Chapter 527 - The Guangzhou Proposal

"Where exactly do we source this 'sand'?" Zhang Yuchen asked, frowning. "Escort work demands specialized training. You can't just round up refugees and expect them to perform."

"We won't use ordinary refugees. We need proper personnel trained in Lingao," Yan Maoda replied. "Remember Zhou Shizhai from Rising Power? He's serving as a guest adviser in Public Security now. Boss Sun speaks highly of him; the man knows every trick in the escort trade. We should have him handle the professional training. As we establish our commercial fronts, we'll gradually insert these new men, eventually breaking up that insular Jiangxi clique currently running Rising Power. Ideally, we'll absorb some of them into other departments in Lingao."

Meng Xian, the increasingly prominent chief manager of the Delon Bank in Guangzhou, absently stroked his new whiskers. He was growing them out to counter his youthful appearance, which sometimes made major clients hesitate. "No need to worry about Rising Power getting ideas," he said. "We control the purse strings. What good is their solidarity? The moment Delon freezes their accounts, Rising Power shuts down."

Zhang Xin laughed. "Who freezes their own account? Old Yan, aren't you being paranoid? Creating a crisis where there is none. Rising Power today isn't the agency of the past. Without our management, Sun Kecheng probably couldn't even list all the enterprises under his banner, let alone run them."

The commercial properties nominally under Rising Power—inns, restaurants, warehouses, logistics, and shipping—were now firmly under Yan Maoda's control. While escort agencies traditionally operated ancillary businesses like warehouses and mule inns, their antiquated business philosophy and management style could not compete with modern methods. As the Guangzhou Station expanded its investments, Yan Maoda had completely subsumed this sector. Sun Kecheng didn't mind; he and his men were martial artists, not merchants. As long as the Australian managers continued to invest and expand the business, he was content to sit back, share the profits, and find decent jobs for his townsmen and relatives.

"Exactly!" Meng Xian added brashly. "Financial and managerial authority are in our hands. Sun Kecheng only controls the muscle."

"I never said Rising Power would revolt. Old Sun is reliable. But local cliques are harmful to the organization," Yan Maoda said, picking up a water pipe. In Guangzhou's wealthy circles, fashionable paper cigarettes were in vogue, but Yan Maoda had gone native. His pipe was a masterpiece worth over fifty taels: fine white copper engraved with intricate patterns and inlaid with pearls, crystal, and agate—crafted by the master jewelers of Purple Treasure Studio. A delicate Eight-Treasure openwork silk cover, painstakingly stitched by his chambermaid over a month, protected it from the winter chill.

He lit a jasmine-scented paper spill from a candle and unified flame and tobacco himself. Outside, a servant would handle this; in the mansion, a personal maid. But here in the safe house, they dropped the pretenses.

He took a few deep puffs, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Rising Power's status must be resolved. Their escorts are deployed across our various enterprises for security. Their reliability is critical." He paused for another drag. "There's a deeper concern. We sell 'Australian goods'; our connection to the Australian merchants—or the fact that we are Australians—is an open secret among Guangzhou's elite. If Lingao clashes with the Great Ming, Rising Power's stance becomes uncertain. Sun and his core brothers are honorable, but the agency has expanded too fast. Who knows if rogues have slipped in? If Sun is forced to distance himself from us, our entire network in Guangdong collapses."

The other three nodded grimly.

"I think we need to standardize our narrative," Zhang Xin said. "First, we must categorically deny we are Australians."

This went without saying. They now held formal Great Ming household registrations; claiming overseas origin would only invite disaster.

"Second, regarding the source of goods—there's no need to hide it. It comes from Lingao. The news of Lingao's great iron ship and the regular Gaoguang Shipping runs is hardly a secret in Guangzhou anymore."

"We've all considered this," Guo Yi interjected, sipping his cold tea. "I wonder if we should fragment Rising Power rather than hanging everything under one banner. Their ties to the three Purple-family enterprises are too visible. Any observer can see the connection. If the Guangzhou Station ever has to go underground or withdraw, Rising Power will be implicated."

