Chapter 188: The Small Merchants

Three days later, except for a few seriously injured people, everyone else, after simple treatment, went to the Customs building to wait for the Maritime Court’s decision on their property.

After the inexplicable commotion a few days ago, every merchant had some scratches on their face and hands. They all seemed very unnatural when they gathered again.

Chen Zhonghuan was extra careful this time and didn’t say a single unnecessary word. He just told everyone that they could go and retrieve their goods from the ship.

Ma Jia’s basic handling approach was that for all goods where the owner could be confirmed, a salvage fee of 20% of the total value of the rescued goods would be charged to each owner, in accordance with the principles of maritime salvage. For goods that were rescued but damaged by water, fire, or other forms, the value would be calculated based on their residual value.

For all goods whose ownership could not be confirmed, or where the owner was clear but had died or gone missing at sea, or where the goods were consigned to the shipowner for transport, they would be temporarily detained by the Maritime Court for processing, until someone could prove they were the owner of the goods within a specified period. If no one made a claim by the deadline, the goods would be confiscated by the Maritime Court.

For detained goods, a 20% salvage fee would also be charged upon their return to the owner. During the detention period, the Maritime Court had the right to dispose of all or part of the goods. If the owner could be confirmed, the payment for the goods would be made according to their value upon return—this was to facilitate the transmigrator group’s ability to use the seized goods at any time.

For ships rescued in a maritime disaster, a salvage fee of 20% of their residual value would also be charged. In addition, the shipowner had to pay for the repair and depreciation costs incurred during the rescue. The shipowner also had to pay for the food, lodging, and medical expenses of the sailors from the distressed vessel during their stay in Bopu. If the shipowner failed to handle the procedures by the deadline, the ship would be confiscated.

As for the deadline, Ma Jia set it at one year, considering the transportation conditions of this time and space.

During the detention period of the goods, the Bopu Maritime Court would only assume the most basic storage obligations and would not be responsible for preserving the value of the goods. A basic storage fee would be charged during the detention period.

No salvage fee would be charged for rescued personnel. However, the rescued personnel were responsible for their own food, lodging, and medical expenses during their stay in Bopu. These must be paid in full upon departure from Bopu, otherwise the court would detain them until the fees were paid. Those unable to pay could work off the debt with labor.

…

These various clauses were very detailed. Some of them would not fall under the jurisdiction of a maritime court in the modern era, but Ma Jia’s starting point was to bring all kinds of maritime discretionary powers under the Maritime Court, so he listed them all in detail.

However, these clauses caused a great uproar in the Executive Committee. Many people could accept returning the goods to the small merchants—to win the hearts of the people! But they had great objections to handing over the bulk cargo and the ship. This was, after all, won by the naval soldiers from the pirates at the risk of their lives, not to mention the large amount of ammunition and fuel the transmigrator group had spent in the battle. The cost of such a large ship was about two thousand taels of silver, and 20% was only four hundred taels, which couldn’t even cover the consumption of a single naval battle. Given the current situation in the Qiongzhou Strait, nine out of ten salvage operations would involve fighting pirates.

“To establish order and law in the Qiongzhou Strait, we cannot operate with such a profit-driven mindset!” Ma Jia said. “Everything has to be calculated in terms of money. We didn’t come to this time and space to earn countless silver taels, but to be the rule-makers of this world.”

Although in the short term, the transmigrator group’s actions in the Qiongzhou Strait would be at a loss, the long-term impact would be enormous. By setting rules and maintaining order, they would gradually establish the authority of the transmigrator group at sea in the minds of the mariners along the Chinese coast. This was the goal of the Maritime Court.

After three hours of continuous debate, with Ma Jia’s efforts and the ambiguous attitude of the main leaders of the Executive Committee, Ma Jia’s proposal was finally passed in a vote. The Navy didn’t mind returning the cargo, but the loss of the five-masted ship, a cooked duck that had flown away, was a huge blow to them. Chen Haiyang had already gone to the ship several times to observe it and consider how to modify it. Meng De, who was recovering in the hospital, was so angry he said he would smash Ma Jia’s head open. The people from the Planning Committee also gave him cold looks. As for Ma Qianzhu, he said nothing, just glanced at Ma Jia a few times.

