Chapter 1780 - Patrolman Li Ziyu
Whether the sun rose from the west, Zhang Yu didn't know, but that the sky had changed with the Australians' arrival was undeniable. Zhang Yu could read, had consumed a few more Australian magazines, and having scraped through the community school, his grasp of worldly wisdom was a notch above his honest, stumbling father. He had some insight into the Australians' ways.
"Old Dad, just go to the meeting," Zhang Yu told his father. "Whatever the Chief says, you agree to. If they want you to speak, tell the truth—it's all good words anyway."
"That—that's easy enough. But what if the Chief demands an apportionment?... I heard Boss Niu from the front street say that when the government calls merchants to meet, it's always for money."
"If they want an apportionment, just agree," Zhang Yu said. "If the sky falls, the big households will hold it up. How many coppers do we have? No need to worry for the big shots. If you're anxious, they're even more anxious."
His father didn't fully understand but nodded. Zhang Yu always read those Australian books and knew Australian studies; clearly, he understood these new Australians better.
Li Ziyu returned home at nine in the evening. He had eaten dinner at the Police Bureau canteen—overtime meant a free meal.
He had been working overtime for days, following the main force to arrest people. Reportedly, they were catching ya brokers. Li Ziyu didn't know much about brokers—only that they were "wicked" folk. Since the Chiefs wanted them caught, he'd catch them. He ate the government's grain; doing what he was told couldn't be wrong.
The arrest work was simple. Rookies like him just set up cordons on the road, barring idlers from passing. He watched the police from Lingao direct men to ram doors with logs, then rush in waving batons, howling, "Police! On your knees! Hands on heads!" It looked fresh to him—everything the Australians did was fresh, even arresting people.
He had worked two days straight, losing count of how many household raids he'd attended. Besides the cordon, he'd also charged into a few houses—at the very back, of course, waving a stick and yelling to boost morale.
Those arrested were mostly rich households. Li Ziyu knew that under the Ming, everyone involved in arrests, high or low, would make a small fortune: besides the official cut, everyone showed their powers when rushing in, grabbing plenty of goodies.
But under the Australians, no one dared step out of line. Let alone fishing in troubled waters, when a concubine secretly shoved a small piece of silver into his waist asking him to look after them, he hadn't dared take it, handing it straight to his captain to return. Later he discovered the others had turned in quite a lot too.
Turned in, yes, but Li Ziyu felt a pinch of heartache—that silver was at least four or five qian. Shining silver moved the heart. Li Ziyu naturally wasn't immune.
But he had to turn it in, because at the summary meeting before clocking off each day, the old naturalized police from Lingao held a Criticism and Self-Criticism session. Everyone had to mention their own shortcomings that day, and others' mistakes. Glossing over things didn't work; you had to have substance—speak nothing, and you didn't leave. For Li Ziyu and the new local recruits, this activity was torture.
Accepting bribes had always been "normal income" for officials. To curb grassroots corruption, the Senatorial Council used strict management and prevented grassroots cadres from clumping together. Simultaneously, they tried to create an atmosphere of "the Senatorial Council Is All-Knowing."
To make up for this loss, he stuffed himself in the canteen, hoping to eat enough for tomorrow's breakfast too—tomorrow was the late shift, starting in the afternoon. He had to resolve breakfast and lunch himself.
The Police Bureau provided two meals. That saved the family money. Plus his eight dou of rice per month... the man who had formerly eaten dry rice at home was now a pillar supporting the family.
"Eight dou of rice can feed a family of four, plus two canteen meals—I don't know where the Australians get the gold and silver mountains to squander like this..." Li Ziyu muttered as he unraveled his puttees. "This uniform is smart, sure, but which bastard invented these puttees? They're impossible to take off!"
Complaints aside, Li Ziyu, initially unused to the Australian uniform, was liking it more and more. Putting it on made him naturally stand tall; even his walk had a brisk wind to it. Comparing the current Li Ziyu to the one who used to loiter in a long gown, he seemed a man reborn.
