Chapter 576 - The Main Road
Quark Qiong emerged from the small room with a face flushed crimson. It was quite a while before he told Li Luoyou what had happened inside: he'd been semi-forcibly stripped of his trousers, then made to lie on an iron bed, whereupon several women with faces covered by white cloth masks—showing only their eyes—came and scrubbed him from front to back below with brushes dipped in medicinal solution.
Then his freshly cleaned and disinfected parts were carefully examined by multiple observers for several minutes, and probed with cold, pincer-like instruments. Quark silently lamented his fate, but the burly men beside him made him dare not resist.
He then heard people discussing that his body hair was too thick to see clearly, followed by debate about whether to shave him. Quark was horrified—he wasn't a woman! If his nether regions were shaved and anyone found out, he'd be a laughingstock for life.
He pleaded desperately in Mandarin and Cantonese, saying he was willing to give up everything if they would just not do this shameful thing to him. In the end—whether due to his pleading or because they decided it was unnecessary—he barely escaped this ordeal.
"...For days after I got back from Lingao, I still had that medicinal smell on me," Quark said helplessly. "These Australians are truly strange people!"
But at the moment, his face was stony as he followed Li Luoyou out of customs in silence.
Outside customs was another cobblestone paved courtyard. As the group was looking around, a young man in a blue servant's coat came hurrying over:
"Excuse me, might this be Master You from Foshan?"
"Indeed, this is our master." Saoye nodded.
"Greetings to Master You." The man immediately dropped to the ground and kowtowed. "This humble servant is from the household of Master Yang Shixiang of Lingao Runshitang. I've been specially sent by our master to welcome you."
"Please lead the way."
The man quickly rose and led them forward. At the courtyard's edge ran a broad road, with many signs posted along it. They bore what appeared to be place names—County Town, Ma Niao, Bairren, and several others. Under each sign gathered groups of villager-looking folk carrying shoulder poles and baskets, waiting. Among them were also "cropped ones" wearing the Australians' trademark short jackets.
Everyone found this interesting. Suddenly from a row of buildings at the road's head came the sound of whistles, and a four-wheeled cart pulled by four oxen slowly appeared on the road. The ox-cart was a long box shape, quite tall, with each wheel reaching shoulder height. Two drivers sat at the front, a sign reading "Bairren" hanging from the front of the cart.
"Passengers, attention! Passengers, attention! The scheduled cart to Bairren is now arriving! Please step back behind the safety line and queue for boarding!"
A man in a blue cloth jacket came out, holding a tin funnel to his mouth as he shouted. He also blew a whistle from time to time.
The ox-cart slowly pulled up to the Bairren sign and stopped. The waiting crowd stirred, pushing and shoving toward the cart. The man with the tin funnel kept shouting: "Don't push! Don't push!"
But clearly his shouting had little effect; everyone wanted to squeeze to the front. To the front for what? Was the ox-cart giving away money or rice?
Then several people wearing conical hats and carrying short clubs at their waists appeared in the courtyard. They waved their clubs and shouted, and order gradually returned as people began to form a line. Clearly the locals were quite afraid of these "police" with their conical hats and short clubs—probably Lingao's version of "runners."
The driver climbed down and lowered folding iron step ladders. The queuing passengers began boarding the ox-cart one by one, seating themselves along both sides of the carriage. Then the driver raised a simple sun awning. Those with shoulder poles and baskets used the iron rings and ropes on the carriage's outer walls to secure their goods outside. This ox-cart now looked quite odd, covered in external attachments.
Li Luoyou's party naturally had no need for public transportation. Runshitang had prepared two sedan chairs and four or five wheelbarrows in advance. The master rode in the sedan chair; servants loaded the luggage onto the carts and walked alongside.
