Chapter 34
When Cui Wen returned home, he felt completely empty.
It was as if all the blood had been drained and replaced with cold lead.
He entered the study, and was greeted by his daughter's familiar, dry scent, a mixture of fresh ink and old books. For the first time today, this smell felt almost pungent and unfamiliar to him.
He slumped in the chair, too weak to even lift a finger.
Every face, every glance, every breath in the Taiji Hall was still replaying in his mind repeatedly, frantically, and silently. Zhang Ge's spittle, the Second Prince's cold laugh, the glint of a blade beneath the Crown Prince's gentle mask, Tang Pu's reckless impulsiveness, and that person on the dragon throne... that person's unfathomable eyes, revealing neither joy nor anger.
Like a nightmare.
It was a nightmare where he botched his performance but was inexplicably judged to have "passed".
"father."
Cui Yunshu's voice pulled him out of that sticky, suffocating memory.
He looked up at his daughter.
She sat there under the lamp, holding a cup of now-cold tea, her face completely expressionless. There was no joy, no excitement, not even the slightest hint of relief at surviving such a close call.
Calm as a ghost.
"I know everything that's happening in the court."
Madam Song also came out of the inner room. Her eyes were still red, but the despair on her face was gone. Instead, there was a complex expression mixed with worry, confusion, and a faint hope.
Cui Wen opened his mouth, wanting to tell her about the thrilling events that had taken place in the court that day, to tell her how they had danced on the edge of a knife, and how they had luckily avoided falling.
But when the words reached his lips, they turned into a dry, off-key hissing sound.
"It's done..." He managed to squeeze out only these two words at the end, "The deliberation group... has been established. The Crown Prince is leading it..."
He couldn't continue.
So what if it succeeds?
That only delayed the execution by a few days. Next, they would face a pack of ruthless wolves and tigers who would devour the Cui family, skin and bones alike.
He knew that the real contest lay in the drafting of the "rules of procedure" that he could barely pronounce.
Cui Yunshu put down her teacup.
She stood up, walked to the huge desk, and spread out a brand new, snow-white sheet of Xuan paper.
Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a cold glow on the paper.
She picked up her pen and dipped it in thick ink.
The pen tip hovered on the paper for a moment, then steadily, stroke by stroke, it fell.
Draft Articles of Association of Daqin Royal Ocean Trade Co., Ltd.
Fourteen characters.
Each word seemed to be cast from molten iron, carrying an undeniable, cold determination to smash a hole in the world.
Cui Wen and Song Shi both crowded around, staring at the words, their breaths catching in their throats.
“Shu’er…” Madam Song’s voice trembled, “This… how should this be written?”
Cui Yunshu did not answer.
She simply dipped her brush in the ink again and began to write below the title.
Her voice, as the pen moved across the paper, rang out clearly in the quiet study, like a sermon from another world.
"Article 1: Separation of ownership and management rights."
Every word she uttered felt unfamiliar to Cui Wen and Song Shi.
"What do you mean?" Cui Wen asked instinctively.
"It means that whether it's the emperor or the officials, they invested money and became 'shareholders.' At the end of the year, they can look at the accounts to see how much money we made, and then take their share of the profits based on their investment."
“However,” Cui Yunshu’s tone shifted, her voice becoming sharp, “they cannot interfere in any of the company’s specific affairs. What kind of ships to buy, what routes to take, who to do business with, what prices to sell the goods for—these are all things they have no right to ask. The ‘General Manager’ is in charge of these matters.”
"General Office?"
"A steward. A steward who is only responsible for the company's profits and not for the personal preferences of any shareholder."
Cui Yunshu spoke casually, but Cui Wen was terrified.
To let the emperor and his officials just take money but not do anything? How...how could that be possible? Would they agree to that?
"Article Two, Establish a Board of Directors."
Ignoring her father's shock, Cui Yunshu continued writing.
“Everyone who has contributed money can send people to form a ‘board of directors.’ This is the company’s highest decision-making body, which sounds like it has a lot of power.”
A barely perceptible, icy smile curved her lips.
"However, the articles of association must stipulate that all proposals concerning core matters such as the company's business strategy, route development, and ship construction must be initiated by a 'technical shareholder' who holds more than 10% of the shares and has at least ten years of experience in long-distance voyages."
"Technology shareholder?" Song murmured, repeating the word.
