Chapter 224: Trading Post

Chapter 224: Commercial Stations

Third Master Zhu arrived in Xiwu Prefecture at the end of March, not only to congratulate Song Tingzhou on his promotion but also because the Zhu family had close ties with the Song family—the more successful Song Tingzhou became, the more Third Master Zhu could ride his coattails. At least in the Xiwu region, mentioning Prefect Song made him known to all, which made Third Master Zhu’s business dealings much smoother.

“You want to form a trading caravan?” Still sitting in the pavilion outside Zhen Guan Workshop, Third Master Zhu gazed at the three colossal workshops in front of him as he spoke to Meng Wan.

“To be precise, it’s not me forming it, but Xiao Yu.” Meng Wan waved Yu Yandong over.

As the young master of the Yu family, a long-established merchant house, Yu Yandong, with no airs at all, politely bowed to Third Master Zhu.

Meng Wan was extremely pleased with his manner and introduced him to Third Master Zhu: “The Yu family is currently the richest and most influential merchant in Xiwu.”

With that one sentence, Third Master Zhu got Meng Wan’s drift. With this young man handling matters, others would naturally show him respect for his father’s sake. Moreover, having a local in charge brought numerous conveniences.

Third Master Zhu asked, “So you want me to mentor him?”

Meng Wan didn’t bother with formalities with Third Master Zhu and said matter-of-factly, “Having Third Uncle take him on some trade trips is a given, but the trading caravan I’m talking about isn’t the same as what you’re thinking. Third Uncle knows how relay stations work, right?”

Third Uncle Zhu asked in surprise, “Relay stations? In Yu, relay stations are built every eighty li, allowing travel of up to three hundred li a day. Officials can use station resources with an official pass, but what does that have to do with merchants like us?”

The main purpose of Yu’s relay stations was to transmit letters, military intelligence, and transport military supplies. They were built even in uninhabited areas, and no one dared rob them—if bandits attacked a station, the nearest military garrison would wipe out every bandit hideout in the surrounding hills the next day.

With Song Tingzhou as the prefect, Meng Wan knew that road construction in Xiwu and even the entire Lingnan region was a major trend over the next three years. Roads would make it easier for mountain folk to leave the mountains, but merchants would benefit the most.

Influenced by Song Tingzhou, Meng Wan often approached problems from a grassroots perspective. “If merchants could transport goods in less time with lower losses, that extra margin could be used to raise fruit farmers’ prices by two percent.”

Third Master Zhu chuckled, thinking Meng Wan was a bit overly sentimental. “I’m afraid most would think of pocketing that extra profit instead of voluntarily raising prices for the fruit growers.” As a merchant himself, he admitted he would act the same way.

Meng Wan wasn’t too worried about that. Once the roads were smooth and trade flowed freely, he could subtly regulate things so that merchants would have no choice but to raise prices for the fruit farmers.

“Third Uncle, when you went to the sugar workshop, how did you find the roads in Heshan now?” Meng Wan shifted the topic to the roads.

At least half of the roads in Heshan County had been completed—not just official roads and towns, but also the countless villages under Heshan’s jurisdiction.

Since Heshan had only recently recovered, the county treasury had little silver. But the villagers in Heshan were wealthy; every household contributed money and labor. Plus, half of the sugar workshop’s profits were used for road construction, so progress was swift.

The villagers treated road building as a matter of village pride, each village vying to outdo its neighbors. The earliest prosperous villages, Hongshan and Hongni, even tried to make their village roads wider than the official ones.

Third Master Zhu had certainly witnessed the transformation of Heshan County during his recent trip to pick up goods. Every year he visited, he was shocked anew.

“Without exaggeration, Heshan is almost comparable to a county in Jiangnan. In just one year, the streets are lined with shops, people come and go, and everything is thriving. The roads are even smoother and wider than those in the capital.”

“I want to build a road straight to Shengjing,” Meng Wan said calmly.

Third Master Zhu: “...” He thought he misheard.

“Do you know that from Xiwu Prefecture to Shengjing City is over four thousand three hundred li? It would drain almost half the national treasury, cost immense labor and resources—how can you possibly build it?” As a long-distance trader who frequently traveled between north and south, Third Master Zhu was best qualified to comment.

Meng Wan was never arrogant. He explained slowly, “I can’t do it alone, but what if thousands of merchants help me? I’ll set up commercial stations in counties and towns, hire skilled people like Fourth Master did to escort goods for merchants for a fee, and use part of the stations’ revenue to build roads.”

