Chapter 1275: Ownership and Shares
"Of course we won't hire people for everything—with such petty businesses, that would bankrupt us." Wu Nanhai explained. "I mean we act as wholesaler, letting individual households source from us. Take current breakfast vendors: we could establish a food and beverage service enterprise ourselves, prepare breakfast items and wholesale them to peddlers. The same applies to candied haws, popsicles, grass jelly, shaved ice, tofu pudding, cotton candy... We could also open larger chain restaurants ourselves—breakfast in the morning, boxed meals at noon and evening, cold drinks the rest of the time. I'm thinking we should call it the Red Flower Society."
"Damn—then we'd have to set up an Iron Blood Youth League too!" A cold light flashed in Ye Yuming's eyes as he spoke. "Old Wu, speaking of tofu pudding—do you prefer yours sweet or savory?"
"Well, I favor traditional flavors." Wu Nanhai parried the question and changed subjects. "What do you think of my idea?"
"Good, but the Governor and Planning Commission aren't particularly enthusiastic about individual small business development right now. Though they haven't said so explicitly, I sense they'd prefer manpower not to flow into non-productive sectors..."
"We're not running this industry to make money—the main purpose is providing more livelihoods for everyone, increasing social stability, letting more people support themselves. We can't funnel everyone into factories or send them all to the fields. Common people have demands for tertiary industry, and it's a crucial supplement to large-scale production. There will always be intermittent labor surpluses that industry and agriculture cannot absorb, so we might as well plan for a rainy day."
Ye Yuming nodded: "Can the Senate approve this?"
"No Senate approval is required." Wu Nanhai replied. "Tiandihui isn't a government agency—just an industry association under agricultural sector guidance. At most, it's a public institution managed by reference to the Civil Servant Law. We just need to report to the Administration Council and have the Governor sign off."
"The question is: will the Governor be willing to sign?"
"Have you read the latest issue of Weekly Updates?" Wu Nanhai asked.
"Haven't had time yet." Ye Yuming was a busy man.
"There's an article on statistics and placement of personnel disabled in the line of duty within the civil affairs system. Unsigned, but I estimate it was written by Prefect Liu. Quite a few indigenous people have partially lost their labor capacity after recovering from work injuries and war wounds."
In Lingao, no one had completely lost their labor capacity—under current medical conditions, such severely wounded could not be saved at all.
Currently, these partially disabled individuals were mainly placed in relatively simple auxiliary positions, but this was no permanent solution. Wu Nanhai therefore believed the Red Flower Society model could absorb some disabled workers and enable them to support themselves.
"...We can offer preferential terms to this group regarding experience—Tiandihui can charge only cost. Add tax incentives, and it should be enough to keep them and their families adequately fed and clothed." A look of "concern for the nation and its people" flickered across Wu Nanhai's face.
Ye Yuming nodded. Framed this way, passage through the Administration Council would be easier.
With the major matter settled, both men relaxed somewhat. Wu Nanhai signaled for the attendant to bring fresh Oolong tea. While pouring for Ye Yuming, he said:
"Once this is settled, I intend to request at the plenary meeting that the Senate formally confirm current shareholding rights, ownership, and dividend distribution methods..." Wu Nanhai continued, "We're currently in a state of typical ownership chaos..."
"I don't follow." Ye Yuming was momentarily confused.
"What kind of institution would you say our Senate is?"
"A parliament, of course."
"The Senate is essentially the board of directors of the East India Company!" Wu Nanhai declared. "We're actually running a country now—just like the relationship between the British East India Company and India back then!"
Ye Yuming found this metaphor uncomfortable, but regarding the actual distribution of power, he had to admit it was apt.
"Even so, isn't it said that all property under the Transmigration Group belongs to all Senators? But now our enterprise is growing larger and larger. We need diversified funding sources. Second, it's not just Senators building this new society—we must fully consider others' interests as well. Finally, a company running a country is inappropriate no matter how you look at it. So I believe we must start clarifying responsibilities, rights, and interests now. The current state—where the Senate and the state are indistinguishable—must change. Asset valuation of state-owned enterprises is necessary to confirm ownership. Separate state ownership from Senate ownership so we can maintain clear accounts going forward. Otherwise, it will become an ungovernable mess over time."
He paused to catch his breath, seemingly not finished: "Because responsibilities, rights, and interests remain unclear, a series of questions still have no concrete answers—such as whether land can be privately owned. If these questions aren't clarified, how can our institutional and legal construction continue?"
Ye Yuming expressed concern: "If you submit this proposal, won't it be seen as an intention to carve up Senate property? Everyone is already apprehensive about restructuring and shareholding systems."
