Beiyang Dream

Chapter 35 If you've already deceived the emperor, why fear smuggled weapons?

Zhang Zhensheng nodded, then turned back to Chang Desheng and smiled, "Lord Chang, you've really helped Jingrou and me a lot this time." He then said to Luo Jingrou, "Jingrou, aren't you going to thank them?"

Luo Jingrou clasped her hands in a respectful bow, looking just like a female knight-errant: "Thank you, Mr. Chang."

"You're welcome, you're welcome." Chang Desheng waved his hand, but in his heart he was already looking forward to it: Hurry up and bring some silver paper to throw at me!

Sure enough, Zhang Zhensheng pulled out a thick envelope from his pocket and handed it over with a smile: "It's just a small token of my appreciation, Lord Chang, please don't find it offensive."

Chang Desheng didn't stand on ceremony and took it to weigh it in his hand.

The thickness, the weight... he estimated there must be at least five hundred marks inside, no, at least eight hundred marks.

When I got back and opened it, wow, it was pounds!

Thirty neatly arranged ten-pound notes—three hundred pounds, equivalent to six thousand marks!

This is incredible... it's enough to knock someone out!

At this moment, Chang Desheng put the envelope into his pocket with such natural ease that he looked every bit the corrupt official of the Qing Dynasty.

Seeing his straightforwardness, Luo Jingrou's smile became even brighter.

A capable, well-connected, greedy, and willing to get things done—that's a perfect corrupt official in the Qing Dynasty!

Chang Desheng was now wondering if he should talk to Luo Jingrou about German tutoring. This rich girl was practically throwing money at him…

As he was thinking, Luo Jingrou suddenly asked, "Mr. Chang, what exactly is the job of this committee member investigating the German Army Corps? What exactly are you investigating?"

Chang Desheng casually replied, "Military system, military academy, training, weaponry... we examine everything."

Zhang Zhensheng seemed suddenly intrigued, leaning forward slightly: "The Beiyang government's procurement of German arms—even Lord Chang has influence over that?"

"Of course!" Chang Desheng patted his chest. "To be honest, besides studying, I have another job in Germany—to find new weapons for the Beiyang Army. I have to visit Krupp, Mauser, Rheinmetall, and all those factories."

As he said this, his eyes darted around.

Is the Zhang family interested in the arms trade?

Just right.

He already has a ready-made arms project, the mortar he's working on with that German engineer Schneider.

That thing is still in the trial production stage in Essen, and we don't know if it's successful yet. But even if it is, it will be difficult to get Krupp to invest in it; big companies don't care about such small gadgets.

Or... how about we trick the Zhang family into investing some money?

Thinking of this, Chang Desheng tentatively asked, "Is the Zhang family interested in getting involved in arms dealing?"

Guo Shigui, standing to the side, was startled. He turned to look at him, his eyes seeming to say: Arms... are they something that can be bought and sold so casually? If the imperial court finds out, you'll lose your head!

Zhang Zhensheng laughed.

"Yes, Lord Chang! Do you have any connections?"

"Yes!" Chang Desheng slapped his thigh. "There's a business opportunity right now: manufacturing small steel cannons."

Zhang Zhensheng and Luo Jingrou were both stunned.

"Build... a cannon?"

They originally intended to use the Beiyang government as a pretext to engage in some middleman business of purchasing firearms and ammunition—for example, acting as intermediaries to buy five thousand Mauser rifles and five hundred thousand rounds of ammunition from Germany and ship them to the Qing Dynasty. If they encountered "strong winds" or "high waves" on the way, they might accidentally "lose" a third of the weapons. Of course, the Zhang and Luo families would compensate for the losses, and the officials in charge would also receive a red envelope (bribe).

As for where the lost weapons went? Don't ask, they went to the Dragon King of the South China Sea.

Cannons can be built...

Zhang Zhensheng frowned, tapping his fingers lightly on the coffee table: "This cannon... I'm afraid it won't be easy to manufacture."

"Easy!" Chang Desheng said confidently. "This kind of cannon isn't difficult to manufacture. It's an ultralight small cannon recently designed by Krupp, specifically for mountain and trench warfare. It's just..."

He paused deliberately.

"Is that so?"

"The profit margin isn't very high," Chang Desheng sighed, feigning a troubled expression. "If we sell this stuff to the major powers, they won't be interested; if we sell it to small countries, the volume won't be enough. We might lose money for the first few years."

As soon as he said that, Zhang Zhensheng and Luo Jingrou's eyes lit up.

They're not afraid of losing money!

And you won't lose money at all.

There are plenty of wealthy Chinese businessmen in Southeast Asia, and they frequently engage in anti-Chinese activities. Who wouldn't want to get some guns and hire a group of bodyguards? If they had cannons... even small cannons, they'd still be cannons! One shot would scare those natives half to death!

Seeing that Zhang Zhensheng was interested, Chang Desheng said to Luo Jingrou, "Miss Luo, may I borrow your paper and pen? I'll draw something for your fifth uncle to see."

Luo Jingrou quickly asked a servant to bring paper and pen.

Chang Desheng didn't stand on ceremony. He spread out a piece of paper, took a pencil, and quickly sketched a draft.

"This is called a mortar," he said, pointing to the diagram as if explaining construction drawings. "The principle is simple: a barrel, a base, a support, and a base plate. The shell is put in through the muzzle, slides down the barrel to the bottom, the firing pin hits the primer, and bang—it's out."

Zhang Zhensheng leaned over to take a closer look, examining it very carefully.

"Range?"

"It depends on the caliber. The smaller ones can fire two li (approximately 1 kilometer), while the larger ones can fire four or five li (approximately 2.5-3 kilometers)."

"How heavy is it?"

