Chapter 93: Epidemic Prevention

That was one thing, but then, amidst the aroma of soy milk, he caught a whiff of a foul stench. Liu San was already very familiar with this smell; it was the kind of odor found in a stable for large livestock. There was a small door next to the shop. Pushing it open revealed a small courtyard with a shed where a small donkey was tied up, eating grass from a trough. Not far from the trough was a stone mill, still bearing the residue of bean juice and skins from the morning’s soy milk grinding.

Evidently, the glistening tofu on the board outside was made from soy milk ground in this small courtyard, filled with the stench of donkey manure and urine.

Liu San thought to himself, it’s a good thing the soy milk has to be boiled before making tofu. He now felt more than ever how “correct” it was for the General Office to arrange for special supplies for the Senate members.

Just as he was about to leave, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure moving in the corner of the shed. Startled, he took a few steps back and shouted, “Who’s there?”

His shout was all it took. The assistants gathered outside immediately rushed in, shouting, “Who is it? Come out!”

This shout brought out a trembling young woman from behind the livestock shed. Her face was smeared with soot from the stove, and her messy hair and clothes were dotted with straw.

An assistant shouted loudly, “Who are you? Why are you hiding here?” They were all former constables, and putting on an air of authority in front of the common people was a basic skill. The young woman immediately burst into tears, and in an instant, her tears washed the soot into streaks across her face, creating a messy, painted look.

The tofu shop owner and his wife, who were registering at the storefront, hurried over to explain that this was their daughter.

“Your daughter? Didn’t you say she went to her uncle’s house and wasn’t at home?” the police officer in charge of registration asked.

“Perhaps… perhaps… she just came back…” The owner was very embarrassed and quickly took out a string of coins. “This is a small token of our appreciation. Please take it for some tea, sirs.”

The police officer waved his hand and said, “We don’t take money. You must be honest when cooperating with the government’s census! Your daughter was clearly at home, why did you say she wasn’t? This is deceiving the government!”

The tofu shop owner bowed low, repeatedly making gestures of apology. “Yes, yes, it was all my foolishness.” He cursed silently in his heart. When the Australians came to check the household registration today, he didn’t know their ways. Fearing that the “overseas barbarians” might cause trouble if they saw his daughter, he had told her to hide in the livestock shed and lied that she wasn’t home. He never expected these Australians to be so meticulous as to even check this stinking shed! Now that he had been caught in this mistake, he was sure they would demand a hefty sum. They didn’t even want a few hundred coins; it seemed only silver would do.

With a sorrowful face, he fumbled in his waist pouch, took out a tael of silver, and tried to stuff it into the leading police officer’s hand, only to be rejected again. Liu San watched coolly as the assistants’ eyes practically shot fire. He couldn’t help but find it amusing.

Liu San asked the owner to show him the well. The owner didn’t understand his intention, but seeing that the Australian constables repeatedly refused money and made no attempt to deliberately make things difficult, he was both surprised and much more at ease. When Liu San wanted to see the well, he took him to see it.

The well was in the kitchen behind the shop, and it had a wooden railing, which Liu San was seeing for the first time. Liu San had him draw a bucket of water. He tested it with his hand; the water temperature was very low—a characteristic of high-quality water. He had no biochemical equipment with him, so he could only rely on visual inspection. He took a water sample in a glass test tube and examined it in the sunlight: the water was clear and transparent, with very few suspended particles. He tore a strip from his litmus paper and tested the pH, which was weakly alkaline. Overall, the water quality was not bad. He thought, no wonder people say you need good water to make good tofu. In ancient times, without running water, a good well was indispensable.

The owner watched him fiddle with things, not knowing what he was doing, and didn’t dare to ask. Suddenly, he heard the Australian constable ask:

“When was this well dug?”

“It’s been passed down in my family…” The owner didn’t know why he was suddenly so interested in the well. “This tofu shop has been passed down to me for five generations,” the owner said with a sense of pride.

Liu San nodded. No wonder his family could make tofu.

“Your water is quite good,” Liu San asked. “How do the people on this street usually get water for drinking and daily use?”

The owner didn’t understand his meaning and said, “Some families have their own wells. Those without wells either get water from the public wells or buy it.”

Some public wells were dug by the government, but more were funded by citizens or dug by wealthy families as a “charitable act.” The water quality varied. Good wells could be used for making tea, while the poor ones were only suitable for washing clothes and couldn’t be drunk at all.

The water that was bought was carried by water carriers from the Pearl River. Although the river water was turbid, it was running water and not as “heavy” as most well water. After being purified with alum, it could be used. Even families with wells often bought river water because their well water was of poor quality.

A higher grade of water was the mountain spring water transported into the city by water carts from places like Baiyun Mountain and Yuexiu Mountain. It was exclusively for the use of large teahouses, brothels, and wealthy officials’ households for making tea and cooking. Ordinary families couldn’t afford it.

“Is the water from the public wells here good?” Liu San asked. Traditional tofu making has high requirements for water quality, so the tofu shop owner had a good ability to judge the quality of water.

