Chapter 1071 - Business in the Capital

Wu Kaidi had, after all, spent a decade accompanying his master in the Capital. Running errands had given him considerable experience, and through whispered exchanges among servants, he had learned no small number of corruption and fraud techniques.

"These eunuchs are masters at eating men without spitting the bones. If he swindles tens of thousands of taels without lifting a finger, wouldn't we still have to pay him his dividends here without a penny less? We're making concessions for the greater interest."

He considered for a moment. "Perhaps the Master worries too much? Your relationship with Eunuch Yang is no ordinary one—how much silver has he deposited in this house alone? Besides, he still holds shares here. What benefit does he gain from cheating you? Furthermore, when he approaches Wang Dehua on our behalf, he's sending silver to Wang Dehua—and Wang Dehua must appreciate the gesture. Eunuch Yang would welcome such an opportunity to earn outside silver. Otherwise, how else does he curry favor with his superiors?"

"True enough!" Leng Ningyun pressed a hand to his forehead. Wu Kaidi made a fair point. "But I remain uneasy..."

In his previous life, Leng Ningyun had worked in finance. He had witnessed entire cohorts of brokers in the shadow of the Capital who pulled tiger skins as banners, buying and selling empty air. They could swindle hundreds of thousands—millions—from provincial marks without doing a thing.

"What the Master says also has merit." Wu Kaidi replied. "I'll go out and ask around right now. Get you some solid intelligence."

Running out to buy the Dibao—the Capital Gazette—was an essential part of Wu Kaidi's daily schedule. Afterward, he would make rounds to the gates of various officials and major businesses with connections, chatting with doorkeepers, listening for news. Much of the Capital intelligence Leng Ningyun collected actually came through these channels.

"Also—anything about the Dengzhou Mutiny. Ask around more."

"Yes, understood."

While Wu Kaidi went out to gather information, Leng Ningyun swung his numb legs off the heated kang. Massaging his legs and feet, he walked with evident displeasure to a hidden door secured by a combination lock.

Through the door lay a windowless room—the local "Safe House." Its area was substantial; by traditional Chinese architectural standards, this was a space three bays wide. Rows of large red sandalwood cabinets lined the walls. In the center stood a substantial painting table, flanked by several chairs. Blackboards occupied strategic positions throughout.

Leng Ningyun lit the gas lamp on the table. The room flooded with brightness.

Only three people had access to this place: himself, his assistant Wu Kaidi, and his confidential secretary who doubled as radio operator.

He approached a numbered red sandalwood cabinet.

Opening the door revealed densely packed binders. These cabinets contained all intelligence materials on the Capital—officials of every rank in various yamen, clerks, owners and managers of major businesses, right down to shop assistants, servants, maids, gatekeepers, and cooks. The list was comprehensive. Key figures also had brief biographies. Beyond that was "black material" on these individuals—any damaging information, whether hearsay or fact. Wu Kaidi reported to him in detail every day, and he would summarize it into case files.

What great figures believed were closely guarded secrets were often known to lower levels early on. This phenomenon was equally common in the Ming Dynasty. The servants and petty officials surrounding dignitaries were practically born leakers.

Recorded in these notebooks were the fruits of his months in the Capital.

Intelligence work begins with gathering sufficient basic data—and public data is the primary source of intelligence. This was the concept Li Yan had emphasized during his training at the Farm.

For Leng Ningyun, who had made his living in finance, this concept was hardly novel. The financial industry also maintained intelligence collection systems. During his time in the Key Account Department, the team had kept detailed customer files for all major clients—down to birthdays, hobbies, even the food preferences of wives, children, and mistresses.

Leng Ningyun knew these cabinet documents intimately. He quickly located materials on currently influential eunuchs like Wang Dehua, pulled them one by one, stacked them on his desk, and began to read.

His days running a bank in the Capital gave Leng Ningyun the distinct sensation of having returned to his former bank employment—except the most prominent feeling was: This is damned boring.

How was this different from working in the Key Account Department back then? At least the old job had been in a high-class office building, a 24-hour climate-controlled environment. The restroom was spotless, the flush toilet gleamed, and the air carried the scent of jasmine essence.

Since parting with Zhao Yingong in Hangzhou, he had said a complete goodbye to direct contact with Senators. His communication with the Senate was limited to a few letters and radio transmissions. Though conditions in Lingao were tough, years of construction had greatly improved living facilities for Senators—sanitary bath equipment at least was now fully standardized in Bairen City. Here, his most accustomed hygiene method was heating water for a daily bath. Wu Kaidi had warned him more than once: doing so in winter was dangerous. Either he would catch cold and die, or he would succumb to "charcoal poison"—carbon monoxide—from the coal brazier used to keep warm during bathing. After actually catching a cold and developing fever post-bath on one occasion, he had been forced to reduce bathing to once weekly. Fortunately, the Capital did sell paper for wiping—called Dou'er paper, a rough straw variety. It became passable after meticulous processing by the local maid he had purchased: spraying it with water first, then pressing it with a charcoal iron rendered it considerably softer.

