Chapter 1751 - The Chastity Hall
"Oh? So there's considerable profit to be squeezed from this place." Liu San nodded knowingly.
"I wouldn't presume to say considerable," Mao Xiuyu replied, his eyes narrowing with a sly grin. "But take the most recent Director Dong the Fifth—when he first arrived, he looked no different from the paupers lodged here. Within two or three years, he'd built a house and purchased land back in his home village. And right here in Guangzhou, he'd bought another property to keep a mistress."
Liu San ran the figures silently. With 2,165 inmates, each entitled to three dou of rice and forty-five wen per month, the monthly outlay came to 6,495 dou of unhusked rice and 97,425 wen in copper cash. At Guangzhou's prevailing market prices, six hundred fifty shi of grain was worth nearly seven hundred taels of silver; add the copper, and Puji Hall's monthly expenditure approached nine hundred taels—over ten thousand taels annually.
Then he recalled the fundamental truth: full allocations were never actually disbursed. "Three parts fat on every transaction" was the iron rule. "How much actually reaches the Hall?"
"Truly, my lord, you understand these matters!" Mao Xiuyu laughed. "By custom, only three-tenths."
A savage cut, Liu San thought. He pressed on: "Tell me honestly—how much do the people lodged here actually receive each month?"
Though Mao Xiuyu's face remained wreathed in smiles, he licked his lips nervously before answering. "Well, as long as they're not too ill to walk, everyone in the institution goes out to beg on the streets..."
"So in truth they receive nothing?"
"I wouldn't say nothing, my lord. The old and infirm who can't get about—the Hall still gives them a bowl of gruel. On rainy days when no one can go out, the Hall provides meals. As for the widows in the Chastity Hall—they cannot show their faces in public—they survive by weaving and raising chickens, and the Hall subsidizes them a pittance." Mao Xiuyu's grin had faded. His voice dropped to a murmur.
"And how much do you receive each month?" Liu San asked.
"There's a fixed quota," Mao Xiuyu replied. "All workers here receive two dou of rice and three hundred wen per month."
"No side income?" Liu San smiled.
Mao Xiuyu shot him a nervous glance and forced a chuckle. "To claim there's none—you wouldn't believe me, my lord. But it's quite limited. Like floodwater spreading across flat ground—just enough to dampen the surface."
"How many workers are employed here?"
"Over a hundred in all. I've never seen the roster myself, so I dare not speak rashly..."
"Where are they?"
"The handful that Master Dong brought with him all fled when he did. The others—I myself have never laid eyes on them. Seven or eight remain on the premises to look after things."
"If you work here, how could you never have seen them?" Liu San was puzzled.
"It's as you surmise, my lord," Mao Xiuyu explained. "They've all been placed here by men with tall gate-posts and broad thresholds. The prefect and magistrate couldn't refuse; the names were entered in the register, and each draws a bit of pay."
So only thirty percent of the funds arrived at the Hall; over a hundred phantom employees drew wages for work they never performed; and a director who "bought houses, acquired land, and kept a mistress" embezzled whatever remained. Precious little reached the inmates. No wonder Puji Hall lay in such shambles, its residents indistinguishable from the city's beggars—they were beggars.
Liu San had dealt with traditional society for years, procuring and trading medicines, practicing his craft across the countryside. He was long inured to its extreme corruption and darkness. He suspected the roster of 2,165 inmates was at least half inflated with phantom names. "Are the Hall's roster and account books still here?"
"Well... they're in Secretary Gao's hands."
Liu San wondered how yet another "Secretary Gao" had suddenly materialized. "Who is Secretary Gao?"
"He's the Hall's bookkeeper—Gao Bohai by name. He doesn't come here often." Mao Xiuyu lowered his voice cautiously. "The roster and ledgers are in his keeping."
Liu San deduced that this Secretary Gao must be another hidden power behind Puji Hall's operations. A few more questions revealed that Secretary Gao had been "placed here" by a local member of the gentry and had served as the Hall's bookkeeper for over a decade.
Liu San noticed that Mao Xiuyu's eyes flickered and his speech faltered whenever Secretary Gao's name arose—clearly there was more to this story. So he coaxed him with leading questions and hinted that the directorship might fall to him. Under the prevailing atmosphere of "the dynastic winds have shifted," Mao Xiuyu finally divulged several crucial details.
In truth, Secretary Gao was the man who truly controlled Puji Hall; all administration flowed through his hands, much as a magistrate's power really resided with his Revenue Clerk. Directors came and went with each successive prefect, but Secretary Gao remained as though rooted to the earth. Whenever a new director took office, his first order of business was to curry favor with Secretary Gao; otherwise, within months, enormous deficits would mysteriously appear. Should the inmates take to the streets and accost provincial officials with their grievances, even the prefect's own son couldn't survive as director.
"Directors are here to make their fortunes and enjoy themselves under the protection of the authorities—how many would bother squatting on this graveyard mountain doing actual work? As long as they're never short of cash, they're content."
But Secretary Gao possessed no "fish-scale register" or similar instrument to hold the director in check; his power derived entirely from the gentry member who had recommended him—one "Charitable Zhen."
Charitable Zhen's true name was Zhen Gaizheng. He owned vast tracts of farmland and forest north of Guangzhou, wielded both wealth and influence, and was renowned for his philanthropic works—repairing bridges and roads, burying roadside corpses, distributing gruel to the hungry. He had even donated several charity burial plots. His reputation both within and beyond the city walls was considerable, and he was hailed as a true "local worthy."
