Chapter 232: All the Worthies Have Arrived (V)

After his secret talk with Xu Xinsu that day, Du Dewei soon left Yuegang.

Once back on Haimen Island, Du Dewei quickly shut himself away with Hu Ba for a private council, during which a fierce argument broke out. Of course, as always, the one who won in the end was still Du Dewei.

And so the two parted ways the very next day. Du Dewei headed north to an unknown destination, while Hu Ba went straight back to Zhongzuosuo to join Li Kuiqi.

Leaving aside how Li Kuiqi picked up the pieces in Xiamen, Du Dewei's fleet of twenty assorted vessels, after splitting from Hu Ba that day, did not delay a single moment but sailed north all the way to Fuzhou.

With the southerly winds now in season, the Du Family's twenty-odd ships made good speed northward. Despite being slowed by some battered fishing boats, they still reached the waters of the Luoshan Archipelago, the northernmost part of the Haitan Archipelago, by dusk on the third day.

After dropping anchor in a random bay at East Luo Island, just over thirty kilometers from the Min River Estuary, Du Dewei changed into a fisherman's short jacket and trousers early the next morning, then picked an inconspicuous broken-down fishing boat from the fleet and set course for Fuzhou City.

Hugging the coastline north the whole way, they turned west upon reaching the Min River Estuary, winding and twisting along until past noon, when the fishing boat finally found a spot to dock at Jinglou Gate Pier north of Fuzhou City.

Casually tossing a handful of copper coins to send off a rat-faced tax clerk, Du Dewei stood on the pier and glanced left and right, then pressed his bamboo hat down a little lower before saying, "Let's go." And so the party of three walked in silence toward Jinglou Gate.

Outside Jinglou Gate lay the government-run Minjiang Chuanchang and large private shipyards. Masts clustered like a forest, countless stacks of timber and ship gear piled along the river, large private docks arrayed densely, streams of people and clouds of craftsmen, every sort of personage gathered here.

Du Dewei and his two companions saw a Western scene right here at the docks today.

They had not walked far after coming ashore when a strange procession appeared ahead: two bailiffs in official robes walked at the very back with hands clasped behind them, seven or eight unofficial runners walked in front bearing clubs and iron chains; and sandwiched in the middle of the procession were a dozen or so prisoners, hands bound and foreheads marked with black lacquer.

The procession had not been moving long before it turned into a Qingshi Great Pier.

This pier was clearly the property of a wealthy merchant: built entirely of uniform long blocks of large Qingshi stone, the gaps between the stones filled with a fine mortar, flat and smooth, solid and imposing.

Three brand-new Great Fortune Ships were moored at the pier at that moment. And below the ships, a team of beggars in tattered rags that barely covered their bodies were being herded aboard by sailors in short robes. The last thing Du Dewei saw as he walked further away was those bailiffs, laughing and chatting, handing the prisoners over to the sailors on the pier.

Three ordinary fishermen passed through Jinglou Gate with ease — though of course, the toll of a few copper coins still had to be paid. After entering Fuzhou City, the three first ate a bowl of pig's blood rice noodles at a roadside shop, then proceeded as planned toward Ship Street.

Ship Street was right by Jinglou Gate, laid out in the traditional front-street-back-river pattern: the street in front of the shops, the Wuhui River behind them, making it convenient for boats to unload cargo. Since most of the merchants on this street were set up to support the shipyards outside the city, the street housed many offices of shipyard owners, as well as wholesale shops for raw materials like rope, sails, nails, and timber, plus the Ship Guild Hall.

Du Dewei had been here many times in his youth when running ships. And just two years ago, he had come here to buy a second-hand Bird Ship, so revisiting old haunts today did not feel unfamiliar.

The only thing that surprised him was the ground beneath his feet.

The dirt ground in his memory had, at some unknown point, been replaced with Qingshi flagstones, and just like that pier outside, the gaps between the slabs were filled with a kind of gray fine mortar; the Qingshi slabs were laid so densely and evenly they were like a flat mirror.

The street astonished Du Dewei not only for its ground, but in other ways too: there was a latrine at the street's head, and old men in short numbered vests constantly swept and sprinkled water along the street. The whole street was clean and orderly — even the beggars that were a fixture of every main street and alley were nowhere to be seen here.

The three walked like this along the street, at once familiar and strange, until they reached its end, and then Du Dewei saw the destination of this trip: a shop named Haedong Trading.

The scene here again did not match the image in Du Dewei's memory: the row of shops of varying heights that once stood here had now vanished without a trace. In their place was a row of seven large storefronts, all of identical design.

These seven large storefronts were all uniformly built of red brick, their outer walls brushed snow-white with lime, exceptionally imposing. Apart from the first shop, whose door plaque bore the words "Haedong Trading" in gold lettering, the doorways of the other several shops each had lacquered signboards reading "Maritime Shipping," "Wholesale," "Labor," and other types of business.

A great number of horse-drawn carts and sedan chairs were currently parked in front of the shops, and many men dressed in silks and satins, accompanied by servants — merchants and steward types — were bustling in and out of the several shops.

