Chapter 1375 - Changed Historical Facts
Cao Guangjiu took the calling card—and immediately trembled with shock. "Quick!" he stammered. "Open the center gate! Tell them I'll personally come out to receive him!"
"The master who came said there's no need for such formalities. This humble servant has already received him into the flower hall..."
"Good, good." Cao Guangjiu waved urgently. "Go ahead first. Tell him I dare not accept the card—I'm coming out to see him right away." Then he stomped his foot and scolded the maidservant. "Are you all dead? Get my clothes!"
An hour later, he saw off this visiting secretary. The name on the calling card was too illustrious—the principal himself would never visit in person. But even a secretary bearing the card was enough to bestow tremendous face. Cao Guangjiu shut himself in his study for a long while afterward, trying to fathom the other party's intentions.
He understood perfectly well that the other party was using him as a pawn because they found it inconvenient to act themselves. As long as sufficient benefits accrued to him, being used didn't matter. The problem was that he didn't know what the other party actually wanted to accomplish. This required careful consideration—which was precisely why he hadn't dared agree outright.
From the other party's words, he'd already gathered that the owner of the calling card wished to deal with the newly emerged Master Zhao. This principal certainly had a formidable enough background, but the Catholic gentry backing Master Zhao were also not to be trifled with. A Broken Boots Party member like himself caught between them might end up bloodied.
Yet the benefits dangled before him were truly tantalizing. This Broken Boots Party member found it impossible not to swallow the fragrant bait.
Thinking of this, he couldn't help fingering the pouch the other party had left behind. It was heavy. Cao Guangjiu gritted his teeth. A man dies for wealth as a bird dies for food. Master Zhao was merely an outsider—no matter what reputation he'd acquired, he still couldn't compare to the owner of the calling card, who had deep local roots. Leaning against a great tree meant good shade. This opportunity must not be missed.
Meanwhile, Zhao Yingong was at the mountain villa arranging "leaf sales" operations.
The smooth implementation of the spring silkworm plan and the official opening of the filature had instilled in him full confidence. Especially during the recent cocoon and silk action, the local gentry and silk guild shopkeepers who had profited greatly had all expressed their "admiration" for him on various occasions. He had clearly become a "capable person" skilled at navigating complex situations. Naturally, there were also quite a few who had grown envious, jealous, and resentful because of this.
This year's leaf sales operation wasn't large-scale. He only needed to satisfy the silkworm-raising needs of the three "core villages" and more than ten "peripheral villages" he planned to cooperate with, plus the silkworm farm Cihui Hall had established on its own. The sericulture households in these villages also possessed some mulberry orchard land of their own, enabling partial self-sufficiency. Even if they expanded silkworm-raising scale next year, the increase would be limited.
Therefore, from the beginning, he had devoted few resources to controlling the mulberry leaf supply. He had no intention of directly controlling the mulberry orchards themselves—taxes in that area were heavy. Buying leaves on credit offered low costs and convenient implementation. Moreover, if he was going to raise summer and autumn silkworms, the price of credit leaves would be pitifully low. Originally, mulberry leaves were only valuable during the spring season. For the rest of the year, apart from pruning branches that could be woven into baskets, used as firewood, or yielding mulberries, they provided no benefit. So when his agents approached various mulberry orchards to request credit leaves for summer and autumn, the orchard owners all thought they were mad.
The terms Zhao Yingong offered were generous: a contracted price of one tael of silver per mu. From now until the leaves fell in autumn, all mulberry leaves produced in the orchard would belong to Zhao Yingong. His people could come to pick mulberry leaves at any time. Picking wouldn't require the orchard owner to lift a finger—Zhao household servants would handle everything. For the current Zhao Yingong, labor was the least valuable input. He had enormous quantities of free labor available, ready to be used or wasted.
For the mulberry orchard owners, though the income of just one tael per mu was quite small, it was still extra income—not without benefit to them. As a result, the work of purchasing summer and autumn "leaves on credit" proceeded very smoothly. Zhao Yingong secured enough mulberry leaves for both seasons without spending much silver.
Originally, he'd wanted to buy up next spring's leaf quota in one stroke—not merely meeting his own needs but cornering supplies to make a killing at the right moment. However, he discovered that the capital required was substantial. He had too many projects running simultaneously right now: the bookshop, printing and publishing, sericulture, raw silk, maritime trade... and this enormous refugee camp. Each demanded large amounts of capital to operate. Cash flow depended primarily on funds from the Merchants Bureau. The trick of eight pots and seven lids wasn't unique to the old time and space. His juggling act might not escape others' notice.
For now, he would have to be satisfied with small-scale operations. Though he had many ideas, Zhao Yingong could only bide his time. Bigger steps would have to wait for next year. Currently he lacked sufficient strength, and the Council of Elders' influence remained insufficient. In this society where those on top took all, one had to be very careful. There were still many things he needed to accomplish.
"Jiying!"
He called out, and Jiying immediately appeared at the study door, quietly awaiting orders.
"Prepare a boat for me. I'm going to Shanghai."
