Chapter Twelve: Background

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“Boss, we’ve already found out some things. Chen Guangliang has indeed established a rickshaw business, owning a total of three rickshaws!”

Wang Chengyun was astonished beyond belief—buying three rickshaws in one go was quite a bold move.

“Are they all unlicensed vehicles?”

His subordinate shook his head and said, “All of them have ‘official permits.’ I heard Chen Guangliang earned the favor of someone from the Transportation Department of the Public Works Ministry. He even received sponsorship from a university professor, so they set up the rickshaw business together.”

Wang Chengyun suddenly stood up in surprise, unable to believe it: “The Transportation Department has a stake? And a professor is funding him?”

“Yes. Without their support, they wouldn’t have been able to get the licenses. Besides, their rickshaws are well maintained—they operate around the clock in shifts with no breaks—so we have no chance to steal them.”

Wang Chengyun waved his hand and said, “Don’t rush to act yet. Things are getting complicated.”

Since they have connections, it wouldn’t do to make a reckless move.

The Transportation Department is precisely the authority that oversees their industry!

If they offend someone from the Transportation Department, even just an ordinary employee, the Wang family’s rickshaw business could face serious trouble.

Unless something even more underhanded comes into play.

His subordinate nodded and said, “It’s indeed hard to make a move. Their three rickshaws run twenty-four hours a day on the roads—there’s practically nowhere for them to park.”

Wang Chengyun had to swallow his frustration for the moment.

Though the concession was a mixed bag, it still maintained a certain order.

Rickshaw businesses usually dealt with ordinary rickshaw pullers by stealing their vehicles and colluding with patrol officers to suppress them.

But now, since Chen Guangliang himself has set up a rickshaw business, he’s no longer an easy target.

...

After his shift, Chen Guangliang went to his second uncle’s house for dinner.

He still handed his living expenses over to his cousin and didn’t have to cook.

Unfortunately, recently his cousin Yang Xiuying had not been very friendly. Upon seeing him, she snorted coldly and rudely placed the dishes in front of him.

“You little brat, your mind’s always busy with something.”

Chen Guangliang ate his delicious meal without forgetting to lecture the cook.

Yang Xiuying’s appearance was indeed not to Chen Guangliang’s taste, and she was illiterate to boot. There was no way they could be together.

“It’s better than you becoming a boss and then turning your back on us!”

Yang Xiuying sat opposite Chen Guangliang, puffing up her cheeks and flicking her fingers in irritation.

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Chen Guangliang smiled and said, “I’m not turning my back on anyone. Your father, my second uncle, is actually my partner now. Once we make some money, you’ll be able to move into one of those houses and live well.”

Hearing this, Yang Xiuying was instantly thrilled: “Really? We can move into those houses?”

What they lived in couldn’t be called houses—it was more like shacks.

Residences in Shanghai could generally be divided into four classes:

First class: standalone Western-style villas. Those who lived in these often had private cars, drivers, servants, and the owners were usually wealthy merchants or nobility.

Second class: apartments. Renting one wasn’t easy; it usually required a hefty deposit of around four to five hundred silver dollars plus a monthly rent exceeding one hundred. Writers like Lu Xun and Xu Zhimo lived in apartments like these.

Third class: ‘tingzi-jian’ rooms. These were the poorest rooms in the popular Shikumen houses that sprang up in Shanghai at the time. These rooms were located above the kitchen area and below the balcony, about two meters high, six to seven square meters in size, facing north. They were mostly used for storage or as servants’ quarters. Many struggling literary figures, like Guo Moruo, first settled in such rooms upon arriving in Shanghai. Hence, there emerged a term: ‘tingzi-jian literati.’

Fourth class: shantytowns. Shantytowns varied in quality, but those in places like Fanguan Lane were undoubtedly the worst in Shanghai.

“There’s always a chance. Things are already getting better!”

Yang Xiuying was delighted, feeling that her cousin was a very capable person.

“Liang, I’ve been with you for a week now. How do you think I’ve done?” Lin Feng placed two pears on the table and asked with hopeful eyes.

Chen Guangliang finished chewing his food before answering, “Hmm, you’re ready to go solo. Tomorrow, you’ll take the daytime shift from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. We’ll rotate shifts every ten days. How does that sound?”

This past week, he and He Xiangdong had been working twelve-hour shifts.

He was fine with it; sometimes he just handed the rickshaw over to Lin Feng to pull for an hour or two.

But He Xiangdong pulled for twelve straight hours. Though he was very energetic, it was exhausting.

In reality, though rickshaw pullers worked ten hours a day, they rarely had passengers for more than four or five hours.

Even so, it was still tiring.

Lin Feng happily said, “Great! Thanks, Liang!”

Chen Guangliang immediately laid out the plan: “Ah Feng, remember what I say and work hard. Save some money. When we buy new rickshaws later, you can invest and become a shareholder. That’s how you’ll make money and afford a wife.”

With just those two simple sentences, Lin Feng was practically ready to kowtow in gratitude.

“I’ll listen to you, Liang. If you tell me to go east, I won’t go west.”

Chen Guangliang nodded. These men were his ‘influence.’ Compared to other capitalists, he knew better how to win people’s loyalty.

He could treat one rickshaw as a ‘ship’ and invite pullers to become shareholders.

In other words, if the Yangtze River Rickshaw Company formally registered as a corporation, each rickshaw would be ‘independent.’ Some of the ten rickshaws might be owned by a few shareholders, while others would have different shareholders.

“Manager Chen, can I join your rickshaw business as a puller?”

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A young acquaintance approached Chen Guangliang.

“Brother Shan, of course you can. But this line of work has its tricks. First, you should spend some spare time familiarizing yourself with the concession’s roads and buildings. When you’re ready, then quit your job so you don’t waste time.”

“Got it! Thanks, Manager Chen!”

“Just call me Liang.”

“That won’t do—you’re a boss now!”

Chen Guangliang waved his hand. He indeed had become a local celebrity, with many people viewing him as an ‘idol.’

Some even hoped he would find them jobs. Chen Guangliang rarely refused but asked them to prepare first. When positions opened up, he’d give them priority.

The Yangtze River Rickshaw Company would never settle for just three rickshaws.

With Li Chao as a powerful partner, expansion would be rapid. Even unlicensed rickshaws could be made ‘flawless.’

“Cousin, you’re really impressive now!”

“Go wash the dishes.”

“Hmph.”

Though Yang Xiuying was displeased with Chen Guangliang’s attitude, she quickly brought a cup of hot water and placed it in front of him.

Chen Guangliang sat at the table outside his second uncle’s house, took out paper and pen, and began organizing the business’s affairs.

At present, the Yangtze River Rickshaw Company’s monthly net profit was just over eighty silver dollars, with the unlicensed rickshaw greatly boosting efficiency.

By late June, the company could buy another unlicensed rickshaw. With Li Chao’s help in procuring fake permits, the risk was minimal.

Still, Chen Guangliang was not satisfied with this pace of growth.

After all, as a modern man, he needed to fully leverage the principle of ‘leverage.’

The idea of ‘doing as much as you have money for’ was absolutely unacceptable.

“If only we could get a bank loan!”

“The pullers themselves could also pool more funds.”