I founded a heavy industry group in the late Ming Dynasty.

Chapter 165 They actually tried to play dirty tricks on me!

Chapter 164 Chen Ying knew that newspapers were easy to produce, but getting the people to read them, understand them, and trust them was not something that could be done in a day or two. But he was confident because truth is simple and facts are powerful. However, he still underestimated the backlash from the civil service group. In fact, collusion between officials and merchants was the norm in the Ming Dynasty. Almost any large-scale business had either one official or a group of officials behind it.

For example, the famous Ming Dynasty trading company "Jin Feng De" was a business controlled by the Wang Chonggu family. "Cun Yi Gong" money exchange was owned by the brother-in-law of Wang Guoguang, the Minister of Personnel during the Jiajing era. Other notable businesses included Ri Sheng Yuan, Yong Tai Sheng, Jin Tai Yu, and Tai Lai.

However, on the very first day of the publication of Yongming Daily, Chen Ying felt the influence of the civil service group.

"Godfather, none of the bookstores, teahouses, or restaurants in the capital are willing to sell your newspaper. Some shopkeepers stammered, saying their shops were too small to display it, while others bluntly stated that they dared not sell Lord Chen's newspaper. Even the street vendors were told not to sell your newspaper."

After listening to Chen Yongren's report, Chen Ying fell silent.

"and then?"

"Of the 568 bookstores in the capital, not a single one was willing to sell our newspapers, nor were the teahouses and restaurants. The peddlers were even threatened; anyone who dared to sell Lord Chen's newspapers would have their stall smashed."

Chen Ying put down his pen, without getting angry, and simply said, "As expected."

Chen Yongren immediately panicked: "Godfather, what should we do? We can't just send people to carry newspapers to the streets to sell, can we? The capital is so big, even if we brought all the soldiers from the Shahe Guard, we still wouldn't be able to spread them out!"

Chen Ying looked at him and suddenly laughed: "Yongren, you've been with me for so long, how come you're still so impatient?"

He stood up, walked to his desk, pulled out a sheet of drawings from a stack, and spread it on the table. The drawing depicted a strange vehicle with three wheels: a small wheel in the front and two large wheels in the back. In the middle was a closed carriage with a roof that could be opened like a giant umbrella. There were pedals at the handlebars, and a chain connected to the rear wheel; it was clearly human-powered.

"What is this?"

Chen Yongren leaned closer, his face full of doubt.

"Tricycle".

Pointing to the blueprints, Chen Ying explained each section: "The small wheel in the front is for steering, and the two large wheels in the back are for driving. The foot pedals drive the chain, which in turn drives the rear wheel. When a person sits on it and pedals, it moves forward. The carriage is enclosed to protect it from wind and rain, and the sides can be opened to form a simple shed that provides shade and shelter from the rain. Newspapers can be hung on the sides of the carriage, and there is storage space at the bottom. Normally, it can be used as a vehicle, and when stopped, the canopy can be put up, turning it into a mobile newsstand."

Chen Yongren was dumbfounded. He had followed Chen Ying for so many years and had seen many strange and unusual things, but this was the first time he had ever seen a tricycle like this.

"Godfather, can this thing run away?"

"Of course it can run!"

Chen Ying had previously considered producing bicycles, but that wasn't his most pressing need. Now, after more than two years of technological preparation, he had achieved the technology to produce human-powered bicycles. The bearings, chains, shock absorbers, and springs were all fully developed. Apart from the lack of rubber tires for the time being, this tricycle was not fundamentally different from the tricycles of later generations.

Chen Ying smiled and said, "The carriage workshop in Shahewei has already produced three hundred prototype carriages and is ready for mass production."

"Godfather, even if we have cars, we don't have the manpower. Beijing is so big, hundreds of bookstores won't sell our newspapers. What good are three hundred cars?"

Chen Ying shook his head and said, "Yongren, you still don't understand. What your father wants is not a few hundred cars, but a channel."

He walked back to his desk, picked up a newly drafted document, and handed it to Chen Yongren: "Take a look at this."

Chen Yongren took it and saw that it read "Recruitment Regulations for Mobile Newspaper Sellers of Daming Newspaper Group".

