Chapter 43: Cooperation Model

Cao Chuan chuckled, waving a hand. "We're all brothers here, and we'll be working together on great things in the future — there's no need to keep certain secrets from you any longer. It's just that the reasons behind it all are a long story, so bear with me while I explain in detail."

He lifted his tea bowl for a sip, spent a moment recalling the "outline" certain people had written for him, then slowly began his tale: "You may not know this, but when I first settled here in Hangzhou, I originally intended to keep a low profile and avoid trouble."

At this point, his tone grew heavy: "Who could have guessed that in this Hangzhou City, famed as a great metropolis of Jiangnan, the streets would be littered with corpses of the starved, corrupt officials running rampant everywhere — seemingly flourishing and splendid, yet in truth rotten beyond measure. Heh, the painted scenes of Hangzhou I saw back in the Sect were nothing like this decay."

Cao Chuan paused briefly, then continued: "When I observed the atmosphere that night, it was just as I expected — this whole region of Hangzhou was already seething with violent energy, hidden currents of slaughter stirring, the Great Ming's Dragon Qi showing signs of instability. Ah, if even the foremost virtuous land of Jiangnan has fallen to such a state, I imagine the other prefectures and counties under this Ming Dynasty's rule are likely no better."

"When this humble Daoist witnessed such an ill omen that day, I dared not delay, and immediately reported the matter to the Sect. You may not know this, but when disciples of our generation descend the mountain to travel the world, we bear a duty to 'Observe the Winds.'"

"The one currently overseeing all mundane affairs below at Shangqing Palace in West Kunlun is Wujie Yuanjun." At this, Cao Chuan clasped both hands and made a perfunctory bow toward some random direction. The two acting as his foils promptly followed suit. Zhou Tong and his two companions, thoroughly engrossed in the story, saw this display and hurriedly joined in, bowing haphazardly at the empty air.

After that flurry of activity, Storyteller Cao resumed his tale: "As it happened, this Wujie Yuanjun was precisely one who ascended from this very realm three thousand years ago — an ancestor of us Han people, you might say. Upon receiving my report, the Primordial Lord casually cast a divination and discovered that within this Ming Dynasty, there are unprincipled rulers and ministers, while outside, foreign races lie in wait. If the roots are not purified and the source set right in time, the Dragon Qi of the Han people may well be seized by evil demons from beyond the realm, not to return for three hundred years!"

He paused briefly to let Zhou Tong and the others digest this, then sighed and continued: "Upon perceiving this, the Primordial Lord immediately issued a decree, commanding me to throw myself into the tribulation, to found a new dynasty, to reform the very earth, to contend with those foreign demons, and to safeguard the Han people's Dragon Qi from falling. Furthermore, the Primordial Lord selected a group of civil and military talents, sending them down the mountain to assist me — these two here are among them."

Having finally, with great effort, performed the entire script according to the outline, Storyteller Cao let out a long breath, lifted his tea bowl and gulped down two mouthfuls, then said to Zhou Tong, who was still lost in reflection: "There you have the causes and effects in full."

Zhou Tong jolted awake from his deep thought: "Oh, may I ask when you plan to rise up, sir? And isn't what you just said a bit... hasty?"

Cao Chuan laughed heartily: "The Primordial Lord's divination spoke thus: When dragons and serpents stir upon the land, advantage lies in the southeast. Whenever a great change is about to come, there are always omens: first, natural and man-made disasters as warnings; then, armed uprisings breaking out everywhere; after that, there must always be some petty kings blazing the trail — only after eight or ten years of turmoil can one truly contend for the throne. For now, we naturally follow the Primordial Lord's divination and lie low in the southeast. Hmm, we already have a place for that — if the brothers of Pingfeng Stronghold are willing to share this enterprise with Cao, we can discuss the details later."

Hearing this, Zhou Tong knew the moment to show his cards had arrived. If he wanted to stake his life on a future under the great immortal Cao, what he'd be wagering in return were the lives of several hundred souls in Pingfeng Stronghold. Zhou Tong turned his head, exchanged glances with Chen and Chu, and for a moment his heart was a tangled mess, utterly at a loss for which path to take.

In the end, Zhou Tong only lingered at Tangzhuang for three days before hurrying back to the mountain. There was much to do upon his return: shrink back his power base, spread the word and rally support, sell off movable and immovable assets, and so on, and so forth.

Since they were going to follow Emperor Cao in conquering the realm, he had to go back and take stock of the family possessions. In the storytelling tales, didn't those who pledged themselves to a lord always first sell off their family property, then recruit the young men of their village to join the righteous cause?

That said, if a power base wielding a great killer weapon, lacking no silver, and supported by all manner of "soldiers and generals" wasn't worth the brothers staking everything on, then Pingfeng Stronghold's standing in the bandit world was simply too low. And clearly, Zhou Tong and his men were not that kind of people.

Of course, a joint venture was one thing, but some things still needed to be made clear in advance. On this point, Zhou Tong made his own efforts, and by the time he headed back to the mountain, Fort Master Zhou believed he had done right by the old men, women, and children back in the stronghold.

During the days he remained at Tangzhuang, Zhou Tong held multiple rounds of talks with Xia Xianze and the others. The talks yielded results satisfactory to both sides: the transmigrators happily supported Zhou Tong's idea of establishing an independently accounted "Mountain Stronghold Labor Export Company," and tacitly agreed that the original leadership team would remain unchanged and the existing power structure unshaken. To put it simply: a standard Edo joint-venture process, based on Ming people's understanding, had been set in motion for the first time.

This method of partnership has a famous formulation by Comrade Erlang Shen: Listen to Orders, Not Summons. Also known as: the Guanjiangkou Model.

Of course, perhaps one day in the future, when a decrepit old Fort Master Zhou sits in a CPPCC office and reads in the historical records: "Zhou began limited cooperation with the Organization in 1627," he might be overcome with emotion, filled with remorse and regret. Yet, one cannot blame him — in this era, no one could possibly imagine what kind of upheaval Cao Chuan and his people would bring.

The transmigrators, for their part, were quite satisfied with the agreement reached between the two sides. It fit their contingency plan perfectly — for a dozen or so people to forcibly try to lead a group of "mountain folk" with a stable organizational structure would only cause internal friction. At this stage, a cooperation akin to a mercenary arrangement was ideal.

As for a certain someone thus missing out on the title of "Veteran Revolutionary and Early Transmigrator-Regime Leader," everyone could only chuckle wryly — if you lack the guts to bet every last copper coin, don't complain about earning less when the dice come up triple sixes.

One month later, on an afternoon in June of the Western year 1627, outside Hangzhou City, in the rear garden of Tangzhuang, a dozen or so transmigrators were holding a meeting in a building with bright windows and spotless interiors.

Under what could be called a generously handled project payment schedule, the Ming craftsmen did not disappoint their employers. After nearly two months of overtime work, all four planned construction projects at Tangzhuang had been completed.

The rear garden was now officially called "Company Headquarters," though privately, a certain group self-deprecatingly referred to it as the "Idiot Human Forwarding Center" — every so often, some transmigrator, dazed and confused like an idiot, would be dragged out of a sealed box.

The once desolate rear garden now featured things that should have been impossible in this era: four angular, two-story rectangular buildings common in later generations had been erected. Two of them already had large glass windows installed in their greenstone masonry walls. The cement floor slabs were laid by the group themselves. As for the other two buildings, given how precious steel bars and cement were at the moment, they had to make do with wooden beams and pillars for now.