Leng Ningyun occasionally regretted his application to come to Beijing. Originally, as just another face in the Senate crowd, he had boldly submitted his request with vague hopes of accomplishment and career distinction. It had actually been approved. He would sometimes recall with shame how, during the battle defending the camp against Huang Shoutong, he had emptied his entire magazine in one panicked burst, dropped his rifle, and fled. Wang Luobin had witnessed the whole thing, and it became a major "stain" on his record. He had always hoped to wash it clean through some heroic action.

When he left Lingao and organized his pack, picking up that Glock pistol had brought a moment of self-mockery: What use is carrying this? If something happens, counting on the Foreign Intelligence Bureau for rescue would be far too late. At most, I could use this modern weapon to end my own life.

After actually arriving in Beijing, the work's difficulties far exceeded his imagination. Though he had received comprehensive training at "The Farm," and though the Historical Data Research Group of the Grand Library had specifically crammed him with information on Capital officials and concepts of political struggle, all of it proved useless when he actually started working in Beijing. High-ranking officials disdained meeting a small merchant like him. Whether you were the Bill Gates or Buffett of the Ming Dynasty, in the eyes of scholar-officials, you were merely a tool for extracting wealth.

More problematic still: having come to Beijing through Eunuch Yang's connections, his business carried Eunuch Yang's backing. Many scholar-officials were highly dismissive of this. It created resistance to his work. Privately, Leng Ningyun had heard Senators joke that he only did two things in Beijing: kowtowing and giving money.

The trouble was, for certain people, even wanting to give them money, there was nowhere to give it. Bribery, Leng Ningyun reflected, is a profound branch of study.

According to his original plan, his work in Beijing had two main components: first, contacting high-level officials—expanding the intelligence network and cultivating connections; second, establishing Delong Bank outlets and expanding financial influence toward profitability.

On the first task, Leng Ningyun felt he had somewhat failed the Foreign Intelligence Bureau's trust. Though Jiang Shan—River Mountain—had not harbored high expectations for his mobility, he had made no progress worth mentioning in approaching high-level officials. Clearly, using Eunuch Yang's route alone was insufficient. They urgently needed new high-level figures with enough influence to broaden the social network.

The second aspect showed more promise. Delong Bank had opened smoothly. The current Delong Bank Beijing Branch—"branch" in name—was actually also the Senate's communication station and intelligence point in Beijing. The bank had been established according to Delong's standard branch system. Leng Ningyun considered himself conscientious in his professional field. Relying on Delong's existing influence in Guangdong and the Jiangnan region, the remittance business had developed substantially since opening. Delong drafts could previously be cashed only at Li Luoyou's Liaohai Firm in the Capital—at a relatively high discount rate and with monthly quota limits, causing considerable inconvenience. Since Delong's opening, remittances from Liangguang—Guangdong and Guangxi—had been essentially monopolized by Delong, and remittance business from Jiangsu and Zhejiang was flourishing.

This expansion had driven substantial deposit growth. In Leng Ningyun's ledger, recent daily turnover exceeded one hundred thousand taels. Fixed-term deposit business with established interest was also being conducted in small amounts. But the loan business—crucial to any bank—had yet to unfold significantly.

From a certain perspective, lending was a highly profitable financial activity in seventeenth-century Beijing. First, there was no limited liability in this era—only unlimited liability. Second, interest rates here were outrageously high, calculated monthly; annual interest below thirty percent was considered charity.

Moreover, demand for loans was substantial. Whether traveling merchants conducting major business here, or failed scholars and dismissed officials scrambling for some half-official position, all had great need for loans.

In recent months, he had issued only one large loan: five hundred taels of silver. The project involved lending to a Mongol goods merchant traveling to Mongolia to purchase brick tea and sundries.

The business had been introduced by the Qipwei Escort Agency Capital Head Office. Merchants took brick tea to Mongolia, exchanged it for furs, horses, and cattle, then brought them back inside the pass. Profits from Mongolia trade could reach several hundred percent per trip. Leng Ningyun judged this risk worth taking. Even so, he remained anxious about this large loan of his—he knew very little about risk control in Ming Dynasty conditions. But he sensed this step had to be taken sooner or later. Everything had to begin somewhere.

(End of Chapter)