Chapter 195: The New Ziminglou

Mo Xiao’an had to roughly explain the concepts of plumbing, the siphon principle of a flush toilet, and the water seal for blocking odors. Although the kiln workers were befuddled by the scientific principles, they understood the general meaning and couldn’t help but express their admiration, saying that the Australians were truly the most ingenious craftsmen in the world.

After the flush toilet could be successfully molded, the kiln workers began to make other sanitary ware, including bathtubs. The difficulty of making a bathtub was much greater. Modern bathtubs are actually mostly enameled, with the base material being metal stamped or cast into shape, then glazed and fired. If it were made purely of porcelain and also had to maintain a certain strength, the difficulty would be considerable.

After repeated trials, a single-person bathtub was finally produced a few weeks later. After a water test, the product was fully qualified, including the overflow drain.

After making a bathtub, things like washbasins were even easier. Finally, there were the tiles. They were no longer solid porcelain bricks, but tiles just like in the modern era.

Mo Xiao’an thought that with this, they could create a real bathroom. Wouldn’t that be a super-luxurious version in the Ming Dynasty? The wealthy officials and nobles, who were used to a life of luxury, would have to get one or two sets to show off their status.

“Uh, don’t forget to add patterns to these things, yes, decorative patterns.”

This was very easy for the kiln workers. Among the recruited kiln workers, there were specialists in this. After arriving in Lincheng, they found that their skills had basically no place to be used—the Australians’ porcelain and pottery were all plain, with nothing added. Now that they heard patterns were to be added, they immediately brought out their full range of skills. And so, Mo Xiao’an saw a beautiful blue and white flush toilet and a washbasin with underglaze red.

“The butt that sits on this must be very precious,” Mo Xiao’an was astonished. But seeing the colorful flowers and birds painted stroke by stroke on each small tile, he could no longer express his feelings in words—it was too extravagant!

“Hmm, don’t forget to write a trademark on it in seal script…”

“A trademark?”

“It’s a brand name,” Mo Xiao’an said. “Only we can make this. We have to let everyone know.”

He said casually, “Let’s call it ‘Pierre Cardin’.”

“Pi-dan?” the kiln workers were all puzzled. Why would such a beautiful toilet be called a preserved egg?

“No, no,” Mo Xiao’an pondered with his chin in his hand. “How about ‘Heaven on Earth’!”

For a moment, Mo Xiao’an thought his idea was brilliant. Heaven on Earth—the lifestyle consumer goods from the future that we are producing deserve this name. He decided that all the luxury consumer goods produced by the Ministry of Light Industry in the future would be called this.

Mo Xiao’an quickly found someone to draw a logo and then had the kiln workers paint the design on the products.

The ceramic factory itself had a heavy workload for industrial support, so the production of sanitary ware was in small batches. But the plain white tiles were immediately put into large-scale production. The machine factory even specially made an automatic brick-making machine for the ceramic factory to mass-produce tile blanks. Tiles were easy to clean and were the best building material for maintaining environmental hygiene. The hospital, pharmaceutical factory, food factory, and cafeteria all placed large orders to improve their working environments.

As for the first batch of sanitary ware samples, after approval by the Executive Committee, they were used in the renovation of the luxurious rooms at the merchant’s lodge. To support these items, a small-scale water supply and drainage system was experimentally installed in the merchant’s lodge, including a small experimental water pipe boiler for heating water, dedicated cast iron water supply and drainage pipes, and bronze faucets and showerheads. Metal flexible hoses were out of the question, so the showerhead was fixed directly to the wall like in a modern bathroom. The walls were covered with colorful flower and bird tiles.

The most difficult part was the rubber bowl seal in the toilet tank, which was replaced with a cork stopper. As for the automatic water shut-off float ball system, it was still too difficult for the transmigrators’ machining and material capabilities, so it was not adopted at all. The toilet tank was filled directly from a faucet, and the faucet was turned off when it was full. It was troublesome but absolutely reliable. The cost of labor in ancient times was very cheap. A family that could afford a toilet could probably afford a dedicated servant to handle the water in the bathroom.

