Chapter 600: Crawley's Fantastical Journey (III)
Long before setting sail from Batavia, Old William had already prepared two suits for Crawley. Old William knew that if he wanted to cultivate this nephew of an old friend who had come to his door, he absolutely had to connect with a certain power base.
Old William firmly believed in this. He himself had relied on precisely this point to transform from an old mercenary who chewed tobacco leaves and sold his life for others into the present-day Mr. William, a respected wealthy merchant.
Therefore, Old William paid great attention to details.
And so, Crawley pulled out from his luggage those two simple outfits that had never once been worn.
"Very good, now we enter the city. Bring the clothes and the parchment."
"The parchment I'm thinking of?"
"Yes, there are people at the banquet who care about it. I saw them yesterday."
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Getting from the dock to Hongji Fort was very convenient. After disembarking, there were thin, dark-skinned Annamese sedan-chair bearers in neat orange-yellow vests soliciting customers.
Since arriving in the East, Crawley had ridden in sedan chairs in many countries and city-states, their forms largely similar with minor differences. So he very naturally hired two sedan chairs with Old William, and they entered the city one after the other.
The dock was very close to Hongji Fort's West Gate, only 00 meters away, just within the optimal coverage range of the cannons on the city wall.
However, what drew Crawley's attention was not the cannons atop the wall, but the cinder road beneath his feet.
The cinder road, mixed with gravel, was black, glossy, and flat, leading all the way from the dock into the city. Looking out from the sedan chair, Crawley saw several more identical cinder roads east of the dock leading inland. On the road surface, an endless stream of Annamese pushed carts, shoveling black coal down ramps into the ship cabins.
"Uncle William, is the Ming country very cold? Why is the port exporting coal in large quantities?"
"It's not cold, at least not in Macau or Tayouan."
Crawley's question was somewhat profound. How could Old William, a man of the seventeenth century, possibly understand the relationship between industrialization and coal? After thinking for a moment, Old William finally gave an ambiguous answer: "Perhaps it's because of the munitions factories and the mint. The Earl needs many firearms and cannons to maintain the security of his territory."
Crawley turned his head again, glanced at the massive scale of the coal-transporting procession, temporarily suppressed the doubts in his heart, and accepted Old William's explanation. Only, he privately amended one point: "Not maintain, but expand his territory."
Soon, the sedan-chair procession arrived at the brand-new West Gate of Hongji Fort.
Present-day Hongji Fort, at least on its periphery, was already a proper Ming-style city. The city wall, built entirely of red brick, was grand and thick; even without counting the cannons atop it, it gave one a sense of solidity and security.
As usual, troops were guarding the city gate, and in considerable numbers, with sandbags and iron-wire barricades fully in place — a clear state of combat readiness.
The reason for this was still the slow transmission of information in this era.
Although a treaty had been signed not long ago in the national capital, Shenglong Prefecture, there was a process between a treaty's signing and its taking effect. This meant the Annamese had still not withdrawn their troops — after their brief engagement and rout last time, the Annamese had promptly redeployed no fewer than three armies, totaling about ten thousand men, from the Zheng River line to the outskirts of Hongji.
The number of people entering and exiting the city gate was considerable, and the inspection at the gate was also very strict.
Generally speaking, for local natives wanting to enter the city, the difficulty was higher. But for Ming People entering the city, it was very convenient, because everyone had identification documents.
Regarding identification documents, ordinary people had stiff paper cards with stamps and serial numbers, while someone like Old William possessed an A-Class Passport with a cowhide cover, issued by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
A-Class Passports were scarce in number, all issued to certified Dutch collaborators, Portuguese collaborators, and Spanish collaborators. The content on the passport was not much different from later generations, especially the large color headshot, which was remarkably lifelike.
Holding an A-Class Passport, Old William easily brought Crawley into the city.
Considering military factors, the total area of Hongji Fort was not large, which made it easier to construct and defend. In fact, Hongji Fort could not even compare to many of Great Ming's county seats. To be precise, this place was a large-scale military barracks.
After entering the city, Crawley took in the entire interior of the fort at a single glance.
The whole of Hongji Fort was divided into four functional zones: military camp, ordnance, storage, and the administrative district. The neatly planned city interior was uniformly separated by straight cinder roads, looking clean and clear.
"A brand-new fortress."
As he said this, Crawley suddenly realized something: ever since he had arrived at Hongji Port, every road his eyes had seen was uniformly neat and clean, without a single piece of trash on the ground.
Much less the streets full of excrement and urine like in London.
One had to realize, this was a busy port. Traveling from Britain to East Asia, he had seen far too many port cities along the way, yet not one was like this — clean and tidy, as if it were his own living room.
Realizing the crux of the matter, Crawley remarked with emotion: "Uncle William, the owner of this place is very fond of sweeping the courtyard — a kind of respectable Eastern mindset."
Old William burst out laughing: "This is merely a crude colonial outpost just acquired. When we reach Tayouan, you will see a true paradise on earth! Oh, my God, forgive me, a paradise actually located in East Asia, inhabited by yellow-skinned people!"
As he spoke, Old William prodded the sedan-chair bearer's back with his cane, directing them to the administrative district.
Old William, thoroughly familiar with the Crossing Faction, even on his first visit to Hongji Fort, easily found the standard supporting facility of any city under that faction's banner: the bathhouse.
