lovenovelstory Chapter 22 The Logistics Revolution
Chapter 22 The Logistics Revolution
Four days have passed since the "Fish Market Lane Night" that shook Jinan's underworld. In these four days, Luokou Wharf seemed to have undergone a brutal yet meticulous surgical procedure. The festering, swollen, and suppurating tumor—the Weishui Gang—was completely removed…
Instead, there was a sense of order that the native inhabitants of the Ming Dynasty found both unfamiliar and awe-inspiring, even somewhat bewildering.
Before the morning mist had dissipated, a staggeringly long queue had already formed in front of the newly opened "Lu Ji Logistics Headquarters" (formerly the headquarters of the Wei Shui Gang) at the bend where the Xiaoqing River and the Grand Canal meet.
In the past, the merchants waiting to have their goods shipped would have been packed together. The brokers would sit back and drink tea like old men, only sending a few laborers to move the goods when they were in a good mood; the merchants, on the other hand, would wave their banknotes, curse and swear, and even fight over a spot to be loaded onto the ship first.
But today, the scene was eerily quiet.
There was no pushing, no cursing, and not even a loud noise.
At the very front of the line stood two rows of "security guards" dressed in gray short-sleeved shirts with red ribbons tied to their arms. They weren't carrying knives, but rather holding black-painted long sticks, their expressions stern, standing like statues. Behind them, on the wooden railing, hung a conspicuous sign: "Those who cut in line will be blacklisted and never accepted again."
The people of the Ming Dynasty had never heard of the term "blacklist," but they understood the chilling atmosphere it conveyed.
"Window A, for baggage check-in!"
"Window B, proceed with goods pickup!"
"Window C handles large transactions and claims!"
Inside the main hall, the Loyalty Hall, originally used for gathering and dividing spoils, has been transformed into a "business hall." A row of half-person-high wooden fences separates the inside from the outside, and behind the fences sit a dozen or so accountants dressed in blue cloth gowns—these are all down-on-their-luck scholars that Hu Jingshui has "found" in the refugee camp these past two days.
They no longer fiddled with abacuses and flew brushes like traditional accountants, but instead skillfully filled out and stamped specially made forms, their movements so uniform that they possessed a strange sense of rhythm.
"Logistics Revolution".
These are the four characters that Lu Yan wrote on the blackboard at the expanded high-level meeting last night.
At this moment, Lu Yan was standing on the second-floor terrace, holding a cup of strong tea, looking down at the system below that operated with the precision of a Western clock.
Standing behind him, Hu Jingshui held a thick stack of reports in her arms. Looking at the scene downstairs, her eyes were full of admiration, even a hint of fanatical worship.
"Boss, your invention of this 'tripartite form' is truly ingenious." Hu Jingshui pulled out one of the beautifully printed forms, her fingers trembling slightly. "It's a three-part form. The shipper takes the red form as proof; we keep the white form for filing and accounting; and the yellow form accompanies the shipment for handover and verification. Upon arrival at the destination, all three forms must be matched and the seals must be correct before the goods can be picked up."
"In the past few days, there hasn't been a single incident of goods being mistakenly taken, fraudulently claimed, or stolen by the staff!" Hu Jingshui exclaimed. "Compared to this, the old Weishui Gang's method of relying on memory and facial recognition is simply like eating raw meat and drinking blood."
"This is called the rule of document-based transactions," Lu Yan said calmly, without a trace of pride in his tone, as if it were just common sense. "Old Hu, you have to remember this. In logistics, documents are more important than goods. Goods are inanimate, documents are alive; they tell us where the goods are, who is in charge, and who to contact if something goes wrong."
He pointed to the men from Group A who were loading trucks in the distance.
The loading and unloading area has now been divided into standard "grids". Each type of cargo – grain, cloth, porcelain, and medicine – has a designated storage area, no longer piled up like a garbage mountain as before.
What surprised and amazed customers even more was Lu Ji's launch of an unprecedented service – "insured transportation".
"For an extra 10% in shipping fees, if the goods are lost or damaged en route, Luk Kee will provide full compensation at the original price."
This rule nearly drove wealthy merchants transporting valuable goods (such as raw silk, ginseng, and fine porcelain) mad. In those chaotic years of war, who dared to make such a promise? Not even a security escort agency! Only Lu's Company!
"Master, isn't this 'price guarantee' a bit too risky?" Fan Fu, standing on the other side, interjected with a pained expression. "Yesterday, a truckload of fine porcelain from Jingdezhen had two jars broken because of a road collapse, and we had to pay a full ten taels of silver in compensation! That's a lot of hard-earned money!"
"Good for you." Lu Yan turned around, his eyes sharp as knives. "Uncle Fan, your perspective is still too narrow. You only saw the loss of ten taels of silver, but you didn't see what those ten taels of silver bought back."
"What did you buy?"
"What we bought back was 'reputation,' a 'golden brand.'" Lu Yan walked to the railing and pointed to the porcelain merchant below who had received compensation and was kneeling on the ground kowtowing to the Lu Family brand signboard. "As long as merchants know that Lu Family 'keeps its word and is willing to compensate and take responsibility,' they will swarm over like flies to blood. At that time, that compensation won't even amount to a fraction of the profits. That's what you call—brand premium."
Just as Lu Yan had predicted, the news of the porcelain merchant caused a sensation throughout the entire business district of Jinan Prefecture. Several large Shanxi merchants who had been observing the situation signed off on their orders for 5,000 taels of goods that had been piling up for half a month, and gave them all to Lu's company that very afternoon.
In addition to upgrading external services, internal management has undergone a complete transformation.