Lingao's climate was hot; though it was only late February, the weather was already somewhat sultry. Runshitang had prepared bamboo strip cool-chairs—both breezy and good for sightseeing. Li Luoyou sat upright in the chair. The road to the county town was level as a grindstone, entirely paved with black gravel, extremely compact. Vehicles he saw along the way traveled on it smoothly and quickly. Li Luoyou, who had suffered greatly from the mule carts up north, couldn't help sighing to himself—even the imperial boulevard in the capital probably wasn't as smooth as this road.
The road's center was marked with white lines. Every li or so there was an arrow indicating direction. Signs stood everywhere along the roadside, some with words and some with symbols—Li Luoyou could barely take them all in.
What he admired most were the clear directional signs at every crossroads, telling you where each road led—not just the destination, but intermediate place names and distances. Clear and comprehensible at a glance.
He called Saoye to bring over the Yang family servant who had come to receive them.
"What do all these road markings mean?"
"They're traffic signs." The Yang family servant explained each symbol and label one by one.
"Truly meticulous." Li Luoyou commented. "This is the Australians' work?"
"Yes, this road was also built the Australian way. The labor and materials expended are beyond counting."
Even someone with no engineering experience like Li Luoyou knew the road's cost must be immense. Though he didn't know what the black road surface material was made of or how it was laid, the roadbed had drainage ditches with perforated covers on both sides; roadside trees—though only tea-cup thick—were carefully maintained, each trunk propped with supports; resting pavilions for travelers and livestock with water troughs and wells; watchtowers every two li... All told, this road must have cost several times more than an ordinary road.
"Such massive construction—the people of Lingao must be suffering greatly."
"Reporting to Master, not at all." The servant smiled. "How many people does Lingao have? Round them all up and there still wouldn't be enough for road work." He pointed to a large pile of gravel and sand on the road's right side. "Just this river project alone has several thousand workers. They're all laborers the Australian masters brought in themselves."
"Where do the laborers come from?"
"Shipped from the mainland. Every few days, several boatloads of people arrive in Lingao," the servant said.
"Shipped from the mainland? Must be refugees."
"Yes. When they arrive, they look neither human nor ghost. First they have to spend two months in the big barracks at Bopu, getting nursed back to health before they're fit to work." The servant smiled. "We all say: this isn't like hiring workers at all—it's more like doing charity. The Australian masters are truly wonderful to the poor."
This was unpleasant to hear. Li Luoyou gave an indifferent snort. The servant knew his master was displeased and said no more, just walking alongside the sedan chair.
Though they couldn't see the work sites from the road, the endless piles of gravel, yellow sand, and excavated soil along the roadside suggested a massive project. Ox-carts fully loaded with bricks, timber, bundles of thin bamboo strips, and many sacks waited in neat rows by the roadside to unload. Some sacks had torn edges, spilling gray powder.
The squirrel-cage cranes he'd seen at the harbor were here too, standing in rows. Strange though—no one was running inside them now. Instead, black iron machines puffed and wheezed, belching white steam and black smoke. Iron wheels of various sizes spun rapidly, making clanking sounds. Several men blackened by coal smoke attended these devices, constantly shoveling coal into them.
From time to time, blue-clad workers in rattan helmets passed by carrying tools and pushing carts. They were covered in mud and dust, but looked energetic—each one robust and dark-skinned. Occasionally they'd sing songs about "...strength..." To Li Luoyou, accustomed to gentle crooning, this sounded like howling, though it was indeed quite stirring and inspiring.
The laborers were very disciplined. Someone waved red and green flags to direct work, but there were no whip-wielding overseers. Everyone seemed to know what they should be doing. The entire work site appeared orderly.
Li Luoyou watched this riverside construction and couldn't help clicking his tongue. River management on this scale—how much manpower and resources must Lingao be investing? Never mind the road construction and buildings... The Australians had really invested heavily here!
If so, cooperation with the Australians was worth discussing. Li Luoyou reasoned: regardless of where the Australians came from, how good their goods were, or how capable they seemed, the fundamental point was their ability to protect themselves. If they couldn't protect themselves, sooner or later they'd be driven out or destroyed by either government troops or sea lords. Cooperation would hold little benefit for him.
