Chapter 1793 - Run Over Pasteboard (Gebei)

Manager Shen explained that although this variety of silver had existed since ancient times, ingots were rarely seen on the market. It was mostly fashioned into jewelry and hair ornaments—quite the rarity.

"This silver is slightly lighter than white silver, but the color is excellent and it resists blackening. Wealthy families sometimes cast small ingots as novelty gifts for rewards." Manager Shen paused. "As for casting it directly into a full-sized ingot like this—this is the first time this humble one has encountered such a thing."

"So it's counterfeit silver, then?" Li Ziyu had grown weary of the old man's circumlocutions. He asked directly.

"I dare not say that." Manager Shen shook his head repeatedly. "Zhuti silver has circulated since the Han Dynasty, recognized in every age. Even here in the Guangzhou market, Zhuti silver jewelry commands higher prices than ordinary silver ornaments."

Li Ziyu returned to the Municipal Bureau with this intelligence. Upon hearing that the silver was "not white silver," Wu Xiang immediately ordered Li Ziyu to bring all the gold and silver confiscated from Widow Wang's house—broken pieces, ingots, and jewelry alike—to Jufeng Hao for examination. The result: apart from these five ten-tael ingots and several pieces of jewelry, which proved to be Zhuti silver, everything else was white silver and gold of varying fineness.

"This silver and jewelry certainly didn't belong to that poor widow," Li Zhenguo observed. "They must have been left by either the deceased or the suspect."

"If they had belonged to the suspect, I think he would almost certainly have taken the Zhuti silver away," Li Ziyu reasoned carefully. "After all, it's uncommon—leaving it behind could prove incriminating. I believe the silver most likely belonged to the deceased. The suspect probably mistook it for ordinary silver."

The likelihood favored the deceased as owner. According to Manager Shen, while Zhuti silver wasn't rare in Guangzhou, neither was it commonplace, and it appeared mostly as jewelry. That the deceased had possessed fifty full taels of Zhuti silver ingots invited an obvious connection to the Yunnan-Guizhou region.

Wu Xiang recalled several matters Director Mu had emphasized at the recent cadre meeting for naturalized citizens—particularly the upcoming currency issuance, and the directive to monitor financial and economic anomalies in the market. Zhuti silver ingots certainly qualified as suspicious.

He decided to report these findings to Mu Min immediately while simultaneously implementing a series of measures: issue notices to all police stations and security checkpoints throughout the city, requesting they check for any recovered heads in their jurisdictions; publish a corpse identification notice in the Yangcheng Express—though this body lacked a head, perhaps family members could confirm identity through descriptions of physical characteristics. Finally, continue investigating the recovered evidence and following leads.

The screening work fell once again to Li Ziyu and Zhao Gui. This time, their task was to trace the victim's clothing.

The clothing evidence recovered from the scene was substantial—fully seven or eight pieces of men's trousers, jackets, and short shirts, along with unburned clothing fragments and shoe soles excavated from the stove hearth. The coroner's comparison confirmed the sizes matched the headless corpse; these were almost certainly the victim's garments.

Yet having clothing didn't necessarily simplify matters. Guangzhou was both a major commercial port and an administrative center, teeming with officials, gentry, and merchants where "all manner of goods converged." Beyond the wide variety of silk and cloth produced locally, textiles arrived from all across the empire—and from Europe, Southeast Asia, and Japan as well. Various patterns, textures, and weaving methods added up to probably over a thousand varieties. Though trade associations like the Silk Guild and Cotton Guild could be consulted, the workload stretched toward infinity. The guilds might not even know which specific goods individual shops had imported. Investigation might require questioning shop after shop. Even if they discovered where goods originated, clerks might not remember to whom material was sold. And for material to become clothing, it had to pass through a tailor's hands. With so many links in the chain, any one could break due to simple forgetfulness.

After much deliberation, Li Ziyu decided to start with the two remaining unburned shoe soles.

Shoe shops were far fewer than silk and fabric merchants. Screening would be considerably easier. Li Ziyu proceeded directly to a well-known local shoe shop, asking the proprietor to examine what kind of shoes these soles came from and where they might have been sold.

The shopkeeper took the two scorched soles, studied them carefully, and pronounced: "These aren't from my humble establishment."

"Then whose are they? Can you tell?"

"Nobody's. These were made by women at home." The shopkeeper indicated the stitching. "Please observe, officer—the thread used for sole and upper, and the awl stitches themselves, don't show shop technique."

Li Ziyu felt keen disappointment, silently cursing his own foolishness. Of course few people purchased shoes from shops—most families still made their own. He had worn shoes sewn by his own mother.

"...However, this sole does bear a shop mark," the shopkeeper added.

"Oh? Which one?"

In medieval society, few people wore shoes at all. Most poor folk went barefoot, and even when they did wear footwear, it was homemade—straw sandals or cloth shoes. Shoemaking was basic needlework. Shop-bought shoes were largely the province of the wealthy and leisure class. But truly particular families considered shoes made by their own female relatives and servants superior, rarely patronizing shoe shops.

