Chapter 900 – Zhao Yingong's Private School

Mei Lin watched Zhao Yingong stroll into the study wearing a blue Hu-silk straight robe, a gilded fan in hand, a carefree headcloth on his head—utterly elegant and dashing. He couldn't help but feel a stab of envy and resentment. Fortunately, Fenghua's appearance did nothing for him; otherwise, his inner imbalance would have been worse.

Zhao Yingong had no idea what was going on in Mei Lin's head. Since they were both transmigrators, he dispensed with formalities. "What is it?"

"I just came down from the construction site. Have your girl get me some water to drink." Mei Lin's displeasure made his words and manner somewhat coarse.

Zhao Yingong was a perceptive man. He immediately sensed something was off, so without a word he rose, opened the liquor cabinet, and took out a bottle of kvass. He personally opened it and brought it over.

"The weather's getting a bit hot. Better to have a cool drink."

Mei Lin grabbed the glass bottle and drained half of it in one gulp. Then he wiped his lips, caught his breath, and said:

"The work on the bookshop is basically done. There are still some small finishing touches, but we're just waiting for the shipment from Lingao now."

Zhao Yingong nodded. "You've been the one working hard these past days. It really has been tough on you."

"I don't care about hard work or not—I want to go to Nanjing again." Mei Lin was direct and made no attempt to hide his intentions.

Zhao Yingong frowned inwardly. There was simply no one available to go to Nanjing right now. If he let Mei Lin go alone, he'd be uneasy—after all, Mei Lin was only on temporary assignment and hadn't received much overseas training. He could easily slip up. If he caused some incident in Nanjing, dealing with it would be troublesome.

But Mei Lin had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the Hangzhou station's construction project. To flatly refuse would seem heartless, and Mei Lin would surely hold a grudge. In the future, Zhao Yingong would need the Construction Company's expertise for many things...

For now, there was no way to arrange someone to accompany him to Nanjing. After a long pause, Zhao Yingong remembered the flower boats on the Qiantang River and West Lake. Why not arrange a flower-wine banquet right here in Hangzhou for Mei Lin and the other transmigrators on assignment? One slap killing seven or eight flies—everyone taken care of. As for whether the other transmigrators would be impressed by the boat girls, that was their own affair.

"Nanjing isn't possible right now—there's no one available. Let's just have a banquet on West Lake. Are Hangzhou's beauties really inferior to the Qinhuai courtesans?" Zhao Yingong waved his fan. "I'll charter a pleasure boat on the lake specifically for everyone's entertainment. Besides, one of the Eight Beauties has long since passed away, and the other seven are all very young—some aren't even in Nanjing. You'd make a special trip to the Qinhuai River and still wouldn't see them..."

"Because they're young, that's why..." Mei Lin muttered resentfully. Suddenly realizing this might make him sound like a pervert, he hastily added, "Young people are easier to educate. Once they've officially debuted, it's much harder to change their thinking..."

"Old Mei, think about it. If you educate them according to our ideas, would they still be the Eight Beauties of Qinhuai?" Zhao Yingong pointed out. "Environment is everything. If you transplant them into our social environment, how different would they really be from the girls at Lingao's National School?"

Mei Lin was helpless. Zhao Yingong's argument was airtight; he couldn't think of a counter. Truth be told, he wasn't obsessed with women per se—he just wanted to experience a "fantasy scenario" he'd dreamed about back when he was a student.

He said listlessly, "Fine. Arrange whatever you want."

Zhao Yingong smiled. "The Eight Beauties aren't going anywhere." He changed the subject. "Why not today? Since the bookshop is finished, the first of the fifth lunar month is coming up in a few days. There'll be dragon boat racing on West Lake—let's go see the spectacle and have a bit of fun."

Mei Lin had nothing to say to that. Zhao Yingong immediately summoned sedan chairs and headed with Mei Lin to their Qinghefang residence.

Qinghefang had been under renovation for months now, so Zhao Yingong had moved to Phoenix Hill Villa—the Hangzhou station was based there.

The sedan arrived at Qinghefang. Cai Shi was at the gate, supervising workers and laborers hauling out debris and various materials. The street, once covered in mud and rubble, had been swept clean. The entire lane, previously paved haphazardly with broken stones, was now laid with flagstones. This gesture had left the Qinghefang neighbors with a new appreciation for "Master Zhao's" generosity.

Originally, there had been only one main gate and one side gate. Now the property had two main entrances. On the left was the original residence; on the right was the "Wanbi Bookshop." This entirely new building occupied most of the old residence's ruined garden. The design featured a storefront in front and a printing workshop behind. Behind the workshop were workers' dormitories. On one side of the bookshop was a modest garden for customers who came to browse books, drink tea, and chat.

