Su Minguan indeed had quite the ability to bewitch people. As soon as the pocket watch ticked, Lin Yuchan was at full capacity, nodding vigorously.
“When I was sailing the Yangtze, I was thinking,” she said clearly and rapidly, “if I could know the price changes at all the major ports, it would definitely give me wings in business, and I’d never again be led around by the nose by foreign merchants—of course, real-time prices couldn’t fly to my hands, but even a three-to-five-day delay would be very useful reference for me.”
“Miss Lin, let me remind you again,” Su Minguan remained unmoved, “just earning two extra taels of silver per load of cotton isn’t enough to support a steamship.”
“The fast ship would depart from Shanghai, make round trips to all treaty ports, recording local bulk commodity prices, foreign trading house purchase quotas, and current local exchange rates,” Lin Yuchan continued. “If water conditions are favorable, one round trip could be completed in two weeks. Then, we’d have specialists compile this intelligence into booklets and distribute them to all treaty ports for local Chinese merchants’ reference. This way, although the intelligence would still lag somewhat, at least everyone wouldn’t be completely in the dark, getting jerked around by foreign merchants like dogs on leashes.”
Su Minguan sipped his yellow wine while listening to her rapid narration, his mind already converting her words into vivid scenes, simulating various possible scenarios.
Price delays didn’t matter—even just knowing the direction of price differences between two locations, shrewd merchants could estimate much information from that… not to mention, combined with local foreign trading houses’ purchasing intentions, these two types of intelligence together would likely produce effects where one plus one exceeded two.
If she kept this intelligence to herself, doubling her shop’s profits wouldn’t be difficult. But she wanted to distribute it to everyone…
Su Minguan suddenly asked: “When you compile these booklets, I assume Miss Lin won’t have a sudden attack of charity and give them away for free?”
Lin Yuchan immediately slapped the table: “Five taels of silver per book—will you buy it or not?”
“Every two weeks, you want to publish a newspaper? A Chinese business newspaper?”
Lin Yuchan shook her head: “No. Too risky.”
Currently, Chinese people publishing newspapers was too dangerous—who knew when some official might take offense and collude with the police to break down your door and throw you in jail. All of Shanghai’s newspapers—even the Chinese-language ones—came from the various powers, which was why they dared speak freely.
But those thin “illegal publications”—she had already tested the waters with the “Raw Cotton Quality Assessment Manual.” Such unremarkable commercial booklets neither satirized officialdom nor promoted anti-Manchu, pro-Han sentiment, so the authorities couldn’t be bothered to care.
She said: “This way, the intelligence gap between Chinese and foreign merchants would largely close, and Chinese merchants overall would benefit more. Previously, foreigners controlled all bulk commodity pricing power. If all Chinese merchants could know prices in various locations, at least we could wrestle back some of that pricing power.”
Su Minguan looked at the little girl’s spirited face and her idealistic declaration of selfless dedication. When she got excited, she gestured with open hands like a foreigner to strengthen her rhetoric.
“A’Mei,” he said helplessly, “you don’t need to put on such a grand, empty show for me. You just want to find a bunch of suckers to share the costs of your ‘eight-hundred-li express steamship.'”
Lin Yuchan’s face reddened slightly as she obsequiously refilled his wine again.
“Sorry… that was naturally the external pitch. I’ve rehearsed it so often that it slipped out automatically. My apologies.”
Su Minguan laughed softly and long. So refreshingly honest and adorable.
Ultimately, she couldn’t let go of her “Cotton Guild.” It was just that after touring the interior, her ambitions had expanded—one cotton guild wasn’t enough; she wanted to monopolize real-time price intelligence for all bulk commodities.
Su Minguan had considered similar things before, even having dock workers copy down port commodity prices for a while, but finding no pattern, he gave up.
Thinking back now, since these commodities weren’t his main business, he lacked some sensitivity and couldn’t spare time like Lin Yuchan to specifically investigate the various concessions in detail, so…
This money was rightfully hers to earn.
The fried pork cutlets and potato salad were nearly finished. Su Minguan noticed that throughout most of this meal, Lin Yuchan had been talking while the wine before her remained untouched, and as for food, he didn’t know how much she’d eaten.
He rang for the waiter and ordered more Comprador soup and buttered toast, placing everything before her.
