Chapter 2622: Li Family Enclosure

Zhu Shilian and Mao Yuanyi arrived at the workshop—a spacious brick-and-tile building divided into sections for nitre refining, sulfur refining, and medicine mixing.

In the Nitre Refining Workshop, a young man named Mao Shiba was instructing the Zhu clan's children. "The nitre quality in this batch is slightly inferior. Add five more egg whites." Mao Shiba had been born a servant in Mao Yuanyi's household and had studied under his master's guidance since childhood. He was exceptionally skilled in gunpowder production.

The other workers poured rough nitre into an iron pot, spreading it flat to half-fill the vessel. They added egg whites and worked the mixture evenly by hand before slowly incorporating water—spring water, river water, pond water, or sweet well water only. After transferring the mixture to another pot, they brought it to a rolling boil over high heat, stirring constantly. They skimmed off impurities and foam with a fine-meshed bamboo basket, then stirred and boiled again before adding plant ash water. Finally, they dipped a grass stalk into the nitre solution and let a drop fall onto a fingernail, judging whether the huo hou—the critical moment of readiness—had arrived by observing the bead's shape.

The boiled nitre solution was filtered through two layers of grass linen into a large glazed ceramic vat. Within three to five days, xiao ya—nitre teeth—would crystallize. Once harvested, these crystals were dried in tree shade, ground fine, and sifted through silk for later use. Even the mother liquor was saved; it still contained extractable nitre.

In the Medicine Mixing Workshop, all production tools and equipment were fashioned from wood, stone, or copper. Iron was strictly forbidden to prevent sparks and accidents. Fire was also prohibited indoors, so all work took place during daylight hours. At present, however, the workshop was not mixing medicine—only grinding and processing the three main raw materials, which were stored separately to minimize risk before use.

Ming Dynasty gunpowder formulas varied according to their intended purpose, falling broadly into categories of propellant, explosive, and signal medicine. Propellants were further divided into rocket powder, gun powder, and cannon powder. Explosives included hand cannon powder, landmine powder, and naval mine powder. The ratios differed for each type. The Bureau of Armaments and the Bureau of Weaponry established these ratio standards and issued them to arsenals as military secrets, never disclosed to the public. Consequently, the formulas listed in private military treatises could serve as references but were not necessarily accurate. Beyond ingredient ratios, gunpowder for different purposes also required different particle sizes and densities—a complex science. Without guidance from true experts, what private individuals produced might accomplish nothing more than setting off fireworks.

To test the gunpowder's performance, Mao Yuanyi had arranged to mix a small batch of finished product. To prevent combustion and explosion, the raw materials first had to be moistened with wine, then ground into a fine paste and pounded ten thousand times before being shaped into granules the size of kidney beans.

Mao Yuanyi took a pinch of the finished product from the mixing groove and placed it in his palm. Walking outdoors, he explained to Zhu Shilian: "Gunpowder must be burned in the palm—it passes muster only if no heat is felt. If it burns hot, pound it again and test once more. I have four lines of verse on this: 'In mixing medicine, refinement cannot be overdone; in grinding medicine, fineness cannot be excessive; pounding can never be too much; building emptiness is the greatest taboo.' If the medicine is refined properly, less accomplishes more. Both excess and deficiency upset the balance; using it in proper measure achieves harmony."

With that, the medicine granules ignited with a sharp boom in Mao Yuanyi's palm and vanished instantly, leaving only a wisp of green smoke.

"Brother Shimin's talent is remarkable," Zhu Shilian praised. "This powder rivals what the bandit thieves possess."

Mao Yuanyi grew serious. "Gunpowder is meant to harm our enemies. But if stored improperly and it accidentally causes self-injury, the harm is far greater. Without proper storage methods, tragedies like the repeated disasters at Wanggong Factory, the Helmet and Armor Factory, and Anmin Factory in the capital serve as grim reminders. The core principle of powder storage is avoiding fire. It cannot share quarters with manufacturing, cannot be near populated areas, and must never be hidden in deep pits. Since our operation requires secrecy, we should store the gunpowder using Western methods. Rather than mixing complete batches, we refine and grind each component separately, storing them for assembly when needed. When the time comes, we can use connected mortars and gather workers to pound everything together. It can be completed in a single day—no need to worry about delays."

After inspecting the gunpowder manufacturing site, Zhu Shilian returned to the Zhu residence. Zhu Bolian was already seated in the main hall, along with Zhu Zhonglian, Zhu Shulian, Zhu Jilian, Zhu Huilian, and the other principal members of the Zhu clan.

Zhu Bolian's expression was troubled. "Disaster is coming. The bandit thieves used to exercise loose control over the countryside, which allowed us to achieve what we have. But judging from the bogus Magistrate's actions, it appears they intend to build a town in this township. This bodes ill. If the bandits discover what our clan has been doing, we'll be exterminated. Brothers, we must relocate the gunpowder workshops and equipment immediately. We must not beat the grass and startle the snake."

"Elder Brother, what exactly is the bogus Magistrate's purpose here?" Zhu Huilian asked.

"Schools," Zhu Bolian replied. "Fish Fry factories. Silkworm Seed factories. Mulberry Seedling factories."

"What?" The others found this incomprehensible. Schools they could understand, but what on earth were Fish Fry factories, Silkworm Seed factories, and Mulberry Seedling factories?

Zhu Bolian recounted everything he had seen and heard. The others listened in stunned silence. Yet given the reputation the bandit thieves had cultivated, they had no choice but to believe him. If so many industries were to be established, a substantial settlement would rise on Jiujiang's territory before long. This spelled serious trouble.

