Chapter 349: A New Look for Jeju (Part 2)
“Yes,” Xue Ziliang nodded. “Feng Zongze has already started sending people to all the villages and fortresses, summoning them to Jeju for a grand meeting in the next few days.”
“Will they come?”
“The vast majority will. It’s not in their interest to defy us. So far, we haven’t done anything to harm the interests of these grassroots power holders, that’s one thing,” Xue Ziliang said. “Secondly, they are also eager to know what we are planning to do, so they can take corresponding countermeasures.”
Xue Ziliang explained in detail their current reconnaissance work on the entire Jeju Island. In his view, in terms of social conditions, Jeju Island had similarities to Hainan Island, which he had traversed with his special reconnaissance team. The government had a certain degree of influence, but its actual control was not very strong. Outside the three cities and nine towns, it was the domain of the local landlords. They occupied large tracts of mountains, forests, and pastures, had many dependent peasants, and often built their own fortresses for self-defense, training local militias.
As long as their core interests were not touched, these people didn’t care who sat on the throne. Therefore, so far, there had been almost no resistance from the populace. The few armed conflicts that had occurred were mostly caused by locals who had not yet witnessed the power of the “Wo-Kun” and had attempted to rob outsiders.
“Apart from the coastal areas, the interior here is mostly mountainous, with a lot of pastures and forests. The power of the mountain lords is significant, somewhat like the Mexican ranchers of the 19th century,” Xue Ziliang said. “They are very submissive to the Joseon court, and also very submissive to us.”
Although the Joseon Dynasty had a “Little China” feel in its overall structure, and a visit to the capital felt like being in the Ming Dynasty, in reality, the local power in Joseon was very strong, and the court’s control over the localities was far weaker than in the Ming. The organization of righteous armies in various places during the two Japanese invasions had further strengthened this trend. The local yangban aristocrats were virtually feudal lords, and the common people were heavily oppressed, their status close to that of serfs.
After hearing Xue Ziliang’s introduction, Zhu Mingxia had a general idea of the situation. However, the specific details of how to proceed with the next step would have to be discussed after Feng Zongze and Nangong Wudi returned.
“These working conditions are just too awful,” Feng Zongze complained as he looked at the soot-blackened beams and pillars. “The smell is terrible.”
Feng Zongze was inspecting the Myeongdi Estate. He was very concerned about the future development of Jeju Island. Besides providing horses for the Senate, following the inertial thinking of 21st-century Chinese, he had quickly launched commercial activities, seeking opportunities to expand foreign trade.
Relying solely on the central government for supplies meant a very long wait for a local government thousands of li away. Especially now that Jeju Island was in the midst of a construction boom and needed a large amount of materials. Feng Zongze and the others felt that instead of waiting for supplies to be shipped all the way from Hong Kong, it would be better to try and purchase them locally. He had already reported this idea to the Executive Committee and received approval from the Ministry of Colonies and Trade.
Jeju Island didn’t have many major products. The main ones were cattle and horses, bows and arrows, and fish. Since cattle and horses were strictly controlled materials by the Senate, and fish were an important food source, bow and arrow production became the most suitable major export product.
As soon as they had captured the three cities and nine towns and established initial control over Jeju Island, Feng Zongze began to restore and expand the bow and arrow industry. Due to a lack of management personnel and unfamiliarity with the local situation and the bow-making industry, it was ultimately decided to contract out all the government-run bow and arrow workshops to the local Myeongdi Estate bow and arrow shop.
Although the approval for trade with the northeast had not yet been granted, Feng Zongze was very concerned about increasing bow and arrow production and improving quality. While he didn’t interfere with the specific business management, he had already begun to forcibly promote some simple new techniques and quality control measures in the various shops, and had also imported some specialized equipment from Lingao.
What Feng Zongze found to be poor working conditions was the nauseating stench emanating from more than a dozen pots of boiling fish glue. The process and equipment for boiling fish glue had just been rebuilt and configured under the guidance of naturalized citizen technicians. The old crude fire pits and large pots for boiling glue had been replaced with cement and brick water bath troughs, which used a more efficient flue for centralized heating. The specialized glue-boiling pots were placed in the water bath troughs for heating, which not only saved fuel but also solved the problem of scorching that had long plagued the glue-boiling workers. There was no longer a need for workers to constantly watch the pots, adjusting the fire by adding or removing fuel.
Seeing the Korean craftsmen busy in the workshop, they seemed completely oblivious to the foul smell of the glue. Korean-style houses, built to conserve heat and building materials, were generally low-ceilinged, and this “glue-boiling workshop” was no exception. The low space further concentrated the smell, making Feng Zongze feel dizzy.
“Chief, please come this way,” Park Deok-hwan, observing his expression, had long noticed Chief Feng’s displeasure and quickly led him out into the courtyard for some fresh air.
