Chapter 18: Customs

Compared to the treadmill cranes used in Europe at the same time, the Lin’gao version used a transmission and a cam controller, which not only improved the output efficiency but also prevented sudden reversals that could cause casualties.

The 21st-century technology-modified treadmill crane was far superior in both efficiency and safety to what Quaker Qiong had seen. Even for a merchant like Quaker Qiong, who knew little about engineering, the benefits of this loading and unloading model were obvious: a flatbed car’s worth of goods was loaded and unloaded in a few minutes, using less than ten people in total. If it were done by manual labor, it would have taken one or two hours.

Quaker Qiong’s deepest impression after arriving in the Great Ming was the country’s minimal use of animal power and machinery, and its tendency to overuse human labor. He had once discussed this issue with Li Luoyou, whose explanation was that while machinery was convenient, a single machine would save a lot of labor, in effect taking away the livelihoods of these people.

“Although it’s a hard-earned bowl of rice, you have to let people have something to eat, right?” Li Luoyou was very contemptuous of this red-haired man’s ignorance of the art of governance.

Li Luoyou was, on the one hand, very interested in machines, often inquiring about them from European missionaries and merchants, and even ordering books on the subject. On the other hand, he was very resistant to the practical application of machines. This made it difficult for Quaker Qiong to understand his logic. However, the extremely cheap labor in the Great Ming had left a deep impression on him. In particular, the wages of the clerks in Li Luoyou’s firm were, by Quaker’s standards, unimaginably low.

No wonder his repeated suggestions to Li Luoyou to introduce certain English machines into his industries were all rejected. And Li Luoyou would even say with great conviction that his refusal to introduce machines was a “charitable act,” because using machines would mean firing surplus clerks and ruining their livelihoods.

Was it a charitable act or the cheap labor that made this great merchant refuse to use machines? Quaker thought it was probably a bit of both.

This great merchant was only receptive to one kind of machine—the kind that could do things that were simply impossible for humans alone. For example, machines for casting cannons.

At this moment, this great merchant was watching this loading and unloading method with fascination. Even his earlier fear had gradually disappeared. The flatbed carts and boxcars ran back and forth on the tracks. Some were pushed by manpower, while others were arranged in a train and moved on their own. They transported some goods to the berths to be loaded onto ships, and unloaded other goods from the ships. The tower cranes constantly rotated and moved up and down, and goods flowed continuously. The speed and frequency of this operation were dazzling to Li Luoyou.

The goods being transported were of all kinds. Those shipped from Lin’gao were all well-packaged, either in uniformly sized crates, neat straw bags and bundles, or sealed rattan and bamboo baskets. There were also jars wrapped in straw ropes. They were marked with various symbols and patterns. Li Luoyou could barely make out the words “Fragile” and “Handle with Care” on some of the boxes.

The goods being brought in were not so regular. But they seemed to be much more miscellaneous: some were brown rice and unhusked rice, some were raw sugar, and there were also logs of wood. Some flatbed carts were loaded with pig iron from Guangdong—he had recently been instructing his men to hoard pig iron as raw material for casting cannons, so he was quite familiar with the form and standard of this commodity. He had been wondering why the supply of pig iron was so tight. Now, seeing the mountains of iron ingots and bars piled on the flatbed carts, he understood why the price of this previously worthless cold commodity had risen so high—the scale of the Australians’ pig iron purchases far exceeded his own.

What did the Australians need so much pig iron for? Li Luoyou was puzzled. The various Australian goods they sold rarely required large amounts of iron. This iron, once it flowed in, must have been stockpiled.

Could they be forging weapons and plotting a rebellion? Li Luoyou shuddered.

But there was even more of the dark, black coal. Most of the boxcars were loaded with black coal. The Australians’ demand for pig iron and coal seemed astonishingly large.

The captain advised, “Gentlemen, after disembarking, you still have to go through customs and have your passes checked. You’d better hurry up and pack your luggage and get off the ship.”

Li Luoyou had originally expected someone from Runshitang to meet him at the pier, so he had waited on the deck for a while. Seeing that the passengers from the nearby ships had all gone and still no one had come to meet him, he had to instruct his young master to prepare to disembark.