This garden was still empty and undecorated. The master garden designer Sun Wangcai had hired hadn't arrived yet. When it came to building traditional gardens, Mei Lin had decided not to embarrass himself—Jiangsu and Zhejiang were already the main stages for the era's top garden designers.

The original residence's layout had also been partially remodeled, with interior spaces re-divided according to old-timeline architectural concepts. Lighting and plumbing had been improved. After all, this was Zhao Yingong's "face" for his activities in Hangzhou. Mei Lin had retained as many traditional elements as possible in the design, so it wouldn't be shockingly unconventional, while still ensuring sufficient comfort for those living within.

Zhao Yingong walked and looked, feeling quite satisfied. His only reservation was about the extensive use of glass windows. Even in Guangzhou, this was something only wealthy gentry could afford—Lingao-made flat glass for lighting was extremely expensive. Using this much glass in Hangzhou all at once might seem outlandish. Then again, if he wanted to make a name for himself in Hangzhou, he needed to be distinctive.

Passing through the main courtyard, Mei Lin led him through a side moon gate into a small courtyard. It contained only a single small room; two magnolias and two osmanthus trees grew in the yard. There was another moon gate. Mei Lin led him through. Inside was a different world: a spacious compound with high walls. The buildings within were modern-style two-story brick structures. The courtyard was paved with lime-whitened yellow sand. Flower beds and exercise equipment lined the perimeter. It looked very much like a primary school.

This was the dormitory where Zhao Yingong housed the orphans he'd taken in. He intended to personally educate a group of orphans. For convenient daily instruction, he'd built this courtyard within the Qinghefang residence as the Hangzhou station's school.

The school was located deep within the property, adjacent to Zhao Yingong's inner study, bedroom, and meeting room—an extremely secluded and hidden environment. With its multiple locked doors, no one could reach this place without a guide.

"This can accommodate up to forty-eight children, half boys and half girls," Mei Lin explained. "The upper floor is dormitories; each room can hold up to six people. I designed it with left and right staircases and a central partition to separate boys and girls."

The ground floor had classrooms; a dining hall that doubled as an activity room and reading room; and a small library. Beside the building were dedicated kitchens, laundry rooms, and storage rooms. There was even a large classroom designated for use as a handicrafts workshop. Facilities were comprehensive—a truly self-contained little world.

The Hangzhou station's school was essentially Zhao Yingong's "private academy." His plan was to personally train twenty or thirty children here as his future agents—or, one might say, adopted children. Of course, only the cleverest, most perceptive, and most loyal to both the cause and to him personally would have any chance of bearing his surname.

Zhao Yingong was very pleased after inspecting it. Though the construction of Wanbi Bookshop and Phoenix Hill Villa had consumed most of the funds he'd brought, and many of the materials and equipment had been allocated for free from Lingao, he firmly believed that once the bookshop project launched, the current tight financial situation would quickly improve.

The branches of Wanyou, Qiwei, and Delong led by the Hangzhou station had opened one after another across Jiangnan. Once these branches began operating, they could provide the station with some financial support. The Colonial Trade Department planned to sell Australian goods directly in Jiangnan through Wanyou. Once sales began, silver would pour in.

Once he'd built a network of connections among the gentry and had the ability to protect himself, he'd deal directly in silk and tea—even without local customers, Lingao's Colonial Trade Department had an enormous appetite. Just days ago, Skard had sent him a telegram asking him to survey how much raw silk and silk fabric could be purchased annually in Hangzhou, and what the local silk production capacity was. The Colonial Trade Department was also keenly interested in Zhejiang tea. The telegram asked Zhao Yingong to report on local tea supplies and market conditions, and whether it would be possible to set up a factory locally to manufacture brick tea.

Europeans at this time didn't drink tea, but the Later Jin had a very strong demand for it. Because of the Ming blockade, they could only obtain small amounts through smuggling channels or from Korea—at high prices. Tea could serve as Lingao's primary export to the Later Jin, and could also be sold to Mongolia through them.

Thinking of silk and tea, Zhao Yingong suddenly remembered something. He could set up a sericulture school here in Hangzhou—in this era, it could be called something like a "workhouse for paupers." The Nature Society should have specialists in sericulture. He could invite one over to teach a normal class first, then use normal-class graduates as instructors—just as Fei Xiaotong had done when he founded the women's sericulture college.

Running a sericulture school would of course let him retain students for his own use, but the greatest benefit was that it would give him legitimate cover for recruiting and sheltering large numbers of refugee children and women. Then he could set up a practical training workshop and promote semi-mechanized filature factories... His mind began spinning with countless schemes.

Mei Lin knew what he was thinking and shook his head. "Stop daydreaming. Take one bite at a time. First get the bookshop sorted out, then we'll talk."

Zhao Yingong was jolted back to reality by his words. He gave a dry laugh. "Let's go take a look at the bookshop."