Chapter 1796 - Assaying Gold and Silver

Such "disorder" was precisely what the Senate's governance philosophy sought to eliminate. From a livelihoods perspective, though small and micro enterprises and individual households were modest in scale, they remained indispensable for solving employment problems and facilitating daily life. Properly supported, they also made excellent tax sources.

But they were genuinely too small and scattered. Whether for management or taxation, the administrative costs proved prohibitive. Organizing them into guilds would make everything far easier to operate.

And the next step—issuing new currency—particularly required the cooperation of industrial and commercial households.

In the three months since entering the city in March, the preliminary establishment of police institutions, abolition of broker houses (yahang), creation of wholesale markets, and the rush by state-owned commercial enterprises to establish points throughout Guangzhou... all of it ultimately served one purpose: supporting the new currency issuance. Liu Xiang wanted to ensure that the moment new currency was issued, it would circulate unimpeded throughout Guangzhou. Whether the industrial and commercial associations could be effectively controlled and managed would determine the success or failure of the entire endeavor.

This Industrial and Commercial Congress had first sorted through the city's guilds and associations. It promulgated the "Regulations on the Management of Trade Guilds," implementing a registration system. All guilds and associations were required to register and file with the municipal government. Each must maintain a fixed office address and designated personnel in charge. All "public fields" and "public property" held in guild names must be registered and filed, or they would receive no official recognition. "Official money" under each guild's name must have proper accounts.

For industries where multiple competing guilds existed, the situation was complex, with each guild possessing its own public property. These were temporarily left unmerged. Industries lacking organized guilds were ordered to establish them and elect persons in charge within one month.

Liu Xiang's gaze swept over the text of various resolutions and orders, pausing at the list of the first Council of the General Chamber of Commerce. Gao Ju unquestionably served as president, Zheng Shangjie as supervisor, with thirty standing directors beneath them. Liu Xiang recognized or had heard of most names. Among them, a few were "hidden cadres" controlled by the Political Security Bureau, and a handful had been specially selected from small and micro industrial and commercial households—one of whom was Zhang Yu's father—to balance the power of major households in the federation. These few needed support, Liu Xiang reflected—not economic support, but political status. They needed to be elevated.

While he pondered, Guo Xi'er entered to report that all members of the first Council of the General Chamber of Commerce had arrived.

"I'm coming." Liu Xiang stood. "Notify Director Chen again. Tell him everyone has arrived and invite him to the meeting."

Several days later, night fell heavily over the city. The Jufeng Hao smelting shop in Guangzhou's old city had already shuttered its doors, yet light leaked through the cracks—extremely bright. Smoke rising from the chimney on the roof confirmed that the shop's fires still burned.

The main hall of a smelting shop typically contained no furniture like other establishments, to prevent criminals from using tables and chairs to vault over the one-man-high counter and spy on activities behind it. But today, a long table had been arranged as in the reception room of a wealthy family. A circle of prosperous-looking men sat around it, sipping tea. In a side room behind the counter, firelight rose slowly—silver being smelted and cast into ingots.

"Manager Shen, usually when smelting silver we send servants and you refuse to let us watch—so be it. But today, with so many colleagues from Guangzhou Prefecture here, you still won't let us verify!" The speaker was Boss Zhu of the Rice Guild. Rumor held he was also a clan relative, of the "Tu" generation character, though starting from his grandfather's generation, his branch's name had been struck from the Golden Register and Jade Plate. Relying on wealth and connections accumulated by ancestors, by Boss Zhu's generation he had risen to head the Guangzhou Prefecture Rice Guild. Unfortunately, after the hair-bandits broke the city years ago and planted a Dachang Rice Shop in their midst, Boss Zhu's influence had waned. Watching his business suffer under Dachang's pressure year after year, his temper had grown increasingly volatile.

"Boss Zhu! This old one's entire family depends on this craft for their livelihood! Besides, this small crucible smelting throws off waves of heat. All you proprietors are protected by the God of Wealth, but should any harm befall you, this old one's family couldn't bear the consequences!" Manager Shen's reply was equally blunt.

"Still thinking about eating! If the hair-bandits actually push this thing through, your family might as well close up shop!" Boss Zhu shot back. "I just want to see. In the future, this craft may never be seen again!"

Everyone exchanged dismayed glances—had Boss Zhu completely abandoned himself to despair? Shouting "hair-bandits" so boldly in public! Was he trying to get them all killed? The hair-bandits—no, the Australians—had been here nearly a hundred days now and hadn't made any moves against major... ah... puppet Ming clan relatives. Those with names on the Golden Register and Jade Plate remained untouched. What was Boss Zhu's tantrum about? Could he truly regard that one sitting in the Forbidden City as family and wish to demonstrate loyalty?

Manager Shen's face flushed red at the rebuff—though a lifetime spent tending silver-smelting furnaces had long since baked his complexion ruddy anyway. He gave a heavy hmph. "At worst, this old one will close the shop and defect to the Australians on Qiongya Island. This old one can't replicate the Australians' silver coins, but I haven't lived these decades in vain. With this pair of eyes and ears—judging fineness, listening to the ring of coin—I'm not afraid I can't earn a living!"

