Chapter 175: The Assembly (Part 2)

The receptionist also gave Fu Buer a stack of meal tickets and told him he could use them to eat at designated restaurants. A wave of warmth washed over Fu Buer. These Kun people were so thoughtful and considerate. Compared to the county yamen’s grain collection, it was like heaven and earth.

After putting down his luggage, his houseboy wanted to wander around the market, and Fu Buer also wanted to do some sightseeing. So he locked the door and went out. Each room here had a padlock. You just had to lock the door when you went out and leave the key at the counter.

The area of East Gate Market had doubled since before the New Year. The original plan was to extend 300 meters westward from the outer moat of Bairen City’s east gate. Now, East Gate Street had been completed according to the plan, and the first cross street had also been extended 30 meters to the north and south. The houses on the cross street were all built in batches and rented out to merchants at low prices. Because of the low prices, it was even more popular than the main street. Itinerant vendors continued to set up stalls in the open spaces on both sides of the street, and Dongmen Chuiyu did not interfere.

As the two of them walked along the street, they found everything novel. There were many people on the street, but the road was clean and tidy, and there were rows of small trees planted on both sides—it would be comfortable when they grew up and provided shade. Fu Buer had been to the county town. Even on the main street in front of the county yamen, there was sewage, mud puddles, and piles of garbage everywhere. In the more secluded corners and narrow alleys, there was human and animal excrement everywhere, and the stench was overwhelming.

However, he soon discovered the secret here. There was a large rattan basket every ten zhang or so on the street, and pedestrians threw their garbage into it. There were also several dedicated cleaners, wearing uniform blue coarse cloth gowns and holding large bamboo brooms, constantly cleaning the road. On closer inspection, they were all women from the countryside.

Fu Buer was both amazed and impressed. Who had come up with such a good idea? Not to mention in this bustling market, even in their own village, where everyone was of the same clan, they couldn’t manage it like this.

Compared to the curious houseboy who was looking around, Fu Buer’s mind was a little more flexible. He was slightly different from other landlords who only knew how to make a living from the land and squeeze money from their long-term laborers and tenants. He knew that there was no great future in farming alone, and he couldn’t curry favor with the government. The only way to get rich was to do business. But he had never done business before and didn’t know the trade, so he didn’t dare to try it rashly. This time, after strolling around East Gate Market, he felt that the opportunities here should be good. So he kept his eyes on the largest shops to see what kind of goods were selling well.

As he was watching, he heard a commotion ahead, and the crowd gathered around. It was a traditional virtue of the Chinese nation to love a good spectacle, and Fu Buer was no exception. He saw that someone was arguing in front. One of them was probably a peddler, and the other was wearing a rattan hat and a short-hair style black stand-up collar jacket with wooden buttons, a wide leather belt around his waist, white leggings on his calves, and straw sandals on his feet. A short wooden stick with a short horizontal handle hung from his hip. There was also a shield-like embroidered cloth on his sleeve, with some incomprehensible patterns and words.

The strangely dressed person said, “From the first day you set up your stall in East Gate Market, someone told you that you are not allowed to litter here, and you are certainly not allowed to relieve yourself anywhere you please. There are toilets along the street, yet you still relieved yourself on the ground. What crime have you committed?!”

The peddler repeatedly begged for mercy, saying that it was because he had diarrhea and couldn’t wait to get to the toilet, so he had to relieve himself in the corner. He hoped that the police master would be lenient.

But the policeman was not lenient and insisted on a fine of twenty wen or ten cents. Some people in the crowd sympathized with the peddler and inevitably jeered. The peddler bowed and begged, saying that he really had no money. The policeman said, “Since you have no money to pay the fine, you will clean the streets for three days according to the provisions of the Public Security Law.”

The peddler then said he was willing to accept the punishment, and the matter was settled. Fu Buer found it interesting and suddenly realized that this policeman was actually Ma Peng. This guy was doing well with the “Kun people,” having become a “policeman”—probably a figure similar to the three classes of runners in the yamen. Fu Buer wanted to strike up a friendship with him, so he called out:

“Old Ma!”

Ma Peng was taking the peddler to the sanitation station to report—this was the third person he had caught relieving himself in public this week. This week was the “Environmental Sanitation Rectification Week” initiated by Director Dugu. Hearing someone call him, he looked for the source of the voice and saw that it was his former master. Although there was a class difference between Ma Peng and his master, and Fu Buer had not shown Ma Peng any particular kindness in the past, there was no enmity between them. After all, they had been in the short-hairs’ prisoner-of-war camp together, which fulfilled one of the three great bonds between men. Seeing each other again, there was a sense of joy at reuniting with an old acquaintance.

“Master Fu!”

“Are you working for the short-hairs?”

“That’s right, as a policeman.” Ma Peng, seeing Fu Buer looking at his attire, pulled his clothes a little self-consciously. “This is the uniform. You have to wear it for this job as a policeman.”

“You look as impressive as the short-hair masters.”

Ma Peng’s face turned red. “I can’t compare to them.” Seeing the card hanging on Fu Buer’s chest, he quickly changed the subject. “Is Master Fu also here for the meeting?”

“Yes, the short-hair masters want us to come to a meeting. Do you know anything about it?” Fu Buer quickly inquired.

