Chapter 1861 - Benefits to People's Livelihoods

"After you raised the matter, I gave it considerable thought. It does seem that apart from producing exquisite objects for appreciation, such techniques have little practical application!" Zhang Dai adopted a serious expression and turned the question back on his host.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Liu San rose with a great laugh and began pacing slowly about the hall—not to put on airs, but because despite his theoretical preparation, he hadn't actually prepared examples in the direction of ceramics. He needed to improvise. After just a few steps, his eye fell on something, and fragments of related technology came to mind. "Never mind whether this is exactly right—I'll bluff my way through!" With that, Liu San resolved to pose as an expert.

"Master Zhang, if we speak of 'benefiting people's livelihoods,' I could cite a single advantage, but someone who cares only for appearances and not for reason need only dismiss it as 'a petty favor that doesn't reach everyone' to raise endless doubts. Why not first establish a standard: what constitutes 'benefit to people's livelihoods'?" Liu San dug the pit according to script.

Zhang Dai was startled: "These Australians know the Zuo Zhuan too?" Then he recalled the Thirteen Classics Commentary and his estimation of Liu San rose further—unaware that "The Debate of Cao Gui" had been a primary school text in the old timeline.

He reflected further: at literary gatherings of old, there had indeed been sophists and rascals who cared only for saving face and not for reason. No matter how soundly you analyzed and argued, they paid no heed, picking at minor details and raising endless quibbles, ignoring greater principles to argue trifles. Back and forth the debates seemed fierce but were actually meaningless for scholarship. When such a person seized on any point, he would natter on endlessly. A host presiding over such gatherings had only one recourse—use authority to silence the rogues; for incorrigible or egregious cases, expulsion and the label "literary rascal" would end all future association. Now Element Liu, before even beginning his argument, was laying down ground rules—apparently regarding Zhang Dai as that sort of person. Even with Zhang Dai's easygoing temperament, this raised his hackles. Then another thought struck him: did the Australians view all followers of the Sacred Teaching as so contemptible? A surge of melancholy washed over him.

"Please speak freely, sir. Whether or not it benefits the common people—justice will speak for itself. How could this humble one resort to sophistry?" Zhang Dai's reply carried a distinct edge of irritation.

"The common folk struggle to raise their children..." Liu San unconsciously slipped into classical diction; the words flowed smoothly, though inwardly he felt a twinge of awkwardness. "For most commoners, bringing a child to adulthood is truly difficult. Setting aside various accidents, a mere gust of wind or a draught of cold water can claim a child's life. Thus they must have many children—'more sons, more blessings' they call it, but in truth they hope that among many births, enough will survive despite the losses."

Though Zhang Dai was a privileged young master, he was no fop blind to the circumstances of the lower classes. He recalled what Liu San described: among the servants, family-born bondsmen, and long- and short-term laborers of his own East and West branches, the birth of a new child was naturally a happy occasion. For favored servants, he might bestow some gift if in good spirits; if a child died, the favored ones would sigh about bad luck in his presence and try to extract some burial money—whether or not they succeeded, they would grieve for a day or two, then speak of it no more. In the past, hearing such things, his only thought had been "another servant family with a red or white affair, another excuse to ask for silver—how tiresome." Now Element Liu presented the bloody reality from a physician's perspective, and even someone as broad-minded and optimistic as Zhang Dai felt a tinge of gloom. But what did any of this have to do with ceramic craftsmanship?

"Those who survive and grow half-tall are also a worry—just when their bodies are developing, their appetites increase while their size and strength haven't caught up. In the countryside, they can't handle heavy farm work; in the cities, no one wants to hire half-grown lads." Here Liu San recalled certain social investigation records occasionally circulated among Elements, and genuine emotion entered his voice. "When too many children survive in a family and they can no longer afford to feed them all, those who've grown large and can work must shoulder the burden of supporting the family, just like their parents. As for the smaller ones—too many and unable to support themselves—they must find some way, pull some strings, send them off as apprentices—at least to get a bowl of rice. And if disaster or famine strikes and there's no livelihood, they have no choice but to sell their own flesh and blood..."

Zhang Dai sighed along but made no comment. Such "concern for the people"—whether sincere or feigned—he had heard plenty of at literary and poetry gatherings. Yet mostly it amounted to nothing more than sighing. At best, someone would declare "If I pass the examination," "If I receive an appointment," "If I become a county magistrate," followed by grandiose vows. But soon the focus would shift to why so-and-so hadn't yet passed or been appointed, and the "people" who had introduced the topic would be tactfully dropped. He wondered what this Australian would say.

"Suppose there were something that could enable a thousand such half-grown lads to support themselves—not only solving their own food and clothing, but if hardworking, even contributing a little to their families. Would Master Zhang consider such a thing beneficial to people's livelihoods?" Liu San laid out his offer.

