The Young Dragon of the Ming Dynasty: Bound to an Industrial Blueprint from the Start

Qian Lai, observing the situation, immediately put on a smile: "Yes, yes, I was just being nosy. The original manager of Mingyue Tower, Zhou Laosi, was forced to sell it due to gambling debts. We took over cleanly and efficiently, with no future troubles. However..."

He hesitated for a moment, "These past few days, there seem to be some unfamiliar faces wandering around the neighborhood."

"Oh?" Guo Sheng's eyes narrowed.

"They don't look like thugs, but rather," Qian Lai leaned closer, "like servants from some mansion, or spies from the government. Our establishment hasn't even opened yet, and someone's already eyeing it. That's not a good sign."

Guo Sheng was silent for a moment: "Understood. Li Wei's men will be keeping an eye on things from the shadows. Just continue with your preparations as usual."

Meanwhile, in the Crown Prince's study.

Zhu Gaochi put down the report in his hand and rubbed his temples.

The myriad tasks of relocating the capital, the enormous expenses of the northern tour, and the urgent reports from the border troops demanding provisions and pay—each one weighed heavily on him.

"Your Highness," Yang Pu reported softly, "Minister Chen of the Ministry of Works requests an audience, saying that the timber for the expansion of the Tongzhou granary is insufficient again, and he requests additional funds."

Zhu Gaochi smiled wryly: "Li Qing from the Ministry of Revenue was complaining to me about being broke just yesterday, saying that he didn't even have enough money to cover the transportation costs of the grain. He's really struggling to make ends meet. Let him in."

Chen Gui rushed in, bowed, and said urgently, "Your Highness, it's not that I'm pressuring you, but the construction schedule simply cannot be delayed. If the autumn grain harvest is insufficient, it will be a matter of utmost importance!"

"I know," Zhu Gaochi sighed, "but where will the money come from? The budget for moving the capital has already exceeded its limit, and Father is urging us to make a northern tour..."

He suddenly remembered something and looked at Yang Pu: "Scholar Yang, the other day you said there was a merchant who could provide cheap timber from the south, and even guarantee its transport to the capital?"

Yang Pu nodded: "Yes, that man is named Guo Sheng. He owns a business called 'Xishan Goods Storehouse.' He was the one who contracted the auxiliary project for the Tongzhou warehouse last time. He did it quickly and well, saving a lot of money."

"Guo Sheng," Zhu Gaochi pondered, "is this person reliable?"

"I have investigated and found that he has a clean background and is reliable in his work. His proposed method of 'coordinated procurement and segmented water transport' is indeed more than 20% cheaper than the Ministry of Works' original piecemeal procurement."

Yang Pu added, "This person is low-key and doesn't like to show off, so it seems that he has another boss behind him."

Zhu Gaochi waved his hand: "In business, as long as the matter is handled well, it doesn't matter who is behind it. You should contact him. If you can really solve this timber shortage, I will remember his contribution."

"Yes."

Chen Gui hesitated, "Your Highness, can these private merchants be trusted? What if they delay the construction?"

"Minister Chen," Zhu Gaochi said gently, "In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures must be taken. Talk to him first, and if the plan is feasible, you may as well give it a try."

"Your humble servant obeys."

After the two men left, Zhu Gaochi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest.

The clear voice of a child reciting a poem drifted in from outside the window: "Guan guan cry the ospreys, on the islet in the river."

It was Zhu Zhanji.

Zhu Gaochi opened his eyes and looked through the window. He saw his son sitting on the porch, holding the Book of Poetry in a serious manner, his little head nodding, which was quite adorable.

A slight smile crept onto his lips.

This son is indeed intelligent, but he's too quick-witted.

A while ago he was making some kind of coal briquette stove, and now he's spending all his time in the study, eavesdropping on his discussions with his ministers. I wonder what's going on in that little head of his all day.

"Zhanji," he called.

Zhu Zhanji looked up and saw that it was his father. He quickly put down his book and bowed respectfully, saying, "Father."

"Come in."

Zhu Zhanji walked into the study with his short legs.

Zhu Gaochi pulled him close and stroked his head: "What did you learn today?"

"Father, I have learned 'Guanju'," Zhu Zhanji replied in a childish voice.

"The gentleman said that this refers to a virtuous person who should be 'joyful without being licentious, and sorrowful without being devastated'."

Zhu Gaochi smiled: "Do you understand what I mean?"

Zhu Zhanji blinked: "So you mean, we shouldn't be too happy, nor too sad; we should...we should maintain a balance?"

"Haha," Zhu Gaochi laughed heartily, "You're only a few years old, and you already understand the Doctrine of the Mean?"

He looked into his son's clear eyes. "Zhanji, I know you're smart, but some things are not for you to worry about at your age, understand?"

Zhu Zhanji's heart stirred, but his face remained innocent: "I understand. I just enjoy listening to Father and my uncles talk; I find it interesting."

"Interesting?" Zhu Gaochi chuckled. "What's the point of all that tedious political work? You should focus on your studies and martial arts; in the future..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but instead patted his son's head again. "Go on, go find your mother and ask her to make you some snacks."

"Yes, Father."

Zhu Zhanji left the study, but his mind was still pondering his father's words.

"You shouldn't be worrying about this at your age," he thought with a wry smile. "Father, your son has so much more to worry about than this."

That evening, in the backyard of Mingyue Tower.

Qian Lai stared at the three porcelain vases on the table, his expression solemn.

The three bottles contained clear, water-like liquids, but upon closer inspection, their colors differed slightly: one had a slightly bluish tint, one was pure and transparent, and the other had a very faint amber hue.

"Master Sun, is this 'Drunken Immortal's Brew'?" Qian Lai asked cautiously.

Standing opposite him was Sun San, who looked travel-worn and had clearly just arrived from Xishan Manor.

He pointed to the three bottles: "These are three batches of trial products. The one with a bluish tinge is the first batch. It was overcooked and the aroma is too strong. The one that is clear is the second batch. It was cooked just right, but the base liquor used is ordinary shochu, so the aftertaste is a bit weak."

This light amber-colored batch is the third batch, made with sorghum liquor brewed locally in the village as a base, distilled nine times, and using only the middle section.

He opened the third bottle, and immediately, a strange fragrance filled the air.

The aroma was not as strong as that of ordinary wine; instead, it was clear and refreshing like a spring, yet it also had a sharp, penetrating quality.

Upon closer inspection, one can detect a cool, refreshing scent reminiscent of pine needles and snowmelt, followed by a rich, mellow aroma of grains.

Qian Lai, a connoisseur of wine, was also moved at this moment.

He took three jade cups, poured a little into each, and tasted them one by one.

The first sip felt like swallowing hot coals—spicy and domineering.

The second glass was much milder, but the aftertaste was short-lived.

For the third cup, Qian Lai closed his eyes and savored it carefully.

"Fine wine!" Qian Lai opened his eyes, his face filled with shock. "No, this isn't just wine, it's nectar!"

He looked at Sun San: "Master Sun, how's the yield for this third batch?"

Sun San smiled bitterly: "Ten catties of top-quality sorghum liquor can only yield one catty and two ounces of 'essence,' and the brewing process is extremely difficult to control. If you're not careful, it will either be too strong or too bland. Currently, only my two old partners and I can produce a stable amount."

Qian Lai quickly made a decision in his mind.

Things are rare.

If this kind of divine brew could be mass-produced, it would become worthless.

It's all about having less, having more, and wanting something that people crave but can't have!