Chapter 1731: Roll Call
Dong Mingdang lowered her head. "Yes. Thank you, Your Excellency. I only ask that you issue a document permitting my mother and me to remain in Guangzhou."
"The Senate has established a policy for the families of Ming officials," Liu Xiang replied. "Those who wish to return home will receive travel expenses. Those who prefer to stay may do so. After the review concludes, you'll be free to go wherever you please."
"Your Excellency's grace is boundless." Dong Mingdang hesitated before continuing. "It's only that my mother and I are now orphans and widows, without livelihood or anyone to look after us. I beg Your Excellency to show additional mercy—please return a few servants, along with our personal property."
"Any servants willing to follow you may do so freely. We won't make difficulties. As for your private savings, they must be audited first. In principle, anything within acceptable limits can be returned."
Dong Mingdang knelt and kowtowed deeply. "Your Excellency's kindness is beyond measure!"
When Guo Xi'er emerged from the office and saw Dong Mingdang's still-composed expression, she couldn't help but complain: "You really caused me trouble today!"
Dong Mingdang took her arm and smiled. "It was all my rashness, Elder Sister. I troubled you terribly." As she spoke, she pressed a handkerchief bundle into Guo Xi'er's palm. "Thanks to your help," she whispered, "I will never forget it. A small trinket—just a token of my gratitude."
Guo Xi'er recoiled as if burned. "No, no! Don't get me in trouble."
Thinking Guo Xi'er found the gift inadequate, Dong Mingdang lifted a corner of the handkerchief. Inside lay a gold hair ornament with an emerald begonia pendant—worth at least two or three hundred taels of silver.
Yet Guo Xi'er still refused. Afraid of attracting attention with further back-and-forth, Dong Mingdang tucked the bundle away. "Elder Sister is too polite. You leave me truly uneasy..."
"Don't mention it." Though Guo Xi'er could recognize the jewelry's luxury and was tempted, she dared not accept it. Thinking of the young woman's pitiful circumstances, sympathy welled up in her. "My hometown was originally in Shandong too, same as your mother's. Helping a little is only natural." She sighed. "I didn't expect your life to be so miserable. Now that you're mother and daughter without a man to support the household, the days ahead won't be easy. Keep it for living expenses."
"I'll still need Elder Sister's care in the future." Dong Mingdang curtsied again before departing.
Back in her room, Dong Mingdang summarized her meeting with Liu Xiang to her mother, then added: "Lord Liu has permitted us to take away a few servants. I've been thinking—we mother and daughter have only one personal attendant and one maid between us. Even taking both, four women cannot support a household..."
Concubine Jiang nodded silently. She was not old—barely past thirty—and possessed a graceful beauty that surpassed even her daughter's. Yet she had never been favored in the Dong household. She had borne no sons, and her dull, unengaging personality meant Master Dong rarely visited her chambers. Without favor came diminished treatment: while other women had an attendant and two maids, Concubine Jiang had only one maid.
Though they could take their servants, without a man in the family, two women living alone would inevitably attract unwanted attention. For a widow without husband's family or natal relatives to offer protection, harassment and worse were constant threats. Some predators made their living kidnapping unprotected widows to sell.
"I've been observing Dong Xiang, who served in the Master's study," Dong Mingdang said thoughtfully. "He's clever and—rare for a man—genuinely dutiful. He's never married. Lan'er is already twenty. Why not match them? The couple can manage external affairs while we preside over the household. Neither is local, and in these chaotic times, they won't be thinking of returning home."
"That seems appropriate, Dang'er," Concubine Jiang agreed. "But if we stay in Guangzhou, how will we make a living?" Worry creased her brow. Master Dong's hometown was obviously out of the question. Concubine Jiang's own relatives hadn't been contacted in years—with the endless disasters in the north, they might not even be alive. As a low-ranking concubine, she had no income beyond her monthly allowance. She had a little saved—some jewelry and antiques—but sitting idle while consuming one's savings was no long-term plan.
Dong Mingdang spoke with quiet confidence. "Mother, Guangzhou is a prosperous place with silver everywhere for those willing to work. The Australians act with great method and will surely achieve greatness. Following behind them, we'll have plenty of opportunities. Please don't worry about our livelihood—I have plans."