The installed system, not to mention the shock it gave the local natives, was impressive even to the transmigrators—even if your toilet at home was a Pierre Cardin, it probably wouldn’t be blue and white porcelain.

After trying it out, Mo Xiao’an expressed his basic satisfaction. After communicating with the Guangzhou station, he placed an order for five sets. Each set included a flush toilet, a bathtub, and a washbasin, plus matching hardware, tiles, and floor tiles.

Each set had a different pattern, including blue and white, underglaze red, and a Japanese style with small white flowers. In short, it was the height of luxury.

Even the hardware had different requirements. Some required gilding, while others required silver plating. The final creative idea was to have the showerhead, exposed water pipes, and faucets all made of glass—Mo Xiao’an finally understood what it meant to rack one’s brains.

Why not just make a set of sanitary ware out of glass? A fully transparent flush toilet was unnecessary, but a fully transparent bathtub… At this thought, Mo Xiao’an’s blood rushed. He hurried to the glass factory, and the answer he got was that it was theoretically possible, but the glass produced by the factory at the moment did not meet the required strength.

“We can make a large fish tank, at most it will be thicker and less transparent, but a bathtub is not possible,” the person in charge of the glass factory flatly refused.

The subsequent orders were much larger: dozens of toilets, washbasins, matching hardware and pipes, and finally, hundreds of boxes of colored tiles. Originally, they wanted patterned tiles, but it would take forever to have craftsmen paint them one by one. The mold printing method was too late to experiment with, so they simply changed them all to colored tiles.

Finally, a sixth order came. The general requirements were similar to the previous ones, but it required a two-person massage bathtub.

Mo Xiao’an found a shell-shaped design from his materials and sent it to the ceramic factory for trial production. This super-large bathtub made the kiln workers very nervous—the size of the bathtub was already comparable to the most difficult-to-fire dragon vats. Even in Jingdezhen, such oversized porcelain could no longer be fired. Now, although the Australians had taught them a new method of using molds for shaping, no one was confident.

In the end, the bathtub was fired, but during the test, they immediately discovered a problem: this bathtub couldn’t massage.

The water pressure from the high-hanging water tank on the ceiling alone could not produce the jet effect for a massage, unless the Ziminglou planned to build a water tank three or four stories high to supply water. Of course, the Ziminglou could do that, but the Guangzhou station lacked the equipment to lift the water to such a height—installing a steam engine in the Ziminglou seemed a bit sensational.

“I have a simple method,” Wang Luobin said after looking at it. “Use human power to pressurize it.”

The so-called human-powered pressurization was to add a crank-operated pressurizer to a certain part of the water pipe. By turning the crank by hand, the force of the water jet could be enhanced.

“Wouldn’t the bather find that very awkward?” Mo Xiao’an said. “Imagine you’re soaking in the tub with a girl, and you have to tell someone outside to turn a handle. It doesn’t feel good.”

“What else can we do?” Wang Luobin couldn’t think of a better way either.

“It’s fine. The ancients had different ideas from modern people,” said Yu E’shui, who had also come to observe the bathtub. “It’s not a big deal for a maid to serve outside the room during intimate moments in this time and space. Turning a handle outside the wall is even less of a big deal.”

“The ancients were so fortunate,” Mo Xiao’an lamented.

And so, the hand-cranked pressure pump massage bathtub was finalized. The complete set was packed and shipped to Guangzhou for installation.

The Ziminglou, redesigned and rebuilt by Zhang Xingpei in Guangzhou, still maintained the form of traditional Chinese architecture in its appearance, but its structure was completely changed—of course, this did not mean it was to be changed to reinforced concrete. Zhang Xingpei was very familiar with wooden structures. Most of the houses he had built in the United States were wooden structures.

