Chapter 1892 - Guangzhou Under the Shadow of Plague
Guangzhou Under the Shadow of Plague
If this case was confirmed, that peddler was almost certainly doomed as well. Fu Wuben sighed silently. If this patient had contracted the disease merely from exchanging a few words of conversation, then the fur merchant had very likely developed pneumonic plague too. And with so many days having passed, he might already have septicemia—perhaps he was already beyond saving.
Let us hope this suspected case can be ruled out as pneumonic plague. Everyone present prayed in silence.
After a long pause, Fu Wuben finally managed to stammer: "Quick! Quick, report to Director Lin!"
The results arrived swiftly. Lin Motian studied the report on the first pneumonic plague case. Well, what had to come would come. Since he had accepted this explosive assignment, this was unavoidable.
He immediately began issuing new quarantine and epidemic prevention regulations. The epidemic had launched its counterattack; the next phase might soon bring an outbreak. Moreover, the previous measures he had implemented—rat extermination, strict quarantine of the fur trade—could no longer halt the droplet transmission route of pneumonic plague. The source of infection would likely shift from primarily rats and fleas to primarily human-to-human transmission. He had hesitated for weeks, reluctant to unveil this document that would be considered shocking by this timeline's standards. But now he had no choice. Without deploying sufficiently harsh measures, no one could predict how the epidemic might develop—or whether Guangzhou would become a dead city.
According to the regulations Lin Motian had been implementing, a quarantine system had gradually taken shape. Yet these measures remained far from sufficient. Before them, after all, stood death's advocate—against whom humanity had struggled for millennia without success. One could imagine that a considerable number of ordinary soldiers participating in frontline quarantine would not live to see final victory. But this was no time for softheartedness. Lin Motian's next measures wouldn't merely fail to protect these ordinary quarantine personnel—they would expose them to even greater danger.
The outbreak of pneumonic plague and the accelerating daily increase in infections had completely silenced certain Elders who had been making snide remarks. Support for his work now poured in from all sides with unprecedented vigor, and Wen Desi had even telegraphed every department and Elder throughout the province, demanding they "provide every convenience."
Lin Motian undertook more detailed district divisions, preparing to implement martial law in districts where pneumonic plague cases had appeared. The street patrol system was converted to mandatory household inspections, and he requested additional quarantine inspectors from Hong Kong. He required each inspector to visit every individual household during each patrol. Once a suspected case was discovered, the patient and close contacts were to be immediately and forcibly isolated. At his discretion, houses of infected persons would be burned, with compensation provided. Citizens were gradually accepting the isolation policy—evidence that the propaganda department's work was indeed vital. The next phase of tightening would still require the propaganda department's continued assistance. All traffic checkpoints would strengthen quarantine, with non-essential trade completely prohibited. The small portion that remained would have to undergo strict quarantine and disinfection procedures. Vagrant shelters would be established to take in drifters and beggars, striving to eliminate their current status outside household registration. Bathhouses, inns, entertainment venues—even coffin shops and slaughterhouses—would all be sealed or placed under strict control.
The stricter new quarantine regulations had barely been published when all of Guangzhou erupted in uproar. Never mind local citizens being unable to accept them—even Mayor Liu's expression turned exceedingly grim. As long as these measures were implemented, the fiscal pressure on Guangzhou would explode to a degree he found unbearable. A few months of this, and the municipal government would face bankruptcy. Fortunately, Lin Motian had repeatedly emphasized in his reports to Lingao that epidemic prevention work required the full cooperation of the Elders' Council—Guangzhou alone could hardly pull through—which gave Liu Xiang considerable leverage when requesting funds from the central government.
Besides, everyone understood the fundamental question: money or life? So despite their displeasure, they still had to cooperate fully with implementation. If even they themselves were reluctant about the isolation policy, one could well imagine how much resistance there would be among the populace.
Lin Motian's group returned from inspecting the newly built disease victims' cemetery. The site was located at Yantang, at the foot of Baiyun Mountain, not far from the urban area. Cui Hantang had specifically gone to see it, rambling at length about the feng shui considerations in the site selection and design. Neither Lin Motian nor Liu Xiang had any interest in his pontifications—they cared only about how many people could be buried here.
The planned burial capacity was four thousand plots. Combined with wall niches and flower-bed burials, the total capacity would accommodate roughly ten thousand urns of ashes. Lin Motian thought this number should suffice.
If it's not enough, we're probably not escaping either.
The name "Disease Victims' Cemetery" proved too morbid, so the cemetery adopted the name of the old charitable institution under the Guangzhou Prefecture office that had managed paupers' graves and collected roadside corpses—the Louze Garden. It was named Louze Garden Cemetery.
Workers were cutting terraces into the hillside and laying slope protection stones. Architect Ji Runzhi, urgently transferred from Lingao, was responsible for the project's design and construction.