"Yu'er's back? Come soak your feet." Hearing her son return, Li Ziyu's mother hurriedly poured hot water from the new Australian thermos flask into a wooden bucket. Since Li Ziyu became a patrolman, he'd developed the habit of soaking his feet after work. The warm water soothed the fatigue of walking all day—and eliminated the stench of feet wrapped up for hours. Only a few days on the streets, and the patrolmen had already earned the nickname "Stinky-Foot Patrol" among the populace.
Once the iron-studded leather shoes came off, a foul odor filled the room. His mother covered her nose, carried the shoes to the yard, and stuffed small paper packets of quicklime inside. They were issued only one pair; report had it the next pair wouldn't come until next year.
"No wonder the Australian selection exam focused so much on running. I've walked more in these few months in Guangzhou than in the past few years combined!" Li Ziyu complained resentfully.
"You think that eight dou of rice is easy money? Walking around every day gets you eight dou a month—others want to go but can't!"
"True. Several thousand people took the exam," Li Ziyu said, feeling smug about becoming a policeman. "But my job isn't as easy as you say, Mother. We don't just catch thieves; we handle a mess of other things. The Chiefs launched some 'New Life Movement'—this month is 'National Hygiene Month.' We have to catch people littering and urinating on the street. Tiresome... By the way, Mother, when you and Father go out, be careful not to litter. If you get dragged into the bureau, I'll lose face."
"This 'bureau' means the guardhouse, right?... Put your heart at rest. Your father served the government forever; doesn't he know the law is a furnace? We won't shame you." His mother smiled broadly, then turned serious. "Yu'er, does being a policeman have a future?"
"Mother... I've told you many times. The Australians merge officials and clerks. To be a big official, you start as a small runner—what the Chiefs call 'starting from the grassroots.' I can read; the hundred-odd people in the Study Department I attend are supposedly being prepped to be cadres... Oh, 'cadre' is an Australian official."
"The more I hear about this Australian stuff, the more confused I get. I'm just a woman; I can't figure it out." She shook her head gently. "Yu'er, I think: if you can avoid being a big official, avoid it. In case... in case the Ming army comes back, small fry surrender and keep their lives. Big officials lose their heads."
Since her brother-in-law's family was killed by river bandits on the West River, she worried most about the family's safety. In these chaotic times, keeping one's life was more important than being a big official.
"I know what I'm doing... Mother, you can't say 'Government Army' anymore. Call them 'Ming Army.'" Li Ziyu comforted her, though he privately put a big question mark on whether the Ming Army could ever fight back to Guangzhou.
"I know... Yu'er, since you have a job with the Australian government, your father and I discussed finding you a wife... Now that you have official status, we shouldn't settle for too little... Have you fancied any girl? I can ask Matchmaker Wang to speak for you... She's got a silver tongue; she's settled a dozen matches. You know Li Quanfu in Double Flower Lane? Even with his poor conditions, she made a match..." Speaking of marriage, a Chinese mother of any era could talk for half a day.
"Mother... let's talk about this later. Is Ah Gui back?" Li Ziyu changed the subject. He wasn't opposed to marriage, but felt that as a Stinky-Foot Patrolman, his level was too low. Better to wait until he was promoted—then he could marry a girl from a better family.
Ah Gui, named Zhao Gui, was his patrol partner, also a new recruit. Zhao Gui had been a propertyless, unmarried day-laborer. Now he rented a side room in Li Ziyu's house.
"He's been back a while. Helped sweep the yard and carry water." His mother sighed. "He seems a good man, just not very bright. I doubt he can help you much. At critical times, you have to keep your wits about you. That Zeng Juan seemed like a good kid; shame he didn't pass!"
"Not passing might not be bad." Li Ziyu wiped his feet. "Only cadres' exams are frequent. He has a quiet nature, doesn't like to talk; maybe he wouldn't suit the police."
Thinking of Zeng Juan, he remembered boasting he would "protect his nephew." Now, let alone venting anger for him, he hadn't seen Zeng Juan once. He wondered what Zeng thought. Li Ziyu cared more about his friends now—he'd visit him on this month's rest day.
His mother wanted to say more about marriage, but Li Ziyu pleaded tiredness and work tomorrow, slipping away to sleep.
(End of Chapter)