Third Master Zhu didn’t understand. “How is that different from escort agencies? Escort agencies are expensive; we merchants would rather form our own caravans than pay extra to hire them.”

Meng Wan slowed his pace and countered, “What if my commercial stations charge only ten percent more than their own shipping costs? Third Uncle, would they rather go to the trouble of forming their own caravan or use a ready-made service?”

Third Master Zhu was even more confused. “But... with only a ten percent markup, can you still make a profit?”

Meng Wan had Huang Ye bring paper and brush. He sketched and wrote, then explained in detail, breaking down every aspect like a master craftsman polishing jade.

First, escort agencies charge high prices for three reasons:

1. High labor costs. Most jobs are long-distance, taking at least ten days to half a month, often three to five months. Twenty to thirty escorts tied up for that long, charging by the day—that adds up.

2. High risk. When escorting goods, especially valuable ones for wealthy merchants, the chance of robbery by bandits or even death is significant. If goods are lost or damaged, large reputable agencies also have to compensate, which drives up prices.

3. Equipment, food, and lodging costs. Escorts need horses, weapons, and most importantly, food and lodging along the way, plus bribes at checkpoints. All these expenses pile up.

Third Master Zhu knew none of these costs could be avoided, which made him even more curious about how Meng Wan’s commercial stations would turn a profit.

“I plan to build commercial stations in counties and towns between Xiwu and Shengjing, like relay stations. Each station will hire staff and keep horses and carts ready.”

Meng Wan’s ink-black brush unconsciously began doodling on the paper. “If each shipment takes no more than three days, we can cut costs by at least sixty percent.”

Third Master Zhu finally understood. “You mean to transfer goods from one station to the next, like a relay?”

Meng Wan nodded.

Third Master Zhu’s eyes slowly widened. The more he thought about it, the more he felt the idea was both imaginative and well-grounded.

After a long pause, he said hoarsely, “Third Uncle wants in on this too, nephew. What do you say?”

—

With Third Master Zhu, a seasoned traveler, leading the way, Meng Wan’s plan for commercial stations gained even more traction. Building these stations was a long-term project; Meng Wan intended to build roads and stations simultaneously, pausing when funds ran low and waiting for merchants to push things forward.

The first station in Xiwu Prefecture was built near the southern city gate, managed entirely by Yu Yandong. Meng Wan dared to trust new people—a boldness that many cautious old-timers lacked. Young merchants looked up to him as a role model.

Starting in March, Meng Wan was back to working nonstop, even busier than before. Some merchants had contracted mountain orchards, while others planned to buy finished goods from the workshops and sell them in Shengjing. These merchants were signing various orders with the workshops for the first time, requiring Meng Wan, as the Master, to oversee everything. Otherwise, Tang Jinshuang, despite her competence, lacked the experience to stand up to the old foxes.

The initial establishment of several stations in Xiwu—hiring staff, buying horses, and other miscellaneous tasks—seemed trivial yet still needed Meng Wan’s attention to be safe.

But one advantage of using Yu Yandong was that his father, Yu Bi, secretly lent a hand, knowing his son was valued by Meng Wan.

While busy with substantive work, Meng Wan also tirelessly sweet-talked cooperative merchants.

“Lord Huang, if you buy shares in our commercial station, I won’t take a penny of profit from you. What’s more, you’ll become an honored guest of our Xiwu station. Every time you use our service to ship goods, I’ll give your family a two percent discount.”

“Yes, without spending a single coin, you can become a VIP!”

“But... you’ll need to make a small contribution to our station.”

“From now on, every time your goods are shipped through our station, we’ll deduct a tiny ten percent—used for road construction. The better the roads, the smoother your shipments!”

“Lord Gong, you want to become a VIP too? Excellent! This way, please. Jinshuang, register Lord Gong.”

“Manager Li, as you can see, our slots are limited. If you don’t act fast, the free spots will fill up. Later, getting a VIP card will cost you.”

Meng Wan talked until his throat was dry. He drank three pots of tea and made five trips to the latrine. By the time Song Tingzhou came to pick him up in the evening, he collapsed onto him, unable to move.

Song Tingzhou lowered the carriage curtain and adjusted his position to let Meng Wan lean more comfortably. “Rest at home tomorrow for half a day, alright?”

Meng Wan closed his eyes and hummed twice. “Can’t... I still need at least five or six more days. Once this initial frenzy passes and Jinshuang can handle things, I’ll rest at home for a few days.”