Liu San nodded thoughtfully, then lowered his voice. "Level with me: how many people does Puji Hall actually shelter?"
Mao Xiuyu stammered, "Probably... probably four or five hundred... the exact number, I myself couldn't say." He explained that the Chastity Hall housed somewhat over a hundred impoverished widows and several dozen children; since they seldom ventured out, he knew the rough figures. The others came and went as they pleased—anyone bearing a Puji Hall waist-token was counted as an inmate. Over the years, many tokens no longer corresponded to any living person.
"...Even if there were a roster, the true number would remain unknown. The register hasn't been updated in years."
Liu San thought: a single institution, and already these murky depths. But untangling that was Lin Baiguang's responsibility. His own concern was the sanitary conditions here. "Take me on a tour of the grounds."
"The place hasn't been swept in years; it's filthy beyond description..."
"That's quite all right."
"Yes, yes." Mao Xiuyu thought these Australians truly peculiar—what was there to see in a broken-down temple full of rubble and refuse? Were it not for the prospect of a few extra silver coins, he wouldn't have lingered here a single moment.
So he led the way. From behind the Great Hall of the Buddha, a straight path of level flagstones extended toward a pagoda at the rear. On either side, weeds flourished unchecked. Shattered brick and smashed tile littered the ground, and tall mugwort sprouted between the cracks in the paving stones.
Huanghua Temple covered a vast expanse, with hall after hall stretching into the distance. Though long neglected and now reduced to shambles, many buildings still stood—most with doors and windows gaping open, courtyards choked with grass taller than a man, utterly forsaken. Dust had accumulated in thick layers inside the shrines and upon the altars; the tracks of rats scuttling across floors and daises were plainly visible.
Here and there were signs of habitation—ragged clothes, a chipped bowl, a cracked earthenware pot, a tattered straw mat worn down to its rush core. But most inhabitants were absent; only the sick and crippled remained. According to Mao Xiuyu, everyone capable of walking went out to beg. Whether they returned at night was uncertain—some vanished for months at a time.
"When the monsoon season arrives and rain falls frequently, more of them come back. And in winter, when the cold turns bitter, fewer venture out."
Mao Xiuyu led him to the entrance of a courtyard. Liu San noticed that the gate was securely locked. Curious, he wondered why. Mao Xiuyu stepped up to the gate and called out: "Fifth Sister-in-Law!"
A middle-aged woman emerged, somewhere in her thirties, with sharp, angular features. Seeing that Mao Xiuyu had brought some "Australian" visitors, she started in surprise, then instantly rearranged her expression into one of fawning deference. Hurrying down the steps, she knelt before Liu San and kowtowed:
"This servant is of the Sun Fifth household. I pay respects to the lord."
"And you are—?"
"This servant is a government matchmaker, tasked with overseeing the Chastity Hall."
In Ming and Qing local yamen, official matchmakers were assigned to any case involving women; they were responsible for minding and guarding female persons—in effect, the female counterpart to yamen runners.
Liu San observed her brisk manner and shrewd eyes; he recognized at once that she was a formidable and sharp-tongued woman.
Upon hearing that Liu San was an Australian "Chief" come to conduct an inspection, Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun grew even more solicitous. She hastily fetched a key and unlocked the courtyard gate.
Liu San was puzzled. "It's broad daylight—why keep the gate locked?"
"All who dwell here are impoverished widows preserving their chastity. Though this place is remote, men still come and go. With the gate locked, no gossip from outside enters, and none from inside escapes. It spares everyone much rumor and slander." Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun chattered on. "For a widow to uphold her virtue, the first principle is to avoid even the appearance of impropriety!"
She explained that men were strictly forbidden to enter under ordinary circumstances; even visiting relatives could meet only at the gate. If a widow had brought children with her, any son reaching age seven was required to move out.
"This is the strictest of places. In nearly a hundred years since its founding, there has never been a single scandal, nor a single remarriage." Pride was evident in Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun's voice.
Liu San observed that the Chastity Hall had been converted from a monks' dormitory. Around the perimeter stood the former cells of the sangha, now in disrepair but patched up with salvaged brick and broken tile; inside, the quarters were far cleaner and more orderly than elsewhere in the complex. The courtyard's paving bricks had been dug up and the ground planted with various vegetables. A few chickens strolled about at leisure.
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun explained that the widows supported themselves primarily through weaving cloth and silk. The courtyard boasted over thirty looms. Between their vegetable gardens and their chickens, they could sustain themselves.
"But don't they receive any money or grain?"
"They do! They do!" Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun answered rapidly, though she kept glancing toward Mao Xiuyu. Mao Xiuyu said irritably, "Just tell him the truth, Fifth Sister-in-Law. The dynasty has changed—no need for all those old scruples!"
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun hastened to compose her expression. "They do receive money and grain—but only one dou per month. Those with children get an extra three sheng..."
"Only one dou?" Liu San frowned.
"My lord is perceptive! Even that single dou doesn't always arrive on time." Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun sighed. "We depend entirely on the charity of the madams and young mistresses from the great houses in the city, who send servants now and again to bestow alms. Otherwise, truly, there would be no way to survive!"
(End of Chapter)