For convenience of traveling around Jiangnan, he had long ago purchased a Wuxi fast boat. At a single command, the boatmen took turns rowing day and night. In just a few days, they could reach major political and commercial centers of Jiangnan like Shanghai, Suzhou, and Nanjing. Shanghai in particular was the most important commercial channel for the Council of Elders throughout the entire Jiangnan region. All branches of the Mountain-Sea Five Routes had established institutions there. The Japan trade activities Zhao Yingong was about to launch also used Shanghai as their operations center.
Goods destined for Japan were currently being transported to Shanghai for assembly. Besides raw silk, silk cloth, white sugar, Chinese medicinal materials, porcelain, and other traditional exports that Hangzhou Station had purchased from suppliers in Jiangnan, Fujian, Guangdong, and Jiangxi, there were also large quantities of daily necessities and hardware manufactured in Lingao.
Though seventeenth-century Japan had achieved considerable agricultural and commercial development, its handicraft industry remained remarkably backward. Traditional Japanese craftsmanship was highly refined, but severely lopsided. For niche consumer goods, the level of craftsmanship far exceeded general standards. But for mass consumer goods, both quality and production capacity were woefully inadequate. Historically, Japan had relied on massive imports of Chinese-made daily necessities to meet demand. The scarcity of hardware in particular exceeded most people's imagination. Even the most commonly used items like iron nails were often unavailable. The claim that constructing Great Buddha statues and temples required nails—hence necessitating "sword hunts"—was not a ridiculous excuse from the perspective of people at the time.
In the Council of Elders' industrial system, the products that could currently be mass-exported and dumped, besides paper, were hardware. Beyond mass exports to the Guangdong market, there were also exports to Jiangnan. The Japan trade would naturally not be overlooked.
However, his rush to Shanghai wasn't about Japan export matters. Shen Tingyang had requested his presence to discuss something—the letter hadn't specified what, saying only "the matter is urgent."
What exactly was so pressing that he had to be summoned immediately? And why had the location been chosen as Shanghai? Shanghai was the future headquarters of the Merchants Bureau, the starting point for Japan trade and grain sea transport. Meeting here obviously involved these two matters.
Zhao Yingong pondered the question throughout the journey. He arrived in Shanghai and had barely settled into the residence before instructing someone to deliver a letter to the Shen family residence, arranging to meet with Shen Tingyang.
That evening, the two met at Zhao Yingong's Shanghai residence.
Zhao Yingong had been deeply worried that Shen Tingyang intended to cause trouble over the ship-as-shares arrangement. To his surprise, the man was actually beaming. The moment they met, he cupped his hands in congratulations.
"Finally, there are sensible people in the court!" Shen Tingyang was visibly excited.
"What?!" Zhao Yingong had already suspected this had nothing to do with Japan exports. His heart relaxed considerably. He knew what the other party cared about most was abolishing canal transport in favor of sea transport. Could it be that the Ming court had actually changed its ways? Had it advanced the experiment of sea transport for grain contrary to history? He ventured a probe: "Could it be that the court has already agreed to abolish canal transport for sea transport?"
"Hahaha! Younger brother jests!" Shen Tingyang laughed. "If the court acted with such decisiveness, how would things have come to today's state!"
Zhao Yingong laughed awkwardly and decided he should keep his mouth shut on this topic. After all, Shen Tingyang was a Jiangnan tycoon who could say anything freely. As an outsider, Zhao Yingong would be wise to behave more cautiously.
Shen Tingyang also seemed to realize his criticism of court affairs was somewhat improper and immediately returned to the original topic.
"Abolishing canal transport for sea transport is such a momentous matter—how could it be achieved overnight? However, there is one thing right now. If done well, it will serve as the precedent for future abolition of canal transport."
He told Zhao Yingong that after the Dengzhou Rebellion was suppressed, the entire system for transporting grain and military pay from Dengzhou to Liaodong had been utterly destroyed. The grain, silver, and military equipment originally stockpiled in Dengzhou were lost completely. Requests for grain and pay from Guan-Ning and Dongjiang came flying in like snowflakes.
"You probably know the habits of these military gentlemen," Shen Tingyang said. He appeared to be in excellent spirits and consequently very talkative. "Since the late Wanli era, the realm has been in turmoil with military operations everywhere. These commanders have all grown arrogant. Without grain and pay, they won't budge from their positions, let alone exert themselves in battle. These past years, the court has thrown millions in cash and grain annually, barely maintaining the status quo."
After the Dengzhou Rebellion, the supply line to Dongjiang and Guan-Ning was suddenly severed. Land transport took too long and consumed even more manpower and materials. The Ministry of War and the Cabinet alike were desperate to find a new supply route.
"So this time, the court has issued an edict to transport tribute grain directly from Jiangnan to Liaodong by sea!" Shen Tingyang appeared overjoyed.
"Is this matter to be handled by Brother Wumei?"
"Exactly!" When Shen Tingyang spoke of it, he practically wanted to dance with joy. His excitement was beyond words. "I've already had someone submit a memorial and also presented my 'Book on Sea Transport' and 'Map of Sea Transport.'"
Zhao Yingong vaguely recalled that this should have happened after Shen Tingyang became a Secretary in the Grand Secretariat. The current Shen Tingyang was still only a student at the Imperial Academy. It would be several more years before he became a Secretary. Obviously, something had changed.
(End of this chapter)