Song Tingzhou stroked his tired cheek, a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

Seeing him silent, Meng Wan rubbed against his chest. “Just a few days. When I’m done, I’ll take Mother and A Yan up the mountain to pick mushrooms.”

Song Tingzhou’s voice was gentle. “Alright, I’ll come with you.”

Meng Wan fell asleep in the carriage. Song Tingzhou carried him down when they arrived. A Yan ran over but was stopped by Chu Ci, who quickly gestured to his brother. A Yan covered his mouth and whispered, “Oh, oh, I know. I won’t disturb Father.”

Meng Wan was not present at mealtime either. Chang Jinhua set aside some food for him in the kitchen, which Song Tingzhou later picked up and brought into their room that night.

The next morning, Song Tingzhou first saw Meng Wan out of the city before returning to the government office to discuss matters with his subordinates. Though it was called a discussion, the office had essentially become Song Tingzhou's one-man show.

After a short while, Registrar Qiao led several minor officials, carrying documents and the official seal, to Zhen Guan Workshop to announce a partnership with Meng Wan's trading post. They posted a notice outside the workshop. It stated that anyone who contributed to road construction could have their name recorded at the government office. For every hundred li of road built, a stone tablet would be erected, listing names in order of contribution.

The incentive wasn't that great, but the merchants of Xiwu had already decided to seek shelter under Meng Wan's wings. Whether their names were inscribed or not, what truly tempted them was Meng Fulang's promise of a two-percent cut of the profits. The name inscription was just icing on the cake.

Nevertheless, after this move, Registrar Qiao and the minor officials could openly help lighten Meng Wan's load.

When dealing with government personnel, merchants instinctively showed a bit more deference, refraining from sly tricks or pointless questions. This saved Meng Wan some headaches, and he was not as exhausted as the day before.

After reporting to the workshop for five consecutive days, Registrar Qiao finally returned to the government office with his minor officials to report back to Song Tingzhou. Most forward-thinking merchants had already signed documents with Meng Wan, leaving only a few small vendors for Tang Jinshuang to gain experience with. At this point, Meng Wan finally had some time off.

First, he crashed for a full day and night, not caring about day or night. When he finally got up, the sky where it met the rooftops was already painted with the warm orange glow of the setting sun.

Their courtyard was quiet. Everyone was probably having dinner.

Meng Wan's whole body felt completely relaxed from sleeping so much. He didn't feel like getting out of bed, but his stomach was growling. He lay on the blanket, spacing out for a while, until he heard faint footsteps outside the door.

"Honey~"

The footsteps quickened. Song Tingzhou pushed the door open, backlit by the sun. The dim yellow sunlight softened the lines of his stern face, making him look gentler than usual.

"Awake? Are you hungry?"

Meng Wan replied weakly, "Starving. I'm starving to death~"

Song Tingzhou came in, wrung out a wet towel, and wiped his face. "What do you want to eat? Made by the cook or by your mom?"

Meng Wan tilted his head up and closed his eyes, letting him gently wipe. "What did you guys just eat?"

After wiping his face, Song Tingzhou wiped his hands. "Noodles with mushroom and pork, noodles with potato and pork, and a few side dishes."

Meng Wan swallowed. "I want the mushroom and pork noodles! Do we still have any?"

Song Tingzhou calmly replied, "I'll tell the cook to make two more bowls. Anything else? Do you want the crab appetizer from Ruyi Restaurant?"

"Yes!"

Song Tingzhou gave a faint smile and asked again, "Their salt-baked chicken is good too. Want some?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Meng Wan could hardly hold back his drool.

After about half an hour, Song Tingzhou returned from outside carrying a food container. By then, Meng Wan had moved from the bed to the couch, still looking listless, slouching and fiddling with his jade pendant.

The aroma of food made him sit up with effort. "Hurry, hurry, I feel like I could eat a whole cow!"

There was a low table on the couch. Song Tingzhou first placed the noodles and sauce on the table, then the crab appetizer and salt-baked chicken bought from the restaurant, plus a dish of pickled bamboo shoots made by Chang Jinhua.

Meng Wan took the noodles that Song Tingzhou had already mixed for him and felt he was practically being spoon-fed—like a helpless wreck.

But hunger got the better of him. He picked up a big clump of noodles and shoved it into his mouth. "Mmm, mmm... so good!"

Song Tingzhou couldn't help but smile wryly. "Eat slowly. What do you want to eat tomorrow? I'll buy it for you again."

Meng Wan alternated between noodles and crab, noodles and chicken, eating with great satisfaction.