“This workshop needs to be rebuilt. It stinks! How can the craftsmen stand it!” Feng Zongze complained as he quickly walked out of the “workshop” into the courtyard.
“The Chief is right,” Park Deok-hwan said. “This humble servant… no, I will go and instruct Manager Zhao to do it right away!”
“Forget it,” Feng Zongze thought to himself. He decided not to introduce any new ideas for now. There had been many “reform” projects recently, and Manager Zhao was already gritting his teeth. Although the various improvements arranged by the Jeju Island forward command, which involved equipment, did not require the partners to spend money—the equipment and installation were all covered by the Senate—the workshops still had considerable expenses. Matters of labor protection could wait.
In the courtyard, a team of the “labor service corps” pushing Zidengai and Jifeng-style wheelbarrows was unloading heavy standard packing boxes. The boxes were marked with their weight and painted with different arrow patterns. Each box had to be opened and inspected before being weighed. This was the second improvement Feng Zongze had initiated: standard arrowheads.
Feng Zongze had inspected the locally made bows and arrows. The arrowheads were all forged by blacksmiths on Jeju Island. They were not only crudely made, but also required the fletchers to file and shape the arrow shafts to fit them, which was inefficient. So, Feng Zongze immediately introduced standard arrowheads.
The current standard arrowheads were made in Lingao. The engineers at the machinery factory, based on modern archery research, had developed several types of arrowheads for different purposes and produced them in a standardized manner. In the eyes of Zhan Wuya and others, this was just a type of small hardware. Once the molds were made, they could be mass-produced continuously using stamping equipment, saving both labor and materials.
After the standard arrowheads made in Lingao were delivered to the island, they immediately replaced the locally produced ones. Even without administrative coercion, this improvement was not difficult to implement: the craftsmen had never seen such finely made arrowheads before. The amount of filing and shaping required during assembly was also greatly reduced. The arrowheads had always been purchased from outside anyway; now it was just a matter of changing suppliers—and the price was no higher than before. Mass-produced small hardware had extremely low costs, and in fact, Feng Zongze could even make a profit from selling the arrowheads.
However, Feng Zongze was still not satisfied. During his inspections, he found that the craftsmen still often needed to file and shape the arrowheads during assembly. It turned out that although the arrowheads were standardized, the arrow shafts that went with them were still handmade. The tolerances were so large they could be seen with the naked eye.
“It seems the next step is to introduce an arrow shaft making machine,” he thought. He had seen similar equipment at Hailin’s place, but it was used for making chopsticks and bamboo skewers. It was originally hand-cranked, but later powered by a steam engine. You fed prepared bamboo or wood into the feeding port, and a rotary cutter would automatically turn them into identical small sticks. By adjusting the size of the cutter, you could produce them in different dimensions.
There was no steam engine here for the time being, but a hand-cranked one would do. Feng Zongze suddenly thought that the water resources here were quite abundant. He could consider building a dam to store energy to power a water turbine, or perhaps a windmill.
The assembled arrows were coated with fish oil to prevent rust, then wrapped in paper in bundles of twelve. Ten bundles were then packed into a box, ready for sale. The current weekly arrow production of the various bow and arrow shops was twenty thousand, which Feng Zongze considered too low. Arrows were consumables. For the frequently warring Ming and Qing dynasties, a monthly production of one hundred thousand might not even be enough.
The current production efficiency was still too low. Even a management amateur like him could see many areas for improvement in the bow and arrow shops.
To ensure his various improvements were implemented, and to supervise the current “control” of bow and arrow materials, he had already appointed Park Deok-hwan as the “General Supervisor of Bows and Arrows,” specifically responsible for coordinating communication between the Jeju Island forward command and the bow and arrow industry, and for all improvement work.
Because he himself was also very busy, he could only be satisfied with this extensive management model for now. However, the advantage of having the bow and arrow industry under government supervision but privately run was that he didn’t have to bear the costs and profits and losses of the shops. Feng Zongze’s requirement for the bow and arrow workshops was simple: hand over one-fifth of the total output as a contract fee and tax. No other taxes would be levied.
Although he only received one-fifth of the output, Feng Zongze already controlled the main ports on the island. By issuing export licenses, he controlled the export trade. The bows and arrows produced by other shops, unless smuggled out, could only be exported by ship through the Chaotianpu port.
Currently, Huang Yunyu was responsible for bow and arrow exports. As an agent for the merchant guilds on the peninsula, he had natural sales channels. So, for the time being, the bows and arrows made on Jeju Island were exported through his channels. To support the industry, no export tax was currently charged.
To seize greater profits, Feng Zongze was already planning to establish a foreign trade company to monopolize all import and export business on Jeju Island, leaving the bow and arrow workshops and shops to exist only as production and domestic distribution enterprises.
After the inspection, Feng Zongze, accompanied by Park Deok-hwan, went to his “Bow and Arrow Industry Control” office—located in a nearby shop.