“Now it’s my turn to pour cold water. A’Mei, eat.”
With her male god’s voice as accompaniment to the meal, Lin Yuchan was quite satisfied. Not caring about cold water, she held her napkin in her left hand and a soup spoon in her right, waiting for the financier’s interview.
She curiously stirred the Comprador soup—actually a transliteration of “Comprador soup,” literally meaning “comprador soup.” The seasonings were quite East-meets-West—abalone strips, vegetable strips, dried bean curd strips, mung bean noodles, all mixed in a cream soup base—a dish Westerners would never attempt.
Chinese ingredients coated with a layer of cream skin immediately increased their value a hundredfold—this “comprador soup” truly lived up to its name.
Su Minguan: “First, if you really could compile commodity prices from all ports, I believe that even if people couldn’t immediately recognize their value, given time, merchants would flock to them. The problem is, how do you convince those penny-pinching merchants everywhere to pay for a few simple numbers? Even if you price it at five taels of silver, they could easily buy one copy among several people, then share it around, or simply buy it back to print privately and resell at low prices… In the end, perhaps every merchant in Shanghai would have a real-time price list, while your income from it wouldn’t cover a steamship engineer’s wages.”
Lin Yuchan nodded.
The concept of “paying for information” hasn’t achieved universal adoption even in modern society. If she naively printed booklets to sell, predictably, she’d mostly be making wedding clothes for others—within two or three days, pirated copies would fly everywhere while she ate dirt miserably.
She said slowly, “The supplement that the North China Herald added—the Shipping and Mercantile Gazette—actually provides similar convenient intelligence for foreign merchants. Since the Shipping and Mercantile Gazette can make money, this profit model is viable. The difference is that foreigners are mostly wealthy and don’t care about subscription fees, while newspapers follow a low-profit, high-volume route, and with foreigners’ income levels, the pricing is relatively cheap, so…”
When prices dropped to a certain level, people weren’t very willing to go through great trouble for piracy. Moreover, without scanning or photography in this era, piracy costs were relatively high.
The prerequisite was that she needed enough “subscription users.”
With Boya’s current commercial reputation, they probably couldn’t become instantly famous throughout Shanghai.
She immediately added: “We could start with low prices or free distribution, wait until people get used to using intelligence for business, then raise prices…”
“How long would that take, approximately?” Su Minguan asked with a smile. “Ten years?”
Lin Yuchan was speechless.
This was later internet startup thinking—opening with low-price subsidies, first capturing a wave of consumers, then after seizing the market, quietly raising prices or promoting other value-added services.
However, in the Qing Dynasty, with its slow pace of life and work, merchants following thousands of years of trading habits weren’t so easily changed.
Lin Yuchan roughly calculated. Unless she could secure another three thousand taels in investment capital, she probably couldn’t afford this strategy.
Su Minguan saw that the Comprador soup before her remained untouched and smiled helplessly. He shouldn’t have encouraged her to talk.
He scooped up a spoonful and leaned forward to bring it to her lips.
Lin Yuchan was also somewhat thirsty and embarrassedly put down her notebook. Looking at the private room’s window, the curtains were only half-drawn, and customers coming and going outside could see in.
She was too embarrassed to play aerial refueling with him, so she took the spoon. This time, suppressing her surging thoughts, she obediently finished the entire bowl of soup. It was unexpectedly rich and fragrant.
Taking another bite of bread filled her mouth with a creamy flavor.
Using the soup-drinking time, she had already reorganized her thoughts.
After all, she’d been thinking about this since the return journey from Hankou, and after returning to Shanghai, she’d discussed it several times with Boya’s two highly educated managers. With adequate preparation, she wouldn’t be thrown off by Su Minguan’s cold water.
“Um… how about this?” Lin Yuchan said confidently, “Establish the ‘Boya Club’—pay membership fees to join. Each time the steamship arrives at port, members can enter with credentials, and specialists will read various intelligence reports aloud, with everyone taking what they need—yes, just like compradors announcing opening and closing prices at the port—all intelligence never committed to paper, thus eliminating the possibility of copying or piracy.”
If facing another big boss, she’d need to consider her wording carefully, not letting them think she was too flighty or foolish. But facing Su Minguan, she felt safe speaking freely.
Su Minguan nodded.