Reflecting that his first architectural commission in Guangzhou was actually a cemetery, this designer who had dreamed of building countless "Thousand-Year Reich" structures predictably wore a dark expression. Naturally, he wasn't in a good mood toward Lin Motian and the others either. Despite Liu Xiang's repeated assurances that "the design should be bold, the materials refined, and funding is no concern," Ji Runzhi could muster little enthusiasm.
The cemetery grounds included three small religious buildings: one Buddhist temple, one Daoist temple, and one Catholic church. The Daoists were dispatched by Cui Hantang; monks were found locally from temples. As for priests—when the Jesuit missionaries heard that the "Black Death" had broken out in Guangzhou, they came of their own accord like flies drawn to carrion. Though their medical skills were useless against plague, they remained determined to "save as many souls as possible" and had rushed to the city. Liu Xiang directly assigned these missionaries to the cemetery as caretakers, incidentally performing Mass at burials. This arrangement drew protests from the missionaries—because the deceased hadn't been baptized in life, holding requiem Mass at burial was meaningless.
Lin Motian had no interest in such doctrinal disputes and returned early to his office.
Walking back, he observed that due to pneumonic plague transmission, stricter quarantine and isolation measures were already being enforced. The streets, which had still shown some signs of life before, had lost their once bustling crowds—so desolate it sent chills down one's bones. Every household had barred its doors. Garbage blew across the streets in the wind—a scene of utter desolation.
The once-thriving marketplace had lost all signs of vitality. Though most shops remained open, hardly any customers lingered inside. Owners and workers wore worried expressions—the market depression caused by large-scale quarantine and isolation was beginning to manifest. Lin Motian knew that the Chamber of Commerce had petitioned Liu Xiang a few days earlier for tax exemption over the next six months. The affected industries touched every sector—from lofty foreign merchants earning fortunes daily to humble craftsmen and peddlers. Everyone was suffering. The only exception was coffin shops—they had received a modest windfall from large orders placed by epidemic prevention stations for thin cremation coffins.
Switching to specialized cremation coffins was another of Lin Motian's innovations to reduce cremation resistance. Previously, the corpse collection teams had used oilcloth body bags. These required custom manufacturing from raw materials to finished products at the United Logistics uniform factory in Hong Kong. Not only were costs high, but they gave people a feeling of cheapness.
Having a coffin was at least more dignified than being placed in a bag—the latter, in many minds, was no different from being wrapped in reed mats: the after-death standard for the destitute.
Switching to thin coffins constructed from miscellaneous woods could not only be manufactured locally but was also considerably cheaper.
However, this small "prosperity" was utterly insignificant compared to the market depression. According to police reports, many urban poor were beginning to have difficulty making a living and had to rely on relief to survive. Moreover, the middle and lower-middle classes were also experiencing varying degrees of hardship and urgently required assistance. Relief grain now had to be shipped daily from Hong Kong to Guangzhou.
Liu Xiang had said with a bitter smile at yesterday's municipal government work meeting: "The Elders' Council thought Guangzhou was a milk cow—turns out it's a dying cow on its last legs! Not only is there no milk, but we have to keep giving it blood transfusions."
"But as long as the milk cow stays alive, there'll be milk," Lin Motian replied. "If it dies, there's nothing left."
Guangzhou's currency reform had completely stalled—commercial circulation had nearly ceased. The silver lining was that the anticipated problems of currency shortage and unscrupulous merchants hoarding goods for profit hadn't materialized. The plague bacillus had destroyed all such possibilities.
The series of new policies promoted by the Guangzhou Municipal Government had also ground to a complete halt. All human and material resources had been diverted to epidemic prevention.
The work of fighting the plague was enormously complex—the Epidemic Prevention Battalion, investigation teams, quarantine camps, infectious disease hospitals, epidemic prevention stations, the crematorium, and now the cemetery... He had to oversee everything. Exhausted, he returned to the epidemic prevention command center of the Health Department. Before stepping into the buffer zone to remove his isolation cloak, he couldn't help frowning again: an envelope hung at the door—today's epidemic report had arrived. He wondered if the numbers would improve his mood.
There was some good news: "Cremation policy implementation proceeding smoothly—all disease deaths and suspected disease deaths in the city have been cremated according to regulations... Propaganda front achieving significant results—the proportion of citizens accepting the Elders' Council's isolation and cremation policies is gradually increasing. Resistance to isolation, escapes during isolation, and secret burial or dumping of corpses have essentially disappeared. Street sentiment monitors in all districts deserve great credit... The plague isolation ward at the Infectious Disease Hospital has identified twenty-four pneumonic plague cases. Scattered pneumonic plague cases have begun appearing across various districts, and the numbers show an upward trend..."
Lin Motian studied the document with a gloomy expression. His greatest fear had come true: with the appearance of pneumonic plague, the incidence and morbidity rates that had been trending toward stability—even slight decline—had shown a marked jump. The epidemic was rebounding.
Author's Note: Next update will be Section 11 of Volume 7—Liangguang Campaign.
(End of Chapter)