Chapter 235: The Return Voyage
To expand his influence, Ping Qiusheng also hosted a banquet for all the local merchants, both Chinese and Japanese. His goal was to promote Australian goods—procurement required having enough goods for trade.
In addition to the Council of Elders’ traditional export products, Ping Qiusheng also brought new export goods this time: the Plague-Averting Powder and Zhuge’s Marching Powder from the Runshitang Pharmaceutical Company.
After the new pharmaceutical factory of Runshitang Pharmaceutical Company went into production, the output of all Chinese patent medicines increased several dozen times. As their main products for sale and self-use in South China, the Plague-Averting Powder and Zhuge’s Marching Powder for the first time had a surplus beyond the monthly sales volume, and the inventory was constantly increasing, urgently needing to be sold off. Si Kaide judged that besides the summer demand in South China and Jiangnan, the subtropical and tropical regions of North and South Vietnam, Siam, Cambodia, and Burma, which were hot and humid all year round, would also be interested in heat-relief medicines. The European colonists in Southeast Asia could also use them. The market prospects were very broad.
Ping Qiusheng brought dozens of boxes of these two medicines this time and distributed samples to the guests at the banquet. In fact, these two medicines were already sold in small quantities in Thonburi and had a good reputation for their significant efficacy. However, the price was very expensive—they were transported by merchants from Guangzhou.
Now that this product could be sold directly, the retail price had also dropped by more than two-thirds, immediately causing a sensation in the local business community. The owners of several large local Chinese shops took the initiative to propose becoming agents for Runshitang Pharmaceutical Company.
However, Ping Qiusheng was unwilling to give away the agency rights. In addition to selling the goods he brought for cash, he required all shops interested in selling Runshitang’s medicines to sign a purchase order contract. Runshitang would supply the goods to the local merchants according to the numbers on the contract.
Based on the order quantity and sales situation of each shop, he would then consider which one to grant the agency rights for Runshitang Pharmaceutical Company. This idea was taught to him by Si Kaide.
Si Kaide also planned to implement a system of collecting advance deposits from agents after a certain level of trust had been established in their cooperation.
This was very rare in the commercial trade of that time. In the commercial trade of that time, not to mention paying in advance, even cash on delivery was extremely rare. The most common practice was payment after delivery, with long payment periods, which severely squeezed capital and had a high rate of bad debts. Si Kaide believed that the saying that business ethics in the 17th century were better than in the 21st century was pure nonsense. Whether it was counterfeit and shoddy goods, or arrears of payment, or absconding with debts, everything that existed in the 21st century also existed in the 17th century.
Shijiazhuang Hideji scratched his messy hair, which was tied up haphazardly with a straw rope. As he scratched, bits of straw and dandruff flew from his head like snowflakes.
After scratching enough, he felt a little more comfortable. He stood up, yawned widely, kissed the cross hanging around his neck, and made the sign of the cross.
Shijiazhuang’s height, like most Japanese men of this era, was at most a little over 1.5 meters. He was short and stocky, with a typical Choshu face, so he had much less facial hair than a Satsuma face. He looked quite handsome, but his sallow and thin face showed signs of malnutrition.
He wore a samurai vest—the name was grand, but in reality, it was just a few pieces of cloth and silk tied to his body with straw ropes. He had no hakama, and his only “clothing” was a new loincloth, the last remnant of a few bolts of Nanjing cloth he had obtained as spoils of war last year when he followed Lord Yamada Nagamasa to fight in Ligor for the King of Siam.
Despite being scantily clad, he had tattered pieces of armor hanging on his chest and back, though they were just large enough to cover his front and back chest. Many of the hemp cords connecting the armor plates were broken and had been re-tied with thin hemp ropes. The workmanship was poor, and the armor plates were crooked.
On his feet were a pair of straw sandals. He held a katana with a scabbard made of elm wood tightly in his left hand, and a wakizashi was stuck in his belt. In this state, he looked exactly like a down-and-out masterless samurai, a ronin.
Shijiazhuang Hideji was indeed a ronin. He was originally a low-ranking samurai from the Tosa domain. Because he was a Christian, he was forced to flee the country and had been wandering in Southeast Asia for seven or eight years.
For the past seven or eight years, he had been living as a mercenary, sometimes charging at the forefront, sometimes dozing off for years on end while guarding a trading post or a castle.
A few years ago, he joined the Japanese volunteer corps. Life was quite carefree. But since Lord Yamada’s mysterious death in Ligor last year, this life had come to an abrupt end.
Although as a low-ranking samurai in the volunteer corps he knew little about the matters of his superiors, the widespread rumors and the subsequent sudden looting of the Japanese commercial district by the Siamese all made him feel that Lord Yamada’s death was very strange.