This approach was much stronger. He couldn’t immediately detect any fatal flaws.
Her only concern might be that as the “club’s” membership increased daily, they probably wouldn’t find suitable venues for reading intelligence.
She had weathered this first bucket of cold water. Though not perfectly, there was still room for improvement.
“Second,” he changed topics, “I suspect foreign merchants won’t let you open this new business so smoothly.”
Lin Yuchan nodded, feigning distress: “Backwardness invites beatings—foreigners can bully us at will.”
Su Minguan, hearing her completely insincere distress, smiled and tapped her bread with his chopsticks.
“Miss Lin, please enlighten me.”
“Information sharing among Chinese merchants, no longer being manipulated by foreigners, would indeed make many foreign trading houses feel threatened—they could no longer squeeze Chinese merchants at will. They would oppose it.” Lin Yuchan said, “But there’s one foreigner who holds the lifeline of all Chinese and foreign merchants in Shanghai. When Chinese merchants make more money, he benefits too…”
Su Minguan started, then understood, smiling: “But if foreign merchants suffer losses, they’d pay less tax too. The two would cancel out…”
“Fair and competitive markets are always more efficient. In such markets, total wealth would be higher than in monopolistic and opaque markets.” Lin Yuchan seriously questioned, “Comrade Xiao Bai, did you read The Wealth of Nations for nothing?”
Su Minguan was speechless, suddenly forgetting how to hold his knife and fork, glaring at her fiercely.
Still bringing up The Wealth of Nations. With such poor study conditions, it would be a miracle if he could read a single word!
Before Lin Yuchan could feel smug, Su Minguan counterattacked.
“Are you certain Hede has read The Wealth of Nations?”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
Ignoring this topic, she took the North China Herald from her bag.
“Qing officials break faith treacherously, savagely massacre, China and Britain nearly resume warfare,” Lin Yuchan opened to the inner pages’ “War Updates” to show Su Minguan. “Read this.”
Su Minguan pretended to have a headache: “How much promotional commission did this newspaper give you?”
Despite his words, he still took it and glanced over. After casually reading a few lines, he became serious, frowning as he read the entire section.
Last month, Li Hongzhang’s “Suzhou massacre of surrendered troops” incident provoked international public opinion condemnation. Especially the foreign mercenary force “Ever Victorious Army” that fought alongside the Huai Army accused Li Hongzhang of despicable behavior, using the opportunity to provoke mutiny and seek more compromises and benefits.
Conflict was imminent.
At the critical moment, a mediator descended from heaven. Hede, the Inspector General of Customs who had relationships with both Chinese and British sides, visited Suzhou. The newspaper didn’t reveal specific details, but under Hede’s fierce operations, Li Hongzhang and the Ever Victorious Army shook hands and made peace, with compensation for those wrongly killed surrendered soldiers.
Of course, in this British-authored report, there was still some sourness about Hede’s turning the tide, with barbed commentary that in this Sino-British conflict, Briton Hede could forget his homeland and queen, maintaining “absolute neutrality”—truly showing professional quality.
Lin Yuchan said shamelessly: “I think Lord Hede owes me a tiny favor.”
She gestured with thumb and forefinger. Due to excessive modesty, her thumb and forefinger accidentally touched.
Su Minguan folded the newspaper, poured a cup of wine, and drained it, joking with slight disappointment:
“A’Mei, when might I have such fortune to owe you a small favor?”
“There’s an opportunity right now.” Lin Yuchan raised her wine cup, forcibly clinking it against his empty glass. “I invite you to become the first member of the Boya Club, membership fee waived, all market information available for free viewing…”
The bamboo curtain at the entrance suddenly rustled. The waiter poked his head in with a smile.
“Excuse me, sir and madam, do you need any more dishes?”
Su Minguan calmly stood up and said, “The check.”
The Western restaurant was booming with business. Seeing the private room’s plates and bowls cleaned out with two customers still occupying the table chatting, the waiter was urging table turnover.
After the waiter left, Lin Yuchan boldly reached out, pulling the pocket watch from Su Minguan’s chest to look.
“Oh, half an hour’s up.” She was embarrassed. “Does this count as convincing you? You didn’t shake your head, so I’ll take it as a nod. —Hey, wait, we agreed I was treating.”