Master Li Luoyou was used to being served, so naturally his servants took care of everything. In a short while, the servants had packed the luggage, and with the master in their midst, the group disembarked in a grand procession.

Besides the railway tracks on the embankment, there were also pedestrian paths. The paths were paved with some unknown material, a hard, gray surface, smooth and flat. On both sides of the road were signs with the words “Keep Right.” Not only were there signs, but the road surface was also painted with white arrows, one side for “Go” and the other for “Come.”

Li Luoyou and his party followed the arrows and walked on the right side. At the end of the embankment stood a long house. The house was square, with a bell tower in the middle like a European church. However, there was no large bronze bell hanging in it, only a huge circular hole, covered with a wooden board.

This building was strange, and the strangest thing was that it had many doors. In front of it was a large open space, currently not crowded and empty. One could see many large signs set up in the open space, with words like “Local,” “Long-term,” “Short-term,” “Temporary,” “Customs Declaration,” “Quarantine Registration,” “Refugee,” “Green Channel”…

Li Luoyou, new to this place, didn’t know what it all meant. Quaker was also baffled by this setup. As they were hesitating, a man in a blue, front-buttoned short jacket approached them.

“Is this your first time in Lin’gao?” the man asked in perfect, standard Mandarin. Li Luoyou noticed a cloth badge pinned to his chest, with the characters “Customs” written in neat, ink-brush calligraphy.

So this was the customs house set up by the Australians. But customs was mainly for collecting taxes and duties. Since the Australians were not collecting duties now, what was the purpose of these so-called “customs” officials?

“Indeed,” Saoye quickly stepped forward to answer.

“Are you carrying any goods?”

“No goods.”

“Please take the temporary channel,” the man said, pointing.

Li Luoyou had originally thought that Quaker’s presence might cause some trouble, but the other party was clearly not interested in the red-haired man.

Saoye went ahead along the channel to check it out, then came back and said, “Master! There’s a queue to handle matters inside. Please sit here for a moment and let me handle it.”

“Go ahead,” Li Luoyou instructed. He chose a spot with an awning. His servants quickly opened two folding stools and invited the master and Quaker to sit down. Then, someone poured tea from a white copper thermos wrapped in a blue satin cozy, and someone else handed over a towel. Quaker had a habit of taking snuff, and his snuffbox was immediately presented.

This display made the people in the square turn their heads. Li Luoyou was used to being served and didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. However, the secretary Han, who had come with him, coughed and whispered, “Master, isn’t this a bit too ostentatious—”

“It’s fine,” Li Luoyou said. He thought that the purpose of this trip was to make contact with the Australians. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed to contact Yang Shiyi. By now, the Australians probably already knew he was coming.

Li Luoyou sipped his hot tea and surveyed his surroundings. The place was extremely clean. People of all sorts came and went, each following their own path and doing their own thing. If anyone hesitated or looked around, a person in a blue jacket would come forward to give directions. Everything seemed to be in good order.

Li Luoyou nodded to himself in approval. He opened a folding fan with calligraphy by Zhu Zhishan and fanned himself gently. His gaze swept to one side, and his hand trembled. It turned out that on one side of the square, there were three more houses. In front of the door stood a wooden sign with a line of incongruous, thick, ink-brush calligraphy: “Bopu Patrol Inspection Office of Lin’gao County, Great Ming.” Not to mention that the sign was not set up according to the Ming system, the fact that the patrol inspection office of the Great Ming stood right next to the grand customs house of the Australians was absurd.

In front of this patrol inspection office, there was even a patrolman in official uniform standing guard with a baton. He looked quite the part, but his monk-like hair revealed that this person was actually a “kunren,” or rather, a “fake kun.”

This group of Australians is quite interesting, he thought. Just then, Saoye came running over and knelt on one knee. “Master, the official over there insists that you go over and fill out some form yourself. I’ve been trying to persuade him for a long time, but it’s no use—”

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” Li Luoyou said, closing his fan and standing up. “Let’s go and see what it’s about.”

Inside the building was a long counter. Behind it sat several people with the “Customs” badge pinned to their chests. Li Luoyou noticed that they were all very young, no more than twenty years old at most. In front of each person was a stack of white paper, a European-style dip pen and inkwell, and also the Chinese-style four treasures of the study.

