# Chapter 77 (Added 4): The Membership System (Expanded Edition)
Xiaoyao Tower opened for half a month, and it sold more than 300 stored-value cards, with the total stored value exceeding 50 guan.
The Chang’an business circle was shaken… although Drunken Immortal Pavilion had already closed, new taverns hurriedly hung up signboards reading “Store 100, get 10 free”; the West Market Hu merchants’ tea shop promoted “gold cakes membership,” which came with exclusive private rooms; even the East Market silk shop copied them, claiming, “Store value equal to 100 bolts of silk, and get 1 zhang of Shu brocade.”
Yet none matched Xiaoyao Tower’s prosperity.
“Because they only copied the shape and never grasped the spirit.” Du Heng told Princess Changle, his tone calm but certain.
He knew full well that the membership system was not for fleecing money, but for building long-term trust.
If he only pursued short-term profiteering, he would eventually lose the people’s trust; only by treating people sincerely and winning them over with skill could he gather hearts, form a system, and set standards.
For that reason, he personally drafted the “Xiaoyao membership regulations,” dividing it into 3 levels with clear rights and responsibilities and distinct courtesies:
– Silver Card (stored value 100 wen): Members got a 5% discount, plus 1 bowl of apricot cream on their birthday, which was a Gezhi Institute specialty slow-simmered over honeycomb briquettes, with almonds ground into paste, sweet but not cloying.
– Gold Card (stored value 500 wen): Members got 10% off, priority tasting for new items, priority reservations for private rooms, and 1 “gewu sachet” per month, which contained insect-repelling herbs that could be hung at home to prevent mosquitoes and flies.
– Jade Card (stored value 1,000 wen): Members got a 15% discount, a monthly cured meat gift box (including cordyceps stewed chicken and duck-blood cured sausage), and they could also bring friends to experience the “gewu kitchen class” for free, which was newly created by Du Heng and opened the back kitchen on the 1st of each month to teach people how to identify ingredients, control heat, and make sauces.
The first session of the “gewu kitchen class” had 50 slots, and they were snatched up in 3 days.
Among the applicants were rich merchants bringing their sons, scholars bringing friends, and even an old farmer who came leaning on a cane just to learn “how to use locust powder to boost umami.”
The membership craze swept through Chang’an.
Rich merchants fought to buy the Jade Card not for the discount, but to have their juniors listen to Du Heng teach in person: “The great path of gewu is not in study, but in the stove.”
Scholars scrimped to get the Silver Card not for the apricot cream, but for the warmth of “being remembered”… on their birthday, a waiter brought the bowl over: “Young master, young lord Du instructed that the apricot cream has been warmed.”
Even palace maids and eunuchs asked others to buy on their behalf, joking, “A Xiaoyao card smells better than a monthly stipend! With a card in hand, you carry dignity on you.”
The most unexpected one was Zheng Liwan.
That day, an unadorned carriage stopped in front of Xiaoyao Tower.
The curtain lifted, and a young woman in a cyan brocade robe stepped down slowly.
She looked about 17 or 18, with delicate features and eyes sharp as a blade, and she even held a ledger scroll whose cover read, “Zheng Family Trading Company · Luoyang branch accounts.”
“The Zheng family’s young master, Zheng Liwan.” Her self-introduction was cold and clear.
“I heard you are promoting a membership system, so I came to ask for guidance.”
Du Heng welcomed her into the “Calculation” private room, where there was no wine and no food, only a long table, 2 cups of tea, and several stacks of account books.
Zheng Liwan did not order any dishes and only asked 3 things: “How are the stored-value card funds managed, what is the bad-debt rate, and what is the repurchase cycle?”
Du Heng froze for a moment.
These 3 questions actually aligned with the essentials of financial risk control from a later age.
He took out a Gezhi Institute specialty ledger and explained in detail using double-entry bookkeeping: “Divide the funds into 3 parts: 70% for liquidity, used for ingredient procurement and labor; 20% for R&D, to test new dishes and make new sauces; and 10% as a risk reserve to handle refunds or disputes. The bad-debt rate is under 0.1%, because we implement real-name registration plus a deposit system, and the card can be reported lost.”
A sharp gleam flickered in Zheng Liwan’s eyes as she lightly tapped the page with her fingertips: “Wonderful! If this method is pushed to money shops and trading firms, it can prevent bank runs and stabilize the market.”
She stated her purpose directly: “The Zheng family wants to cooperate with you and push the Xiaoyao Tower model to Luoyang and Yangzhou. I provide channels, manpower, and funds, and you provide technique, brand, and standards. Profits are split 40–60, with you taking 60.”
Du Heng pondered: “If standards differ, won’t it ruin my brand?”
“We can set a ‘franchise review system.’” Zheng Liwan was prepared, and she took out a document scroll from her sleeve.