Boss Zhu inhaled as if to retort, but others were unwilling to let the confrontation continue. They began interceding—some urging Manager Shen to calm himself, others questioning what had provoked Boss Zhu's outburst today, still others changing the subject entirely, each tongue blooming eloquently. Only Gao Ju in the seat of honor remained motionless and silent, savoring the Limu Mountain Oolong tea in his hands. After a while, the heated atmosphere cooled. Exchanging glances, everyone felt awkward, and so they followed Gao Ju's example—ceasing conversation, merely consuming tea snacks and tasting tea. Occasionally someone remarked, "This walnut crisp tastes familiar—must be from the Zhang Family Tea Food Shop outside Yongqing Street," or "This Australian Oolong tea is stomach-nourishing; paired with tea snacks, it doesn't feel overly sweet." But at most, such comments drew one or two echoes before silence fell again.

Gradually, clinking and clanging sounds emerged from the back. Manager Shen closed his eyes and cocked his ears to listen to the metallic rhythm, sometimes frowning, sometimes smiling and nodding. Everyone understood at a glance: the work was nearly done. Sure enough, not long after, an apprentice hurried in bearing a lacquer tray.

"Reporting to the manager! Reporting to all proprietors! A one-tael-six-mace fine silk small ingot has cooled, covered with red cloth. Under the blue handkerchief is a fine silk ingot originally made in our shop."

Gently placing the tray before Manager Shen, the young apprentice turned and trotted away, returning with an Australian kerosene lamp from the back. Including the one already on the table, he positioned them left and right before Manager Shen, transferred the flames, and adjusted the wicks to maximum brightness. Instantly, the hall blazed with light as bright as day.

Every eye focused on Manager Shen—even Boss Zhu, who had inexplicably picked a fight moments ago, watched intently. The expert was about to demonstrate his skill.

Manager Shen first accepted a hand cloth to wipe his fingers, then fitted a silk-woven glove over his left hand before using that protected hand to grasp the newly cast fine silk small ingot. Those watching silently cursed: when asking him to appraise silver fineness on ordinary occasions, they had never seen him wear gloves! In that moment of distraction, those busy mentally criticizing him failed to notice from where Manager Shen had produced a small golden hammer. This diminutive instrument was famous throughout Guangzhou's commercial world—the Shen family's ancestral treasure, crafted from pure gold, called the Golden Striker (Jin Ji Zi). Legend held it had been blessed with secret methods; a single tap on gold or silver, and the head of the Shen family could determine the exact fineness. Looking again and again, tapping again and again, comparing back and forth, Manager Shen finally tucked the Golden Striker into his bosom, sat upright, and assumed an expression of unfathomable depth.

Everyone exchanged glances, not daring to speak. After a short interval, Boss Zhu again lost patience. "What's the verdict, Manager Shen? Give us a word!"

In return, he received only a sidelong glance and a few words hissing between Manager Shen's teeth: "What's the panic!"

Boss Zhu was about to flare up again when the little apprentice happened to arrive with another tray. This one bore a pair of silver plaques, three inches long, two fingers wide, and one fen thick. Every family present had seen such items before. Once patterns and characters were engraved and polishing completed, they became the flower tokens indispensable for authorizing household affairs large and small. The two before them, however, were blank and whole—smooth plates without any carving. Manager Shen observed and tapped again, then collected them, sitting straight in the center, maintaining his unfathomable demeanor.

Afterward, items of different sizes and shapes arrived in succession, all in pairs—one newly cast, one from the Shen family's existing collection.

Last to arrive was Boss Shen's son. In the tray he carried, besides two silver ingots the size of ten-tael official treasury silver, lay two thin sticks.

Boss Shen tapped again, then rose and yielded his seat, allowing his son to sit and begin the observations and tapping from the beginning. He himself went behind the counter to retrieve additional implements. The assembled guests had little interest in watching more ingots and plaques being tapped—they had just witnessed that process. Their eyes followed Old Shen's hands instead. The fish-shaped object was a Silver Star steelyard (dengzi scale), capable of weighing to fractions of a qian. The other was in a box, not yet opened, but Gao Ju already knew what it contained: a balance scale of Western manufacture—the ones made by the Australians were finer, and he had one at home, usually enshrined like a treasure.

Father and son measured once more, then solemnly put away their various instruments—Old Shen returned the Golden Striker to his bosom. Every eye focused on him again. Manager Shen built the tension at length before finally speaking a single sentence: "Changxi, you speak first."

"Yes, Father!" Manager Shen's son had been standing behind his father. At this command, he stepped forward. His formerly obsequious posture transformed, becoming suddenly dignified and imposing. Several observers nodded approvingly at the sight: truly worthy of being Young Shen the Appraiser, preparing to succeed Manager Shen—the title "Fiery Eyes and Golden Pupils Shen Gongbao" wasn't entirely hot air.

End of Chapter