After arriving in Guangzhou, Zhang Xingpei changed his clothes, surveyed the terrain of the Ziminglou on site, and, led by Shen Fan, experienced the “flow” of the entire restaurant. He found that the Ziminglou’s land area was relatively limited, so the original owner had built a three-story structure—increasing the usable area by adding floors. Overall, the Ziminglou had at least a few shortcomings. First, the main entrance along the street was too busy, lacking a special passage for officials and dignitaries to enter and exit quietly. Second, the land utilization rate was not high. They had gone to great lengths to build a tall building in the front, but left a large piece of land in the back to build a traditional courtyard-style building, which not only wasted space but also lacked privacy, as any activity in the courtyard could be seen from the open windows of the back building. The cooking fumes from the side rooms were also a problem, often wafting into the ground floor hall. Third, the structure was not very reasonable. There was only one staircase for people to go up and down, which could easily become congested when there were many customers. Sometimes, people who didn’t want to meet would inevitably run into each other. The last problem was the lack of parking space—that is, a place for sedan chairs to wait. Although there was an open space in front of the screen wall opposite, where sedan chairs and carriages could be parked, waiting in the open air was very hard on the chair bearers and servants. In the scorching sun or heavy rain, the sedan chairs themselves would become hot and humid.

In terms of practicality, the Ziminglou had three floors but only one toilet. Zhang Xingpei thought the most terrible thing here was the toilet. In such a luxurious restaurant, the toilet was actually located in a small tiled house next to the steamy kitchen. In terms of condition, it was ten times better than the latrines Zhang Xingpei had seen in Lincheng county town—but the two large manure vats and a row of urine vats swarming with flies made him run out after the first glance.

“You can use this toilet?” Zhang Xingpei asked Guo Yi.

“I don’t use it anyway,” Guo Yi said. There was a toilet behind Pei Lixiu’s boudoir in the courtyard that was more in line with modern standards.

“The Ziminglou has to be demolished and rebuilt,” Zhang Xingpei proposed his plan a few days later.

“Alright,” Guo Yi nodded. “What’s the plan?”

The new design plan removed the large and useless backyard. Zhang Xingpei drew inspiration from the “Fanlou” of the Northern Song Dynasty and prepared to build a multi-building complex. There would be three buildings in total, front and back, ranging from three to four stories, with a staggered and picturesque layout. The buildings would be connected by two-story corridors, forming a rough “田” character in plan. Each building would have multiple staircases, as well as a dedicated staircase for internal staff such as waiters.

The first building was a restaurant with a “three visible, four hidden” structure. Zhang Xingpei introduced the modern hotel’s front porch design here. Guests would arrive at the main entrance in their sedan chairs, alight, and enter the lobby, while the sedan chairs would be taken to the semi-underground “hidden first floor.” This was the Ziminglou’s “parking lot,” used to park sedan chairs. There were also hitching posts and drinking troughs for customers who came on horseback or by carriage, with a well, and dedicated staff to serve tea and snacks to the coachmen and chair bearers. The “visible first floor” was the main hall. Zhang Xingpei went all out in his design, using a full-height design. From the floor to the ceiling of the third floor, there were galleries on all four sides. A sixty-four-light glass chandelier from the glass factory, hung high from the sturdy main beam on the third floor with a bronze chain and pulley.

The main hall was open from front to back. The walls were fitted with large carved wooden glass windows, making it look tall and bright. The floor was paved with Lu Mu chengjiang bricks ordered from Suzhou—commonly known as “golden bricks.” Although golden bricks were not made of gold, their preciousness was no less. In the Ming and Qing dynasties, they were imperial supplies for the palace. What Guo Yi could buy were the second-grade products left over from the tribute, which had already cost a lot of money.

However, the fact that these high-priced floor tiles from a thousand miles away could be transported to Guangzhou for sale showed the high consumption power and extravagance of the city. The transmigrator group’s plan to promote lifestyle consumer goods through the Ziminglou was still feasible.

In the center of the main hall was an indoor pool, paved with pebbles for raising goldfish. In the middle of the pool stood a man-high landscape rockery, with water guided by bamboo pipes to create the shape of a waterfall landscape.

On both sides of the pool were rest areas with screens, tables, and chairs for guests to wait and rest.

