Chapter 1816 - Mother-Daughter Heart-to-Heart

Li Ziyu quickly said: "I bought a few Shandong pancake wraps—stuffed with braised meat. Quite fragrant. Officer Lian, won't you try one?"

Lian Nishang glanced at the oil-paper-wrapped pancakes, frowning slightly: "Eating such strongly-scented food in the study room isn't quite appropriate. But thank you for the kind thought."

Li Ziyu then remembered that the chiefs typically emphasized not eating pungent foods in public spaces. He'd actually forgotten in his carelessness. Thinking better of it, he quickly stowed the pancakes away.

Watching Lian Nishang depart, Li Ziyu thought to himself: This young woman is genuinely difficult to deal with.

On Six Banyan Street, the bustling Dong Family Shop took down its banner. Dong Xiang latched the wooden boards over the entrance. Orchid wiped the tables and chairs clean. Both retreated to sleep. In the shop, only Dong Mingdang remained at the accounts desk, working the abacus to settle the day's books.

Her abacus skills weren't exactly polished—frequently punctuated by pauses. The clicking and clacking of beads echoed through the empty shop hall, rendering the late hour all the more quiet and lonely.

Auntie Jiang trimmed the candle wick. Feeling sorry for her daughter, she said: "It's late. Why not sleep? These accounts can wait until early morning."

"Early morning there'll be people delivering washed laundry for collection. I'll have to record it, issue tokens. So many things to manage. Where's the time for calculations?" Dong Mingdang rubbed her eyes. "Besides, our small business—settling accounts doesn't take long. Tomorrow I still need to help Orchid wash vegetables—everyone says Mother's pickles are delicious."

Auntie Jiang settled onto the table edge with a sigh: "Truly it's fate! In the past, you and I in the master's household—though we never had much standing—you were still pampered and carefree, wanting for nothing. Now running our own business, exposing ourselves to public view, is bad enough. And still having to perform such hard labor—Mother grieves for you, but it's no use."

"Mother, I actually find these days rather comfortable. What's so good about being someone's concubine? You served our master your entire life. Besides suffering, you suffered. Did even Father's principal wife, your senior, ever truly value you? Back then we were confined to three side rooms and hardly dared step out the door. Never mind seeing the master or the main house—even slightly senior maids and servants required us to bow and scrape. We swallowed who knows how much humiliation. When the master visited your room, the kitchen provided something decent. But skip him for ten days or half a month, and they'd send us leftovers to make do. All those New Year's new clothes—we received the fewest. I'm not his flesh and blood anyway—nothing to argue about. But you served him over a dozen years, even bore him children—though none survived—they still shouldn't have treated you like this. That Master Zhu—how are you so certain he would treat you better than our master? As I see it, men are all cut from the same cloth."

Auntie Jiang sighed again. Silent for a moment, she said: "Dangdang, I know your strong spirit. You want to make something of yourself. But you're a girl after all. And from a scholarly family too. Running this kind of business—firstly, it ruins your marriage prospects. What respectable family would seek your hand? Mother doesn't matter. I'm in my mid-thirties now. Wherever I mix, I'm just muddling along. Even suffering and groveling in service—I've grown too old to care. At least I could establish you in comfort. In a few years, marry you into a respectable household. Then Mother would have nothing more to fret about. Now running this small business: firstly, it damages your marriage prospects. Secondly, if some mishap causes it to fail—how would we even survive?"

Dong Mingdang laughed: "Mother, you worry too much. The dozen-plus years we've lived have been spent dependent on others. Setting aside resentment—this Master Zhu you mention—can you guarantee he'll keep you for your entire life? When we were at the Dong household, weren't you perpetually terrified? Every time the master didn't visit for a month or two, you feared he'd grown tired and would sweep us out the door? Watching others' expressions, treading on eggshells—none of that matters. And it's not as though I can't swallow my pride. But even if you study their faces and tread carefully, it might not end well. Better to support ourselves with our own hands—at least there's some certainty. As for this business, I still maintain: Guangzhou has money everywhere. It's simply a matter of whether we can gather it up. The Australians have arrived. The times are peaceful. Business flows more easily too."

Auntie Jiang wanted to say more, but thought better of it: "Mother is useless. You have vision and opinions. Have it your way then. Just remember your own status. Conducting business means showing your face—that's unavoidable. But maintain proper limits!"

Dong Mingdang gave an "I understand."

