Chapter 639: Little New Year

January 10, 165, the 10th day of the 1st month of the Yihai year in the lunar calendar.

From any angle, the South Seas development program, slowly grinding forward through hardship, was an undertaking of incomparable importance to the nation and its people.

Yet for the subjects of Great Ming far away in Guangdong, they had absolutely no conception of what was happening in that distant foreign land. The common people lacked both channels of information and any understanding of what pioneering entailed.

What the common people cared about, now and always, were the most basic, most everyday things: firewood, rice, oil, and salt.

Time flows swiftly by. That brutal battle on Zhenghe Island was already, almost unnoticed, a matter of months past. In the blink of an eye, it was now the beginning of 165.

With the New Year season approaching, the Great Ming subjects living in ancient Guangzhou City walked with hurried steps, their faces wreathed in cheer. Neighbors meeting on the street loudly exchanged New Year greetings, and every household busied itself with preparations for the holiday.

This year in Guangzhou City, because life had generally improved, the festive atmosphere was far stronger than in days past.

Memories are hard to erase. Any "lower-to-middle-class person" in Guangzhou City over the age of thirty had a profound impression and understanding of the term "New Year's Pass."

As far back as the Tianqi Emperor's reign, the New Year season in this city of Guangzhou had grown fainter year by year. Including the early years of the subsequent Chongzhen Emperor, the term "New Year's Pass," in the memory of the neighborhood folk, had never been a good omen.

In those times, official taxes grew heavier year by year, and all sorts of Liaoxiang levies and training surcharges were successively imposed by the imperial court. On top of that, officials and clerks of every stripe seized the chance to hitch a ride, impose extra assessments, skim off silver, and cover their deficits, so that the entire populace of the South's foremost city, young and old, was ruthlessly crushed by the court until they could scarcely breathe.

In those years, every trade withered, and the people's livelihood was bitter. Apart from those great and wealthy households, for the common folk, celebrating the New Year was truly celebrating a calamity.

As soon as the New Year's Pass arrived, creditors came knocking. No one knew how many old households in Guangzhou City, unable to repay their debts, were reduced to utterly destitute, ruined families, their young and old becoming street-corner corpses from starvation once the new year turned.

Worse still were those who hanged themselves in suicide, sold their children, or saw their families shattered and destroyed — no one knew how many there were.

Celebrating the New Year was passing through the Gate of Hell.

Yet, strange to say, from that point on, everyone's lives gradually began to improve after the Chongzhen Emperor took the throne.

First, industry and commerce flourished.

Almost overnight, from some unknown foreign land, many finely crafted daily sundries mysteriously arrived.

The wealthy merchants of Guangzhou City, catching wind of this, stirred into action and sailed out to sea one after another to seek the source of goods and contact the sellers.

From this, things gradually spiraled beyond control. First, the laborers and porters at the various water and land docks began to prosper: once they started work, there was an endless stream of goods to unload, and their wages grew larger and larger.

As the foreign goods spread throughout the Pearl River Delta, large numbers of people and local product resources subsequently joined the trade. Wealthy merchants began spending silver to recruit workers to go to the foreign land and labor for others. Later on, there were even those "kind-hearted" masters who directly sent household servants to "collect" people off the streets, or simply set up porridge kitchens on the street; once someone drank the master's porridge, they were stuffed into the lower decks and hauled off to the foreign land to be exchanged for goods.

Later still, through a chain reaction, the entire city was mobilized. Countless small and medium merchants benefited from the arrival of the foreign goods. Primitive industrial clusters began to emerge — even a loser like Pu Ada, who wove hemp sacks by the stinking ditch, could prosper, hiring workers and leading his whole family in weaving export hemp sacks day and night, and still couldn't meet the demand.

In this way, Guangdong's primitive economy, previously mired in stagflation and hardship, gradually became an appendage of industrialization and was forcibly transformed. Although the common people were passive participants, they genuinely benefited and reaped the rewards.

After that came the story everyone knows — from above, with a "Clang!", a Regional Commander Cao dropped down, bringing elite troops to hunt down and fight the sea bandits, and in one year's time swept clean the Fujian-Guangdong Sea Bandits who had plagued the region for years.

Amidst their astonishment, the people only gradually came to realize: so those industries in the foreign land all belonged to this Regional Commander Cao?!

So after all that fuss, were all of us, young and old, just laboring for Regional Commander Cao?

The eyes of the masses are sharp. When everyone discovered that the one who brought them life-saving silver and saved their families was not the Chongzhen Emperor but this countryside Regional Commander, this man Cao from the foreign land rapidly grew close to the subjects of Guangzhou.

After that, life got better year by year. The land of the Pearl River changed with each passing day, as if overnight everyone had become busy, the pace of life so fast that the ancients, accustomed to a slow rhythm, were overwhelmed.

Even more utterly shocking things were yet to come: in just a few short years, a New City rose from the ground, completely overturning the understanding of the Ming People.

Clean and tidy paved ground, spacious and extravagantly large red-brick sewer systems, straight and beautiful broad roads, and those brick houses that sprang up one after another.

Although this city lacked even the most basic City Wall, the new residents who swarmed in voted with their feet: the people believed this city was safer than the Old City.

Those gunboats, mountain-like, that cruised the Pearl River, and the elite troops who campaigned east and west daily without a single defeat, provided the endorsement for this belief.

Now, another year's New Year's Pass had arrived.