After all that preamble, Liu San had finally laid out his terms. Zhang Dai could hardly say in good conscience that for one or two million people in Guangzhou and Qiongfu, a thousand youths amounted to "a petty favor that doesn't reach everyone." Far from petty—at minimum it meant a thousand families relieved of one burden; the actual beneficiaries would number not less than three to five thousand. To be a local official, a county magistrate—unless assigned to a prosperous, strategically important post—the population under one's jurisdiction might not even reach five thousand. One thing benefiting the people of an entire county—how could it not be "beneficial to people's livelihoods"?

"If truly so, that would indeed be a great good!" Zhang Dai sighed. "Please do enlighten me: what thing could benefit so many common folk?"

"Ha ha! Master Zhang has been in Guangzhou for some time. Since summer began, ice pops have appeared everywhere in the city. Has the gentleman tried one?"

Ice pops—as a great gourmand, Zhang Dai had of course eaten them. He possessed intense curiosity about novelties. He had long heard of the Australians' various novel foods, and arriving in this city where Australians congregated, he had naturally indulged to his heart's content. Moreover, it was convenient: the Zicheng Company's ice houses delivered ice to the Liang mansion daily. Besides ice blocks, each delivery included various ice pops, kvass, and other cold drinks. Just yesterday afternoon, he had eaten a lychee-flavored one—but what did this have to do with ceramics? And with people's livelihoods? Zhang Dai was momentarily at a loss.

"So Master Zhang has eaten them but hasn't seen how they're sold." Liu San had clearly anticipated this. He pointed casually at two cloth-wrapped vessels in the shaded corner of the medicine shop—one labeled "Hot," the other "Cold"—where free cooling tea was dispensed.

"Master Zhang, please come look. Those half-grown boys who sell ice pops use this very thing."

Curious, Zhang Dai walked over. Both large vessels were wrapped snugly in plain cotton cloth covers. When he lifted the similarly cloth-wrapped lid, the herbal fragrance of the cooling tea wafted up. Looking closely, Zhang Dai saw that these were not the earthenware crocks he had expected, but ceramic-faced containers with plain white walls and a blue rim.

"This is—?" Zhang Dai asked, puzzled. If it was porcelain, such a large vessel with walls this thin was worrying. If not porcelain, the surface clearly had the luster of porcelain glaze.

"Enamelware. An enameled vat," Liu San explained. "Essentially falang... cloisonné..."

Enamelware? Cloisonné inlay? That was copper! The Jingtai-era cloisonné enamelwork was quite famous; even a single piece had once been a palace treasure. Even now, only a few small items circulated. Zhang Dai's own family collection included just a handful of small pieces. And this large vat before him—plain white all over with only a blue ring at the rim—had nothing whatsoever to do with "cloisonné inlay"!

"You jest, sir. Cloisonné ware has a copper body." Zhang Dai shook his head.

Hm? Copper? Cloisonné? Liu San was taken aback. Ah, someone had mentioned that enamelware with a cast-iron core didn't appear until the nineteenth century.

Quick-wittedly recalling this key detail, Liu San nodded immediately: "If copper can be used, why wouldn't one think of iron?" As for the issue of base glaze adhesion to an iron core, Liu San glossed right over it.

"Iron is hard yet ductile, and can be made extremely thin. Copper is expensive while iron is cheap—using iron for the core makes it affordable and practical. Please observe: this large vat is also fully glazed, essentially plain white, with a rolled rim that received a second firing of blue glaze. The glaze completely seals the iron core, giving it the durability of iron while the glaze prevents the iron from contacting liquid, so it won't rust. Just put a layer of crushed ice inside and wrap the outside with an insulating layer—ah, this cotton cover—and the ice pops inside will stay frozen for several hours..." Whether this enameled vat was actually produced using this technique, Liu San couldn't be bothered to verify. As long as he convinced Zhang Dai for now—the logic held up anyway.

"If one used a clay crock or wooden bucket, at this size, the weight of the container alone would be enough to exhaust a half-grown lad. Without this technique, ice could only be sold from fixed stalls." Liu San continued eloquently.

In his heart, Zhang Dai was convinced—yet not entirely. The enameled vat was light, clean, sturdy, and possessed many other advantages. The ice-pop-selling boys carrying these vats could certainly save much effort and carry more product. But many of the ice vendors he had seen in the streets did not use enameled vats—they used small wooden boxes lined with quilts.

He said thoughtfully, "Doctor Liu makes a valid point. However, these enameled vats don't seem strictly necessary. The ice vendors I've seen in the streets use only wooden boxes wrapped in cotton quilts inside."

(End of Chapter)