Chapter 91: The Household Census

Because Zhang Yu and his friends had read “Australian military studies” magazines like “War History Research,” they all knew that the Australians placed the highest importance on “military honor” and were critical of the “prioritizing of civil officials over the military” and the “use of civil officials to control the military” that had been prevalent since the Song Dynasty. They were especially critical of the Ming Dynasty’s extreme suppression of the status of military officers—a sentiment that had resonated with Li Ziyu.

The phrase “only soldiers with a sense of honor can form an invincible army” had left a deep impression on Zhang Yu at the time, but he had no concept of what “a sense of honor” really meant. Now, from these “Senate soldiers,” he roughly understood what “a soldier’s sense of honor” was.

The Fubo Army soldiers stood as straight as pines and sat as steady as bells. When they walked, two would form a rank, and three a file, all in perfect uniformity. Their appearance and attire were crisp and clean… all of it exuded a powerful sense of deterrence, which was on a completely different level from the fear generated by the fierce and barbaric behavior of the rowdy government troops.

Despite this, they spoke to the common people very politely and didn’t demand anything from them. A few years ago, Zhang Yu’s family shop had been half-eaten empty by the “Chaozhou Braves” who had come to “assist in the defense.” His parents had knelt on the ground, kowtowing and pleading bitterly, before the petty officer finally threw down a string of low-quality coins that would shatter if dropped, then patted his bottom and left.

The world had truly changed, Zhang Yu thought with emotion.

Taking the opportunity of making deliveries everywhere, he went to find his friends. Zeng Juan was in a similar situation to him now: helping out at home and sometimes going out to make deliveries. Li Ziyu’s house, however, was tightly shut. He knocked for a long time, but no one answered. Zeng Juan said his family might have fled to the countryside—the Australians had posted notices requiring all military households in the city’s garrisons (Weisuo) to report for inspection and reorganization. Many garrison officers had already fled.

“Why flee? What use are the few soldiers in the garrisons?” Zhang Yu knew that the garrison soldiers were completely useless. The Australians wouldn’t slaughter them, and it was unlikely they would be conscripted—besides, even if they were to become soldiers for the Australians, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. At least they would be paid on time.

“Ordinary military households are just common people; naturally, they have nothing to fear,” Zeng Juan said. “But Li Ziyu’s family are hereditary military officers… This time, the Australians are cracking down on the yamen runners and clerks, allowing the people to file complaints and expose them. Those with great public resentment and blood debts have all been arrested. They’re now being tortured in prison to recover their illicit gains…”

“So what? They’re military households, not yamen runners,” Zhang Yu said, puzzled.

“My dear young master, how can you not understand? The military officers live a life of luxury, while the military households work for them all year round. They are beaten and scolded, and in the end, they are forced to sell their sons and daughters, and some even freeze or starve to death. What do you think will happen during this reorganization and inspection?”

“So that’s how it is!” Zhang Yu suddenly understood. “So you’re saying…”

“That’s right. I heard that these surrendered soldiers have been gathered at the training grounds, and the soldiers and military households are being asked to expose their officers. Many officers have already been arrested,” Zeng Juan said. “How could Li Ziyu’s family not run?”

“Ziyu’s family should be fine…” Zhang Yu originally wanted to say “it’s nothing serious,” but on second thought, Li Ziyu had said his uncle was very rich, and that money must have come from exploiting the military households. As for whether his uncle had blood debts, that was something they couldn’t possibly know.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but sigh: “I wonder where Ziyu has run off to now.”

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again. He’s probably already fled to the north,” Zeng Juan also sighed. No matter how much of a young master Li Ziyu had been in the past, they were still good friends, and he was the “financial backer” of their small group. Everyone had benefited from his generosity. His sudden disappearance left a sense of melancholy in their hearts.

That day, he returned from making a delivery and entered his shop to find several extra people inside. The leaders were a few “Australians” in black uniforms, accompanied by several “assistants” wearing basin-shaped hats. In recent days, he had seen them questioning pedestrians and patrolling the streets. People said this was the “Australians’ fast squad”—the Australian term was “police.”

For no reason at all, why would the Australians’ fast squad come to his house? Zhang Yu’s heart immediately filled with panic. Then he saw that one of them was someone he knew, the local jia leader, Old Man He.

Seeing a familiar face, he felt a little more at ease. When his mother saw him return, she quickly called out, “Yu’er, come quickly and greet these gentlemen!”

Zhang Yu hurried over and bowed. The leading Australian said, “No need for formalities. Since the young man is back, let’s hurry up and fill out the forms. We have many more households to get to.”

Only then did Zhang Yu realize that these policemen were here for “household registration.” This wasn’t an unfamiliar matter. Every year, the baozhang and jia leader would inevitably accompany yamen runners to “check the paijia registers.” In reality, they didn’t check anything. They would say a few official-sounding words, and as they were leaving, they would have to be given a few hundred coins as “grass sandals money.” His mother used to say, “One inspection, and a day’s business is for nothing.”