Strange or not, it had little to do with him. His relationship with Lord Yamada was purely one of employment, with no “personal feelings,” so he had no intention of risking his life to seek revenge or get to the bottom of the matter. It was just that the subsequent development of the situation made him, a Japanese, feel a great sense of crisis.
There were rumors everywhere that the God-King wanted to completely expel and eliminate the Japanese. Many of those who had joined the volunteer corps had already fled. Many Japanese merchants and craftsmen had also chosen to leave, with many going to Cambodia, and others to Vietnam or other places. Shijiazhuang also wanted to escape, but he was penniless. He didn’t need the God-King to kill him; he would starve to death on the road. Here in Thonburi, at least it was easy to get a meal. Rice was cheap here.
Shijiazhuang Hideji was living in fear in this dilemma, afraid that one day he would be killed by the Thais before he had time to repent.
He wandered aimlessly on the street, looking to see if any familiar Japanese or Chinese shops were having breakfast, so he could get a bowl of rice.
While he was wandering, he suddenly saw the owner of a Japanese shop he knew, carrying large and small bundles, staggering along. Shijiazhuang knew at a glance that another merchant was running back to his country. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness. At least they had the ability to run. If he wanted to run, first, he had no money, and second, returning to Japan was very risky. The shogunate showed no mercy to Christians, and he might end up on a cross.
Unexpectedly, he got new information from this Japanese merchant. The Australian ship that had arrived here more than half a month ago was now recruiting Japanese.
According to Ping Qiusheng’s order, a message was spread throughout Thonburi: any Chinese or Japanese expatriates who were willing to leave Siam for the Great Ming or Japan would be provided with passage by the fleet, with only a small fee charged. Those who could not afford the fee could travel for free, but they would have to serve the Australians in Lin’gao for several months to pay off the fare. If they had no suitable place to go, they could also serve the Australians.
For any expatriates willing to serve the Australians, the Council of Elders guaranteed them sufficient wages and good living conditions. After their service period, they could freely go to any place they wished.
This news received an enthusiastic response. Many small merchants, seeing the possibility of chaos in Siam, decided to return to their home countries. As for the Japanese expatriates, especially Yamada Nagamasa’s men, they were already living in fear, and now that they had a chance to escape, why not take it?
The Southeast Asia Company had been trading goods here these days, and the transactions were very fair. They had not harassed the local residents, and seeing their strong ships and powerful cannons, the safety of the voyage should be guaranteed.
Due to the endless stream of Japanese expatriates coming to take the ship, many of whom came from the inland, they requested that their local compatriots plead for the fleet to wait a few more days after receiving the news. Ping Qiusheng finally stayed for another week before officially setting sail. During this period, Ping Qiusheng repeatedly declined the local villagers’ requests to have their wives come to “comfort” the Australian sea merchants, which disappointed both the pirate-turned-sailors and the local villagers.
Finally, the fleet, fully loaded with rice and potassium salt ore, and with more than forty Chinese merchants and over three hundred Japanese volunteers, set off on its grand return journey. Because there were too many people, many of the Japanese volunteers who could not afford the fare slept on the deck. Shijiazhuang was one of those sleeping on the deck. He was wrapped in an old fishing net he had gotten from somewhere, with his two swords carefully wrapped in straw and carried on his back—this was his only property and the tool he relied on for a living.
After the fleet returned to Lin’gao, the Chinese merchants bought tickets for the Great Wave Shipping Company’s ships and returned to Guangdong. Of course, during this period, they also did some investigation and sightseeing locally. After all, the reputation of the Australians and Lin’gao was already well-known. Everyone wanted to see for themselves if there were any new opportunities here.
As for the Japanese, except for a few merchants, almost all of them were penniless. Even if some could afford the fare to Guangdong or Fujian and the living expenses while waiting for a return ship, most were unwilling to return to their home country. They had originally come to Southeast Asia in the hope of escaping the poverty of their home country. Returning to Japan empty-handed now would only mean continuing to live in poverty. Moreover, many of them were Christians, and returning home was extremely risky. So, without much effort, most of the Japanese signed a service agreement with the Australians.
A total of 290 people chose to serve the Australians. They were immediately sent to the quarantine camp. After the quarantine period, this batch of Japanese volunteers would be incorporated into the auxiliary forces, serving as a public security army for the landings on Taiwan and Jeju Island, and in the future, as collaborators for Japan.
Ping Qiusheng’s trip to Southeast Asia was a great success. The large amount of rice and the trade agreement he reached brought him a high reputation. Wu De patted him on the shoulder with a big smile at his report meeting, making Elder Ping cry out in pain.
Apparently, it was possible to obtain a stable supply of rice from Siam. The disadvantage was that it was not as close as from Vietnam, and there were many typhoons in the summer, making the route to Siam dangerous. But by October, they could get a steady supply of grain from Siam. For the next three or four months of grain, including fixed consumption and projected consumption, the Planning Commission’s inventory was still sufficient to cover it.