Chapter 151: The Foshan Trip, Part Seventeen

“Business is not something you can’t handle; it’s a matter of whether you want to do it or not,” Liu San said, in high spirits now that the procurement was settled. “Not to mention anything else, how much medicine do the industries under our Executive Committee need?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “The security battalion alone has over a thousand men, and there are many long-term laborers. All in all, there are tens of thousands of people. Don’t these people need to see a doctor and take medicine?”

“This will all depend on you, my worthy brother.”

“I’m half the owner. How could I not do my best?” Liu San laughed. “Don’t worry, I will handle all matters concerning the Australians.”

Liu San went on, “The second avenue of business will depend on your cousin. Do you know what medicinal herbs Qiongzhou is famous for?”

“Naturally, betel nut and black cardamom,” Yang Shixiang replied, well-versed in the local medicinal resources.

“Exactly. Of these two, let’s not talk about betel nut for now. There are large households in Qiongzhou that specialize in its procurement. We don’t need to compete with them for this business and ruin the harmony,” Liu San said. “But black cardamom is currently untouched. There are wild varieties in Lin’gao and Danzhou, and we can also cultivate some ourselves. After processing, we can sell it. Does your cousin also do wholesale of medicinal herbs?”

“He does,” Yang Shixiang said. “He even goes to the Qizhou medicine market every two or three years, both to buy and sell.”

“That’s it, then. We’ll have him sell our black cardamom. That’s another source of income.”

“And then there are the tonics,” Liu San said. “I noticed that the Yang Run Kai Tang’s patent medicines seem to specialize in tonics, don’t they?”

“Speaking of which, my ancestors built their fortune on various tonics,” Yang Shixiang said. “Unfortunately, by my father’s generation, he couldn’t expand the business in Lin’gao, and it all fell into disuse.”

“Since the formulas are still there, wouldn’t it be easy to revive them? Although there aren’t many people in Lin’gao who take tonics, there are plenty in Guangdong.”

“Then we can’t have the Yang Run Kai Tang act as our distributor—it would be a conflict of interest. He has the same formulas I do.”

“We don’t need him to be our distributor. We can find someone else in Guangzhou, or even open our own branch there—but that’s for later.”

Yang Shixiang hesitated. “Worthy brother! There’s something I’m not sure if I should say.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t you feel that the Ming empire has been showing signs of chaos in recent years…” His voice was so low it was almost a whisper. “Tonics are something for times of peace and prosperity…”

I’ve known that for a long time, Liu San thought. Starting this year, the Ming court has been caught in a cycle of peasant uprisings and Later Jin incursions, with the state of the nation deteriorating day by day, heading towards its doom. But Yang Shixiang was not a transmigrator; from his small corner of Lin’gao, he couldn’t possibly grasp the full picture.

“What makes you say that?”

Yang Shixiang sighed. “I’ve been visiting relatives, colleagues, and my father’s old friends these past few days. When we talk about the situation in various places, everyone shakes their heads. There are constant floods and droughts. I hear there’s a great famine in Shaanxi this spring, and people are resorting to cannibalism! The starving people are rioting, besieging towns and counties. The government troops have suffered a major defeat, and a general named Gao was killed… Some have even declared themselves kings…”

“Shaanxi is far from here—”

“That’s true, but other places aren’t peaceful either,” Yang Shixiang said. “I also heard that there was a mutiny in the capital, and the soldiers actually built a stockade at the city gates, demanding their full pay. What has the world come to? We’ve been in Lin’gao, somewhat oblivious. But on our journey here, although Guangdong is still peaceful, the number of refugees on the road is unprecedented…”

Liu San chuckled to himself. Yang Shixiang was right. But on second thought, wasn’t the sight of their group of “Kun thieves” from the sea brazenly building forts and levying taxes and labor in Lin’gao, with the local government powerless to stop them, also a major sign of “chaos”? It was only because Yang Shixiang was in the midst of it, even seeing Lin’gao as a peaceful place, that he didn’t realize. It seemed the transmigrators’ rule in Lin’gao was beginning to be accepted.

“Don’t worry,” Liu San comforted him. “At least from the situation in Guangdong, things haven’t deteriorated that badly. Besides, even in chaotic times, there is business to be done.”

“How so?” Yang Shixiang asked.

Liu San said, “Don’t worry about the business. As long as the government is still in place, any local unrest can be stabilized. And once things have stabilized, there will be post-calamity work to be done. It is said that after a war, there will be a great plague. The refugees, hungry and cold, unaccustomed to the new environment, will fall ill and need to buy medicine. If things really get out of hand, we can just retreat to Lin’gao.”

“Yes, yes, Lin’gao can always be a safe haven,” Yang Shixiang said, seemingly already viewing the transmigrator-ruled Lin’gao as a paradise.

With their plans settled, Yang Shixiang went to visit his cousin to discuss the details of the distribution agreement. After the banquet hosted by Lin Ming, Yang Shiyi’s attitude towards his cousin had changed dramatically. He greeted him with great warmth and enthusiasm. The distribution deal was quickly finalized: the wholesale and retail prices would be set by the Runshi Tang, and the Yang Run Kai Tang would be responsible for sales, with a “one-price” policy—no haggling, no discounts, no price hikes. The Yang Run Kai Tang would receive a fixed commission on each sale as their “handling fee,” and the Runshi Tang would pay an additional commission to the sales clerks to encourage them to sell more. Sales revenue would be settled three times a year, with no delays or defaults. The Runshi Tang would set up a representative office in Foshan, with dedicated staff to handle sales, procurement, and promotions. The expenses would be borne by the Runshi Tang. They also agreed on three rules: their staff were not to meet privately, not to treat each other to meals or entertainment, and not to borrow money from each other. Traditional businesses were extremely vigilant against the corruption of their employees.