Su Minguan had already tossed five silver coins on the table—nowadays Western restaurants followed foreign customs, charging per person, including tips of two and a half silver dollars each, considered mid-to-high-end consumption.
Still cheaper than a drinking party at Tianxiang Tower, though.
He pocketed his watch and mocked her: “How many bites did you eat?”
Then he patted her back, half-suggestion, half-command: “Walk with me.”
Lin Yuchan realized her old problem was acting up again. This young master had traveled thousands of li from Hankou back, still dusty from the road, came to find her, and even brought her a case of miscellaneous treasures.
And her? She just treated him to Western food. And he ended up paying.
From his return until now, they hadn’t exchanged any sweet words about missing each other—first she’d had him answer a pile of real estate questions, then listened to her envision the “Boya Club,” without hearing a single sweet nothing.
But he never complained, patiently accompanying her flights of fancy.
The concession remained prosperous. Changed voices and loud laughter came from roadside opium dens, police chased beggars, coolies dredged waterways, carrying away yellow sand and mud.
Lin Yuchan knew she wasn’t the clingy type of girlfriend. She didn’t particularly care about his eating, drinking, and daily needs on the road, nor did she like pestering him with questions about his wellbeing—he wasn’t a child and could take good care of himself without needing a nanny.
She preferred challenging each other, setting traps for each other, finally seeing “A’Mei is so capable, I admit defeat” in his eyes.
Though achieving this last point was rather difficult. If it happened once out of ten times, she could float on air.
This time, would it happen…
She temporarily set aside those ambitious plans, caught up with Su Minguan, and with some hard-to-express guilt, smiled obediently: “Where to? Should we go back to Yixing? I can help you organize your luggage.”
Su Minguan got a small fright, looking at her puzzled, teasing: “Oh, getting virtuous now.”
She was even more embarrassed: “Right, I haven’t even asked if your journey went smoothly…”
Su Minguan couldn’t help laughing. Only thinking to ask this after several hours had passed—her reaction speed was lightning fast, catching up to Jiang Gaosheng.
Seeing Lin Yuchan’s evasive gaze, he guessed her little thoughts: afraid of seeming too cold toward him, clumsily trying to make up for it.
Su Minguan pulled a piece of hawthorn candy from his pocket and plugged her mouth.
“This time last year, I thought that for the rest of my life, I’d never see your good face again, never hear you call my name. I was prepared to live days without you, even being hated by you.” He said quietly, “So Miss Lin, that you don’t hate me now, still trust me, still talk to me me-me-me-no matter what boring, uninteresting things you say—for me, it’s all unexpected joy of recovery.”
Lin Yuchan suddenly stumbled, struck by this unexpectedly direct statement that made her heart tremble, the spicy soy sauce in her stomach rampaging through her limbs, burning sudden warmth throughout her body.
Su Minguan smiled gently.
“So, don’t worry about how to make me happy. I’m always happy. Even when you occasionally anger me, I’m happy afterward.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a moment’s loneliness was immediately replaced by a graceful demeanor, his smile deepening as he pointed ahead.
“So, assuming your intelligence club is irreplaceable and won’t be hindered by foreigners.” Su Minguan put a piece of hawthorn candy in his mouth. “Your membership fees alone probably still couldn’t support a steamship. Of course, I’m just speculating. We might as well verify.”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
He had unilaterally delivered a string of critical hits without giving her any time to digest. Her eyes were moist, and he started discussing business as if nothing had happened!
Her heart was in chaos, so she obediently nodded, then a quiet smile bloomed from her heart as she stole upward glances at that jade-like, dignified face.
She had fallen into this ignorant and chaotic world, thinking she wouldn’t survive three days; yet now she was alive and kicking.
Since she was alive, the suffering she’d endured, the hunger she’d felt, the illnesses she’d had, the beatings she’d taken, the humiliation and injustice she’d suffered, the head injuries from hitting walls… weren’t they all unexpected joys?
Moreover, life was generally getting brighter. She even had opportunities to enjoy food, drink, and entertainment, could make money, make friends, and had someone she liked to care about…
It was practically joy falling from heaven.
The docks bustled with people. With the New Year approaching, merchants were eager to return home, all rushing to clear their goods.
Customs inspectors—also called samplers—held thin bamboo poles called “qianzi,” poking and checking cargo.
