The Turbulence of the Bund Chapter 19: Foundations Unfold, Gazing Toward the Future

When Chen Lin stepped into the Diandi Trading Company, twilight was just creeping in through the windows, casting a warm golden hue over the wooden floor of the corridor.

The Chinese servants were busy wiping tables and setting utensils; upon seeing him, they paused their work, wearing restrained smiles and slightly bowing in greeting. “Mr. Chen has returned.”

His status was no longer what it used to be; even his footsteps carried a newfound steadiness.

The white employees who passed by no longer held the same air of arrogance in their eyes; some even nodded in acknowledgment—the news of erecting a building frame in five days had long since spread throughout the concession.

Chen Lin headed straight up to the second floor and knocked on the door of Diandi’s office.

The wooden door creaked open slightly. James blinked at him twice before opening it fully to let him in.

Inside, smoke lingered in the air. Diandi sat behind a large oak desk, his expression as stern as ever, a pipe glowing red between his fingers.

Standing beside the desk was a Latin man with chestnut curls, a high nose bridge, and deep-set eyes. Upon seeing Chen Lin enter, he lazily lifted his eyelids and glanced over Chen Lin’s suit as if looking at a clothed monkey.

James returned to Diandi’s side, his gaze still tinged with a hint of nervousness.

Chen Lin, however, pretended not to notice and walked straight to the desk.

“Boss, I’ve finished my business,” he said first, his voice calm and unruffled like still waters.

“Oh?” Diandi picked up his pipe and tapped the ash on the desk, sparks scattering. “Gone so long? I heard your home is near the concession.”

The chestnut-haired man immediately stepped forward, expertly helping Diandi refill his pipe with tobacco, striking a match to light it.

The flame leapt up, illuminating the fine wrinkles at the corner of Diandi’s eyes.

Diandi took a deep drag, exhaling thick smoke from his nostrils, which dispersed into the air, instantly making the room feel a bit oppressive.

Chen Lin’s mind raced, his past workplace experience surfacing—this was a test from the boss.

He lowered his eyes and spoke calmly, “I went back to Yangjing Town for a visit. My sister has no one to take care of her and is temporarily staying at a friend’s house. I wanted to see her to feel at ease.”

“That all?” Diandi’s eyes sharpened like a hawk’s, locking onto him. “No visits to any ‘friends’?”

Chen Lin feigned a sudden recollection, scratching his head. “Oh, right. On my way back, I met someone claiming to be an assistant from Renji Trading Company. They said Mr. Kibu, their boss, wanted to see me.”

“Did you agree?” Diandi’s fingers lightly tapped the desk, producing a steady ‘tap tap’ sound.

“Neither accepted nor refused,” Chen Lin lifted his head, his gaze sincere. “I told them I was busy with current matters and had no time for now.”

“Hm, playing hard to get?” Diandi’s tone revealed neither anger nor pleasure.

Chen Lin’s expression turned slightly anxious, bowing slightly at the waist. “Boss, you jest. You showed kindness to Jack—if not for Diandi Trading Company, I’d still be a homeless street kid.”

He paused, his voice dropping somewhat. “We Chinese say, ‘A favor received should be repaid with a spring of gratitude.’ I will always be a man of Diandi Trading Company.”

Hearing such words from a young boy, there was no trace of flattery—only genuine sincerity.

Diandi looked into his clear eyes, the tightness around his mouth easing slightly—such a candid expression could not be feigned by someone so young.

The first hurdle was passed.

But Diandi wasn’t ready to let him off so easily and shifted the topic: “You said you learned English from the pastor. What about your chemistry knowledge?” He pointed to the patent application documents on the desk. “One of the ingredients in the quick-setting agent—you synthesized it yourself, right?”

Applying for a patent meant technical details could not be concealed.

Chen Lin was prepared. His tone carried a hint of reflective bewilderment: “My pastor told me he used to be an alchemist. He taught me that all matter shares the same foundation; by discovering the right principles, transformation is possible. I learned some basic alchemy from him. Unfortunately, I didn’t turn any metal into gold but managed to develop other things.”

He spoke lightly but aptly—at this time, “chemistry” had not yet been formally named, and Europeans still regarded the science as inseparable from alchemy.

Diandi’s gaze softened, even tinged with appreciation. “You’re a smart kid. It’s a shame to make you an assistant, but you’re too young yet. You have to take it step by step, not rise too fast.”

His words sounded like a carrot dangling before him but were also partly sincere.

Had Chen Lin hidden his meeting with Yangfang, Diandi wouldn’t hesitate to exile this “treasure” to some remote corner in the Nanyang region—such valuable talent must never fall into competitors' hands.

In his eyes, Qing nationals were never truly “people.” Value made one a tool; lack of it, disposable.