"Since the founding of the Ming Dynasty by Emperor Taizu, the population has grown rapidly. However, natural disasters are frequent, and the land's resources are limited, leaving millions of unemployed and displaced people. Although the imperial court provides relief, it is insufficient to reach everyone. I, by order of the Emperor, have established the newspaper *Da Ming Ning* to enlighten the people and facilitate communication between the upper and lower classes. However, bookstores, teahouses, and restaurants in the capital all refuse to sell it, citing various excuses. Therefore, I have decided to establish my own newspaper sales channel, recruiting unemployed and displaced people and training them to be mobile newspaper vendors—"

Chen Yongren read on, his heart growing increasingly horrified. The recruitment targets were unemployed vagrants, aged sixteen to forty, in good health, and without any bad habits. Training included literacy, arithmetic, etiquette, and newspaper-selling skills. Room and board were provided during training, and graduates were issued uniforms and tricycles for selling newspapers. The base salary was twenty coins per day, with a 30% commission on newspaper sales. Newspaper profits were split 30/70, with the newspaper receiving 70% and the seller 30%. The newspaper provided the vehicle; sellers paid a small monthly depreciation fee, and the vehicle became their property after three years. Sellers could also purchase the vehicle outright at a 20% discount. Sellers received medical benefits provided by the newspaper, and families of those who died on the job received compensation.

"grown ups----"

Chen Yongren hadn't yet grasped Chen Ying's true intentions, but Su Mei had already seen through them: "How many refugees are you planning to support?"

Chen Ying held up three fingers: "Eight thousand men initially, three thousand in the capital, one thousand in Tianjin, one thousand in Dengzhou, and the rest in Baoding and Hejian..."

Five hundred men were stationed in Qingzhou and other areas, with more to be added gradually depending on the situation.

"Eight thousand people, that's eight thousand tricycles. How much does one tricycle cost?"

"With mass production, the cost can be reduced to around twelve taels of silver. The initial production of 8,000 vehicles will cost 96,000 taels of silver. Including training, uniforms, basic salary, and medical care, the initial investment will not exceed 200,000 taels of silver."

Chen Yongren said with a wry smile, "Godfather, two hundred thousand taels—that's two million four hundred thousand taels of silver a year. Isn't that too much? Your money didn't come from thin air."

Chen Ying smiled and said, "Yongren, have you calculated it? Eight thousand newspaper vendors, each selling five newspapers a day, that's forty thousand newspapers a day. Each newspaper costs seven coins to produce and sells for five coins, so you're losing two coins in the process—"

In order to start a newspaper, Chen Ying first needed to cultivate an audience. After all, this was a new thing, which required time and money. Just like a certain group in later years, people were not used to this delivery method at the beginning, and a lot of subsidies were needed to cultivate an audience. The people of the Ming Dynasty had limited spending power, but the gentry class had spending power. Unfortunately, they would not read his newspaper.

The approach adopted by Chen Ying was similar to that of a certain company in later generations, combining self-operated channels with the recruitment of refugees. This not only solved the sales problem but also continued Chen Ying's original intention to change the future fate of the Ming Dynasty by developing industry, establishing businesses, and supporting refugees.

"Warfare relies on military strategy, and business relies on accounting. Those Donglin Party members only know how to use power to suppress people. As their father, I will use interests to move people and see who has the last laugh."

Chen Yongren accepted the order and left. However, Chen Yongren would not act as a mere tool. He had his own ideas. These newspaper sellers not only had low incomes from selling newspapers, but also increased costs. He was also a person who could think outside the box. This newspaper sales network could also be used to increase the sales of small items, such as needles and thread, salt, kitchen knives, scissors, and even small commodities like candy.

Although the salary of 500 coins was not high, it was a way to survive for the refugees. Chen Ying originally wanted to recruit 8,000 refugees, of which only 3,000 were from the capital. However, the problem was that the number of refugees who signed up, and even some people with property, was as high as 60,000 to 70,000.

After a brief training session, especially since riding a tricycle requires a certain level of skill, tricycles first appeared in the capital of the Ming Dynasty half a month later. They quickly became a new sight, with rows of green tricycles parked at street corners, alleyways, and city gates. Their cargo boxes, with their roofs open like giant umbrellas, bore the four large characters "Da Ming Newspaper Industry." The sides of the boxes were adorned with the day's newspapers and a dazzling array of small commodities, making them particularly eye-catching. The newspaper vendors wore uniform blue uniforms, straw hats, and cloth bags, and always had friendly smiles.

"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale! The 'Da Ming Bao' newspaper, only five copper coins a copy! The imperial court has reduced taxes, new grain planting techniques, and a yield of a thousand catties per mu is no longer a dream! Wool cloth is cheaper—only five copper coins! You won't lose out, you won't be cheated!"

Curious onlookers gathered around; some bought newspapers, some watched the spectacle, and some chatted with the newspaper seller.

"Hey bro, that's a nice car. Where did you buy it?"

"This is supplied by the newspaper office; it's not for delivery."

"How much do you earn in a month selling newspapers?"

"The monthly allowance is five hundred cash, plus commission, so you can earn more than one tael a month. If you do well, you can earn two or three taels."