Tea and cotton prices were especially cheap. Boya had reached a consensus to fully leverage local merchant advantages, rent cheap warehouses, stockpile goods first, and wait for post-New Year price recovery.
So Lin Yuchan looked at those price boards with a calm heart, even secretly pleased.
Su Minguan called over the Heaven and Earth Society dock worker who had once exchanged secret codes with Lin Yuchan, having him find Lin Yuchan a place to sit.
Not knowing what he was up to, she cheerfully complied.
Su Minguan dusted off his clothes and casually joined the crowd.
His charisma fully activated, he quickly struck up warm conversation with a merchant.
The merchant put his arm around Su Minguan’s shoulders, laughing loudly: “…high prices or low, there’s enough to go home for New Year. A family eating a lively meal together is more important than anything…”
Su Minguan smiled and agreed, casually asking: “Brother, I presume to ask curiously—if I had connections to find out this week’s raw silk purchase prices in Zhenjiang, Ningbo, and Hankou, how much would you pay for it?”
The merchant was slightly startled, looked at this young but steady new friend, and smiled: “You know? Come, come, talking money hurts feelings. There’s a ‘Furong Hall’ nearby where I’m a regular—smoke a pipe, feel like immortals, let’s chat slowly.”
Su Minguan smiled: “Since you’re willing to spend a dollar treating me to smoke, why not give me that dollar instead?”
The merchant frowned, feeling they weren’t quite on the same wavelength.
But this young brother seemed trustworthy, not like a swindler. After some hemming and hawing, the merchant reluctantly said: “Fine, fine, since you know market conditions, I’ll pay you a dollar… you don’t look like you need this money, really…”
Just then, a dock worker came running over, whispering something to Su Minguan. Su Minguan cupped his hands apologetically.
“Something urgent, I must go.”
Leaving the merchant completely baffled.
“Hey, too little? Then two dollars… little brother, don’t leave…”
Su Minguan calmly escaped, winking at Lin Yuchan from afar while holding up two fingers.
This person would pay two silver dollars for intelligence.
…
Lin Yuchan excitedly leaned forward, observing Su “Everyone’s Beloved” “Shanghai’s Social Butterfly” “Minguan the Third” working the docks.
In just one hour, he roughly chatted up fifty people. With his heaven-blessed appearance and silver tongue, only seven or eight took him for a swindler; the rest gave him face and chatted a few sentences.
Most people expressed interest in his intelligence provision. Seventeen were willing to pay.
“Average offer is one and a half silver dollars.” Su Minguan returned to Lin Yuchan’s side, accepting tea from a dock worker and draining it to moisten his throat. “Shanghai port has about two thousand registered and active foreign trade firms dealing in bulk commodities. At a ratio of seventeen out of fifty, at most 680 firms would pay for your intelligence, each offering one and a half dollars, earning 1,020 silver dollars per time, about 700 taels of silver. Twenty round trips yearly would be 14,000 taels profit.”
Lin Yuchan was hit in the face by the sampling survey data, momentarily speechless.
According to what he’d said earlier, a small steam speedboat doing round-trip cargo runs, twenty trips yearly, averaging 2,500 taels transport fees per trip, with a twenty percent profit margin.
That meant costs reached 40,000 taels annually.
This 14,000 taels couldn’t even cover steamship operating costs.
After thinking, she immediately said: “Hankou Tea Guild is willing to provide preferential dock berths, supplies, and venue at favorable rates.”
Su Minguan gave her an impressed look, then shook his head: “A small favor might save a hundred taels in costs.”
“Revenue sharing.”
“Left hand to right hand, still running at a loss.”
“The ‘Boya Club’ could open at all treaty ports along the coast, not just Shanghai.”
“All coastal treaty ports combined couldn’t match Shanghai’s merchant numbers—fine, assume they match Shanghai, your profits double to 28,000 taels. Still less than steamship costs.”
Lin Yuchan’s mind raced: “Then, while ensuring speed, this speedboat could also do express passenger and cargo service to subsidize costs.”
“Demand isn’t very high there. Following your plan, we could probably break even.” Su Minguan also answered faster. “However, if I bought a steam speedboat to transport my cargo and make big money, why would I outsource to you and end up with zero grain yearly?”
He ruthlessly threw out this question, eyes crinkling as he waited for her response.