Concubine Jiang had never been one for decisive opinions. Seeing her daughter speak so logically and having no better ideas herself, she agreed.
Early the next morning, Dong Mingdang packed her luggage and prepared to leave for Guangxiao Temple. Having delayed several days on pretense, she arrived after the other household members and servants had already departed. The Planning Institute Search Team, having already recovered Prefect Dong's hidden silver, had left only a handful of people to catalog worthless household items. Between this and Guo Xi'er's presence, the inspection of the Dong mother and daughter's belongings was perfunctory. Dong Mingdang did her best to humor Guo Xi'er, and knowing she wouldn't accept expensive gifts, presented her with a Sichuan fan from her own collection. This time, Guo Xi'er accepted.
Liu Xiang, naturally, had no energy to pay attention to the friendship developing between his secretary and Dong Mingdang. He had far too much on his hands. At that moment, he was receiving the clerks and runners of the Three Classes and Six Departments of Guangzhou Prefecture in the main hall. Today was their first day to "answer roll call" at the new Guangzhou Municipal Government.
The Senate's basic principle for the takeover was to "temporarily preserve the old state machinery." While they had built a clean and relatively efficient administrative system on Hainan Island and trained many cadres, these were far from sufficient for a city of Guangzhou's size. Liu Xiang's immediate priority was ensuring the one prefecture and two counties' clerk and runner teams worked stably, maintaining urban order and basic functions. Clerks and runners occupied the lowest rungs of society, yet they handled most administrative affairs in ancient cities. Their familiarity with the city far exceeded ordinary citizens'. Despite their notoriously harmful practices, Liu Xiang couldn't simply sweep them out—he had to utilize them.
To this end, he and Lin Baiguang had established basic principles for handling the clerk system in several pre-entry meetings: "Strike at typical examples, educate and retain the majority." Retained personnel would be treated with "position without power, fully utilized," then gradually eliminated over three to five years. "Active elements" would be converted into formal naturalized citizen cadres.
Since the Tang and Song dynasties, clerks had been infamous as "treacherous and evil" and "cunning." Whether an official was clean or corrupt, opposing the clerks meant he couldn't serve peacefully, much less achieve anything.
Though Lin Baiguang supported the "preserve the old machinery" policy, he remained deeply wary of this group. The clerks' greatest weapon for coercing officials—the "old system" with its "precedents" and "regulations"—no longer applied under the new administration. Yet their familiarity with bureaucratic operations still gave them power to do harm. Even the Senate's own cadres could fall into their traps through carelessness.
"Mistakes can be corrected," Lin Baiguang had reminded Liu Xiang, "but once popular support is lost, it's nearly impossible to retrieve. Pay special attention not to be used by them—doing bad things with good intentions. History is full of such examples. In the end, the ones being cursed will be the Senate and you!"
Liu Xiang intended to fully utilize their capabilities without letting them trap him.
"I've considered this," he had replied. "First, we establish authority. A new official needs three fires, and I think the first should burn right here in this yamen. Looking at the materials you've given me, there's plenty to work with. We start by eliminating the chief evils—pick a few from the Three Classes and Six Departments who've committed notorious crimes and aroused public anger, then hang them from lampposts. The rest will understand..."
"Don't underestimate them. The harm of clerks has lasted a thousand years, from Tang and Song through the Republic. Every era's incorruptible officials and wise monarchs have been helpless against them. I've investigated—many clerk families have passed down the trade for generations, some since the Song Dynasty. It's hereditary craft. You must be not just careful, but meticulous."
Now Liu Xiang sat in his office with eyes closed, resting. On his desk lay case files—black materials all. Today, relying on these, he would begin his killing spree.
Though this contradicted the Senate's advocacy of "rule of law," he was currently Director of the Guangzhou Military Control Commission. According to the backdoor opened by the Law Society, "military control" meant "martial law." As Director, he also served as Grand Judge of the Guangzhou Military Court—effectively "speaking the law" himself.
A doorkeeper on duty ran over, panting and covered in sweat. "Your Excellency! It's nine o'clock. Shall we ascend?"
