Chapter 1105 - The New Jeju (Part 2)
"Yes," Xue Ziliang nodded. "Feng Zongze has already sent people to notify all the villages and stockades, summoning them to Jeju City for a grand assembly in the next few days."
"Will they come?"
"The vast majority will. They have no reason to openly defy us—first, we haven't done anything to harm these local elites' interests so far," Xue Ziliang explained. "Second, they're eager to learn what we intend to do, so they can formulate countermeasures."
Xue Ziliang elaborated on their reconnaissance of the entire island. In his view, Jeju's social conditions resembled those of Hainan Island, which he had crisscrossed with his Special Reconnaissance Team. The government possessed a degree of influence, but actual governing power was weak. Beyond the three cities and nine towns, the countryside was the local gentry's domain. They occupied vast tracts of mountain land and pastures, commanded many dependent commoners, often built fortified stockades for self-defense, and maintained their own militia forces.
As long as their core interests weren't touched, these people didn't particularly care who sat on the throne. So far, there had been virtually no resistance from the civilian population. The handful of armed clashes that had occurred were mostly due to locals who hadn't yet experienced the "Dwarf-Crop-Heads'" might, attempting to rob outsiders.
"Apart from the coastal areas, the interior is mostly mountainous—grazing land and forests. The mountain lords wield considerable power, rather like nineteenth-century Mexican ranchers," Xue Ziliang observed. "Very obedient to the Yi Court, and very obedient to us too."
Though the Yi Court's overall structure gave off a "Little China" impression—visiting Hanseong felt almost like being in the Ming capital—in reality, local power in the Yi kingdom was very strong, and the court's control over the provinces was far weaker than the Ming's. The two Japanese invasions, during which various regions organized righteous armies, had reinforced this tendency. The yangban aristocracy in the provinces were practically feudal lords; the common people were severely oppressed, their status approaching that of serfs.
After hearing Xue Ziliang's briefing, Zhu Mingxia had a general picture. But the specifics of the next phase would have to wait until Feng Zongze and Nangong Wudi returned for discussion.
"These working conditions are terrible," Feng Zongze grumbled, surveying the smoke-blackened rafters. "The smell is unbearable."
Feng Zongze was inspecting Myeongjeok Workshop. He was keenly interested in Jeju Island's next stage of development: beyond supplying horses to the Committee, with the habitual thinking of a twenty-first-century Chinese, he had rapidly initiated commercial activities, seeking opportunities to expand foreign trade.
Relying entirely on central allocation of supplies was simply too slow for a local administration thousands of li away. Especially now, with Jeju Island in the midst of a construction boom requiring vast quantities of materials. Feng Zongze and his colleagues decided that rather than waiting for supplies to be shipped from Hong Kong across thousands of li, it was better to procure materials locally. He had already submitted this proposal to the Executive Committee and received approval from the Colonization and Trade Department.
Jeju Island's major products were few—primarily cattle and horses, bows and arrows, and marine catch. Since cattle and horses were strictly controlled by the Committee and seafood was a vital food source, bow and arrow production became the most suitable major export commodity.
From the moment they had captured the three cities and nine towns and begun establishing their rule, Feng Zongze had started working to restore and expand the archery industry. Due to a shortage of management personnel and unfamiliarity with local conditions and bow-making techniques, he had ultimately decided to contract all the official bow workshops to the local Myeongjeok Workshop archery shop.
Although authorization for trade with the Northeast hadn't come through yet, Feng Zongze took great interest in expanding arrow production and improving quality. Though he didn't interfere with day-to-day operations, he had begun mandating some simple new processes and quality controls across the various shops, while importing specialized equipment from Lingao.
What Feng Zongze found so oppressive were the dozen or so cauldrons currently simmering fish glue, emitting a nauseating stench. The glue-rendering process and equipment had just been rebuilt under the guidance of naturalized technicians. The crude fire pits and large pots previously used for boiling glue had been replaced with water-bath tanks built of cement and brick, using a more thermally efficient centralized flue heating system. The specialized glue kettles sat within the water baths for heating. This not only saved fuel but also solved the persistent problem of scorched glue that had plagued the workers. No longer did craftsmen have to watch the kettles every moment, adjusting the fire by adding or removing fuel.
Watching the Korean craftsmen busily working inside the workshop—apparently oblivious to the glue's reek—Feng Zongze noted that Korean-style buildings, designed for insulation and material economy, were typically built low and cramped. This "glue rendering workshop" was no exception. The confined space intensified the concentration of fumes, leaving Feng Zongze dizzy and light-headed.
"Your Excellency, this way please." Pak Deokhwan, observing his discomfort, quickly ushered him out to the courtyard for fresh air.