Quiet river water meandered past Li Family Enclosure. Since the bandit thieves had occupied Guangzhou Prefecture, fewer boats sailed these waters. Before long, they had taken Zhaoqing as well, and rumors swept through the village that the bandits meant to fight their way to Beijing and claim the Dragon Throne.

The village elders laughed it off. Years ago, when bandit warships had stormed into the Pearl River Estuary and burned Wuyang Post Station, similar talk had circulated. The district's Great Excellency had ordered villages to form militias and recruit braves. For a time, every village bristled with tension—especially after the local militia ventured out to reinforce other forces and suffered a crushing defeat, leaving everyone jumping at shadows, hearing enemies in every rustle of wind and cry of crane.

Fortunately, word soon arrived that the bandits had withdrawn. The old men all said what they'd always said: since ancient times, dynasties were won on horseback. Who had ever heard of winning the realm from the deck of a ship?

With the bandits' retreat, the rumors faded to nothing. Then, unexpectedly, two years ago the bandits suddenly seized Guangzhou Prefecture City. But instead of looting, they divided their forces and launched campaigns to capture cities and territories everywhere. Wherever they went, officials and garrison troops either surrendered or fled. Before long, the bandits emerged under a new banner, styling themselves "Great Song" and claiming dominion over all under heaven.

How bandit thieves had transformed into "Great Song" was beyond anyone in the village to fathom. But everyone knew the bandits were Australians—that much was common knowledge. After all, Australian goods were excellent. Matches, kerosene lamps, "Australian Paper"—villagers used them all.

Whether one called them bandit thieves, Australians, or "Great Song," they had originally been nothing more than a group of merchants sailing large ships to conduct trade. In common eyes, they seemed much the same as the Red Hairs or the Franks, just different in appearance. That they had conquered the Two Guangs in a matter of years and now openly raised the imperial banner—this was rather difficult to process. Before long, stories spread of the bandits casting demon magic to capture human souls. Li Family Enclosure fell into a state of anxious uncertainty. Anyone who went to market brought back fresh rumors: some spoke well of the Australians, while others insisted the bandits were man-eating demons. The contrast was so extreme that ordinary people had no way to adapt.

As Australian rule deepened across Guangdong, the common folk gradually grew accustomed to their new rulers. Generally speaking, the Australians did not disturb the villagers' established way of life. The Magistrate had changed; "Police" now patrolled the markets; lawsuits no longer meant visiting the county yamen but attending "Circuit Court" sessions held on fixed days each month. Beyond these changes, everything remained as before. Gentry and commoners alike continued living their good or bad days according to old customs—at least on the surface.

Yet changes crept in gradually. After last autumn's tax collection, many Australian "Cadres" suddenly arrived from the county seat. Most were very young—mere "children"—each carrying a cloth bag, wearing a cap, and wielding tape measures and strange three-legged wooden instruments as they tramped noisily through the countryside taking measurements. They were followed by the old "Household Clerks" retained from the previous administration, who carried what had once been called "Fish Scale Books" but were now termed "Agricultural Real Estate Registers." Other workers set up drawing boards at field edges, sketching the landscape on the spot.

Anyone in the village who owned land was summoned for questioning—those with deeds, those without, landlords and tenant farmers alike. Not one was spared; it was like being hauled into court. Notices appeared throughout the village explaining that this was called "Clarifying Fields and Acres." Land deeds issued under the Great Ming all had to be resurveyed for "Great Song." Those with land disputes or missing deeds could have matters investigated and new documents issued on the spot. Those whose lands had been illegally seized could file reports then and there.

For a time, Li Family Enclosure boiled like water in a kettle. Despite its name, the enclosure was not a single-surname village belonging solely to the Li family. The Lis had long exploited their status as the dominant surname to seize sand fields reclaimed by smaller clans and to appropriate public lands and wastelands as their own. Once the Australian "Clarifying Fields and Acres" campaign began, the smaller surnames seized their chance for redress. Though no one came forward publicly to accuse the Lis, secret reports flew like snowflakes. When the surveying concluded, the Li family had lost a fifth of their holdings. Six members were arrested for "historical crimes"—some sentenced to exile, others fined.

The Li family's arrogance was dealt a heavy blow; the smaller surnames were greatly emboldened. Still, the Lis remained numerous and powerful. Though chastened, they continued to dominate the enclosure's affairs—just no longer with their former tyranny.

The fields had now passed through proper channels. Though taxes still followed Great Ming's old rates, at least they were assessed fairly. Families with more or better land paid more; those with less or poorer land paid less. No longer did the poor pay taxes meant for the rich, nor did mysterious "Additional Levies" materialize whenever grain runners touched upper lip to lower lip. In the eyes of ordinary people, this was the simplest and clearest form of justice. The residents of Li Family Enclosure, who had once looked down on these seaborne bandit thieves, now felt a measure of admiration. Such methods! Such capability! Matters that previous governments couldn't sort out in decades or even centuries, the Australians had resolved as soon as they arrived. The old men nodded and said, "This is the new dynasty's fresh vigor." Naturally, some who considered themselves more perceptive observed that this was simply because the Australians were newcomers—handling affairs without entanglements or vested interests, free to be so clear and bright. Who knew what the future would bring?

Even more people said that regardless of whether the Australians possessed genuine ability or merely benefited from being a new regime, who would ultimately claim the deer of this realm remained uncertain. The Great Ming's Son of Heaven still sat upon his throne in the capital. These bandit thieves merely occupied a corner of the empire.

(End of Chapter)