Only if they could guarantee their continued presence in Lingao was cooperation possible—just like his main partners, the Portuguese.
Now it seemed the Australians' investment in Lingao was enormous. With such massive investment, they must have both the ability and determination to defend their property. With these two points established, Li Luoyou could discuss deeper cooperation with the Australians.
Li Luoyou's party soon reached the county town. Along the way, he'd seen enough of the ugly buildings the Australians had constructed. "Ugly" wasn't because the buildings weren't solid or well-built, but because they were all built to standard geometric specifications with almost no curves visible. All buildings had no decoration beyond whitewashing; many were identical in form, proportion, and dimensions. The Australians' architecture's main feature was practicality and sturdiness. There were many multi-story buildings—not just two floors, but three, four, even five or six stories. Li Luoyou couldn't understand why—Lingao had plenty of wasteland. Following the main road, many areas had not just no villages but not even cultivated fields, just wild grassland—why would the Australians use such land-saving methods?
As the county town walls came into view, not far from the city gate stood a circular fortress-style building.
Around the fortress were expansive farmlands—some with lush green rice seedlings already planted, some covered with golden rapeseed flowers, some with rows of various vegetables, and some with unknown green crops. The growth was excellent, far more orderly and flourishing than the farms along the road. Li Luoyou nodded to himself silently. This place—
As the sedan chair passed, he noticed the fortress gate was open. Several women sat there, some mending clothes, some holding children and chatting—a scene of peace. But on the gatehouse, armed men stood guard with long spears.
"What is this place?"
"Reporting to Master, it's Xuetian Manor."
"Xuetian Manor?"
"Yes, inside live the long-term workers and their families who farm the school lands." The servant said. "All around are Lingao's school lands."
"These school lands are well tended!"
"They were contracted to the Australians' Tiandihui for cultivation."
"The Australians know how to farm too?!" Li Luoyou was even more surprised. Outside reports only said they were "skilled in techniques" and "capable craftsmen," making all sorts of ingenious things. He hadn't expected they could farm too! This was astonishing news indeed.
"That's right," the servant pointed out. "This area of school lands used to yield barely one in ten. Only after Tiandihui took over the contract did it become like this. What you don't know, Master, is that just the preparation before planting was enough to astound anyone."
He went on with great interest to describe how the Australians turned and leveled the fields, how they dug ditches, how they used over a dozen oxen to pull iron frames through the fields for cultivation, how they brought cartloads of charcoal and lime to spread on the land...
Li Luoyou listened carefully, increasingly feeling the Australians' intentions differed from the Europeans'. Europeans, regardless of nationality, came to Ming primarily interested in trade and commerce, or simply raiding and plundering. He'd never heard of any being interested in farming. Of course, their lack of interest was understandable—Ming was neither their homeland nor a colony for settlement.
The Australians here were recruiting refugees, building roads and cities, dredging rivers, establishing farms... Though Li Luoyou hadn't read much history, he knew such activities far exceeded a maritime merchant's needs. The Portuguese occupied Macau merely seeking a temporary anchorage; the Australians were building a "little Australia" here!
He suddenly thought: could this be another Jurchen situation?
Thinking this way, cooperation with the Australians required extreme caution.
With such complex feelings, Li Luoyou's sedan chair arrived at the city gate. Four or five militiamen with long spears stood guard. It seemed the county town was still Ming territory. But when he noticed the militiamen's monk-like short hair, he knew this "Ming territory" was merely a facade.
"Present your documents!"
Now Li Luoyou knew what the card was called—a "document." Saoye handed over everyone's documents, along with a prepared courtesy: a red envelope with two qian of silver.
"Something for the brothers to have tea with."
"No need." The sentry politely returned the red envelope. Saoye was stunned—this was two qian of silver! For four militiamen, this would be a substantial gratuity. Was it too little?
The sentry simply took the documents and examined each one, then checked the luggage on the carts. Finally he waved his hand: "Enter the city."
(End of Chapter)