Nevertheless, whether for commercial shoe shops or wealthy households making their own, soles were usually purchased from outside. Making soles was hard labor.

A specialized trade existed for this work, commonly known as gebei makers—"run over pasteboard." Shopkeepers hired poor women, distributing scrap cloth strips and paste for them to work at home, paying by the piece.

The process of making gebei involved gluing fragmentary cloth strips together layer by layer with paste, then drying them with a branding iron to create thin cloth boards resembling cardboard. These gebei sheets were then cut into sole-shaped pieces, edged with fresh cotton strips, and finally, multiple layers were glued together with paste and branded dry—the finished product ready for sale.

"I recognized this sole's gebei at a glance—it's goods from Old Hou's household outside the Small South Gate. His gebei uses hemp cloth mixed with the scrap ends. Only six or seven layers in the sole material. The key is that the paste is mixed with rice straw pulp used for local papermaking. Without peeling it apart, it feels hard and thick, but crack it open and you can see the rice straw stems—pure show, no substance. No respectable shoe shop would use it. Mostly sold to small establishments and peddlers serving country folk, plus quite a few retail sales at his own storefront."

Li Ziyu took Zhao Gui and located Old Hou's household outside the Small South Gate. Old Hou recognized the goods immediately as his own. As for where they had gone, he couldn't say. He wholesaled several thousand pairs of such soles monthly to various shoe shops and vendors, and sold a few hundred more at retail through his storefront. Even excluding the share going to shops that didn't retail soles, the remaining volume was still considerable. How could vendors and clerks remember individual buyers?

Moreover, judging from wear and damage, these shoes had been made more than half a year ago. The hemp threads showed numerous breaks, and some areas were nearly worn through.

This amounted to a dead end. Just as Li Ziyu prepared to take his leave in disappointment, a shop clerk suddenly interjected: "Isn't this from the batch we sold to Changyu?"

At the clerk's prompt, Old Hou's memory stirred. Indeed, these were soles he had sold to Changyu.

Why did both clerk and proprietor remember? Because this particular batch's quality had been especially poor. Changyu's offered price was so low that ordinary gebei workshops refused it. Old Hou had finally accepted, with the explicit caveat that quality wasn't guaranteed. Consequently, this batch used excessive rice straw pulp, and the cloth gebei was pasted in only five layers.

As for why Changyu had ordered such inferior gebei soles, Old Hou had no idea. Money and goods had changed hands; the transaction was complete. But he could confirm absolutely that this entire batch had gone to Changyu, with no other customers.

With this crucial lead in hand, Li Ziyu obtained Changyu's address and hastened there with Zhao Gui.

Changyu's storefront occupied a desolate street near the Small North Gate in the northern quarter—a diminutive shoe shop with a single-bay frontage. Li Ziyu and Zhao Gui's arrival immediately caused a commotion. The shopkeeper hurried out, bowing and scraping with nervous courtesy. Upon hearing that they were inquiring about that batch of inferior gebei purchased from Manager Hou, his face fell. He served tea, bowed repeatedly, and produced a red envelope. Li Ziyu had difficulty explaining that he was here to investigate a case and had no interest in whether the shoes were good or bad.

"Were these shoes made here?" Li Ziyu displayed the two scorched soles.

The shopkeeper examined them and confirmed they were indeed his goods. Apart from the soles purchased from the Hou family, the hemp thread stitching came from his shop.

Li Ziyu recalled the earlier shopkeeper's observation. "I was told these shoes weren't made by shop clerks..."

Changyu's shopkeeper nodded. "That's correct—my clerks didn't make them. My establishment is small. All work is outsourced."

Changyu operated on a modest scale with limited resources, employing only two clerks besides the shopkeeper himself. Business volume was small and irregular. The operating model involved purchasing soles, uppers, and hemp thread wholesale, then farming out the assembly to poor women who sewed shoes at home, paid by the pair.

As for why he had ordered such inferior gebei soles from Manager Hou, the shopkeeper's face reddened with shame. "Truly, the price the customer offered was impossibly low, and my humble shop desperately wanted the business. Hence this... inferior expedient."

It transpired that six months prior, a customer had ordered five hundred pairs of cloth shoes, claiming they were rewards for employees. But the offered price was barely half what ordinary shoes commanded.

"...Even at that price, there was a five percent commission," the shopkeeper said with a bitter smile. "Following normal methods, I would have lost money. But such a large order is rare for my humble shop. I was blinded by greed, muddled in my thinking, so... so... I agreed."

Given the rock-bottom price, profit margins could only be maintained through cutting corners. Fortunately, the buyer had indicated that as long as the shoes lasted ten days to half a month without problems, the transaction would be considered complete. The shopkeeper had naturally exhausted every trick to reduce costs.

"Since my humble shop opened—though we're no venerable establishment—making such shoes was a first. Truly shameful."

Li Ziyu pressed forward. "Who purchased this batch of shoes?"

End of Chapter