Chapter 325: One Can’t Keep Shearing the Same Sheep Indefinitely
Wen Xiuyi didn’t believe he possessed divine capabilities. Even back at the Academy of Agricultural Sciences, research had relied on the collective efforts of a whole team. Although this world lacked the advanced modern technology and talent of his past life, one could by no means underestimate the wisdom of the ancients.
He felt he could no longer work completely in isolation; he had to find talent in this field to work alongside him.
At this thought, Wen Xiuyi asked Old Man Wen once more, “Dad, is there anyone in our village who is particularly gifted at farming? The kind who excels at noticing issues, and whose crops always turn out better than everyone else’s?”
Old Man Wen blurted out without a second thought, “You.”
In truth, it was only over these past two years that Wen Xiuyi had revealed a talent for agriculture. Otherwise, Old Man Wen felt that every household was roughly the same, and their yields were largely indistinguishable. If one asked about someone exceptionally good, there was none, but there were certainly those who performed terribly.
Old Madam Luo slapped Old Man Wen squarely on the back: “Your son is asking about other people! What ‘you’?”
Old Man Wen squirmed his shoulders—this old woman’s strength was certainly growing lately! Even so, he replied, “Everyone is about the same. I haven’t seen anyone whose land is particularly outstanding, or else we wouldn’t have lived like this all these years.”
A tinge of disappointment flickered across Wen Xiuyi’s face: “Oh, is that so? Never mind then.”
“What’s wrong?” Old Man Wen asked upon seeing his reaction.
Wen Xiuyi explained his thoughts.
Old Man Wen furrowed his brows and nodded in deep agreement: “This isn’t your burden alone, Eldest Son. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ve lived through all these years just like this. What you’ve done now has already changed so much, so there’s no need to be in such a rush. Don’t break your own health from overwork.”
“I know, Dad.”
If there was no one in the village, he could only start looking elsewhere.
The very next day, Wen Xiuyi mentioned to Magistrate Chen that he wanted to establish a team dedicated specifically to researching rice, applying to Magistrate Chen for funds and a broad recruitment of talent.
After all, research required money—no matter the era. Furthermore, if one recruited people, they had to be paid a wage; one couldn’t expect them to work for free.
By now, Magistrate Chen was long accustomed to the wild, unrestrained ideas inside Wen Xiuyi’s head. Hearing him bring this up again, Magistrate Chen laughed despite himself.
“Do you know that our yamen is almost out of money? After setting up the production teams, every village received funds to issue unified farm tools. Then two days ago, you said the wasteland reclamation was falling behind, so another sum was allocated to buy a dozen oxen from Old Jin to give one to each village. Before a single cent of tax has even been collected, money has been flying straight out the door!
“No money left! No money, truly! If you want, write a memorial to His Majesty yourself and see if you can squeeze some funds out of the Ministry of Revenue.”
It was almost funny to speak of. They had looked forward to His Majesty’s imperial decree as if waiting for the stars and the moon, but it merely granted him and Wen Xiuyi authority, allowing them to act boldly. If successful, it would be promoted nationwide in the future; if the results were lacking, the production team model would end right here in Yunwu Town.
Calling it an imperial decree, it truly consisted of nothing more than the decree itself.
Magistrate Chen had actually written a memorial requesting funds, but to this day he hadn’t received a response—it had likely sunk like a stone into the ocean.
He knew those people in the Ministry of Revenue all too well. They were absolute experts at crying poverty, and when it came to uncertain ventures like theirs, they would drag their feet even more. Even if an approval eventually came down, there was no telling how much actual money would reach their hands.
What Magistrate Chen didn’t tell Wen Xiuyi was that officialdom wasn’t as simple as their farming. Where there were supporters, there were bound to be opponents; plenty of people ran counter to His Majesty’s wishes. Now that His Majesty’s imperial decree was issued, the two of them could act boldly without those people being able to stop them.
However, if they asked for money, those opponents would surely take the opportunity to step forward and obstruct them.
Magistrate Chen broke down the complex web of interests and explained it thoroughly to Wen Xiuyi.
Wen Xiuyi knitted his brows: “Then that’s indeed tricky.” He had simplified things in his mind.
Magistrate Chen stroked his chin and said, “This shouldn’t require too much money, right? How about we go ask Old Lu? The prefectural city has money—far richer than us. The prefectural city is vast, and its tax revenue is high.”
Magistrate Chen raised an eyebrow—one couldn’t keep shearing the same sheep indefinitely, after all.
While the two were over on their end discussing how to shear Lu Ning’s wool, Qiu Rongrong and Wen Yao were fretting on the other end as well.
What they were fretting about, however, was how this money should be spent.
Business at Zui Xian Tower was as roaring as ever, generating several thousand taels in monthly profit alone.
A few copycat shops for the roast duck and milk tea had opened in town as well, but their business lagged far behind theirs. Monthly profits—including the two shops at the docks—could reach over ten thousand taels. Even split evenly between Wen Yao and Qiu Rongrong, each had an income of four to five thousand taels.
This didn’t even account for the income from the several shops opened by the Qiu family in Jiangnan, where business was even more booming. Eldest Brother Qiu hadn’t mistreated the two younger sisters either; he kept half of the profit share for himself and handed the other half to them to divide, bringing another ten thousand taels of silver into their hands each month.
Although Li Yi hadn’t sent the money over yet, his letter to Wen Yao outlined the approximate profits in the capital. According to their initial agreement—where Li Yi took forty percent while Wen Yao and Qiu Rongrong took thirty percent each—Wen Yao alone could be allocated over six thousand taels of silver for the very first month, showing the sheer profitability of the capital.
Furthermore, these were net profits—pure profit after deducting all costs for storefronts, labor, and raw materials.
Yet no one ever complained about having too much silver. Now that their existing businesses were stable, Qiu Rongrong’s urge to make money could no longer be restrained.
Having Wen Yao put the silver banknotes away safely, Qiu Rongrong took her hand and said:
“Now that the shops are all stable, I think we should consider expanding our business. I plan to open another Zui Xian Tower, a roast duck shop, and a milk tea shop in the prefectural city. Little Sister, do you have any other ideas? Let’s think about what else we can do.”
Wen Yao rarely worried about business operations; she merely offered ideas and preferred not to manage the rest. Truthfully, holding such a large share of the profits made her a little embarrassed—after all, others did all the heavy lifting while she sat back as a hands-off boss collecting money. Saying it aloud felt almost embarrassing.
So when Qiu Rongrong brought this up, Wen Yao’s interest was sparked instantly.
“Sounds great! If we open shops in the prefectural city, we can set up a workshop right over there to make the salted duck eggs and century eggs directly. That will save us from having to dispatch people to the prefectural city every half-month to haul duck eggs,” Wen Yao said.
Qiu Rongrong smiled and gave her head a gentle tap, saying, “Eldest Brother wrote in his letter saying that the salted duck eggs and century eggs sell exceptionally well in Jiangnan, and he wants us to make more to send over in the future. Ships traveling back and forth to Jiangnan at the docks are much more frequent now too, making transport convenient. What do you think?”
Although the profit margin on salted duck eggs and century eggs wasn’t as high as that of the restaurant or the roast duck shop, a mosquito leg was still meat. Wen Yao naturally wouldn’t turn it down, agreeing on the spot.
After consulting for a moment, the two decided to pick a day to visit the prefectural city and see if there were any suitable storefronts.
