese trade. The Transmigration Collective chose to enter northern Lê Dynasty territory, which had not only rice but also coal, and was relatively closer to both Hainan and the Leizhou Peninsula.

The ship the Executive Committee dispatched to Vietnam was the Great Whale, the same transport vessel that had previously come to Leizhou. Though the attempt to use it as a container ship had failed, its wide hull and large cargo capacity remained obvious advantages. Its shallow draft was well-suited to the typically shallow waters and poorly equipped docks of this era. As for its somewhat slower speed, that wasn't too problematic—the sailing voyage to Vietnam's Hongji area wouldn't take more than two days.

The Great Whale came to Leizhou and loaded 1,000 shi of raw brown sugar at Hai'an port. To ensure the ship's safety, it temporarily carried four 12-pound howitzers and one infantry platoon—serving as both bodyguards and laborers. The person commanding this operation was none other than Chang Shide himself.

As for the essential translator, neither Lingao nor Leizhou could solve this problem. Though they were close by, no one had ever gone to Vietnam to do business. Guo Yi had originally tried to find someone among the sea merchants in Guangzhou, but the clannish, insular nature of the sea merchant community made such recruitment completely ineffective. In the end, they thought of the Jesuits in Macau. This organization had tentacles everywhere and went anywhere. Zhang Xin rushed to Macau and found Father Louis.

With Father Louis's help, Zhang Xin recruited a down-on-his-luck former petty pirate leader named Zhang Dabala in Macau. This man was dark, corpulent, and bore a large scar across his face, which had earned him the nickname—as for his real name, even he himself could barely remember it. He had originally served under Yang Liu and Yang Qi. After the Two Yangs' defeat, Zhang Dabala, having saved up a tidy sum, fled to Macau. The old pirate, riddled with wounds that ached every rainy day, was starting to feel his age and wanted to retire comfortably. But he got swindled in Macau and lost everything. Having spent his life as a pirate and knowing no trade, he soon ended up on the streets, surviving on Jesuit charity. Eventually, for the sake of two bowls of thin rice porridge a day, he got baptized and joined the church—now he was a fellow believer.

Though Zhang Dabala was past his fighting days, he was still a weathered old sea dog familiar with the routes throughout Southeast Asia. He also spoke several languages, including Vietnamese and Malay.

Zhang Xin recognized immediately that he was a suitable candidate. He hired him on the spot, making clear that he wouldn't need to risk his life—just interpret. Twelve Spanish dollars a month. Zhang Dabala, who'd been sipping thin gruel until he was sick of it, immediately boarded their pirate ship.

Just before the Great Whale departed from the Hai'an Street dock, Chang Shide gave his final instructions to Wen Tong. "Old Wen, this trip will take at least ten days or so. The buildings are pretty much done now—don't wait any longer. You go ahead and start purchasing sugar. We have 10,000 taels of silver to work with. That should be enough to hold until I get back."

"Good." Wen Tong gripped his hand firmly. What a great comrade—not only coming up with such a brilliant idea but also volunteering to sail to unfamiliar Vietnam to conduct trade and open new frontiers. Then he turned and saw A-Xiu carrying a basket, waiting to board. He thought this fellow was really quite hopeless.

Chang Shide shamelessly commandeered a private cabin and had A-Xiu set it up as a cozy little nest. Then he lounged comfortably, waiting for the ship to arrive at Ha Long.

The ship sailed for two days at sea. Finally—

They got lost.

"Where are we?"

"Should be Ha Long Bay, I think." Le Lin held a sextant and mumbled uncertainly. He was the ship's temporary captain.

"What do you mean 'should be'?" Bei Kai finally exploded amid his seasickness misery. He'd been selected for the Vietnam trade delegation purely because he looked Vietnamese. Since yesterday, the Great Whale had entered a relatively calm bay. The bay was dotted with various small islands, somewhat scenic. But they had no idea which direction to sail to reach Hongji.

Le Lin's latitude and longitude calculations had been wildly inconsistent, with errors so large that no one trusted his measurements. Some had been grumbling that they should have hired a local helmsman rather than letting this amateur navigate.

"You take the helm." Chang Shide finally kicked Le Lin aside and called Zhang Dabala over to pilot the ship.

(End of Chapter)