Chapter 1842 - Currency Credit
Except for retail at the storefront and smaller wholesale purchases where cash remained acceptable, payment settlement between Zhang's Food Company and its major upstream and downstream partners had already shifted to a "bill-based" mode.
Consequently, what Zhang Yu's father—the legal representative of Zhang's Food Company—now saw of "money" was paper. A major task each day was stamping and signing, watching bills arrive one by one and depart one by one. For a man who had handled silver and copper coins for decades, this bred a severe sense of unease.
In private, he couldn't help muttering to his precious son: Was there any certainty in this Australian way of business?
The issuance of new currency was a vital measure in the Senate's administration of Guangzhou. The public opinion network under Senator Qin's purview naturally required corresponding deployments—and since Zhang Yu himself came from a merchant family, he had particular insight to offer.
This was more complex than merely spreading gossip in teahouses. It required not only "propagating" but also "persuading." Zhang Yu reckoned that simply repeating phrases from the weekly public opinion training wouldn't suffice; he needed more compelling rhetoric.
"Boss He, whether the Great Song's Treasure Note is reliable or not, I wouldn't presume to say," Zhang Yu began eloquently. "But tell me—do you consider the Australians reliable in their dealings?"
"That much is beyond dispute." Boss He nodded. "Though I run a small operation and haven't done business with the Australians directly, I've heard plenty of people say they're utterly trustworthy. They neither bully people with power nor delay payments or pass off shoddy goods."
"There you have it." Zhang Yu knew this tea house boss actually held a favorable impression of the Australians. Because this establishment sat close to Chengxuan Street—frequented by yamen runners, public servants, wealthy households' retainers, and the various parasites clinging to such people—he'd always been subject to their extortion, having no powerful backer to shield him. Occasionally, when service fell short of expectations, they smashed bowls and tables. He could only swallow his anger and greet them with a smile.
After the Australians arrived, the market atmosphere had immediately cleared. Police patrolled the streets, restoring public order. Not only did the riffraff no longer dare cause trouble, but even the Australians' own public servants and runners paid according to posted prices when drinking tea in his shop. There was absolutely no phenomenon of eating, wiping one's mouth, shouting "put it on the tab," and departing. For this, Boss He had held up his thumb for quite some time.
With such a foundation, persuading him wasn't too difficult. Starting from the Australians' virtuous governance would do.
"Think about it: if the Australians are people who value trust and righteousness, how could they engage in fraud over something as fundamental as currency and ruin their own reputation?" Zhang Yu said. "If the Australians wanted wealth, this Guangzhou is their domain. In just three days after entering the city, how much gold, silver, and treasure could they not have seized? Why would they resort to such means to accumulate wealth?"
Boss He seemed somewhat persuaded, yet this concerned money and livelihood. Silver and copper coins—handled for so many years—now becoming mere slips of paper wasn't something that could be explained away with a few sentences.
"Furthermore," Zhang Yu continued, "the circulation certificate has been in use in Qiongzhou Prefecture for a long time. It was occasionally seen in Guangzhou in the past. Although not widely used locally, it has circulated without issue in Qiongzhou for many years, and I've never heard of it becoming waste paper. Plenty of people in this city have traveled to Lingao for business—you must have heard their accounts."
Boss He had indeed heard many tea guests discuss the "Australian Circulation Certificate," though at the time he'd listened as one might to a curious anecdote. He'd never imagined the Australians would actually bring it to Guangzhou. But now that he thought about it, no one had ever reported problems with the certificate. Those who'd gone to trade in the old days might have had to exchange silver for certificates upon arrival, but none had heard of any difficulty exchanging back to silver upon leaving. He was somewhat moved, and nodded unconsciously.
"Besides, for small businessmen like us, how much silver do we actually handle? Working all day long, apart from a few scraps of broken silver, what we receive is mostly copper coins of every description. Tell me—how much more valuable are those copper coins than the Australians' subsidiary coin certificates?"
This point was crucial. Though the Great Ming had no saying for "bad money drives out good," the law was already at work in the market. The copper coins everyone spent were almost invariably debased ones—thin, light, liable to snap in half if dropped. Good money of proper weight was seldom seen.
To claim such copper coins held real value was to say they possessed the credit formed by everyone growing accustomed to using standard coins over many years—everyone recognized them as a form of "money."
Neither Zhang Yu nor Boss He understood the formal definition of currency, but these simple principles were not beyond their grasp.
"And here's another thing, Boss He. When you found yourself short on change in the past, didn't you also make tea chips to give customers change and settle accounts with noodle vendors and vegetable sellers? Tell me—what are those bamboo chips actually worth? Don't they depend entirely on the credit you've built up running this shop here for years?"
Boss He slapped his thigh. "Ayu, I understand now! In the end, whether it's this Australian Treasure Note or standard coins, being able to use them depends on credit!"
"Exactly." Zhang Yu nodded. "A man cannot stand without trust. In today's world, who has earned more credit than anyone else?"
Boss He couldn't help sighing with feeling. "Ayu, what you say makes sense. You're truly educated—you see things clearly."