In the Yihai year's New Year's Pass, the ancient Guangzhou City was everywhere filled with a cheerful atmosphere. Amid the sporadic firecrackers set off by urchins at their doorsteps, the shops in the city all had red paper bearing the character for "Blessing" and couplets pasted on their fronts, their shelves piled high with a dazzling array of New Year goods.

The neighbors coming to buy all kinds of New Year goods were especially numerous this year. Everyone wore brand-new robes, their faces generally ruddy and their spirits vigorous, pulling out silver coins and paper notes of various kinds from their pockets to exchange for great bundles of New Year goods. Encountering an acquaintance, they would laboriously lift their purchases to offer a salute, loudly exchange a few words of domestic chat, and offer congratulations for the new spring.

At the same time, both sides of the streets were also piled with fresh flowers brought in from outside the city. Usually at this time of year, it was customary for large quantities of fresh flowers to enter Guangzhou City for sale.

In fact, the "flower street stroll" activity that later generations are accustomed to first appeared in the Ming Dynasty. And in the past two years, as the "state of the world" gradually improved and "public funds" became ample, the traditional flower street stroll organized by the Prefectural Governor's yamen in Guangzhou City had also grown considerably in scale.

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"Roasted potatoes! Sugar-sand potatoes, salt-sand potatoes, roasted potatoes!"

At this time of year, when merchants must contend for every advantage, the hardworking peddlers naturally had to hold fast to their posts on the front line.

Yang Liushui reached out and, using a bright, white electroplated iron clip, deftly plucked a roasted potato, its skin split and flesh bursting open, from the batch.

At the same time, Yang Liushui's mouth was not idle; he continued loudly hawking his wares, drawing passersby to buy roasted potatoes.

If a person from later generations were to come before Yang Liushui's mobile cart at this moment, a familiar smile would appear on their face: on the cart was a blue iron oil drum commonly seen in later times, with a square draft door cut out at the bottom and wisps of cooking smoke curling from the top.

In this era, without a doubt, a blue iron drum was a novel, high-end curiosity. No one knew where Yang Liushui had gotten such a discarded oil drum — this thing was unquestionably a controlled item, and unless it was scrapped, it was unlikely to end up among the civilian populace.

Using the electroplated clip to place the potato onto an equally bright, white electroplated iron plate, Yang Liushui raised his face, his smile ingratiating, and asked, "Customers, would you like sugar-sand or salt-sand?"

The customers were two women wearing pretty long skirts and carrying rouge and face powder, clearly out for a stroll.

The two women lowered their heads and whispered to each other for a moment, then instructed Yang Liushui: "Half of each."

"Coming right up!" Yang Liushui, upon hearing this, deftly cut the potato in two with a knife, then picked up a fine iron wire mesh sieve, and sifted the salt shaker and sugar shaker separately, sprinkling seasoning onto the two potato halves — throughout the entire process, his hands never touched the potato.

Finally, after packing the potato into two exquisite straw-woven baskets, the customers, satisfied, fished out a shiny fifty-cent coin and tossed it into Yang Liushui's hand.

Seeing the clearly lined anti-counterfeiting profile of that man Cao on the silver coin, Liushui's eyebrows bloomed with smiles as he tucked the coin into his pocket, then glared at his son, who was foolishly gawking at the pretty women: "What are you looking at? Hurry up and give the customers their change!"

The half-grown lad, like Yang Liushui, had a round face. The young man was at the age of growing taller, his build lean, wearing a short jacket, cloth shoes, and sporting a short crew cut common among poor families at the time.

Hearing his father's complaint, the lad snapped back to his senses and hurriedly fished out a few loose coins from the money jar, handing them to the customers with a red face.

And so, accompanied by a few soft laughs from the women, Yang Liushui wrapped up a deal.

Novel things always draw attention. Currently in Guangzhou City, itinerant peddlers with iron drum carts like Yang Liushui were very few in number. So whenever he set up his stall, business was continuous.

Furthermore, things like the electroplated clip, salt powder, sugar powder, contactless sales, and other such attractive items and innovations also added considerable luster to Yang Liushui's business.

Thus, by the time Yang Liushui's stall had moved to the front of the South Water Gate, all the raw potatoes he had brought out today, along with some sweet potatoes and taro, were completely sold out.

Of course, closing up early today was also because Yang Liushui had deliberately brought less raw material.

In the afternoon, or as the new parlance had it, around three o'clock. Satisfied, he put out the fire in the stove and patted his son on the head: "Let's go, home."

The half-grown lad gave a hehe smile, expertly slung the leather strap over his shoulder, bent down, and pulled up the cart.

The next moment, accompanied by the turning of mechanical bearings, the wooden wheels emitted a faint creaking sound and briskly carried the cart forward, moving with the steps of father and son.

Yang Liushui's home was at the foot of Middle City Root, a good distance from the South Water Gate. Father and son just pulled the cart like this, traveling the whole way on foot.

Along the way, every household already had New Year oranges, narcissus, and other festive things set out before their halls. Passing by the Old Parade Ground, father and son even stood outside the gate, grinning as they watched the lion dance troupe rehearse for a while.

Just like that, ambling along, Yang Liushui and his son, with rare ease, returned to their own courtyard at Middle City Root.

The courtyard gate was open, and a middle-aged woman in a plain short cloth jacket was busy at the stove in the yard. Thick smoke billowed out, mingled with the savory aroma of chicken and duck.

"His mother."

"You're back."

"Mm. Are all the dishes ready?"

"Still needs some work."

"Then I'll go wash my face and change clothes first."

"Clean up carefully, today is a big day. After washing, remember to change our son's clothes too."

"I know. We're expecting an honored guest, so everyone changes clothes."