Chapter 44 — Changshan Distillery
A few days later, Bai Rongjiu led a team to pick up a batch of goods, leaving Zhang Huwei and Xie Jing at the distillery.
Xie Jing was still young and followed his teacher, Zhang Huwei, in everything. He had recently formally apprenticed under Zhang Huwei, becoming his closed-door disciple and learning firearms earnestly.
The Heihe area was vast and sparsely populated; riding a short distance led straight to birch forests. Zhang Huwei divided people into teams of ten, working in three shifts to patrol, and whenever he had free time, he took Xie Jing to practice shooting. His methods were fierce and relentless, skilled with both long and short guns, especially adept at combat on horseback.
Xie Jing learned a lot and spent several fulfilling days, dreaming of battles even in his sleep.
Heihe was not a large town, and Manager Sun had invited many people to his factory for visits. Using the foreign term he had learned, he called this a “tour.”
As more people came to tour, news quickly spread that Japanese merchants could purchase machines. Rumor had it that these Japanese merchants visited several factories in succession, causing unease among many business owners.
The Bai family had only prospered after purchasing their machines, and the daily rumbling of the machinery drew admiration from everyone who heard it.
Bai Mingzhe was also invited to visit Changshan Distillery. After returning, he wore a deep frown.
The Fang family had friends who came to gather information, and Bai Mingzhe spoke plainly for the first time: “If you ask me, don’t buy this batch of machines yet. Our equipment has been in use for months, and the provincial authorities even sent people to adjust it. Even now, we can’t say we’re fully skilled with it. That Japanese merchant’s machines seem too easy to operate—I just don’t feel comfortable.”
Though the listener envied Bai Mingzhe, his caution increased, and he did not place an order.
Some others scoffed at Bai Mingzhe’s warning. “He’s just afraid we’ll block his path. Don’t mind him. Didn’t the Japanese say? Even if they can’t send technicians, our workers can still learn a bit. The price is fair. In my opinion, the Bai family is cunning, deliberately spreading these words.”
Two companies ordered the Japanese machines that same day, but during installation, a mishap almost crushed a worker’s hand.
This incident made others wary. Some recalled Bai Mingzhe’s earlier warning and suspected something off with the Japanese machines.
Soon, Japanese representatives sent a few people to help assemble the machines, clearly stating that they had taken a stake in Changshan Distillery. With Manager Sun vouching for them, combined with careful service—including apologies and full responsibility for maintenance—those two companies gradually let go of their initial resentment and accepted the machines.
Machines costing seventy to eighty thousand silver could double production in two to three years. Though risky, the profit potential was huge.
They had also heard that the Bai family had invested nearly a million silver in their distillery!
Bai Mingzhe had operated in Heihe for years, selling not just liquor but other goods from the north and south, and he knew many people. He requested another invitation to Sun’s distillery, planning to go observe. This time, he brought Xie Jing and the German engineer from the factory.
Xie Jing did not understand business, but could manage a few words in German, so Bai Mingzhe had him act as translator.
Xie Jing said, “I only know a few phrases. I’m afraid I won’t translate properly.”
Bai Mingzhe replied, “It doesn’t matter. We’re not translating for outsiders; I just want our people to see it. Be sharp and take the chance to observe more.”
Xie Jing agreed.
After arrangements, the group set off for Changshan Distillery.
At the entrance, Xie Jing saw the sign but had no memory of this brand. A few years ago, when he had been training in the opera troupe, he had no time to drink. Later, after becoming famous, he had attended many banquets. Even during his years with Lord Bai Jiu, he had seen plenty of liquor, so there was no reason he would have never heard of the “Changshan” brand in a previous life.
Just then, a wealthy, middle-aged man walked over with an assistant, wearing a silk robe and long jacket. Raising his hand in greeting, he said, “Manager Bai, long time no see. How have you been?”
Xie Jing narrowed his eyes as he looked at him.
Sun Dajiang—how was this person here?
If this really was Sun Dajiang, years later he would go to Manzhouli, ally with the Japanese, and cause many troubles, later stealing money to head south and join one of Lord Bai Jiu’s enemies. Xie Jing remembered him because he was difficult to deal with: seemingly honest on the surface, greedy at heart, notorious for recognizing only money, selling his wives, daughters, and ancestors, committing countless treacherous acts, and dying unrepentant.
Bai Mingzhe and Sun Dajiang exchanged pleasantries and went inside together. Changshan Distillery had become something like a display model, attracting daily visitors, though not many machines had been sold. Prices were high, and Sun Dajiang and the Japanese merchant imposed additional conditions not every business could meet.
Bai Mingzhe brought the German engineer along, but Sun Dajiang only glanced at him and smiled without comment.
Recently, Bai Mingzhe had advised many merchants, but none listened—or rather, the more he advised, the more suspicious they became.
Sun Dajiang knew this and did not stop them from inspecting the machines.
The German engineer toured the workshop and then muttered a few long sentences to Xie Jing, gesturing wildly, nodding and shaking his head intermittently.
Bai Mingzhe cleared his throat. “Little Xie, what did Mr. John say?”