In the arbitration tribunal of the Maritime Court in the Customs building, Ma Jia delivered the legal documents to these people one by one and explained the legal provisions. Although they didn’t quite understand, they understood that most of their goods would be returned to them.

Seeing these merchants carefully holding the judgment documents as if they were holding silver, Ma Jia couldn’t help but sigh at the great effort he and his colleagues at the Law Club had spent on the wording. Those exquisite phrases—they couldn’t understand them at all. It felt like casting pearls before swine.

None of these people had expected to get back the goods they had on the ship—to have survived and be able to return home safely was already a great fortune. Now, not only did the Australians agree to let them go home, but they were also willing to return their goods after paying a 20% salvage fee. They were all overjoyed and expressed their willingness to accept this ruling.

After receiving the judgment documents, the group went to the warehouse at the pier to retrieve their respective goods. However, settling the 20% salvage fee on the value of the goods was not easy. Although the Guangzhou station sent two reports every week, the “Guangzhou Major Export Commodity FOB Price List” and the “Guangzhou Major Commodity Market Report,” which could be used to easily check the prices of various commodities in Guangzhou, these goods had no market in Lincheng and could not be easily converted to cash. After consulting with the Planning Committee, the Finance and Economics Committee, and the Foreign Trade Committee, Ma Jia decided to use goods in kind to offset the fee. As for which goods to use, it would be designated by the Planning Committee.

In addition to offsetting the salvage fee, all goods that the Planning Committee was interested in were also purchased at the Guangzhou market price. Although the merchants did not make the super profits they would have from transporting the goods to Batavia, they saved the shipping costs back to Guangzhou and Qiongshan, avoided the trouble of carrying the goods, and could even make a small profit to cover their losses. So everyone was very enthusiastic and actively promoted their goods to the people from the Planning Committee.

The Planning Committee was most interested in things that were useful for production and daily life. They only chose various metal utensils, tung oil, medicinal herbs, and cloth as in-kind payments. They were not interested in the most popular items in maritime trade, such as silk and porcelain. Seeing that they only wanted bulk goods and had no interest in valuables, the merchants were all surprised.

Sun Xiao, representing the Planning Committee, was on site to receive and register the in-kind “salvage fees” paid by each merchant. He couldn’t help but sigh in his heart: it was a pity to let go of so many good things that had fallen into their hands. Ma Qianzhu was calm—he had originally planned to return all the goods of these small households in full. Now, with Ma Jia’s maneuvering, they had even kept a fifth. What he resented was the Hai family’s cargo, which accounted for two-thirds of the five-masted ship’s cargo capacity, and the ship itself—although they could requisition it for now, they would still have to pay for its value when the owner came.

However, the Hai family’s representative on the ship was already dead, and the living were just crew members, not the cargo owners. According to Ma Jia’s so-called “Maritime Law,” the Hai family would have to come in person to retrieve their goods and the ship. Ma Qianzhu very much hoped that the other party would be scared off and not dare to come to Lincheng at all. Once the time limit passed, everything would belong to them for free.

Besides the Planning Committee, various other departments also sent people to the site to inspect the goods and see if there was anything their department needed. If they found something they liked, they would immediately fill out a form, which would be reviewed on the spot, and the purchase would be made by the Planning Committee. The area in front of the warehouse suddenly became as noisy as a free market.

“Your red dates are good. Sell the rest to us. It will save you the shipping cost back,” the speaker was Liu San’s wife from the Ministry of Health, Wu Yunhua. Wu Yunhua had a background in physical education, specifically track and field, and was tall and strong. She had originally boarded the ship to follow her suspicious husband. After arriving in this time and space, she had no place to go for a while. Secretarial and administrative work was not suited to her temperament, so she had to help out in the cafeteria.