"This workshop needs to be rebuilt. It's too foul! How do the craftsmen stand it!" Feng Zongze grumbled as he hurried out into the yard.
"Your Excellency is right," Pak Deokhwan agreed. "I—no, this humble servant will instruct Shopkeeper Zhao to see to it at once."
"Never mind," Feng Zongze thought. He shouldn't create any more new projects for now. The recent "improvements" had been numerous, and Shopkeeper Zhao was already complaining. Though the Forward Command covered all equipment costs for changes involving machinery—equipment and installation were borne by the Committee—the workshops still had considerable expenses. Issues like worker safety could wait.
In the courtyard, a column of "Labor Service Team" workers pushing Shiden-kai and Shimpū handcarts was unloading heavy standardized crates. Each crate was stenciled with its weight and bore different arrowhead symbols. Every box had to be opened for inspection and weighed. This was the second improvement Feng Zongze had spearheaded: standardized arrowheads.
Feng Zongze had examined the locally-manufactured arrows. The arrowheads were all forged by Jeju's own blacksmith shops—crudely made and inconsistent. During assembly, arrow shafts had to be filed and fitted by hand before the heads could be mounted, making the process inefficient. So Feng Zongze had immediately introduced standardized arrowheads.
The current standardized arrowheads were manufactured in Lingao. The Machinery Works engineers had developed several types for different purposes based on modern archery research, then standardized mass production. In the eyes of Zhan Wuya and his colleagues, these were essentially small hardware items—once molds were made, stamping equipment could produce them continuously in bulk. It saved both labor and materials.
Once the Lingao-manufactured standard arrowheads arrived on the island, they immediately replaced local production. Even without administrative mandates, the transition was simple: the craftsmen had never seen arrowheads of such fine workmanship. The filing time during assembly was dramatically reduced. Since arrowheads had always been purchased from outside anyway, this was merely switching suppliers—and the new supplier's prices weren't higher. Mass-produced small hardware had minimal costs; in fact, Feng Zongze still turned a profit on arrowhead sales.
Yet Feng Zongze remained unsatisfied. During inspections, he noticed craftsmen still had to file arrowheads during assembly. The problem was that while arrowheads had been standardized, the matching shafts were still handmade. The tolerances were so wide they could be spotted with the naked eye.
Looks like the next step is introducing an arrow shaft lathe, he thought, recalling similar equipment he'd seen at Hai Lin's place—originally for making chopsticks and bamboo skewers. It had started as hand-cranked, later converted to steam power. Feed the prepared wood or bamboo into the hopper, and the rotating blades automatically turned them into identical little rods. Adjusting the blade settings could produce different diameters.
Steam power wasn't available here yet, but hand-cranking would suffice. It occurred to Feng Zongze that the island had adequate water sources—perhaps he could build a dam for energy storage to power a water wheel. Or maybe set up a windmill.
Finished arrows were coated with fish oil on the heads for rust prevention, then wrapped in paper bundles of twelve, with ten bundles packed into a shipping crate ready for sale. Current weekly arrow output across all the workshops was twenty thousand—too few, in Feng Zongze's view. Arrows were consumables; for the war-plagued Ming and Qing, a hundred thousand per month might not suffice.
Production efficiency was still too low. Even a management layman like him could see the workshops had many areas for improvement.
To ensure his various improvements were implemented and to oversee the current "controlled distribution" of archery materials, he had appointed Pak Deokhwan as "Archery Superintendent," specifically responsible for coordinating between the Jeju Forward Command and the archery industry and for various improvement projects.
Since his own workload was heavy, he could only settle for this crude management model. The advantage of keeping the archery industry under government supervision with private operation was that they didn't have to bear the workshops' expenses or risks. Feng Zongze's requirements were simple: surrender one-fifth of total output as contract fees and taxes. No other levies would apply.
Though taking only one-fifth of production, Feng Zongze had already secured control of the island's major ports. Through export licensing, he controlled the export trade. Other workshops' bows and arrows, unless smuggled out, could only be shipped through Chocheon Port for export.
Currently, Huang Yunyu handled arrow exports. As the peninsula trading consortium's agent, he had natural sales channels. So for now, Jeju-made bows and arrows were exported through his network. To support the industry, no export duties were levied temporarily.
To capture greater profits, Feng Zongze was already planning to eventually establish a foreign trade company to monopolize all of Jeju Island's imports and exports, reducing the archery workshops and shops to mere production and domestic distribution enterprises.
The inspection complete, Feng Zongze proceeded to Pak Deokhwan's "Archery Industry Superintendency" office—located in a nearby shop.
(End of Chapter)