“I don’t know about that. I’m just a constable, many levels below the short-hair masters,” he reprimanded the peddler. “Hurry up! Don’t dawdle.” Then he turned back. “Master, please wait a moment. I’ll take this person to the sanitation station and then talk to you.”

Fu Buer was now curious about everything, so he followed Ma Peng to the back of the cross street, where there was a separate courtyard. The courtyard was filled with the same kind of garbage baskets and several two-wheeled garbage carts that were on the street. Someone was there with an iron rake and shovel, sorting the garbage and loading it onto the carts.

“What are they sorting the garbage for?” Fu Buer asked. In his memory, the garbage in the village was just thrown into the ditch outside the village.

Ma Peng handed the unfortunate peddler over to a person at the sanitation station and completed the handover procedures. He said, “The paper and rags inside are sent to the paper mill. The dead branches and fallen leaves, mule and horse manure, and vegetable peels are all thrown into the biogas digester.”

“Biogas digester?”

“I don’t understand it either,” Ma Peng said. “It’s behind the public toilet. There’s a big covered pool. You just throw this garbage in. After a while, it will turn into fertilizer, and the people from the farm will come to haul it away.”

“Wouldn’t that stink to high heaven?” Fu Buer thought of the smell of the stinky ditch behind his village and frowned.

“Strangely enough, it doesn’t stink at all when they take it out,” Ma Peng said seriously. “They all say the chiefs have skills. The people who work on the farm all say that the fertilizer from these pits doesn’t stink and is very fertile. It’s good for growing anything.”

Fu Buer was a little skeptical. “Is it that magical?”

Ma Peng smiled. “When it comes to the chiefs’ farming skills, they are no worse than our local farmers. I’ve worked on the farm a few times, and I never thought that land could be farmed like that.”

Fu Buer immediately became interested. “How do they farm it?”

Ma Peng shook his head and smiled. “It’s no use asking me. You can’t learn the chiefs’ farming methods, master. Even the richest man here can’t learn it. There are too many things in it that I don’t recognize.”

Fu Buer pestered Ma Peng, asking him to take him to the farm and promising him benefits, but Ma Peng refused to budge. “I can’t help you with this, master. No one is allowed to enter the farm except the commune members. If I take you there, I’ll definitely lose my job. I might even lose my life.”

Hearing that looking at farming could cost him his life, Fu Buer’s interest waned a lot. Ma Peng smiled. “There are many fun places here. I can take you for a walk.”

“Aren’t you on duty?”

“It’s okay. The chiefs said we should be good hosts—that means taking good care of you. It’s also part of my duty to show you around.”

He then took him for a walk along the street. A large shop was being built along the street, with scaffolding set up and masons and plasterers going up and down.

“This is Boss Lin’s Quanfu Vegetable Shop. He used to be just a Hoklo who sold vegetables. He got rich by buying vegetables, pigs, chickens, and ducks for the chiefs. He’s built a house and even taken two concubines,” Ma Peng said with a look of envy on his face.

Fu Buer knew this person, Lin Quanfu—for the past few months, he had been going from village to village buying chickens, ducks, and live pigs for the short-hairs, and he had also come to Meiyang Village. At the time, Fu Buer had thought this person was reckless, openly siding with the short-hairs, but he didn’t expect him to have become so rich. He felt a little sour.

Walking past another five-bay wide storefront, many people were going in and out. “This is the Women’s Cooperative. It’s run by the chiefs’ families.”

“Female short-hairs running a shop?” Fu Buer was a little surprised.

“Yes, it’s run by a woman, and the clerks inside are all women. It’s considered a sight in East Gate Market. Many people come to see the spectacle,” Ma Peng said. “Master, would you like to go in and have a look? They have a full range of goods, and the prices are cheap!”

As soon as they reached the entrance, a middle-aged woman in a clean and neat blue cloth dress and skirt came up to them with a smile. “What would you like to buy, sir?”

Ma Peng smiled. “This is Master Fu Buer from Meiyang Village. He is a representative to the meeting and is just looking around.”

“A representative to the meeting? The lady boss said that all representatives to the meeting can enjoy a 5% discount with their representative card. And whether you buy anything or not, you get a free gift.” She then copied down a string of crooked patterns from the card on Fu Buer’s chest and had Fu Buer sign for it. Fu Buer couldn’t read, so he had to make a mark and received a coarse paper bag.

Opening the bag, he found a thick, soft, and fluffy cloth inside, with dense loops of thread like velvet on the surface. Judging by the size, it seemed to be a face towel. There was also a line of words woven in red thread on it: “In Commemoration of the First Lingao Political Consultative Conference.” The inscription read: “Respectfully Presented by the Lingao Women’s Cooperative, 1629.” Fu Buer couldn’t read the words and was afraid they were some kind of treasonous words. Ma Peng read them to him and explained their meaning. Fu Buer was very surprised that Ma Peng, a poor laborer, could also read.

“Ma Peng, didn’t you say you couldn’t read?”

“That was in the past. When you work for the chiefs here, you have to learn to read and recognize Arabic numerals,” Ma Peng said seriously. They had all received literacy training in batches. All the people who worked for the short-hair chiefs could count and recognize three or four hundred characters, and could read newspapers and notices.