"Maintaining state-owned enterprises as the mainstay is an unshakeable principle. What worries me is that conflating the Senate with the state will leave troubles for the future." Wu Nanhai grew somewhat agitated. "If I truly harbored such intentions, I could simply play dumb. After all, 'state-owned' currently means 'Senate-owned'—the legal concepts for dividing property are already ready-made. Only by distinguishing and clarifying now can we block people from using this confusion to carve up Senate property in the future!"
Ye Yuming grew thoughtful: "Now that you put it that way, I do sense something's not quite right." He continued, "There's also the issue of Senator share dividends—that remains a vague concept too."
"Exactly!" Wu Nanhai nodded vigorously. "The Senate is the Senate; the country is the country. They can no longer be confused. We currently represent a textbook case of government-enterprise entanglement, with unclear responsibilities and rights."
Ye Yuming agreed Wu Nanhai was entirely correct. Yet considering from a deeper perspective: if these matters weren't addressed now, future generations of Senators would one day earn the reputation of "carving up state property." Future naturalized citizens would not harbor the simple, sincere loyalty to the Senate that current naturalized citizens felt—gratitude born of having been virtually recreated by the Senate. But as productivity improved and living standards and education levels rose across society, they would sooner or later "curse the hand that feeds them." When that day came, the glorious and righteous image of the Senate would inevitably be tarnished.
The glorious and righteous image should not be underestimated: since ancient times, what a government most needed to maintain was its legitimacy. Ancient monarchs all claimed divine right; modern nations all claimed to represent national and popular interests. The new country the Senate was building could be no exception.
How many Senators have realized this? Ye Yuming wondered with complex feelings.
The two discussed this issue at length, jotting down several memorandum points, talking until nearly ten o'clock before parting—already quite late by Lingao standards.
When Wu Nanhai returned home, it was half past ten at night. After Chuqing helped him wash up, Wu Nanhai changed into loose cotton pajamas and sat in the living room. Chuqing wore a long home nightgown. The electric light glowed. Wu Nanhai opened the leather-bound Bible and said: "Come—today we study Exodus, Chapter 20, Verses 1 through 17."
"Struggled for three and a half years, and overnight returned to pre-liberation," Li Yan said with a grin to Jiang Shan, a fresh telegram in hand.
"Those words contradict the expression on your face." Jiang Shan set down the document he was reading and considered the various reports from the Ming Dynasty Division recently. "What—did Wu Mingjin get promoted?"
"Director Jiang truly devises strategies from within the command tent..." Li Yan nodded with a smile. "Exactly!"
According to the telegram from Guangzhou, Wu Mingjin had been promoted to General Judge of Leizhou—his term had expired, and his performance assessment was outstanding.
Based on Wu Mingjin's record, he indeed merited promotion and transfer. The Senate and Intelligence Bureau were reluctant to let this excellent collaborator slip from their control, so they had linked him to the Tang Sanzang Plan.
The Tang Sanzang Plan had been in development for nearly three years, consistently remaining one of the intelligence system's major initiatives—though as time passed, voices within the Executive Committee and Intelligence Bureau increasingly questioned whether continuing was worthwhile. Yet the prospect of directly controlling a local official embedded deep within the bureaucracy remained tantalizing for intelligence personnel.
During the planning stage, candidates for "Tang Sanzang" had changed repeatedly, though attention always focused on down-and-out scholars. They soon discovered, however: getting impoverished scholars to defect was easy; getting them to become spies was difficult. The psychological barrier remained formidable.
Espionage was always a dishonorable, underhanded business—let alone impersonating a court official! For many scholars, the Ming Dynasty's orthodox legitimacy remained unbroken.
Li Yan concluded that rather than having some nervous wretch of a poor scholar tremble his way through impersonating the Prefect of Leizhou, it would be simpler to support an existing official's rise to the position. Jiang Shan approved the approach.
Throughout Qiongzhou, quite a few minor Ming bureaucrats were willing to cling to the Senate's coattails. Wu Mingjin could only be called semi-compliant. However, thanks to Senate assistance, his performance assessment was the best, and with his term expiring and transfer imminent, he was a relatively suitable candidate.
The only drawback was rank: the Prefect of Leizhou was Rank 4 Primary, while Wu Mingjin was merely Rank 7 Primary. Following proper sequence, he would first need to serve as General Judge, then Vice Prefect, and only then could become Prefect. If he remained merely an assistant official like an Auxiliary, he would be essentially irrelevant to the Intelligence Bureau.
"Actually, we have a way to accelerate his rise." Li Yan suggested at the strategy meeting. "Simply sell 'Tang Sanzang' directly."
(End of Chapter)