Chapter 53

Fifty-Three: Observations at the Great Zhou Slave Market

Many prefectures and counties of the Great Zhou dynasty imitated Chang’an by establishing Eastern and Western Markets.

Not to mention Longcheng County, a strategic chokepoint on the Jiangzhou waterway, where trade from all directions flows continuously, making its Eastern and Western Markets naturally bustling.

The Eastern Market was mostly operated by Han merchants, situated near the wealthy neighborhoods of the county, including Luming Street, catering primarily to Longcheng’s officials and affluent households.

The Western Market was more open, adjacent to Penglang Ferry, gathering visitors from all corners, more international in character, with many Hu merchants stationed there to conduct business. The prosperity of the Western Market had always surpassed that of the Eastern Market.

Thus in the Great Zhou, purchasing goods came to be called “buying east and west.”

Like Chang’an, Luoyang, and many other counties, Longcheng’s slave market was located in Kǒumǎháng, specializing in the trade of slaves, horses, and other livestock—evidencing that their legal status was identical, regarded as private property to be freely selected and bought or sold.

Ouyang Rong had never set foot here before, and was surprised to find no chaos, filth, or vulgar shouting as he had expected—instead… it was orderly.

Along both sides of the street, slaves and livestock were separated; not all slaves were bound and locked in cages—that was the treatment for common slaves. Many high-class slaves were adorned by Hu merchants with clothing and even jewelry to attract wealthy patrons at the entrance.

On a public notice board at the entrance of Kǒumǎháng Street, there was even an official price list for slaves: prices for common slaves, high-class slaves, good horses, famous horses, female slaves, and fine maids, further subdivided by Han and Hu.

But the posted prices were merely reference rates—not upper limits.

The upper limit depended on scarcity: foreign rarities, rare slaves, young and beautiful female slaves, or those skilled in singing and dancing, naturally commanded sky-high prices.

Hu merchants who traveled the four seas to do business were naturally shrewd and profit-driven, well aware of the tastes and preferences of the Great Zhou’s high officials and nobles.

Thus, beautiful concubines and fine horses were the two most expensive items in Kǒumǎháng, forever timeless.

The only slightly reassuring aspect was that the Great Zhou’s slave trade had extremely strict procedures and regulations—after all, slaves were traded alongside horses, which were strategic materials.

At the end of Kǒumǎháng Street stood a Market Commissioner who assisted in management; every slave transaction required an official market voucher issued by the commissioner, or both buyer and seller would be whipped, and the commissioner himself would be held jointly liable.

This was to prevent the wrongful degradation of free persons into slavery; in this dynasty, the boundary between free and slave status was sharply defined, and the regulations on this matter were severe.

It was also for taxation: the taxes levied on slave trade were a source of the Great Zhou’s military funds, so local market commissioners and officials were not fully under the control of the county government—they were directed by specialized bureaus in the Two Capitals and the various circuits.

Local authorities had little influence.

As Ouyang Rong walked through, his horizons expanded.

Entering this street gave him a strange sense of order—civilized yet barbaric, gentle yet violent; most crucially, everyone involved regarded it as perfectly natural, even the slaves themselves, whose grief was not over the existence of slavery, but over why they had fallen into slave status.

To even enter, let alone disrupt, this barbaric order, a mere county magistrate was utterly inadequate—unless one possessed a share of the imperial authority centered in the Two Capitals.

Regarding matters related to Tanlang, Zhen Shi was generous; she merely led Ouyang Rong and his party to glance at the public notice board at the street entrance, then walked straight toward the largest Hu merchant shop in Kǒumǎháng.

Before entering, Ouyang Rong glanced at the embroidered cloth sign above:

Jin Xiao Kǒumǎháng.

The one who greeted them was an Arab merchant, of medium height, with a thick beard, black hair, deep eyes, and a large hooked nose.