“This is our master,” Saoye said with great airs. The official looked up and sized him up.

“You need to fill out a form. Can you read?”

There were no pleasantries, let alone the word “Master.” Saoye was about to scold him when Li Luoyou nodded. “I know a few characters.”

“That’s great. You can fill it out yourself,” the official said, handing him a piece of white paper. “The pen and ink are all ready.”

Li Luoyou took it and saw that the white paper was pre-printed with many words in a grid, things like name, year of birth, and so on. It was somewhat like a hotel guest register, but much more detailed.

He thought for a moment, then picked up a pen and began to fill it out. Li Luoyou was using an alias for his trip to Lin’gao, called You Shucheng. He filled in this name, his occupation as “traveling merchant,” his residence as Foshan, and his purpose for coming here also as “traveling merchant.”

Finally, there was the number of attendants, their names, and their gender. Li Luoyou filled them all in, one by one, and handed it back. The official glanced at it, then stamped it with a seal.

“Press your thumbprint,” the official said, handing over a box of red ink paste.

In the past, when his business was not yet large, Li Luoyou had indeed used his thumbprint when signing contracts—it was a common business practice. He didn’t expect the Australians in Lin’gao to do the same.

The form was then passed to the person next to him.

This person checked it again, then took out a card from a drawer. The card was made of thick paper, very hard, about the size of half a book. The official tore a long strip of paper from the form Li Luoyou had filled out and pasted it onto the card with glue. Then he began to write something on the card with a bamboo-handled, iron-nibbed dip pen.

“You must carry this card with you at all times while you are in Lin’gao,” the official said. “The card is valid for thirty days. You must return it when you leave Lin’gao. If you need to stay in Lin’gao for longer than this period, you must re-register and get a new card at this office or the local police station before it expires.”

He emphasized his words to show their seriousness: “…The card is very important. Do not lose it. If it is lost or damaged, you must come to register as soon as possible!”

Li Luoyou took it and saw that the back of the card read “Temporary Visa.” Below it was the pasted strip of paper with a rectangle composed of thick and thin black lines, and a row of Arabic numerals below that.

On the front, besides his registered name, place of origin, and occupation, there was also the “date of issue.” At the bottom was a line of words: “Valid for thirty days from the date of issue.”

Li Luoyou noticed that not only he had this card, but Secretary Han, Saoye, and every one of his servants also had to go through the process and receive the same card. For those who couldn’t read, the official filled it out for them.

After receiving their documents, Li Luoyou’s travel group continued along the counter. Behind the counter now were several young women in blue, long-sleeved jackets. They wore wonton-like cloth hats, and their jackets were well-tailored, making them look quite pretty. The cloth badge on their chests read “Quarantine.”

Behind these women were four or five men and women in black short jackets, with belts around their waists and wearing round, flat hats. The cloth badge on their chests read “Police”—Li Luoyou knew that this small piece of cloth actually indicated their duty.

The woman took the card from Li Luoyou’s hand, looked at it, and shouted, “Foshan!”

A woman behind her immediately flipped through a large book. After a while, she replied loudly, “No epidemic in Foshan in the last ninety days.”

Then the woman asked Li Luoyou a series of questions: Had he had a fever recently? Had he been coughing? She also carefully examined his complexion, which made the master feel very uncomfortable—usually, women would either be terrified or shyly lower their eyes when they saw him.

“Have you been sick with anything recently?”

After receiving a negative answer, the woman shouted, “Pass!” and then stamped Li Luoyou’s card with a seal. Li Luoyou looked closely. The stamp was actually blue, with four characters carved on it: “Quarantine Passed.”

Next was Quaker. He was asked the same questions. Li Luoyou suddenly heard, “Have you had syphilis?”

“As God is my witness, no!” Quaker denied it flatly.

“Gonorrhea?”

“No!”

“Please come inside for a moment,” the woman said.

“Why?” Quaker began to feel uneasy. “I’m not sick, I’m very healthy!”

“It will only take a moment,” the woman said, unyielding. Several burly men with clubs behind her also moved closer.