Chapter 3: Soda Ash
1421 Words
"Cui He, don't listen to Li Zhi's boasting," Xiao Guangwei said, his voice laced with scorn. "He's all talk. Where would he get the skill to raise that much silver?"
Cui He shot him an annoyed glance. "How would you know? I think Li Zhi seems sharper these past few days. Maybe he does have a way."
"He's just blowing hot air." At his words, Cui He stamped her foot in frustration. "Xiao Guangwei, stop following me around! What will people think if they see you trailing after me like this? I'm going home. You go away, go on!"
Xiao Guangwei’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head with anger, but he didn’t dare offend Cui He. Forcing a smile, he slunk away, defeated.
Li Zhi left the Jingbianfang neighborhood and wandered idly along Hengda Street in the eastern city.
Though the streets were filthy and most pedestrians looked thin and undersized, there was no shortage of well-dressed merchants and freight carts. Tianjin was a thriving commercial hub in this era.
Tianjin Wei served as the gateway to the capital and a crucial hub for north-south transport. Goods traveling by sea from the south had to pass the Hai River north of the city to reach Beijing. For canal transport, the Grand Canal, linking north and south China, ran northwest of the city walls. The capital and northern garrisons relied entirely on grain shipped from the south, whether by the Grand Canal or the sea route, all of which converged at Tianjin. Such a vital trade center was naturally fortified and garrisoned by the Ming court.
In the second year of the Yongle reign, a garrison was established and walls built at the confluence of the Grand Canal, with the river channeled around the city and cannon towers erected for defense. Tianjin Wei's walls spanned nine li in circumference, stood about 35 feet high and 25 feet wide, with gates on all four sides. By the late Ming, it had evolved from a military stronghold into a major commercial city.
Walking along Hengda Street, Li Zhi saw shops lining both sides. Near the middle of the street was a large market dedicated to trading southern silks and cotton cloth. Seeing the textile market, Li Zhi’s thoughts turned to spinning wheels and the jenny. He knew how to make these simple machines, but the textile industry required significant investment and promised slow returns—hardly a solution to the Li family's immediate, pressing crisis.
After walking the length of the street and back without any flash of inspiration for getting rich, Li Zhi turned back towards Jingbianfang. As he entered the neighborhood, a noodle shop caught his eye, specifically the stacks of snow-white steamed buns piled high by its entrance. Li Zhi stopped in his tracks. Seeing those buns, a wave of excitement hit him. How did I not notice these buns before?
It wasn't that he craved a bun. It was because making steamed buns required soda ash as a leavening agent, and soda ash was a key ingredient for the saponification reaction. In other words, the existence of buns in the late Ming meant soda ash was available. I have the crucial material for making soap! Elation surged through him. My first pot of gold is going to come from this soda ash.
Li Zhi strode into the bun shop. "Shop assistant!" he called out loudly.
"Coming!" A waiter in a small cap hurried out. Recognizing the customer, his face broke into a mocking grin. "Li Zhi! Young Master Li! Here for buns or noodles? We don't give credit here, you know."
The waiter knew Li Zhi and was aware of the family's massive debt and financial struggles. A snob at heart, seeing Li Zhi enter the shop, he assumed the young man was about to squander money on a meal despite his family's plight. He couldn't resist the jab, addressing him as "Young Master Li." The final remark about no credit was a blatant dig at someone with no money daring to enter.
When the wall starts to crumble, everyone gives it a shove. When the drum is broken, ten thousand hammers fall on it. With the Li family in trouble, opportunists like this waiter wouldn't miss a chance to kick them while they were down.
Li Zhi didn't bother arguing with him. Tucking a hand into his sleeve, he said calmly, "Chen Deyu, stop your nonsense. I'm not here to eat. Where do you buy the soda ash for your shop? Take me to get some."
The waiter, expecting the simple-minded Li Zhi to be struck speechless by his sarcasm, was taken aback by the retort. He stared for a moment before exclaiming, "Soda ash? What's that? We don't have any."
Li Zhi pointed at the buns. "If you don't have soda ash, what do you use to make these?"
The waiter curled his lip. "That's called jianmian [alkali powder], Young Master Li. What do you need it for? Planning to open a bun shop yourself?"
"Jianmian, you call it. I'm not opening a shop. I need it for something else. Just tell me where you buy it."
"Bought it on North Main Street."
"Where on North Main Street? Take me there."
The waiter rolled his eyes dismissively. "I'm busy. No time to play games with you. Li Zhi, if you're not eating, don't block the way. Other customers can't get through." The shop had exactly one customer nibbling a bun, with no one else moving about.
Li Zhi knew the type—driven by profit, not charity. He pulled 30 copper wen from his robe and smiled. "Take me to buy the jianmian, and this is yours."
Thirty wen wasn't a fortune. In these times, a jin of wheat flour cost about ten wen. In Li Zhi's previous life, cheap flour was a little over 3 yuan per jin, so thirty wen was roughly equivalent to ten modern yuan. But people in this era were poor, their income vastly lower. For someone like Chen Deyu, who might earn forty or fifty wen for a hard day's work, the coins in Li Zhi's hand glittered enticingly. He snatched them up immediately, his grin returning. "Li Zhi, not so dull today, are we? Since you're so keen, I'll do you a favor. The shop's quiet anyway."
After a quick word to the shopkeeper, Chen Deyu led Li Zhi towards North Main Street. Commerce thrived in Tianjin Wei; even houses in the alleys had shop fronts facing the lanes, and often all the shops in a particular neighborhood specialized in one trade: Needle Market Street sold nothing but needles, Pot Shop Street was all pots. Jingbianfang, where Li Zhi lived, was entirely dedicated to southern maritime goods.
After a quarter-hour walk, Chen Deyu led Li Zhi into a neighborhood on North Main Street that dealt in sundry goods from north and south, stopping before an inconspicuous shop. "That's the place," he said, pointing. "I'm heading back. Buy it yourself." Chen Deyu had no idea what Li Zhi wanted the alkali for, but he figured the Li family was doomed to bankruptcy anyway, destined to become homeless refugees. He saw no point in cultivating a connection with such a person. Having pointed out the shop, he was ready to leave.
Li Zhi didn't try to keep him. He entered the shop alone, finding an old man dozing inside. "I need four jin of jianmian," he announced loudly.
The half-asleep old man started, jolted awake. But though roused from his dreams, he was all business. "What I sell is top-grade alkali powder from the Xiangyang mines. Four jin will be seventy-six wen."
Nineteen wen per jin for soda ash wasn't expensive. If the cost of the alkali was low, making soap wouldn't be costly either. Pleased, Li Zhi smiled. "Shopkeeper, I'm buying a fair amount. Can you give me a better price?"
"The lowest is seventy-two wen."
Li Zhi counted out seventy-two wen and handed them over. The old man rose slowly from his chair, scooped several ladlefuls of a white, powdery substance from a large vat, and weighed it on a scale. The beam tipped high—exactly four jin. He wrapped the soda ash carefully in thick Fujian paper, tied it with string like a package of Chinese medicine, and handed it to Li Zhi.
With the soda ash easily acquired, Li Zhi, his heart full of hope, He walked out of the shop carrying four jin of soda ash.
- Writer