The second floor here was the main dining area of the restaurant. The third floor was all private rooms. Zhang Xingpei didn’t come up with any new ideas for this part and left it all to the local carpenters to decorate—even if he wanted to decorate it in a modern style, he didn’t have the materials or tools. The only improvement was the addition of washrooms on both the second and third floors, with colored tiles from Lincheng on the walls and floors, plus blue and white porcelain flush toilets. Of course, these washrooms had to have dedicated staff to flush and turn off the water for the toilets.

The main business of the second building of the Ziminglou was the kind of stuff found in a modern bathhouse. Because the transmigrator group could not yet produce particularly effective preservatives and waterproofing agents, and the load-bearing capacity of the floorboards could not support tens of cubic meters of water, Zhang Xingpei could only set up the bathhouse on the first floor. The large, oval-shaped pool was recessed into the ground, with wide steps. Bathers could easily enter and exit the pool along the steps. To save on tiles, Zhang Xingpei used a large number of cut stone slabs as the outer facing of the cement pool. At the four corners of the pool were several beast-head carvings that spouted water into the pool. Besides the pool, there were also steam rooms and massage rooms. Of course, the massage rooms would not lack the popular content of opposite-sex massage.

On the second floor, there was a large lounge for guests to rest. The design of the lounge was very distinctive, with a semi-circular theater-style arrangement. In the middle was a circular performance area—specifically for performing various “improved versions” of songs and dances.

The third floor was where the six new sets of sanitary ware were to be used, including the human-powered massage bathtub. Considering the very limited load-bearing capacity of the wooden floorboards, Zhang Xingpei specially added several structural supports.

These six rooms, equipped with modern sanitary ware, were naturally the VIP rooms. They were not only luxuriously decorated and comfortable to live in, but also had dedicated staircases and passages, completely separate from the other levels.

A bathhouse meant a large amount of water consumption. The main water supply in Guangzhou came from two parts—one was from water carriers who delivered water with water carts and shoulder poles, with the source mostly from the Pearl River basin, and the other was from digging their own wells. Guangzhou was on the banks of the Pearl River, and the groundwater level was very high. For the Ziminglou to have a bathhouse, it naturally could not rely on water carriers. Therefore, in addition to the two original wells, several more wells were dug. And mechanical water pumps were installed on the wells to increase the speed of water extraction.

The water pumped from the wells by manpower flowed through a stone trough into a newly built cement reservoir. After a brief period of sedimentation and alum treatment, it could be used.

But this system had a major problem. While there were several effective traditional techniques for supplying hot water—such as the flue of a heated brick bed—the running water system throughout the building required them to build a high-level water tank. Building a water tank was easy, but how to lift the water from the ground to a height of three or four stories was a tricky problem.

Zhang Xingpei had originally planned to install a boiler and a steam engine to lift the water with mechanical power. But the technical content of these two things was a bit too high. Without skilled workers to maintain them at all times, the boiler would be a time bomb. And the vibration of the steam engine when it was running, the high-temperature steam from the exhaust, plus the smoke from burning coal—the black smoke was enough to completely destroy the luxurious and elegant atmosphere the Ziminglou was trying to create.

If they didn’t use machinery, unless the Ziminglou planned to hire people to lift the water to the water tower by hand, the workload seemed daunting. So Wang Luobin stepped in—his task was to find a power machine for the water lifting equipment that did not require a steam engine.

Without a steam engine, and with manual labor being too inefficient, the transmigrators would generally turn to wind and water power. Water power was not feasible at the Ziminglou. As for wind-powered water lifting equipment, Wang Luobin thought the feasibility was not great either—to effectively lift water to a water tower more than 10 meters above the ground, they would have to build a behemoth with a height of more than 12 meters and windmill blades of 5 meters. It was uncertain what kind of gossip such a behemoth standing in Guangzhou would bring to the Ziminglou. After testing the wind speed and checking the perennial wind direction and force in Guangzhou—the Guangzhou station had also been collecting local meteorological data—Wang Luobin also rejected this plan.