Crawley naturally did not refuse the service of bathing.
It was now the 1630s; the ideas of the Renaissance had taken deep root in people's hearts. Mainstream European thought was already transitioning toward pragmatic capitalism, and the filthy lifestyle concepts of the medieval era were being questioned and discarded.
Not to mention in Hongji — ever since Crawley arrived in the sweltering heat of South Asia, he had bathed quite often.
The Dutch in Batavia had long since aligned their urban sanitation standards with Tayouan, building several new bathhouses in the city.
Some things cannot be blockaded, even if the Transmigrators tightly control the channels of knowledge dissemination.
The Dutch were one of the most intelligent populations of the seventeenth century. Living long-term in Tayouan, they had witnessed with their own eyes Tayouan Fortress transform step by step into a flourishing metropolis in the hands of the Transmigrators, and had seen with their own eyes that this city never experienced epidemic diseases.
In this process, the Red Hairs had already more or less figured out how to prevent clustered populations from contracting the Black Death or dysentery, and the connection between public sanitation and large-scale infectious diseases.
Even a crude imitation could produce very powerful results. This was an era of racing to the bottom; a little attention to public sanitation could yield considerable returns for a city.
The boiler room, belching black smoke, provided the administrative district with clean drinking water and bathing water around the clock. After dismissing the sedan-chair bearers, Crawley and Old William entered the bathhouse, spent a little money, and took a shower under a large iron showerhead.
Afterwards, Crawley changed into a brown, thin cotton cloth suit, and with Old William's practiced help, tied a blue necktie.
Although somewhat unaccustomed to it, Crawley was, after all, a man who had received a noble education. He possessed all the basic physical etiquette such as standing straight with chest out and head up to maintain his bearing. With the suit on, combined with his beard and slightly plump figure, a strong old-fashioned gentlemanly air emerged.
By the time the two emerged from the bathhouse, it was already three or four o'clock in the afternoon. Leaning on his cane, Old William walked leisurely, heading straight for the center of the administrative district.
At the center of the administrative district, there now stood a square compound. Inside the compound was a two-story building built of red brick, flanked by splayed wing buildings, very much resembling early Soviet architecture.
After inspection, registration, and presenting their invitation, passing through two guard posts, Old William led his nephew into the compound.
The rumored banquet had not yet begun, but Old William and Crawley had arrived at just the right time: the handover ceremony before the banquet was about to be held.
What first entered Crawley's sight was the venue.
Around a hundred or so wooden chairs were arranged on the cinder flat in the middle of the compound, with an aisle left down the center.
Opposite the chairs was a row of long tables forming a simple rostrum.
The seating block of chairs was already seventy percent occupied. Among them were not only Easterners in long robes and soft caps, but also quite a few white-skinned, blue-eyed Europeans seated at the back. Moreover, some people seated in the very front row of the block immediately made Crawley understand the origin of the outfit he was wearing: everyone's style was the same.
In the next moment, Old William gently nudged his nephew with his elbow, then whispered: "Crawley, open your eyes wide. I will point out those important figures to you. They are the most powerful people in the East, the source of our wealth!"
"Understood, Uncle William."
Following this, Old William first went to the back rows of the seating block, greeting and exchanging pleasantries with a group of foreign merchants, mainly Dutch, and incidentally introducing his distant nephew to everyone.
After this, Old William led his nephew to sit in an inconspicuous corner, and began pointing out to him the identities of the various groups in the square: which were traditional Ming Nobility, which were local Annamese Native Nobility, and which were Transmigrators — these needed no pointing out; virtually all Transmigrators, in this Annam season, were Wearing thin Western Suits or jackets, tall and imposing with an air of Blessing, very easy to recognize.
Not long after, once the guests had all arrived, a simple handover ceremony began.
First, the Transmigrator Shao Qiang took the stage, smiling as he spoke a few words. Next, acting as the guest emcee, he guided two Annamese to the front of the stage.
These two Annamese were one civil and one military, one old and one young, Wearing an Official Robe and armor respectively.
After that, another Transmigrator took the stage and, amid friendly applause from the audience, exchanged something resembling One Copy of a document with the elderly Annamese official.
Following that, another Transmigrator Wearing an Army General Officer Uniform took the stage and symbolically handed a Matchlock to the beaming Annamese general — at this point Both Sides held a freeze-frame, facing the audience, presumably for the convenience of taking commemorative photos.
Next, the most solemn Scene of the day appeared: the honored guests collectively rose and, together with the Owner, moved to the side of the venue.
Here, a large object covered with a tarpaulin had been placed long beforehand. Crawley privately estimated that whatever was under the tarpaulin was probably about the size of a four-wheeled carriage from his homeland.
A piece of red cloth was also draped over the mysterious object, seemingly just waiting for the leadership to come cut the ribbon.
Of Course, the leadership would not miss the opportunity to cut the ribbon.
Very soon, amid a chorus of exclamations, a monstrously shaped Cannon with a short, thick Cannon Barrel and a Caliber of a full 170 Millimeters — a large Mortar — was presented before everyone.
Such a ferocious instrument of destruction was naturally no nameless thing. Aside from its formidable six-wheeled carriage, the cannon's body was also engraved with three savagely sprawling, sinister Chinese characters: Ge Long De.
End of Chapter