"More than an ounce? That's much better than farming!"

"That's because—Lord Chen said that as long as we're willing to put in the effort, we won't go hungry."

When the news reached the ears of the Donglin Party, Qian Qianyi was so angry that he trembled all over.

Huang Daozhou said with a wry smile, "Brother Qian, we can control bookstores, teahouses, and restaurants, but we can't control the streets and alleys. Those tricycles park here today and there tomorrow; we can't possibly send people to ride them around every day, can we?"

Qian Qianyi gritted his teeth: "Then send people to smash them! Smash their cars, let's see how they sell them then!"

Huang Daozhou shook his head: "Lord Qian, you mustn't. Those newspaper vendors are all vagrants, they have nothing to begin with. If you smash their carts, they'll fight you to the death. If someone gets killed, Chen Boying will have a perfect excuse to make trouble."

Qian Qianyi scoffed, "Find some rotten people, make sure they're clean-cut. Besides, the people handling the case are our own; what can he possibly do? This Chen Boying is digging up the foundations of all of us. If we don't bring him down, the consequences will be unimaginable!"

Early mornings on Qipan Street are always the busiest time in Beijing. Steam rises from breakfast stalls, mule carts rumble by, and pedestrians weave through the streets. As usual, the green tricycle at the street corner has its canopy up, and the young newspaper seller, Xiao Li, is sorting the day's newspapers. His movements are practiced, his fingers flying between the pages as he hangs the folded newspapers on both sides of the cart.

"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale! The 'Da Ming Bao' newspaper, five copper coins a copy! The leader of the Rouge Alley meets his lover in secret, and Lord Gu of the Ministry of Justice has a night of passion—five copper coins! You won't lose out, you won't be cheated!"

Xiao Li was also a quick-witted person. He soon discovered what everyone loved to read, and he became the first clickbaiter in the Ming Dynasty, spouting nothing but gossip. His sales figures were also quite impressive.

His clear calls carried far in the morning air. Several early-rising elderly people gathered around, taking out their coins to buy newspapers. Little Li took the money, smiling as he handed over the newspaper, saying, "Grandpa, take this. There are even methods for growing vegetables in here. Show them to your son when you get home; I guarantee they'll be useful."

Everything was normal until a dozen or so fierce-looking men emerged from the alleyway.

Before Xiao Li could react, the burly man leading the group kicked the tricycle's cargo box with a loud crash. Newspapers scattered all over the ground. Xiao Li instinctively bent down to pick them up, when a fist slammed into his face, and blood gushed from his nose.

"You dare bark! You dare bark! You're disturbing my peaceful sleep, you bastard! Try barking again, you son of a bitch!"

The burly man cursed and rained punches down on Xiao Li. The others joined in, some smashing cars, some tearing up newspapers, and some grabbing money boxes. Xiao Li clutched his head, curled up on the ground, groaning incoherently.

"Remember this, if you sell this lousy newspaper again, I'll beat you to death!"

The burly man at the head of the group spat and led his men away. The passersby stood at a distance, none daring to approach. Some shook their heads and sighed, some cursed under their breath, and some quietly picked up the scattered newspapers and stuffed them into their sleeves.

Xiao Li lay in a pool of blood, his eyes half-open and half-closed, his mouth covered in blood. His fingers were still moving, as if he were groping for something.

An old woman knelt down, wiped the blood from his face with her sleeve, and choked out, "Child, bear with it, I'll go report it to the authorities."

Report it to the authorities? Xiao Li wanted to laugh, but couldn't. He had heard yesterday that his brother on Qianmen Street had also been beaten, reported it to the authorities, the yamen runners came and went around, said "they are investigating," and then nothing more was said.

He had been wandering for over half a year, enduring periods of hunger and hardship, finally finding food, clothing, and work. But now—

"Godfather, in just three days, over sixty cars have been smashed and more than forty brothers have been injured in Beijing. News has also come from Tianjin, Baoding, and Hejian that there have been disturbances, car smashings, and assaults. Those thugs are specifically targeting our newspaper vendors. The brothers are now too afraid to go out. Some are hiding in their lodgings, some have run back to the refugee camp, and some—some have simply quit."

Chen Ying put down the sample newspaper in his hand, his face calm. But Chen Yongren knew that this calmness was more terrifying than rage.

"Is anyone dead?"

"No. But the injuries are quite severe. Several people have broken ribs, some have had one hand crippled. And—"

"What else?"

Chen Yongren gritted his teeth: "Someone even posted notices in the newspapers saying—that anyone who dares to sell Chen Boying's newspapers is going against the Donglin Party and against all scholars in the world. They also said—"