Chapter 103: The Grain Squadron
Joseph returned to his office. While his mind was still alight with ideas, he recalled the "pitch" presentations his mentor from his previous life used to make for clients, and began writing on paper:
Title—Paris Fashion Week Planning Document.
Contents—
I. Prospects and Feasibility.
II. Operational Model.
III. Detailed Project Plan.
...
VI. Profit Model.
...
Joseph rubbed his aching eyes—he had worked until past two in the morning, sleeping less than six hours—and unfurled several blueprints. He immediately treasured them as he began to delineate the event spaces.
"The East Wing, directly opposite the palace gates, has several very spacious halls, making it most suitable for the main venue.
"On the first floor of the South Wing, we'll select roomy areas for dining and entertainment. We can send some imperial chefs there when the time comes...
"The first floor of the North Wing will sell luxury goods like jewelry. Hmm, we need to reserve a good location for Paris Angel...
"All of these rooms on the second floor will be arranged as high-end hotels. Service and reception staff must be recruited and trained in advance..."
Two middle-aged men knocked and entered, bowing to Joseph. Seeing him engrossed in work, they cautiously inquired, "Your Highness, do you need our assistance?"
They were Joseph's newly appointed assistant directors of the Industrial Planning Bureau, essentially the second and third in command.
One was formerly a speaker, while the other was an academic with business experience, familiar with the industrial landscape of France, and had been recommended by Archbishop Brienne.
Joseph nodded, handing his planning notebook to the taller man. "Perfect. Viscount Varennes, please help me take notes."
"Monsieur Sylvain, please help me hold down the blueprints."
The tall man looked at the blueprints, surprised. "Your Highness, this looks like the Tuileries Palace?"
"It is."
"What are you planning to do?"
"Save Lyon's textile industry," Joseph declared, pointing to the square in the very center of the palace on the blueprint. "Here, we'll construct a large catwalk, at least 50 meters long, with dense lighting. A fashion show will be held every three hours."
Varennes stopped writing after only a few words, turning to the Crown Prince with a troubled expression. "Your Highness, this 'catwalk' and 'fashion show' are..."
"A catwalk refers to..."
Several more hours flew by. After finalizing the venue arrangements, Joseph was revising his initial plan. Eman checked his watch and approached, saying, "Your Highness, the three men you requested are almost here."
"Oh, have them come directly here," Joseph nodded, feeling like a machine running at full power.
Soon after, three men of varying heights, weights, and builds entered the office and respectfully bowed to Joseph.
Joseph returned the nod, then handed the Fashion Week plan to his two assistants. "Please organize this quickly and make two copies."
"Yes, Your Highness," the two replied, bowing before leaving the office.
Joseph then turned to the three newcomers, smiling. "May I ask how long each of you has served the Royal Family?"
The three exchanged glances, then quickly responded, "Fifteen years, Your Highness."
"Thirteen years."
"Over twenty years."
They were originally managers of royal assets.
Joseph knew that if he or the government acquired grain, shrewd merchants would quickly notice, causing prices to skyrocket.
So he needed 'white gloves' to buy grain in small, dispersed batches. He had Eman select three loyal and experienced businessmen for the task.
Joseph smiled at them. "Gentlemen, please be seated. I must first warn you that what you are about to do must be kept strictly confidential. Do you understand?"
The three men, who were about to sit, immediately stood up again. "Yes, Your Highness, please trust our loyalty!"
Joseph nodded, trusting Eman's judgment. He asked them to sit again, then instructed, "From now on, you are the owners of six grain stores. Each of you will be responsible for two. You will select the storefronts and staff yourselves.
"After that, you only need to do one thing: buy as much grain as possible."
"Buy grain?" an elder asked. "Your Highness, when you say 'as much as possible,' approximately how much are we talking about?"
Joseph replied, "As long as the funds I give you haven't run out, and without causing market price fluctuations, keep buying."
The three exchanged surprised glances. The elder asked again, "Your Highness, do we not need to sell it?"
"You can sell a small amount to avoid drawing suspicion."
Though they didn't understand why, they bowed and replied, "Yes, Your Highness, we will follow your orders."
"First, prepare the storefronts and warehouses. The initial funding will be about 300,000 livres per person. Someone will deliver it to you in a few days."
The three men gasped in shock. 300,000 each, a total of 900,000!
'What does the Crown Prince need so much grain for?'
In truth, they had no idea that 900,000 livres was just the beginning. According to Joseph's plan, tens of millions of livres worth of grain were to be purchased within six months.
"I will reiterate," Joseph stated, looking at the three men seriously. "Try not to attract attention, and absolutely do not cause market fluctuations. What you are doing is extremely important. You must report your grain acquisition progress to me weekly."
"Yes, Your Highness."
After carefully explaining the details of grain acquisition, the three men departed. Joseph walked to the window, opened it, and stretched his aching back against the cool winter breeze, immediately catching the stench of sewage from the street.
He looked up and saw someone relieving themselves in a corner across the street, his brows furrowing instantly.
'Before, Paris's filth and chaos merely affected my mood, but once Fashion Week begins, it will impact economic revenue!'
'The city's appearance must be thoroughly cleaned up.'
'This will be a massive undertaking...' He sighed, pondering for a moment, then decided to start with public defecation.
Joseph summoned Eman and instructed, "Please send someone to City Hall to invite the Chamber of Commerce..."
He initially intended to assign the task to the head of the Chamber of Commerce, who was effectively the mayor, but then reconsidered, doubting his executive power. He changed his mind: "No, please ask Viscount of Besançon to come. I have an important matter for him to handle."
"Yes, Your Highness."
About an hour later, the Commissioner of Police was seated opposite Joseph.
"Your Highness, are you saying you want the police to monitor people who relieve themselves in public?"
"Exactly. Only the police can manage this."
"But where will these people... cough... relieve themselves?"
To be honest, even Besançon himself often relieved himself on the street, so he understood the predicament.
"Build public toilets, of course."
"Public toilets? What are they...?"
Joseph pressed a hand to his forehead. 'No wonder Paris is so dirty and smelly.' He explained, "They are restrooms built along the streets, where anyone can go to relieve themselves, so they don't have to do it on the street, cough."
Besançon's eyes widened instantly. "That's brilliant! Why didn't I ever think of that? Your Highness, you are truly the embodiment of wisdom!"
Comments