"Ascend!" Liu Xiang checked his watch and stood abruptly. "Tell the gatekeepers to fire the cannon! Guard personnel to posts, fully armed!" He checked his reflection carefully—his hair, his new navy blue Sun Yat-sen suit. The General Office tailors could finally produce decent ones. Smoothing out wrinkles, he walked out slowly toward the rear of the main hall. Guo Xi'er and two armed guards followed close behind. The doorkeeper had arrived ahead and stood bowing at the side door.
The main hall was already solemn and murderous, packed with people. Along the public desk, twenty-four National Army soldiers and twenty-four National Army Japanese Squad soldiers lined up in two columns extending to the door of the rear hall. The regular soldiers grounded their rifles with gleaming bayonets; the Japanese Squad wore bright red surcoats bearing Iron Fist crests, dual swords at their waists, standing erect and unblinking.
More than ten scribes in neat robes and boots stood on the west side of the hall pillars. On the east side stood the foremen of the Three Classes and their runners, distinguished by their clothing, awaiting orders. A chair had been set to the left of the public desk, where Wei Bifu, Counselor of the Guangzhou Municipal Government, was seated. On the right sat LĂĽ Yizhong, the newly appointed Secretary of the External Liaison Department.
Seeing such a formation, the clerks and runners felt their unease deepen. New officials always came with fires to set—let alone during a change of dynasty! How would this Australian Lord Liu set his? Some, knowing their sins were great, felt terror building. Yet this ancestral rice bowl couldn't be abandoned—it represented not merely livelihood and enrichment, but survival itself. At the dawn of a new dynasty, failing to integrate into the system and losing its protective umbrella meant that accumulated enemies, old and new, would erupt at once. Families would be ruined, lives lost.
The main hall and courtyard were black with people, yet the surroundings remained eerily quiet. Then came the sound of a curtain lifting—Chief Liu was emerging. Three cannon shots thundered: "Bam—Bam—Bam!"
The doorkeeper shouted at the top of his lungs: "By the order of the Great Song Senate, Guangzhou Prefect Liu Xiang ascends the hall—"
He had devised this title himself after consulting Guo Xi'er. At his shout, the clerks and runners, all trained in courtroom protocols, responded in unison with "Ooo—" to display hall prestige. Like marionettes, they stepped back in perfect synchrony. Liu Xiang's footsteps clattered from the east rear side door as he proceeded directly to the public desk and stood at his seat.
"Peace to Your Excellency!"
Hundreds of people inside and outside the court knelt as one. The sound shook the hall, making it hum.
"Everyone please rise." Liu Xiang's expression remained impassive. Even so, a collective sigh of relief passed through the room. Wei Bifu and LĂĽ Yizhong cupped their hands upward and sat with hands on knees. The rest stood solemnly, hands at their sides, occasionally stealing glances at the public seat. Liu Xiang also sat.
Looking at the black crowd standing from below the desk all the way to beyond the main gate, Liu Xiang felt puzzled. According to data from the City Operation Department and the roster from the Shelf Archive, the prefectural yamen should have fewer than a hundred authorized clerks. Adding salaried runners brought it to just over three hundred.
Though he knew from the materials that every yamen had numerous "temporary workers" without payroll or wages, there shouldn't be this many!
He frowned. "Roll call!"
The roll call proceeded quickly. Over three hundred names in total. When finished, twenty-five people were absent. Eight had taken long leave; only seventeen were absent without explanation.
"Expel those absent!" Liu Xiang ordered. Seeing many people still uncalled, he turned to Wei Bifu. "There are still many whose names haven't been called..."
"They're all unregistered public service workers," Wei Bifu explained. "Those on the register receive three taels and six mace in annual wages. Those not registered only serve—they take no money."
Liu Xiang nodded. Three taels and six mace annually—a pittance. As for the many runners serving without pay, how they survived required no explanation.
Runner work was essentially unpaid labor. From the system designer's perspective, not paying runners—or paying only token wages—seemed reasonable enough, since it was meant to be "public service." This crude system had endured over a thousand years, and no dynasty ever acknowledged its fundamental unfairness. Officials complained about "slippery clerks" without ever considering reform at the source.
"How many unregistered workers are there?" Liu Xiang asked.
"This—" Wei Bifu said with difficulty. "This humble official is not certain. Probably fifteen or sixteen hundred."
(End of this chapter)