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

Qian Lai's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm: "Madam is joking. Mingyue Trading Company has just opened; we don't have that kind of capital."

Madam Shen smiled and did not press the matter.

But before she left, she said one thing:

"Manager Qian, the Shen family has several well-known banks in the south. If your boss ever needs anything in the future, the Shen family can make a connection."

Qian Lai noted it down.

On his way back to Mingyue Tower, he pondered the sentence repeatedly.

Did Madam Shen guess something, or was it just a casual remark?

He decided to report the truth to his employer.

Zhu Zhanji listened to Qian Lai's report without saying a word.

He pondered for a moment, then asked a question:

"Manager Qian, why do you think the imperial court hasn't been actively promoting official silver banks?"

Qian Lai was taken aback.

He thought for a moment and said, "I heard that it's because the people in the Ministry of Revenue only know how to collect taxes and pay salaries, and they don't know how to run a business. The official bank has set up several branches, but it has lost money every year, so no one has mentioned it anymore."

Zhu Zhanji nodded and then asked, "Then tell me, what would the court think if someone in the private sector started a money exchange?"

Qian Lai fell silent.

He couldn't answer that question.

Zhu Zhanji didn't expect him to answer.

He got up and walked to the window, looking out at the sky.

"Manager Qian, let's not touch the money shop for now. Let's solidify the Mingyue Trading Company first, and expand the business of Hualu, Jingchuanglu, and Zuixianniang. Once we have ten thousand or twenty thousand taels in hand, we can think about the next step."

He turned around: "But we should keep that connection with Madam Shen; it will be useful in the future."

Qian Lai agreed.

Just as he was about to leave, Chun Tao came in to announce, "Your Highness, Uncle Yang has arrived."

Yang Pu arrived suddenly.

Zhu Zhanji went out to greet him, and Yang Pu was already seated in Tingxue Pavilion with a cup of tea in front of him.

"Uncle Yang, what brings you here?"

Yang Pu skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point: "Zhanji, I heard you've been inquiring about the North-South exchange of currency?"

Zhu Zhanji felt a chill run down his spine.

He sent Qian to inquire, and Yang Pu found out in just two days.

Uncle Yang's senses were more acute than he had imagined.

"Yes." He did not deny it. "My grandson is thinking that when the business grows bigger and money is constantly flowing back and forth, there has to be a way to manage it."

Yang Pu looked at him with a complicated expression.

"It's a good thing you have this idea," he said slowly.

"But the money exchange business is too complicated for you to deal with right now."

Zhu Zhanji lowered his head: "Grandson understands."

"I'm not here to stop you," Yang Pu said. "I'm here to remind you."

He lowered his voice: "Li Qing of the Ministry of Revenue has been discussing something recently. He wants to set up an official bank in Tongzhou to manage the disbursement of grain transport funds. If this goes through, the government will start eyeing private remittances."

Zhu Zhanji's heart skipped a beat.

"Your Mingyue Trading Company is neither too big nor too small now, right under someone's nose. If you rashly get involved in money lending, and someone gets a handle on you, even His Highness the Crown Prince can't protect you."

Zhu Zhanji bowed deeply: "Thank you for the reminder, Uncle Yang."

Yang Pu looked at him, a complex expression flashing in his eyes.

This child is indeed intelligent, but sometimes, his intelligence is frightening.

"Good that you understand." He stood up. "I'm leaving. Focus on your business and don't overthink it."

He walked to the door, then turned back and left a message:

"Come back to me when your business reaches ten thousand taels of silver."

After saying that, he stepped out the door and disappeared into the twilight.

Zhu Zhanji stood at the door, watching his retreating figure.

Ten thousand taels.

This was the goal Yang Pu set for him, and also the threshold he set.

Only when we reach ten thousand taels can we talk about the next step.

He turned and went back into the pavilion, saying to Qian, "Manager Qian, from now on, do three things with all your might."

"Please speak, sir."

"First, we need to double the production of floral dew within three months. We'll supply whatever the Shen family needs."

"Secondly, we should accept as many military orders as possible for Jingchuanglu. As for Dr. Wu, we should have him continue to test new formulas, especially those for dispelling miasma and preventing rust, which the border troops might need."

"Third, the sales of Drunken Immortal Brew can be gradually expanded. Let's start with 'Elegant Brew' and have Manager Qian contact a few reliable restaurants to try stocking it up."

Qian Lai wrote everything down.

"Master, how long will it take to reach the target of ten thousand taels?"

Zhu Zhanji thought for a moment: "If things go quickly, it will take half a year; if things go slowly, it will take a year."

He looked up, his eyes shining:

"We'll discuss the money exchange again in six months."

Meanwhile, Sun San has recently become somewhat obsessed with his cultivation.

Ever since he mentioned "carts" and "farm tools" at the meeting that day, he had been thinking about them.

The work on that batch of cars from the Ministry of Works is now on track.

The model is complete. The steering shaft is movable, the shock-absorbing pads are effective, and the cargo box size is just right.

After a few more adjustments, we can start feeding materials.

But other thoughts were always swirling in his mind.

That evening, he couldn't resist any longer and dragged the two old craftsmen to the old kiln factory again.

"Master Sun, what are you doing?"

Sun San took out a piece of paper with a strange-looking object drawn on it, like a wheel, but not quite a wheel.

The outer ring is made of sheet metal, the inside is made of wooden spokes, and there is an axle in the middle.

"Look," he said, pointing to the drawings, "the young prince drew a grain transport cart with wooden wheels covered in sheet metal. I was thinking, wouldn't it be more sturdy if the entire wheel was made of cast iron?"

An old craftsman shook his head: "How heavy would that be? Even a horse couldn't pull it."

"That's why it needs to be hollow," Sun San said. "An outer ring of iron, with wooden spokes supporting it inside, making it both sturdy and lightweight."

Another old craftsman's eyes lit up: "Master Sun, your idea is quite novel."

"There's more." Sun San took out another piece of paper with an even stranger drawing on it, like a big iron pot, but with a flat bottom and handles on the edge.

"What is this?"

"I was thinking, the carts the Ministry of Works needs are for transporting grain. If the entire carriage could be disassembled and replaced with something else, wouldn't it be able to do something else?"

He pointed to the blueprints: "For example, this is a big iron pot. When marching, you can unload the carriage, put this pot on it, and use it as a marching pot. When not transporting grain, the carriage can be used for other purposes."

The two old craftsmen looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Master Sun, what's wrong with your brain?"

Sun San scratched his head and smiled憨厚ly: "I was just thinking about it randomly."

He had someone write down these two ideas, intending to mention them the next time he met his employer.

Lin Xiuniang has also been thinking about new things recently.

Among the spices from Southeast Asia that Mrs. Shen sent that day was one called "sandalwood," which had a rich and lasting fragrance. She tried it a few times and found that when combined with jasmine dew, it could create a special flavor.

She made a few samples and had Qian Lai take them to several well-known wealthy women to try.

The feedback was unexpectedly good.

"Madam Lin," a noblewoman asked through a messenger, "do you still have that sandalwood-scented floral dew? My sisters and I all want some."

Lin Xiuniang's heart stirred.

She began to consciously experiment with different spice ratios.