"You flatter me," Zhang Yu said modestly. "It's just a small insight of mine. Besides, subsidiary coin certificates can also be exchanged for silver dollars. If you're truly uneasy, just gather a thousand wen worth of notes and exchange them for a silver dollar immediately. You should feel secure holding silver dollars, shouldn't you?"
"Of course, of course!" Boss He nodded repeatedly. "Why didn't I think of that? It's clearly written on the exchange notice. I was being foolish! Now my mind is at ease."
Seeing that it was getting late, Zhang Yu took his leave and stepped outside. There he found Zeng Juan already holding forth on the Social Life Section's serialized report: "The Chronicle of Mingnu's Disappearance."
Although the Mao Family Inn case had been solved through tracing Mingnu's whereabouts, the Mingnu case itself contained little in the way of criminal investigation. Its social significance, however, was immense. Minister Ding considered it an excellent subject for publicizing the superiority of the Senate system and exposing the dark atrocities of human trafficking under Ming rule. He planned to turn the Mingnu Disappearance Case into a seventeenth-century equivalent of the "Madeleine Disappearance Case." The Propaganda Department had launched a large-scale special campaign around it, emphasizing that common people under Senatorial rule "enjoyed peace" and "possessed human rights."
Thus the coverage of this case—plotted out by several scribes in the Cultural and Propaganda Department—had grown into a lengthy serialized report.
Wen Desi, who rarely appeared publicly in Guangzhou, had even written and published an article titled "Every Child is a Child of the Senate" in the Yangcheng Express, adding fuel to the propaganda effort.
Amplified by the extended newspaper coverage, the Mingnu Disappearance Case had unexpectedly become a hot topic on Guangzhou's streets. If not for the Mao Family Inn case being so thrilling, it would surely have claimed the top spot in teahouse conversations.
Watching Zeng Juan read the newspaper aloud with theatrical head-wagging—now narrating how Gao Chongjiu and Li Ziyu had gone to the teahouse to investigate "earnestly and kindly" while Mingnu's parents refused to reveal her whereabouts—Zhang Yu couldn't help smiling. Ayu is flourishing this time, even appearing in the newspaper! The thought filled him with genuine happiness for his young friend.
At that same moment, in the lounge of the General Manager's office suite at Purple Lightning Tower in Guangzhou, Pei Lixiu reclined half-sitting on a genuine leather sofa. She wore a hollowed-out silk nightgown, one breast exposed, her manner languorous.
She had not yet recovered from the wine at the noon banquet. Pei Lixiu had just returned from Lingao. Shortly after Guangzhou was recovered, she had been recalled—a move that prompted suspicious rumors among naturalized employees at the Guangzhou Station that "Chief Pei was recalled to be punished" or had "already been thrown into prison." In truth, she had gone back to discuss with Li Mei, who oversaw commercial affairs, the specific plan for reorganizing Purple Lightning Tower into Purple Lightning Tower Entertainment Co., Ltd.
Purple Lightning Tower had operated in Guangzhou for many years, carving out a new path among traditional brothels with its "Australian style of enjoyment" and becoming the most profitable enterprise of the Guangzhou Station. The enormous prospects of this "smokeless industry" had naturally not escaped the attention of the Commerce Department. Considering that merely running a "leisure clubhouse" addressed too narrow a customer base, Minister of Commerce Li Mei had proposed—after several considerations—using Purple Lightning Tower as the flagship enterprise for a comprehensive entertainment company, while also expanding into chain operations.
During her months in Lingao, Pei Lixiu had been tireless, running from department to department—discussing cooperation, requesting policies, conferring with designers, inspecting samples at factories—all with the aim of taking Purple Lightning Tower to a higher level.
Expanding the business scope and opening chain locations would require substantial investment. Relying on government appropriation was naturally hopeless. Fortunately, Guangzhou was undergoing a sweeping rectification of the sex industry. The former official brothels counted as enemy property and would naturally be confiscated. In the process of rectification, "fighting tigers" to set examples and establish authority was inevitable. Once these "big tigers" were dealt with, the properties they left behind could be conveniently taken over—to say nothing of the ready-made human resources...
It was under such circumstances that Pei Lixiu had hurried back to Guangzhou from Lingao to officially commence her work.
She had now been formally appointed General Manager of Purple Lightning Tower and Representative of the Senate. Pei Lixiu had no complaints about her appointment. Ming Lang and Li Mei had originally anticipated she might feel somewhat diminished, becoming merely a state-owned enterprise general manager now that Guangzhou had been recovered—after all, even Zheng Shangjie had become Director of the Guangzhou Commerce Bureau.
But Pei Lixiu didn't see it that way. Being able to return to Purple Lightning Tower and preside over its operations satisfied her completely. Her political ambitions were limited, and she knew where her abilities lay. Besides, compared to Lingao, she was far more familiar with Guangzhou. Purple Lightning Tower was not only where her career had begun—condensing years of her painstaking effort—but also the nexus of her main external social relationships. The heritage of Guangzhou, the foremost city of the southern sky, was fundamentally different from the nouveau riche atmosphere of Lingao. Some of Lingao's newly wealthy locals often made Pei Lixiu roll her eyes. The scions of old aristocratic families in Guangzhou were far more to her liking.
(End of Chapter)