Seeing such a clamorous scene, Du Dewei could not help frowning slightly. He was dressed as a fisherman right now; barging in to look for someone might well stir up trouble. So instead of approaching, he led his attendants further down the street to wander — no matter how good business was, closing time always came.

Unexpectedly, the three had not gone far when they came upon another Western scene.

The original location of the seven large shops was at the end of Ship Street, right next to Ganye Temple and a stone tablet yard.

Now, Ganye Temple, which had covered dozens of mu, had long since vanished without a trace, and the bald donkeys of the temple had likewise disappeared to who knows where.

And the yard once filled with half-finished stone tablets had met the same fate. Originally, there had also been a fat tablet-carver here who had left a deep impression on Du Dewei; the man was of his own surname, also Du. What made Du Dewei unforgettable was that Du Fatty always wore a bitter face and told everyone, "Ah, this year the old masters are all living healthy and well — this business is impossible to do..."

..... What had replaced those two places was a large stretch of open-air cargo warehouses along the river. And what most astonished the three country bumpkins was the iron wire trap outside the warehouses.

A two-meter-high iron wire trap, fixed to thick wooden posts driven into the ground at intervals, stretched out long along one side of Ship Street, isolating the cargo yard laid out along the Wuhui River from the outside world.

When Du Dewei, amazed, stepped up to the iron wire trap and reached out to grab and pull at it, the idlers watching the excitement nearby had long since revealed mocking grins: three more country bumpkins. Soon after, the cargo yard guards patrolling along the iron wire trap came over and, without a word, gave Du Dewei two whacks through the wire with their clubs: "Get lost! If you break it, we'll drag you off to labor to pay for it!"

The three bumpkins dressed as fishermen were driven off amid a burst of jeering laughter.

Of course, Du Dewei did not go far. He merely walked on a little way before stopping, then peered through the gaps in the iron wire trap to observe the cargo yard.

The land where the main hall of Ganye Temple once stood had long since been leveled and compacted, and covered with a layer of fine gravel. On large thick wood boards propped up by square stones, stack after stack of Cement bags were piled high; besides that, bamboo sheds had been erected over some plots piled with Calcium Oxide and sand. Further in the distance were neat stacks of red bricks.

And right at the entrance to the cargo yard, separated by the iron wire trap, large numbers of foremen and steward types were haggling with accountants in front of a row of wooden desks. Teams of laborers were pushing carts, hauling the Cement, red bricks, and Calcium Oxide from the yard to the river quay — where a string of boats waited in orderly line for work.

Through the iron wire trap, Du Dewei soon spotted an acquaintance: that stone-tablet-carving Du Fatty.

The Du Fatty of now was utterly transformed from the man in Du Dewei's memory. This fellow, his face full of insolent pride, dressed in a Songjiang Fine Cloth Robe, sat with the swagger of a great lord in a row with other craftsmen behind a line of Calcium Oxide. What's more, the fellow had a desk in front of him, with tea and pastries on it.

And behind the fellow stood two disciples, one on the left and one on the right, bursting with bullish arrogance.

The two guardian generals each had one hand on a hip and the other holding a shop banner; the two banners were embroidered respectively with two large lines of text: "First-Class Qualified Professional Flooring" and "Century-Old Stele Carving Smooth Hands."

Du Dewei stood behind the iron wire trap until five in the afternoon, and only then did he feel he had seen the Western scene through and through. Apart from the bags holding the Cement, which he did not understand, he had more or less figured out seventy to eighty percent of the operation here.

Now it was time to get down to business.

The medieval era had no Electricity, so ordinary shops generally closed quite early. Typically, from the hour of You (17:00) onward, people began shutting their doors one after another.

After loitering outside the cargo yard until past five, Du Dewei reckoned the time was about right and led his attendants back to the entrance of the Haedong warehouse.

Seeing that the row of large shops had grown much quieter, he did not hesitate this time. Casually picking one to enter, he walked straight to a counter arrayed with various red and yellow straw mats and asked the clerk inside, "Sorry to trouble you, brother — might I ask if Shopkeeper Zhou Xingchi is in?"

The clerk behind the counter was first taken aback, then immediately caught on, and with a face wreathed in smiles said, "He is, he is. Esteemed guests, please follow me."

With that, the clerk stepped out from behind the counter and eagerly led them out the door, turned left, and entered the last shop of this row of storefronts... the whole way, the clerk did not show the slightest concern about the three men's fisherman garb.

This shop sold wood boards, and the main hall was piled high with machine-made Wood Boards of various thicknesses. A moment later, Du Dewei's party passed through the main hall and was led to a study in the Backyard, where they sat and were served tea.

After half a cup of tea's time, the door curtain lifted and a tall, fair-skinned middle-aged man walked in.

The man cupped his fist in salute the moment he entered and said, "I am Zhou Xingchi. May I ask the honored guest's surname?"

Du Dewei hurriedly rose at this, likewise cupping his fist to return the salute, and then, following the code phrase Xu Xinsu had taught him, said, "I dare not, the surname is of no consequence — I am Zhou Runfa."

When the middle-aged man heard the three words "Zhou Runfa," he chuckled, first gestured for Du Dewei to take a seat, and then said warmly, "Then you must be Shopkeeper Du Dewei in person? I am Xue Haiyuan."