“You send kitchen supervisors and an accounting office, and I provide the site and staff. If it fails the standard, we delist immediately and never renew it.”
She also presented the “Xiaoyao franchise draft,” with meticulous clauses: ingredients must use Gezhi Institute certified suppliers, cooks must undergo “gewu kitchen” training, membership cards were valid nationwide, monthly data reports were shared, and even the liquidated damages were calculated at a daily interest rate of 0.1%, as precise as law.
“You’re truly skilled in commerce.” Du Heng praised her sincerely.
“My father died early, and I have steered Zheng Family Trading Company for 5 years.” Zheng Liwan said blandly.
“Without mathematics, I would have long been swallowed up by the Five Surnames and Seven Great Clans. I know that only by cooperating with you can I remain undefeated.”
They talked until dusk, and in the end they finalized the agreement:
– The Zheng family invested 10,000 guan in the first phase to build 2 shops in Luoyang and Yangzhou.
– Du Heng taught the techniques and dispatched Old Zhou as the chief accounting office to manage the finances across all 3 locations.
– Membership cards were valid nationwide, monthly data reports were shared, and in the future they might build a “member archive database.”
Princess Changle heard the news and personally summoned Zheng Liwan into the palace.
Inside Lizheng Hall, Changle granted her a seat and asked with a smile: “Why did you choose Du Heng?”
Zheng Liwan looked straight at the princess, neither servile nor overbearing: “Because he values substance over vanity. The membership system is not profiteering, but building trust. Honeycomb briquettes can warm the body, floral perfume water can please the heart, the Zhenguan plow can fill the belly, and Xiaoyao Tower can gather people. A person like this is rare in 100 years.”
Changle nodded and lightly stroked the Xiaoyao Tower Jade Card on the table: “Helping him is helping Great Tang. The ambition of gewu is not in one courtyard, but across the realm.”
Inside Xiaoyao Tower, membership day became a grand occasion.
On the 1st of every month, the back kitchen opened.
Children learned stir-fried greens, elders learned to tell mushrooms apart, and Hu merchants learned to make chili sauce.
Du Heng taught personally: “Heat control is the human heart; a hair’s breadth off, and you miss by a thousand miles. Stir-fried dishes are like governing a country: if the fire is too fierce, it burns; if it is too weak, it stays raw.”
After one agronomy elder finished the session, he returned to his village and opened a small stove business, and he unexpectedly became a famed chef in the wards.
He sent a letter of thanks: “Many thanks to young lord Du for teaching me a skill that keeps me alive. Now my vegetable-selling money has doubled, and my grandson can study.”
The data proved the success.
– The member repurchase rate reached 78%.
– Jade Card holders spent an annual average of 12 guan, far exceeding ordinary diners.
– 37 franchise letters of intent had already been received, covering Yizhou, Guangzhou, and Youzhou.
Yet Du Heng did not stop.
At the Gezhi Institute, he drew new diagrams… Xiaoyao membership big data system.
“If we know who likes spicy food and who prefers sweet, we can recommend dishes precisely.” He told Old Zhou.
“First set up ‘taste profiles’ and record them by hand: Gaoyang likes spicy food and avoids scallions, Changle loves sweet and fears grease, and little Zi’er only eats deboned chicken… then gradually digitize it, and in the future we might classify them with punch cards.”
Princess Gaoyang came again and sneered: “You even have to keep accounts for eating a meal?”
Du Heng answered: “Because I want the next time you come, for Kung Pao Chicken that you love to be served the moment you walk in, along with apricot cream to cut the heat… without you saying a word, I will already have it ready.”
Gaoyang froze and was left speechless, and as she turned away, the tips of her ears reddened slightly.
Late at night, Du Heng sat alone.
The account books Zheng Liwan left behind lay spread across the table, numbers like stars and order like a net.
He knew that Xiaoyao Tower was no longer a restaurant, but a testing ground for a business model, a dissemination network for gewu principles, and a funding pool for advancing technology.
Every stored-value deposit was trust, every card was a contract, and every repurchase was a vote for the path of “pragmatism that benefits the people.”
Outside the window, the Chang’an night market remained as lively as ever.
Under Xiaoyao Tower’s glass lanterns, the members chatted and laughed.
A Silver Card youth held apricot cream and smiled, a Gold Card scholar tasted new sauce and praised it, and a Jade Card rich merchant brought his son into the kitchen to learn to stir-fry a dish of “gewu greens.”
And those tiny stored-value cards would eventually pry open Great Tang’s commercial civilization…
From one meal and one dish, to one nation and one system; from one person’s trust, to the covenant of 10,000 people.
Du Heng blew out the lamp and looked toward the chart room.
Beside the paddle steamer blueprints, a new page had been added: “Membership funds can finance shipbuilding.”
Deep in the lamplight, the great path of gewu was moving from the stove to the ocean, from Chang’an to the world.