But if you weren’t careful and angered these masters, they could accuse you of “harboring criminals” and chain you up and take you to the yamen. Then it wouldn’t be a matter of a few hundred coins. Once you were in the lockup, you wouldn’t get out without handing over some real silver. Boss Cao, who ran a small carpentry shop, had suffered this ordeal. He was locked up by the urine bucket for a whole night without food or water, and it took several taels of silver to get him released the next day.

“Is this your son?” the policeman asked.

“Yes, this is my humble son,” Zhang Yu’s father quickly replied.

“Is he your only child?”

“We had a few others, but they didn’t survive…”

“Name?”

“He is called Zhang Yu.”

“How do you write it? Can you read and write? Here, write it down!” He handed over paper, a brush, and ink.

Zhang Yu quickly wrote down his name. The policeman examined it and handed it to another policeman who looked like a clerk. “Write it down,” he instructed. “Name: Zhang Yu. Relationship to head of household: son.” Then he asked, “Date of birth?”

“The ninth day of the third month of the Wuwu year of the Wanli era.”

“What year is that in the Gregorian calendar?” the policeman acting as the scribe asked the questioning policeman after writing it down.

“The Wuwu year of Wanli is the 46th year of Wanli…” the policeman flipped through a book. “1618!”

The Zhang family had no idea what “1618” meant, but they didn’t dare to ask.

“Was he born here? Was he born to you and your current wife?”

In pre-modern society, the maternal mortality rate was extremely high, so it was natural for men with some financial means to remarry. There were also various complex factors such as children born to concubines or through surrogate arrangements, so it was not uncommon for a child not to be born to the main wife.

“Yes, he was born at home,” Zhang Yu’s father replied. “My humble son was indeed born to my wife.”

“Education level?” After asking, the policeman probably felt the question was inappropriate and added, “Does he study?”

“Yes, my humble son studies at the community school…”

“Boss Zhang,” the policeman said, “let your son speak for himself.”

Zhang Yu thought for a moment and said, “I have been studying at the community school for seven years. I have read the Four Books and Five Classics, have started learning to write essays and poems, and participated in the Tongshi examination last year…”

However, this whole speech only resulted in “private school, intermediate level” being filled in on the form.

Because it was difficult for the Senate to specifically measure the level of traditional education, a simplified model was adopted for household registration. For those with official ranks, their education level was directly recorded according to the rank they had obtained. For those without, it was divided into three levels: those who had studied in a private school for a few years but had not started learning to write the eight-legged essay were considered “private school, primary level”; those who had participated in the Tongshi examination were considered “intermediate level”; and those who had participated in the Tongshi examination more than twice were considered “advanced level.”

Since the lists of participants in the imperial examinations and each Tongshi examination were archived in the government offices, they could be cross-checked to prevent people from deliberately over-reporting or under-reporting.

“Can you use an abacus?”

This was another addition to meet the needs of this time and space. After all, being able to use an abacus for calculations was considered a professional skill in the 17th century and was still useful to the Senate, so it had to be registered.

“Yes,” Zhang Yu secretly wondered, why do they even ask about using an abacus?

“Are you married?”

Zhang Yu’s face couldn’t help but turn red. “No.”

“Alright,” the questioning policeman said. “Next house!”

With that, the group packed up their things and got ready to leave. Zhang Yu’s father quickly offered a string of coins, his face wreathed in smiles. “Gentlemen, you’ve worked hard. This is some grass sandals money, a small token of our respect…”

Zhang Yu saw a gleam in the eyes of the “assistants,” but the policemen in black remained unmoved. The leader said, “Shopkeeper, we don’t do this under the Senate’s rule! Your cooperation with our work is the best help you can give. Take your money back. It’s not easy for you to run a small business and earn a few coins.”

Zhang Yu’s father tried to insist, but the policeman had already led his men out. Old Man He said, “Boss Zhang, no need! This is the Senate’s world now; we don’t do that anymore.”

His father whispered, “Old Man He, you’re not trying to trick us, are you?”

Old Man He laughed. “I’ve already accompanied them to six households today. None of them took the grass sandals money. Why would your house be an exception? Your shiny silver is tempting, but you’d better take it back and spend it yourself.”

Hearing the jia leader say this, the family finally felt at ease. Zhang Yu went out to look and saw that the group had already entered the tofu shop. Two men were hammering away at the lintel of the tofu shop, which gave him a start. Looking closely, he saw they were nailing up a wooden plaque with characters branded on it. On one side was written “Huifu Street,” and on the other were the “Arabic numerals” he had seen in the “Australian magazines,” with Chinese characters marked next to them.

He then looked at the houses they had passed along the street and saw that they had all been nailed with these plaques, each with a different number. His own house also had one. He thought to himself, this idea of the Australians is quite clever! With every household numbered, it would be much easier to find them. When he went out to make deliveries, it was fine for teahouses—he could just look at the signs—but delivering to private residences was a problem. The instructions were usually just “the nth house from the east/west end of xx street/alley,” at most with a landmark like “a big tree at the entrance” or “a well not far down the street.”