"The lighter ones weigh a few dozen kilograms, which two people can carry and run. The heavier ones weigh only about a hundred kilograms, which can be disassembled and carried by mules and horses."

"Cost?"

Chang Desheng quickly did some mental calculations.

Schneider's initial quote put the cost at around 500 marks per cannon. With mass production, that could be reduced to 400. They could sell it to the Beiyang Fleet for 800. Anyway, it's much cheaper than Krupp's 75mm field guns. Those cost 20,000 marks each, and the Beiyang Fleet couldn't afford many.

"The cost is about four or five hundred marks," he said, giving a concrete figure. "If I sell it to Beiyang, I can get eight hundred. I make three hundred on each sale."

Zhang Zhensheng didn't speak, but tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

Chang Desheng thought he was doing the math. Earning 300 marks per product, selling 100 products a year would be 30,000 marks, which was indeed not much... This was still the gross profit. After deducting all sorts of miscellaneous costs, he might actually lose money.

But Zhang Zhensheng wasn't calculating that.

He was calculating something else entirely.

He didn't respond to Chang Desheng immediately, but instead turned slightly and asked Luo Jingrou beside him in Hakka, "Arou, what's your opinion?"

Luo Jingrou's gaze shifted from the sketch to Chang Desheng's face, then back to her fifth uncle's face. She answered softly and quickly in Hakka, "Fifth Uncle, he's right. Making only this kind of cannon has a short range and is cheap; the Beiyang Fleet can only buy a limited number, and the foreign powers aren't interested. If we go through the proper channels, we'll definitely lose money for a few years. Otherwise, how would I be able to pick it up?"

Zhang Zhensheng nodded, his fingers stopping tapping: "Will you do it or not?"

Luo Jingrou barely hesitated, leaning forward slightly and lowering her voice even further: "Do it! Make it hard! Use the factory's name to seize the Beiyang trade line. The cannons are just a pretext, a stepping stone."

Zhang Zhensheng listened and nodded approvingly. When he turned back to face Chang Desheng, he had put on a friendly and prosperous smile.

Chang Desheng thought to himself, in sync with the rhythm: They're about to set a price.

Sure enough, Zhang Zhensheng soon began with a smile: "Lord Chang, if we're going to do this, we need to establish rules. Only with proper rules can the business last."

Chang Desheng nodded: "Please go ahead."

"I'll provide the capital," Zhang Zhensheng said, holding up one finger. "I'll take 51%."

51%, or 51%, means controlling stake.

Chang Desheng's heart skipped a beat—this old guy wanted to be the major shareholder and have the final say. But he didn't show it on his face, just grunted and waited for what was to come.

"The remaining 49 percent," Zhang Zhensheng continued, gesturing a circle in the air with his finger, "is up to you, Lord Chang. You can bring in whomever you have connections in the court or the military. This 49 percent share is entirely up to you."

That's a well-said statement.

Chang Desheng's mind worked incredibly fast. He would distribute the 49% of the shares—this was the capital to curry favor with others. Whom to bring in, and how much to give, was entirely up to him. This was tantamount to binding all the powerful figures in the Beiyang clique who wanted to profit but dared not openly do so to this boat.

High, really high.

"However," Zhang Zhensheng changed the subject, lowering his voice, "I can't openly hold 50%. I have to find a foreigner to hold it on my behalf—a German or a Swiss would do. On the surface, this company is a foreign business, and has nothing to do with us Chinese businessmen."

Chang Desheng understood. A white glove. In case something goes wrong in the future, the foreigners will take the blame, and the Zhang family won't be implicated.

"Daily operations," Zhang Zhensheng continued, his tone softening as if chatting casually, "I'll send the manager to handle it. Lord Chang, you're busy with official duties, and Lord Guo also has his own tasks to attend to, so you two won't have to worry about these trivial matters. You two just need to—take the money."

When he said the words "take the money," he paused deliberately, looked at Chang Desheng, and then at Guo Shigui.

Guo Shigui's throat moved, but he didn't say anything.

"How do we take it?" Chang Desheng asked.

"Directors," Zhang Zhensheng uttered, then smiled. "Both of you are directors of the company. You receive a monthly salary of one thousand marks, plus a year-end bonus."

One thousand marks.

Chang Desheng quickly did the math in his mind. One thousand marks, equivalent to two hundred taels of silver, and that's just for one month! That's two thousand four hundred taels a year... Even if the year-end bonus is just a pie in the sky, the benefits that Fifth Master is offering are already more than enough.

Guo Shigui's breathing became noticeably heavier. Chang Desheng glanced over out of the corner of his eye and saw that Guo's face was turning slightly red; he was tempted, but also afraid.

Chang Desheng himself was also pondering it.

This is not a simple matter.

Zhang Zhensheng invested so much money just to do a "not-very-profitable" mortar business? Nobody believes that. That old bastard definitely has other plans behind him. He probably wants to use this company as a front, using arms dealing with the Beiyang Army as a cover to smuggle arms into Southeast Asia.

But Chang Desheng wasn't afraid. He was only worried about not being able to hook up with this big Southeast Asian tycoon who was unwilling to be a fat sheep for foreigners and locals.

As for Guo Shigui...

Chang Desheng glanced at Lao Guo. This guy's even gone so far as to deceive the emperor, what's there to be afraid of with smuggled arms? It's just a matter of how much money it takes to knock him out!

Just then, Zhang Zhensheng smiled.

While laughing, he reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope, and stuffed it directly into Guo Shigui's hand.

"Lord Guo," Zhang Zhensheng said with a smile, his tone as warm as if he were speaking to a close brother, "this is just a small token, please accept it and have some tea. In the future, I'll need your help with the company's affairs."