The original refugee camp has now been officially renamed "Lu Ji Camp". All employees – whether they are the strongmen of Group A or the craftsmen of Group B – have been incorporated into a strict "performance appraisal system" (KPI).
"Base salary 300 cash, full attendance bonus 50 cash, error-free bonus 50 cash. Two cash commission for each extra trip. Ten cash deducted for each customer complaint. Three consecutive complaints, and you're fired."
This simple and direct set of rules completely activated the intrinsic motivation of the refugees.
In the past, it was "I have to do it" when it came to work; now it's "I want to do it." On the muddy roads of the dock, you can often see two men pushing wheelbarrows secretly competing, neither willing to rest, all for the red ribbon and two taels of silver awarded as "Gold Medal Laborer" at the end of the month.
Those former prisoners of the Wei Shui Gang, now in "labor reform teams," are not having such an easy time.
They were shaved bald and shackled, tasked with clearing silt from the river and filling potholes in the roads. Lu Yan did not mistreat them, giving them enough food, but set strict working hours for them—"no food until the work is finished."
Under the watchful eyes of Zhao Changying and his henchmen, with their dark gun barrels (though not yet loaded with gunpowder, their intimidating presence was enough), these three hundred-plus former thugs were forced to become the most efficient infrastructure construction team.
"Look over there." Lu Yan pointed to a group of labor camp inmates laying gravel in the distance. "Old Hu, you have to understand that civilized order is often built on barbaric discipline. These people used to be destroyers. Now, I'm going to squeeze every drop of their sweat out of them and turn it into bricks for the Lu Family Mansion."
At noon, the sun was blazing.
A lavishly decorated carriage, with its emblems deliberately removed, slowly came to a stop at the back door of the main inn.
The carriage curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged merchant with a large belly, dressed in dark-patterned silk, stepped out. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes revealed a shrewdness and mercenary nature.
He was the manager of a branch of the Fan family business in Jiexiu, Shanxi, and also Fan Yongfang, a cousin of Fan Yongdou, an old acquaintance of Lu Yan from his time in Ziyang.
"Oh my, Brother Lu! It's been a few days, and you've really changed a lot!" Fan Yongfang exclaimed as he entered, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at the well-organized warehouse. "I've never seen anything this efficient back in my hometown in Shanxi! Have you applied the Mohist art of mechanical engineering to your business?"
"Brother Fan, you flatter me." Lu Yan greeted him with a cupped hand and a smile. "It's just a few trivial tricks, meant to speed up the shipment and save you some trouble. Please come in."
The two entered the secret room and dismissed everyone else.
Fan Yongfang stopped smiling, lowered her voice, and pulled a crumpled sheet from her sleeve, pushing it in front of Lu Yan.
"Brother, you've come with a big deal this time. The war in Liaodong is intense. Although the imperial court has sealed off the passes, the 'demand' there is only getting bigger," Fan Yongfang said meaningfully. "What's listed here is a batch of top-quality wrought iron and five hundred catties of saltpeter. This stuff... the government is cracking down hard, and other cart companies don't dare to take it, nor do they have the ability to transport it."
Lu Yan glanced at the list, his pupils shrinking slightly.
Wrought iron and saltpeter. These are raw materials for arms. The Fan family was indeed smuggling supplies to the Later Jin (which was not yet called the Qing Dynasty). This was the original sin that led to the rise of Shanxi merchants.
"Brother Fan, this is a business that could cost you your head." Lu Yan picked up his teacup, gently blew away the foam, and said calmly, "If the agents of the Eastern Depot find out, your entire family will be executed."
"Fortune favors the bold," Fan Yongfang leaned closer, his voice even lower. "I know you're resourceful, brother. This Luokou Wharf is your domain now. As long as you agree, it's a convenient route. Price is negotiable; I'll triple the freight! And..."
Fan Yongfang paused, then offered Lu Yan an irresistible lure: "I heard you've been recruiting blacksmiths lately and tinkering with 'that stuff' (referring to firearms). If this batch of goods is successful, I can give you 10% of the 500 catties of saltpeter. In addition, I can help you get some high-quality Fujian iron from Taiyuan—it's an excellent material for making musket barrels."
Lu Yan's heart skipped a beat.
Zhao Tie's side is currently stuck on a bottleneck. Ordinary iron barrels are prone to bursting, and spring steel is nowhere to be found. If only they had Fujian iron and enough saltpeter…
"Twenty percent." Lu Yan put down his teacup and held up two fingers. "I want twenty percent of the saltpeter. I want a thousand catties of Fujian iron. I won't increase the shipping cost, but this batch of goods cannot be accounted for openly."
"Twenty percent?" Fan Yongfang gritted his teeth, seemingly weighing the options, before finally slapping his thigh. "Deal! Brother Lu is indeed a straightforward man! But this matter..."
"Heaven knows, earth knows, you know, and I know." A cold glint flashed in Lu Yan's eyes. "Old Hu, issue Brother Fan a 'special logistics order,' take it by night, leave no record, and have Changying personally escort it."
After seeing Fan Yongfang off, Lu Yan stood by the window, watching the carriage disappear into the dust.
"Master," Hu Jingshui appeared behind him unnoticed, her face filled with worry, "this is treason! What if..."
"Colluding with the enemy?" Lu Yan sneered, turning to look at the map of the Ming Dynasty. "Old Hu, you need to understand. The Fan family is colluding with the enemy, while we... are engaged in 'primitive technological accumulation.' Without this iron and saltpeter, the firewood sticks in our hands will never become guns. In this chaotic world, having a gun is what makes you right."