“The water from the few public wells on Huifu Street can be used for washing and cooking at home, but not for making tea,” the owner said.

Liu San nodded. Not being able to make tea meant the mineral content of the well water was high. Guangzhou was located by the Pearl River and also had spring water flowing down from the mountains to the north, like Yuexiu Mountain, so its groundwater was very rich. However, shallow groundwater is easily polluted, especially in ancient cities with inadequate sewage facilities. The seepage of wastewater discharged by a large, dense population could easily contaminate the groundwater. This was an important reason why some large northern cities in history had to be relocated every time they were rebuilt.

Guangzhou, with its abundant water sources, was much better off in comparison. Moreover, the Chinese had the habit of boiling water before drinking it, so the hidden dangers in the water supply were not particularly prominent.

Returning to the shop from the kitchen, he saw that the young woman had already washed her face and combed her hair. She was now filling out the household registration form. Liu San glanced at her and saw her youthful face. She looked to be only fourteen or fifteen. Perhaps because she was born into a tofu-making family and had a higher protein intake than most people, her skin was fair and delicate, and she had a plump, lovely appearance. For some reason, he thought of his son who had stayed behind in Lin’gao, and then of Xuan Chun, and his heart stirred.

Liu San spent a few days running around the city with the census team and got a general understanding of Guangzhou’s public health situation. A more comprehensive picture would have to wait until the census team’s data was compiled. Liu San returned to his office first.

Guangzhou Special Municipality did not yet have a Health Bureau. He had come to Guangzhou with the title of “Commissioner of the Ministry of Public Welfare and Labor’s Health Department,” and his office was temporarily set up within Lin Biguang’s Comprehensive Management Office.

Back in his office, Liu San began to organize the information he had collected, especially what he had seen and heard over the past few days. In his opinion, Guangzhou’s public health was severely substandard. But under such harsh conditions, the compiled data from the Grand Library showed no records of “major epidemics.” Could it be that the people of ancient times, living in such a harsh environment, had stronger resistance?

Liu San summoned Jia Jue to inquire. Jia Jue said that during the “Huinan Tian” every year, there would inevitably be a “seasonal epidemic” in the city, with many deaths. In the summer, there was also the so-called “fasha.” But the deceased were mostly poor people, so few people cared. As for small-scale epidemics, they were not uncommon in the city. In other words, in this time and space, an epidemic outbreak that killed a few hundred people was not considered a big deal.

Liu San wanted to ask for more details, but Jia Jue was not a doctor and couldn’t provide much information. He said that if Liu San wanted to learn more, he could ask the medical officials of the prefecture and county medical offices.

The medical office was the state and county’s medical administration and official hospital. The head of the state medical office was called the Dianke, and the head of the county office was called the Xunke. Each had several medical staff under them. As they were personnel of a government-run institution, the common people collectively called them “medical officials.”

China had a tradition of providing official medical services at the local level since the Tang and Song dynasties. In the Ming Dynasty, every county had a “medical office” set up. On the one hand, it handled medical administrative affairs and provided free medical care for the officials and laborers of the county yamen. On the other hand, it also treated the common people and even made house calls. When Hai Rui was the magistrate of Chun’an County, he wrote a “Regulations for Reform” about rectifying the functions of government agencies and changing their work style. Under the item “Medical Official Regular Staff,” there was a record of “four doctors.”

Guangzhou Prefecture was a major thoroughfare and the provincial capital. The medical offices of the one prefecture and two counties had more than a dozen medical officials. When Liu San read the reference materials compiled by the Urban Engineering Department, he knew that the business of these medical officials was very prosperous. Except for the heads of the offices, the Dian and Xun, none of them had a salary. Their income came from the consultation fees for treating the common people.

Although they had no salary, many people vied for this position, even offering bribes to get it. Hai Rui also wrote in his “Regulations for Reform”: “The medical official examines the symptoms and pulse, understands the properties of medicine, to benefit the sick of a county. Recently, many have paid bribes to get this position, seeking to profit from their appointments…” In fact, except for the heads of the offices, the Dian and Xun, none of the medical officials had a salary. Their income came from the consultation fees for treating the common people. Because the common people always believed that public hospitals were more reliable than itinerant doctors, the business of the medical officials was prosperous. However, truly skilled doctors disdained this, and conversely, the skill level of most medical officials was not hard to imagine.

Soon after entering the city, Liu San had met with the medical officials of the prefecture and county, hoping to see if he could organize a simple traditional Chinese medicine hospital with them. As a result, when he discussed the contents of some of the must-read books for doctors at that time, some of them were dumbfounded and couldn’t say a word. Some hadn’t even read the “Mai Jing” (The Pulse Classic) and didn’t know the basic properties of medicine. Instead, after the meeting, they immediately presented him with several books like the “Huangdi Sünü Xinjing” (The Yellow Emperor’s and the Plain Girl’s Heart Classic). Some even offered him aphrodisiacs… which greatly annoyed Liu San.

Fortunately, a few of them seemed to have genuine talent and knowledge. Lin Biguang had someone invite them for a talk.