“Thank you for your understanding, Boss.” Chen Lin bowed deeply, bending just enough to show respect without losing dignity. His gratitude was genuine, lacking the usual Qing servant’s sycophancy.

He stepped half a pace forward, his tone eager: “Boss, the market for quick-setting agents is actually huge. If the company can secure the patent and produce it, it will surely be very profitable.”

Diandi raised an eyebrow, his pipe paused mid-air. “You know about business too?”

“I don’t understand business, but I have seen practical use,” Chen Lin shook his head but spoke confidently. “During the building of the big structure, I realized cement was much more convenient than wood or stone. The future of construction might change, and this material will surely see wider use.”

“That’s right. Go on.” Diandi leaned forward slightly, clearly intrigued.

“Yes, sir.” Chen Lin’s eyes brightened, his pace quickening. “I think we can build a cement factory on the Bund, specializing in cement production. The concession will definitely expand, and demand for cement will grow. Then we can set up a chemical plant to produce the quick-setting agent—not only selling here but also shipping back to Europe. That way, we can expand Diandi Trading Company’s territory!”

Diandi stared at him, his fingers tapping louder on the desk. “Do you know how much it costs to build a cement factory? And the quick-setting agent patent—I gave it to you personally.”

Chen Lin shook his head and shifted his tone: “Boss, I plan to sell the patent to the trading company.”

“What?” Diandi suddenly straightened, the pipe nearly falling, his blue eyes wide with surprise—he hadn’t expected the boy to say that.

Chen Lin continued, “I think for the company to grow, it has to dare to invest. If funds are lacking, we can use the patent and its future value as collateral to raise money in London or find other foreign companies or even local merchants on the Bund to partner with.”

“You know about financing too?” Diandi was startled for the third time, his pipe suspended in midair. The concept of “finance” was probably unheard of by most in Qing China; yet this boy proposed a complete plan.

He suddenly turned and shouted at James, “James!”

“Ah? Boss, I’m here!” James was startled from his daze, stepping forward quickly.

He knew the boss’s temper and silently worried for Chen Lin—this boy was his recruit, and if anything went wrong, he would be implicated.

But Chen Lin had not only passed the test with ease; he had also steered the conversation toward business, which surprised and delighted James.

“You heard all that just now?” Diandi asked irritably, his tone laced with frustrated affection.

“Yes, yes!” James nodded repeatedly, smiling broadly. “I think Jack’s ideas were spot on, very clear!”

Diandi shook his head, knuckles drumming on the desk. “That’s not what I meant. How many years have you worked with me?”

“Over ten years, Boss.” James lowered his voice and bowed deeper.

“More than ten years with me, and you’re still not as sharp as a kid barely in his teens!” Diandi glared at him. “Could you have come up with those plans just now?”

James hadn’t expected to be caught in the crossfire but quickly put on a sincere expression and lowered his head. “Boss, I’ll study hard from now on and learn more from Jack.” Then he added quickly with a flattering smile, “But Boss, Jack was brought into the company by me. No matter what, I deserve some credit, right?”

“Hmph, thick-skinned,” Diandi’s tone softened, even curling into a faint smile—signaling his anger had subsided.

Chen Lin stood aside, quietly relieved. His plan had just taken another step forward.

Diandi turned to Chen Lin, his tone serious: “You said you want to transfer the patent to the company—have you thought it through? This is a golden goose.”

He acknowledged Chen Lin’s words, ready to discuss details.

Chen Lin nodded, eyes firm. “I have. The company has shown me kindness beyond words.”

The more he said this, the more Diandi felt reluctant to take advantage outright.

In truth, Chen Lin knew well that with his current standing, he couldn’t protect the patent—if someone stole the technology to produce the agent, he lacked the means to defend his rights.

Better to transfer it to the company, gain startup capital, and deepen his ties with Diandi.

His forthcoming plans would require substantial cash.

Since entering the company, he had been executing a strategy: take charge of the building project to showcase his abilities; propose patent transfer to bind the company; now present a financing plan for factory construction to further solidify his position.

As for the quick-setting agent patent, it was just one of many technologies he had in mind—any one of which could sustain him for generations.

What he lacked most now wasn’t technology but a foundation.

An orphan without backing, no matter how skilled, could still end up destitute and destroyed.

Only by first securing a foothold in the company, accumulating capital and strength, could he protect himself and those he wished to shield, allowing the technologies hidden in his mind to truly become forces that change the era.

The sunset streamed through the window, casting Chen Lin’s shadow long upon the floor like a sapling striving to grow.

The smoke in the room gradually dispersed, mingling with the scent of coffee and tobacco. A conversation that would decide the future was still unfolding.