Behind the Arab merchant followed two Kunlun slaves, curly-haired, black-skinned, and powerfully built like oxen; these Kunlun slaves mostly came from the southern seas, prized for their diligence, honesty, and endurance—they were seasoned laborers—and the high officials and nobles of the Great Zhou loved to keep them, though mostly not for labor, but to display wealth.

As soon as Ouyang Rong and Zhen Shi’s party entered, the Arab merchant’s sharp eyes beneath his cap fixed on them, as if trying to see through them completely.

Seeing these familiar Central Asian features, and the cloth on his head… Ouyang Rong was startled, studying him from head to toe.

Only after hearing Zhen Shi and the others whisper explanations did he learn that these Arab and Persian merchants in Kǒumǎháng all came from Guangzhou Prefecture in Lingnan Circuit, the most prosperous region of Lingnan.

Although Lingnan Circuit, farther south than Jiangnan Circuit, remained largely undeveloped in many areas and was traditionally viewed by the Great Zhou populace as a land of barbarians—a place of exile where one went and never returned—

There was one exception to this barbaric “south”: Guangzhou, the sole major city of Lingnan Circuit, the Great Zhou’s largest port, economically thriving, crowded with foreign merchants, brimming with foreign merchant ships, radiating an aura of myriad nations paying tribute.

All of this stemmed from a famed trade route known throughout the land and beyond: the Guangzhou Maritime Barbarian Road.

Ouyang Rong guessed it must be an early form of the Maritime Silk Road; he had never imagined the Great Zhou’s maritime trade was so advanced, so widespread, that these Arab and Persian merchants, with their exotic goods and slaves, were so actively present before his eyes.

He had expected the exchange to require interpreters or to hear broken speech, but to his surprise, this Arab merchant spoke Great Zhou’s refined language even more fluently than Ouyang Rong himself—and when introducing himself, he even had a proper, authentic name: “Li Yan.”

Excluding his appearance, he was indistinguishable from a Great Zhou native.

Zhen Shi seemed unfazed by this; without preamble, she gave direct orders:

“Master Li, bring out your finest maids and beauties for my Tanlang to choose from. None older than twenty. If they’re Hu women, they must speak refined speech. No gibberish barbarian tongues—I can’t stand that.”

“Madam, rest assured: the beauties we at Jin Xiao have selected and trained are fully sinicized, fluent in refined speech, gentle and pleasing.”

Li Yan stroked his beard; years of experience gave him confidence, even pride. He chuckled lightly:

“Each has her own charm—sure to please your young master, and bring him home with a lovely consort.”

Zhen Shi made no reply. After a pause, she added: “But my Tanlang’s standards may be slightly… elevated.”

The Arab merchant smiled faintly, unconcerned.

A young man just coming of age, brimming with blood and vigor—how high could his standards really be?

Moreover, this noblewoman clearly had a dominant personality; if this handsome young man had been raised under her thumb, his tastes were easy to guess:

Either he preferred demure, delicate, obedient little beauties—offering him a sense of achievement and satisfaction he could never get from the noblewoman;

Or he favored lively, bold, straightforward seductive older women—soothing the lonely, withdrawn nature bred in a grand household, utterly defenseless against passionate, understanding, nurturing mature women.

Still, Li Yan’s expression grew slightly more serious.

First, he invited the noblewoman and the handsome young man, who was gazing around as if seeing the world for the first time, into a private chamber for tea, leaving the two Kunlun slaves to serve them, while he went to the back to personally select the girls.

Ouyang Rong’s wandering gaze wasn’t because he’d never seen foreigners—he simply found the scene before him absurdly strange. Perhaps to Zhen Shi, Liu Ashan, and others, these were “uncivilized barbarians,” all looking the same and ugly. But to him…

Imagine: a traditional-style shop, a short Arab man flanked by two towering black men, dressed in Han-style finery, speaking fluent Chinese, releasing slaves of various ethnicities from cages, bowing respectfully as he introduces each one to you—dressed in Confucian robes, hair bound, wearing a crown…

Strange. Look again.