Auntie Jiang said primly: "It was wrong of you to personally hand those Lonicera flowers to that Li constable today. Should have had Orchid or Dong Xiang do it. And those painted flowers on the paper bag—you drew them? Though business requires cultivating officials, this goes too far. What if that Li constable gets ideas? If he sends a matchmaker—how do we respond? Say yes—it demeans you. Mother would grieve. He's merely a petty clerk, after all. Say no—and he might hold a grudge. These constables and runners—any of them decent people? Harming folk like us with neither roots nor connections—just a flick of the wrist."

Dong Mingdang said softly: "Mother, you're right. Your daughter was thoughtless. But in your daughter's view, Australian police aren't the same as Ming constables and runners. That Officer Li—judging by his past words and conduct, though somewhat dandyish like a young master, he's an upright person. It won't come to that. Even if the worst occurred, Prefect Liu's chamber maid has some friendship with your daughter. In an emergency, we could seek her help."

After leaving Guangxiao Temple, Dong Mingdang had prepared a gift of Guangzhou specialties and called upon Guo Xier—precisely to cultivate connections. Guo Xier knew no one in Guangzhou; beyond work, it was entirely work. Naturally she found this boring. Dong Mingdang's visit suited her perfectly. Sharp-witted and seasoned by great household politics, Dong Mingdang read people and knew what to say instinctively. Guo Xier possessed no such guile. A few exchanges and they became close friends, often visiting back and forth. This also served as an important pillar of Dong Mingdang's confidence in opening the shop.

Auntie Jiang said: "Just maintain proper limits! Depending on others is never as reliable as depending on yourself."

Dong Mingdang thought—now you say "depend on yourself"! She suppressed a laugh and lowered her head: "As you say, Mother."

Auntie Jiang rose: "I won't keep you from your work. When you're finished, go to bed soon." Her gaze was tender yet worried. "Don't wear yourself out."

"I know, Mother. I'll sleep shortly."

"And your foot-bindings—wrap them tightly before bed. I've noticed these past days they've grown loose. Your bound feet—I spent so much effort to shape them. If they loosen, all that work goes to waste."

Dong Mingdang had been secretly loosening her bindings for quite some time. She hadn't realized her mother's eyes remained so sharp. She could only answer: "Yes, your daughter understands."

The Great Song Guangzhou Special Municipal Police Bureau's Public Security Section was perpetually bustling. All the individuals arrested by patrol officers and National Army soldiers flowed in constantly. The converted yamen hall serving as office space was often packed to bursting, voices clamoring in chaos.

Though both the National Army and Bopo Army—two powerful armed forces—were stationed in Guangzhou to maintain order, in this era where Ming legal authority had crumbled yet Elder Council prestige had not yet fully illuminated the land, plenty still sought to fish in troubled waters. During the first month, serious cases had proliferated. After several months of "severe crackdowns," murderers and robbers had declined dramatically. Replacing them were floods of petty offenses: fraud, theft, pickpocketing, extortion, brawling, property damage, sanitary violations... These weren't sudden explosions of new criminality in Guangzhou but rather consequences of changed enforcement: under Ming law, some hadn't qualified as offenses; others were things citizens had accepted as normal but now counted as minor public order cases. Naturally the numbers surged.

Li Ziyu's principal duty in Public Security was processing the individuals patrol officers delivered. Some had urinated or defecated in the streets. Some had fought. Some were neighborhood disputes... Certain suspects who in former times might have received "deterrent beatings" couldn't now—police bureau regulations forbade caning. Someone else handled that aspect.

"Ah Gui, take these two to the back and 'hang them up.' Let them cool off first, then transfer them to the public order court."

Li Ziyu handed two youths who'd beaten a vegetable farmer outside the city and robbed his produce to Ah Gui. In the holding cells at the rear, a horizontal bar was mounted to the wall. Those being "hung" were single-handcuffed to the bar, bodies not suspended, toes touching the ground. After half a day or a full day, some even lost bladder control. He was just about to fetch a drink of water when Zeng Juan appeared in the office, weeping.

"Brother Yu! You have to help me!"

His sudden entrance and cry drew every eye in the room. Li Ziyu was startled too. Examining Zeng Juan's appearance: hair disheveled, face criss-crossed with scratches, some already oozing blood. Clothes covered in mud, even torn with a visible rip.

Li Ziyu quickly approached: "Zeng Juan, what happened?! Did you get into a fight?" He gestured at Ah Gui: "Bring paper and pen! Take notes!"

"Mingnu!... Mingnu... Mingnu is gone! Wuwuwu... It must be that damned woman who sold her off... wuwuwu..."

(End of Chapter)