Because of Lin Ming’s influence, the commission demanded by Yang Shiyi was very reasonable, not the exorbitant amount Yang Shixiang had expected. Although Yang Shiyi felt a little resentful, the large cash order for medicinal herbs from his cousin helped to make up for it, and their talks were very amicable. They even agreed on the future consignment of black cardamom from the Runshi Tang. Yang Shiyi was secretly amazed—he had never expected his unremarkable fifth cousin to become so capable! It seemed this “Liu San,” the renowned doctor from Lin’gao, was no ordinary man.

Liu San had someone guide him on a whirlwind tour of Foshan’s pharmacies. At each one, he bought a few doses of any pastes, powders, pills, or elixirs he came across, whether he had heard of them or not, intending to take them back for human trials. He also used the pretext of expanding production to recruit many unemployed pharmacy clerks, introduced by Yang Shiyi, who were willing to go to Lin’gao. He also purchased a large quantity of traditional Chinese medicine equipment: slicing knives, various pots and cauldrons for processing herbs, and so on.

Huang Tianyu’s recruitment efforts also made progress. He took Gao Di and Chen Tong to several teahouses where kiln workers gathered to wait for work and recruited a few men. Through them, he then sought out other unemployed kiln workers. Due to the recent high unemployment rate at the kilns, the recruitment was very successful, and he soon had fifty to sixty kiln workers of various specializations willing to go to Lin’gao. Huang Tianyu accepted everyone, even the older workers that the kilns no longer wanted. These men were experienced, and most were only in their early fifties. Their health had been damaged by long-term malnutrition and overwork, but with a little nutritional improvement in Lin’gao, they would be valuable skilled workers.

Recruiting foundry workers was not as easy. There was a lot of work available, and skilled workers were reluctant to go to the unfamiliar place of Lin’gao. Although Huang Ande worked hard, he mostly brought in general laborers, and even they were not very willing to go. After several days of effort, he had only recruited about a dozen men. Huang Tianyu was disappointed. It was raining that day, so he decided to drink tea in a teahouse. Huang Ande, ignoring the rain, went out again to look for people.

The teahouse was extremely simple. It was just a small room with a large bamboo shelter and a dirt floor. The tea sold was coarse tea and even lower-grade tea dust. The advantage was that it was extremely cheap, and even a common laborer could afford to sit there for half a day with a pot of tea. With its low prices and abundant news, the teahouse had become a gathering place for unemployed workers waiting for jobs.

Huang Tianyu was bored with his tea and decided to try some betel nut, like the others. They were small packets wrapped in leaves, with a black substance inside. He popped one in his mouth and chewed. A strong rush went straight to his head, making him feel dizzy, almost drunk. It took a while for him to steady himself.

“What’s so good about this stuff?” Huang Tianyu muttered.

“It aids digestion and removes dampness,” Gao Di said from the side, his mouth red from chewing betel nut.

Just as Huang Tianyu was about to say something, Huang Ande came in. He took off his dripping rain cape. “Master—” he bowed respectfully.

“Speak at the table.”

“Yes, sir.” Huang Ande leaned his umbrella against the table and sat down. “I just went to a teahouse. I didn’t find any suitable foundry masters, but I did find something else. I’m just not sure if you need them, Master.”

“What kind of craftsman?”

“A wheelwright…”

“What?!” Huang Tianyu exclaimed, drawing the attention of the others. He quickly lowered his voice. “A wheelwright?”

“Yes,” Huang Ande said, not understanding his excitement. “That’s right.”

Of course, Huang Tianyu was excited. The problem of wheels had been a persistent headache for the Industrial and Energy Committee. The vehicles they currently made themselves, apart from railcars, were ordinary handcarts and carriages, and the problem of wheel manufacturing had not been properly solved. Wheel making was a specialized skill. Although the many capable men in the committee had managed to make them, the efficiency was abysmal and it tied up technical personnel. So, they had to use the various rubber wheels they had brought with them to make vehicles.

As the stock of spare wheels dwindled and the demand for vehicles grew, and with no hope of producing rubber within the next ten years, the task of finding wheelwrights and manufacturing qualified wooden wheels was put on the agenda.

Unfortunately, in the south, where boats and shoulder poles were the primary means of transport, vehicles were rarely used, and wheelwrights were almost unheard of. None of the dispatched personnel had ever found one.

[Note: The defeat of the government army mentioned by Yang Shixiang refers to the incident in the fourth intercalary month of that year, when over seven thousand peasant rebels from Shaanxi attacked Sanshui, and the mobile corps commander Gao Conglong was defeated and killed, with over two thousand government soldiers wounded.

The mutiny over pay was the Jizhou Mutiny, which occurred in the second month of that year. The soldiers of the Zunhua garrisons rioted due to arrears in pay and built a stockade outside the west gate of Zunhua to demand their full pay, not outside the capital gates.]