Yan Maoda nodded. "Correct. Moving forward, our national expansion shouldn't use the Rising Power name. Once we've openly broken with the Ming, we should move quickly to secure Guangdong and Guangxi, but pushing north won't happen overnight."

The group debated how to restructure the agency.

"Why don't we submit a reorganization proposal for Rising Power at the General Assembly?" Zhang Xin suggested.

"That's off-topic," Meng Xian waved a hand dismissively. "The Assembly is for electing a new Executive Committee and setting grand strategy. Rising Power's internal structure is an operational detail."

"Whether it counts or not, bringing proposals is better than arriving empty-handed," Guo Yi argued. "It shows we take the General Assembly seriously."

Yan Maoda smiled. "Actually, we have a much better proposal." He paused for effect. "It concerns Xiao Guo's status—and others in his situation. They can't remain 'temporary' forever. We need a formal ruling."

Zhang Xin nodded vigorously. "Yes, that is a major issue."

"I absolutely support Guo Yi receiving the same treatment as everyone else: full voting rights and shares," Meng Xian stated. "Anyone who disagrees can go screw themselves."

"Xiao Meng, that's not appropriate…" Guo Yi murmured, worried that Meng Xian's foul language might slip out at the Assembly and damage their cause.

"Given the Guangzhou Station's track record over the past year, the results speak for themselves. If someone with such contributions isn't a comrade, who is?" Yan Maoda said. "Anyone opposing your rights is rotten to the core."

Pepi pursued her lips. "Xiao Guo is the best. Why shouldn't he be equal? If anyone makes trouble, I'll go find Director Ma personally!" She struck a pose, hands on her slender hips.

Zhang Xin laughed. "Exactly. Xiao Guo earned his place long ago. In my view, the two from ATF and the four members of the Ming family should also have equal rights. Forget the size of the contribution—we all came on the same boat. Unless someone is actively sabotaging us, we should all be equal. There's no reason to artificially distinguish 'permanent' from 'temporary' in this timeline."

"I agree," Zhang Yuchen said. "We've crossed into a new world—are we really going to maintain a caste system of regular and temporary workers?"

Guo Yi was touched by their support. He offered a few words of thanks, then pivoted back to business. "What worries me is that some people at the Assembly may attack our lifestyle. Does anyone have a strategy for that? If questions explain our spending, we need an answer."

Silence fell around the table. In terms of comfort, the Guangzhou Station staff were likely the most privileged of all transmigrators. Even Meng Xian, a newcomer, lived like a lord. Posing as major merchants required a certain level of opulence; they couldn't appear shabby. But the "woman problem"—the issue causing the greatest uproar back in Lingao—was hardly a blip in Guangzhou.

Guo Yi was relatively cautious, keeping only one chambermaid. Yan Maoda and Zhang Xin each had two. Meng Xian, young and vigorous, had already acquired four maids and concubines. Zhang Yuchen, harboring feelings for Zhang Yu, had discreetly taken only one.

"According to Zhang Yu, Chang Shide in Leizhou has become a target," Zhang Yuchen said. "People are accusing him of embezzlement—buying women with public funds, using his position for private gain. The heat is intense. Someone has already proposed a hearing, demanding he explain himself. He'll have a tough time at the Assembly."

"Honestly, Old Chang's situation is blown out of proportion!" Zhang Xin said indignantly. "How much could a few women cost? Besides, opening a station in Leizhou requires servants for the household—it's incidental. I'll be blunt: if you don't sleep with a woman a few times and 'break her in,' she'll feel you don't trust her."

Meng Xian nodded vigorously. "Shiba! Exactly right. Take my maids—before I bedded them, they were like wooden dummies…"

Pepi frowned. "Too vulgar. All this 'bedded' talk—can't you men discuss something else?"

"That's the point," Zhang Xin said, waving his hand carelessly. "Even back in the old world—if a couple dates for a while and nothing happens, can you really say there's feeling?"

"Old Chang is just like us. Having women around is normal here; not having them would be strange," Yan Maoda reasoned. "We should remind the new leadership not to split hairs on this issue. We're in the 17th century, after all."

(End of Chapter)