Sun Dajiang glanced sideways, trying to eavesdrop.
The German engineer continued rapidly in long, complicated sentences.
Xie Jing closed his eyes and improvised: “He said he hasn’t fully understood and wants to take another look.”
Sun Dajiang: “…”
Sun Dajiang: “He didn’t say just that, right?”
Xie Jing: “Yes, mostly technical terms. I memorized a sentence he just said; even the pronunciation is the same. I’m afraid that if I translate, you won’t understand.”
Sun Dajiang believed a bit because Xie Jing was speaking a foreign language, but he still suspected this earnest-looking teenager was cursing him. He couldn’t get angry because Xie Jing’s expression was sincere.
The German engineer, hearing Xie Jing, became excited and continued in German, seeking allies: “Isn’t that right? Little Xie, you think so too, right? Their machines are only samples, impossible to produce with. Is this a workshop or a display area? If it’s only a display, can they take us to the real machines?”
Xie Jing repeated, “I want to see the real machines.”
Mr. John: “??”
Xie Jing nodded at the German engineer, then turned to translate to the others: “Mr. John ate some cold food this morning and has a stomach ache. He wants to ask Manager Sun for a favor. He’ll be right back.”
Sun Dajiang didn’t suspect anything and allowed them to be taken inside.
Xie Jing told Mr. John the most fluent word he could: “Let’s go,” and the German happily followed, thinking they were going to see the machines.
Half a day passed before they returned.
Sun Dajiang called twice for them but eventually sent two assistants to find them. The German engineer was angry, gesturing as if to leave.
Sun Dajiang asked, “What happened?”
The assistants whispered a few things in his ear, glanced at Xie Jing and the German, then looked down quickly.
Sun Dajiang snorted and glared at Xie Jing and Bai Mingzhe. “Manager Bai, isn’t this inconvenient? Why did you have your subordinate take a foreigner wandering around my factory?”
Bai Mingzhe sipped tea, surprised. “Little Xie, what’s going on?”
Xie Jing: “Mr. John wanted to leave. I couldn’t stop him.”
The German engineer shouted angrily upon hearing his name.
Sun Dajiang frowned. “Why is he angry again?”
Xie Jing: “Foreign customs are different. I don’t understand. Maybe the Feng Shui here offended him.”
Sun Dajiang: “You!”
Bai Mingzhe spoke first: “Little Xie, what are you saying? Go apologize to Manager Sun.” He stood up, making apologies himself, before giving Xie Jing a chance: “Brother Sun, I know this caused trouble, but this foreigner came from the provincial authorities. I can’t control him. Sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll take our leave. No need to see us off.”
After leaving Changshan Distillery, Bai Mingzhe quietly asked, “Little Xie, what did you find out?”
Xie Jing: “Mr. John said the machines are samples and cannot produce anything.”
Bai Mingzhe frowned: “That can’t be—I saw a lot of liquor being produced…”
Xie Jing: “I wasn’t sure either, so I used the excuse of taking Mr. John outside to tour. I don’t understand much else, but the grain for brewing must be stored in the warehouse. Changshan Distillery is small, and I quickly found their grain warehouse—it was empty.” He paused. “Sun’s liquor wasn’t made with these machines. It was probably transported in from elsewhere.”
Bai Mingzhe’s expression turned grave, frowning deeply.
After returning, he consulted several familiar merchants and confirmed that the Japanese machines were overpriced and they covertly demanded exclusive formulas from other distilleries.
Bai Mingzhe wrote a letter that night detailing the findings and sent it urgently to Lord Bai Jiu.
Meanwhile, rumors began circulating in Heihe.
It was said that the Bai family’s previous business in the provincial government had used foreign money, collaborating with foreigners to move large sums of silver domestically. Now, having profited, they were using foreign machines to earn more in the north. Others claimed that much of the million silver Master Bai brought from the provincial government was foreign money, implying he was profiting for foreigners.
Since the Gengzi year [1], Chinese people feared and hated foreigners. Partnering with foreigners to make money off the Chinese angered many, and soon bricks were thrown at Heihe Distillery—fortunately, no one was hurt.
The distillery increased security, with staff on duty day and night.
One day, someone came to visit, insisting on seeing Fang Yurou.
When the messenger reported this, Bai Mingzhe frowned. Normally, he would have sent someone away, but this person was different—Fang Ji’an, a cousin known for being bold. Every visit involved asking for favors. This time, he likely lacked money and hoped to get some.
The assistant asked, “Manager Bai just left this morning. He’s probably already in Qinghe County. Shall I notify him?”
Bai Mingzhe shook his head. “No, I’ll go see.”
Fang Ji’an sat in the reception room, holding a cup of tea, wearing a half-worn robe again, yawning, looking listless.
Footnotes:
[1] A “gengzi year” is a specific year in the traditional Chinese sexagenary (60-year) cycle,, and is associated with disaster and crisis due to its historical context. The gengzi year they are referring to is 1900, The Boxer Rebellion, a religious and social rebellion that was intended to remove all foreigners and their influence from China.