Wu Yunhua came into contact with many natives in the cafeteria and learned to speak the local Guangdong dialect of this time and space, as well as a little Lincheng dialect. She became an informal member of the Foreign Trade Committee and was often called upon to be an interpreter for purchases and negotiations. However, the Foreign Trade Committee was unwilling to include Wu Yunhua in its official establishment—this woman was straightforward but had a very bad temper, which most people found unbearable. Although Wu Yunhua had threatened Liu San several times to help her get a more “decent” position, Liu San just played deaf and dumb—he knew his wife too well.

At this moment, Wu Yunhua was talking to a small merchant, “Let’s make a deal for these five hundred jin. Give me a total price.”

This small merchant was carrying various dried fruits, among which the red dates were of particularly good quality, with thin skins, thick flesh, and a vibrant red color. They were authentic Lingbao red dates from Shaanxi. Cao Shunhua, who was in charge of the cafeteria, had taken a fancy to them at first sight and put them on the demand list.

“Since the chiefs want them, just take them. I dare not haggle over the price. If you would be so kind as to pity this humble one, just give me thirty taels for my travel expenses.” This merchant was very eloquent, and his words were pleasant to hear.

“What kind of talk is that? Our transmigrator group has always been upright and proper. We pay what we should. How can we take advantage of people for free! What is the price?”

The small merchant put on a very troubled look, “I am indebted to the chiefs for saving my life. It would be my duty to offer everything as a tribute. Since you gentlemen are so considerate of this humble one, let’s say thirty-five taels for the five hundred jin. Five taels can be considered my shipping cost for this trip.”

“Thirty-five taels it is. We can’t let you suffer a loss. It’s not easy for you either.”

“Then thank you, chief. You gentlemen are truly compassionate to the old and poor. You will surely be marquises and dukes for generations to come.” The small merchant’s face beamed with a smile, and he showered them with compliments.

Wu Yunhua wrote him a payment slip with a flourish. Sun Xiao, who was standing by, quickly stopped her:

“The price is wrong.”

“What, did I give too little?”

Sun Xiao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, “You gave too much.”

Although red dates were not listed in this week’s commodity market report, Sun Xiao still remembered the price from two weeks ago: top-grade red dates were two and a half taels of silver per hundred jin. And that was the retail price in the market.

“If you think it’s too much, this humble one will be extra frugal. Twenty-five taels, that’s the market price. It’s what I paid for them,” the small merchant, seeing that things were not going well, quickly changed his tune.

“The price in Guangzhou is no more than two and a half taels per hundred jin on the market. Where did you get these red dates for twenty-five taels?”

These five hundred jin of red dates, even at the market price, were only worth twelve and a half taels. This small merchant’s opening price of thirty taels was already exorbitant—even in Batavia, they wouldn’t sell for that much. Adding another six taels later was a lion’s demand.

The small merchant was instantly speechless. He hadn’t expected these Australians, in their remote corner, to be so well-informed about the market in Guangzhou—the price of two and a half taels was exactly the retail price when he had bought them a month ago. His face changed color at once.

Wu Yunhua was instantly furious. She flew into a rage and kicked the small swindler, who had been hoping to make a big profit off this “kūnzéi woman,” sending him sprawling on his back. He couldn’t get up for a moment. Wu Yunhua, not yet satisfied, jumped over to give him a good beating. The surrounding staff quickly held her back.

With Wu Yunhua’s physique, she would have beaten this thin little man half to death. Although the small merchant had tried to cheat, beating him for it would give them a reputation for being bullies and market tyrants, which would be very bad for their name.

Sun Xiao was dumbfounded. It was the first time he had seen such a fierce woman. He quickly stepped forward, “Don’t do it. This is a commercial dispute, not a conflict between us and the enemy…”

“How dare you cheat me! I’ll beat you until you shit and piss yourself, until your own mother doesn’t recognize you!” Wu Yunhua roared.

“You go inside and cool off first. Sit for a while, sit for a while,” a group of people dragged Wu Yunhua away.

They originally thought this incident would affect the atmosphere, but unexpectedly, the others were completely indifferent to this person being beaten. Some even had a “serves him right” smile on their faces. It seemed that people who tried to be clever and take advantage were not sympathized with anywhere. The kicked-over small merchant groaned on the ground for a long time, but not a single companion came to help him. Finally, he managed to get up, limped over to Sun Xiao, and bowed and scraped, begging Sun Xiao to buy his dates—the cost of shipping them back was not a small sum. Seeing his pitiful state, Sun Xiao still bought them at the market price of two and a half taels.