“Yes.” Cui Yunshu pointed her pen heavily. “In the entire Qin Dynasty, there is only one company that meets this condition.”
The Cui family.
Cui Wen's breath hitched suddenly.
He finally, finally began to understand what his daughter meant.
This is a trap.
A brilliantly crafted trap woven with flowery language and unheard-of concepts!
She gave them a "board of directors," a seemingly supreme authority, but then used the threshold of "technical shareholder" to lock the most important "proposal right" in this body firmly in her own hands!
What's the point of their meeting if there are no proposals? Are they just going to discuss whether the weather is nice today?
"Article 3, Profit Distribution and Mandatory Reinvestment."
Cui Yunshu's voice was devoid of any emotion.
"At most, 30% of the company's annual profits can be distributed as dividends to all shareholders. The remaining 70% must be forcibly invested in the company's further development. This includes building more and bigger ships; exploring longer shipping routes; establishing more overseas trading posts; and recruiting and training the best sailors."
"Why?" Mrs. Song couldn't help but ask, "Wouldn't they be happier if we shared more of the profits with them?"
“No.” Cui Yunshu shook her head. “Mother, think about it. When their lives and fortunes are tied to this company; when their annual dividends depend on how many new ships we build and how many new routes we open up… do they want us to stop, or do they want us to go faster and further?”
"We will turn everyone's greed into fuel for the expansion of our fleet. They will want to see this fleet grow larger and more invincible, even more than we do ourselves. Because the strength of the fleet is equivalent to the thickness of their purses."
A long, deathly silence fell over the study.
All that remained was the soft scratching sound of Cui Yunshu's pen tip gliding across the paper.
Looking at the focused profile under the lamplight, Cui Wen felt as if he were looking at a stranger.
All the scheming, checks and balances, and compromises he had learned in officialdom over the decades seemed so naive and ridiculous in the face of his daughter's simple, brutal, yet insightful "business rules."
This is not a conspiracy.
This is an open strategy.
It involves laying everyone's desires on the table and then using an impeccable set of rules to guide those desires in the direction she wants.
He suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold, followed by an uncontrollable, trembling excitement.
But……
“Shu’er,” he finally found his voice and spoke with difficulty, “What you’re saying… is too good to be true. We only own such a small share, why would they… why would they agree to hand over something as important as management rights to us? Just because of the title of ‘technical shareholder’? What if they band together and forcibly change the articles of association?”
This is the most fatal problem.
It is also the foundation of all plans.
If this cannot be established, then everything else is just a castle in the air.
Cui Yunshu put down her pen.
She looked up at her father's eyes, which were filled with doubt and fear, and calmly replied:
“Dad, it’s precisely because we own a small share that we appear ‘selfless.’ We’re not doing this for our own profit; we’re doing it to help everyone get rich together.”
"As for the operating rights..."
She smiled.
It was a knowing smile, tinged with pity, as if a god were looking down upon all living beings.
“We’ll give them something. A profit forecast report that they won’t be able to refuse once they’ve seen it.”
“I would tell them that if I were to run this company, it would earn back half of their investment in the first year. In the third year, it would double. In the fifth year, it would quintuple. In the tenth year, each of them would be incredibly wealthy.”
“I will use numbers they can understand to draw a big pie in their minds. A pie so big that just one glance at it will make their mouths dry, their hearts race, and they will throw all reason to the back of their minds.”
"When greed overwhelms reason, they will willingly relinquish power. They believe that only by handing the knife over to the one who wields it best can they get the biggest slice of meat."
"That's human nature, Dad. It can't be changed."
I'm too lazy to say anything more.
Everything that needed to be said has been said.
Cui Wen was completely stunned.
He stared blankly at his daughter, at the draft charter filled with unfamiliar words, yet every word was precious, as if it contained some profound truth of the universe.
He suddenly realized that this was no longer a business document.
This is a... declaration.
It was a declaration from his sixteen-year-old daughter to this vast, corrupt empire that revered imperial power—a declaration to redefine the rules of the game.
She wasn't trying to save herself.
She is creating a new world.
A new world that belongs to her, made up of money, desire, and rules.
Cui Yunshu put down her pen and gently blew on the ink on the paper.
She felt a peace she had never known before.
The "book" that had haunted her for three years, predicting her and her family's tragic fate, now seemed to have become a pile of insignificant, laughable waste paper, which she completely forgot about.
Starting today.
She will write her own rules.
She will take control of her own destiny.
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