Xiong Buyou, representing the Foreign Trade Committee, was talking to a few small merchants—the Planning Committee saw that the goods they were transporting were all commodities that the transmigrator group would have a great demand for in the future: raw lacquer, tung oil, metal utensils… So they started talking to them about trade, asking them to directly transport these goods to Lincheng for sale.

“We can’t always rely on the procurement of the Guangzhou station,” Ma Qianzhu had once instructed at a Planning Committee meeting. “The Guangzhou station has too many things to do, and a single supply channel is very dangerous. From now on, we must find ways to attract small and medium-sized coastal merchants to trade with us directly in Lincheng.”

Xiong Buyou’s persuasion finally had some effect. The small merchant, who had previously just been nodding and not saying a word, finally spoke up:

“I hear that all transactions in Lincheng are done with a kind of paper slip,” he said cautiously. “This, I’m afraid I can’t…”

“Lincheng grain circulation coupons are not mandatory,” Xiong Buyou explained patiently. “When we pay for the goods, if you are willing to accept silver, we will give you silver. If you are willing to exchange for goods, that’s fine too. There’s no compulsion.”

To strengthen his persuasion, he pointed to the small merchants around them who were haggling with the people from the Planning Committee, “You’ve all seen it. We’re requisitioning goods, and we’re paying with silver.”

“Chief—” another small merchant interjected, “When we transport goods here, do we have to sell them through a broker?”

A broker was a middleman. In the commercial society of the Ming Dynasty, the brokers who held official licenses had a strong monopoly in the local area. Traveling merchants who had gone through great hardships to transport their goods to a place could not sell or buy freely. Both buying and selling were controlled by the brokers. Without going through a broker, one could neither buy goods nor sell them. The masters of the brokerage houses, relying on their official licenses, not only reaped huge profits but were also not enthusiastic about selling the goods. It often happened that a traveling merchant’s goods could not be sold for a year or two. Getting paid was even more difficult. This was also a major commercial malpractice at the time.

“No need,” Xiong Buyou knew the drawbacks of this system—during the peace negotiations with the county government, the matter of obtaining a broker’s license for Dongmen Market had been mentioned, so he had sought out an old clerk in the county yamen to understand it. He knew that the broker system was harmful and not beneficial, even worse than the monopolistic enterprises of later generations.

“You don’t need to go through a broker to trade in Lincheng. No matter who you sell your goods to, you don’t need to hand them over to a broker for consignment. As for our own purchases, we always pay in cash.”

“What about taxes?”

Xiong Buyou thought this was getting interesting. They were asking all the key questions now:

“Currently, you only need to pay import duties when you transport goods to Lincheng for sale.”

The concept of customs duties was naturally understood by the coastal merchants. Xiong Buyou continued, “If you bring in the goods we specify, you can also enjoy import tax exemption. For those not on the specified list, you pay tax according to the customs tariff.”

The so-called specified goods was a catalog compiled by the Planning Committee, consisting of thirty-one materials that were not produced locally in Lincheng but were in high demand, mainly including coal, metals, various grains, chemical raw materials, timber, and oils and fats.

Anyone who transported and sold these products to Lincheng would not only be exempt from import duties, but the Planning Committee would also buy them all—as much as they brought.

“Do we have to transport your specified goods to be able to import…”

“No. As long as you are willing to pay the import duties, you can sell whatever you bring,” Xiong Buyou said. “But we won’t be responsible for buying them.”

Export duties were currently all exempted, but the Planning Committee had formulated a list of prohibited exports, mainly involving currently scarce materials, such as copper, ironware, and timber. For items like sewing needles, small hardware, and grain products, although they could be exported, merchants had to hold an export license issued by the Planning Committee to transport and sell them.

Next, the merchants asked many more questions, and Xiong Buyou answered them one by one. His sincere attitude moved everyone, and finally, someone nodded and said, “In that case, I will transport a batch of tung oil over next month.”