Water Taxi: Personal Boats
Dang Hui-yeom asked, caught off guard by the unexpected answer.
"Releasing the requisitioned civilian merchant ships and returning things to the way they were is impossible? What do you mean by that? We only need to clear the urgent traffic jam and then call them back. Is there some problem I'm missing?"
"Requisitioning civilian vessels—and then releasing them—requires far more time and administrative effort than one might think," the Provincial Administration Commissioner of Hubei said.
"The civilian merchant ships currently requisitioned for the Angang construction project were gathered from twenty-two counties and cities along the Yangtze. First we send official cooperation notices to the counties and provinces where the private owners or businesses reside. Then we meet with them, discuss the concrete terms of cooperation, and they return to their own counties and provinces to summon the relevant companies and deliver the government's decision. Only after that do those private outfits sail their ships here, where we organize the gathered vessels and companies into the official construction system. That process alone took several months.
"Sending them home will take about as long. And when we need to call them back later, the same procedures will be required. Of course, having done it once means it won't take quite as long as the first time—but by then the companies will have learned every excuse and delay tactic imaginable and will be even less cooperative. When you've finally managed to assemble a force this difficult to gather, it's better to finish the job in one go."
Deep worry was written plainly across the commissioner's face.
Only then did Hui-yeom realize what he had overlooked.
Damn sixteenth-century administrative capacity and communications!
Even now his twenty-first-century instincts occasionally clashed with the realities of this era, throwing off his calculations. This was exactly such a case. Without realizing it, he had been thinking in terms of modern South Korea—blasting out official notices, emailing the companies, sending the ships home, then gathering them again later with the same procedures, all of which would take a few days at most.
If he followed the commissioner's warning and forced the release now, they would simply burn several more months.
"I hadn't considered that part," Hui-yeom admitted freely, stepping back.
"Scholar Dang, I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better answer after you came all this way."
"Not at all. I'm the one who should apologize for barging in without fully understanding the situation. And since so many commoners are suffering because of this, I'll look for a solution of my own."
He wrapped up the conversation politely and rose from his seat.
"Travel safely, Scholar Dang. And if there's anything I can do to help, contact me anytime. I'll assist you as far as my authority reaches."
"Thank you, Your Excellency."
Perhaps it was the open knowledge of the emperor's favor, or the fact that Hui-yeom now held an official post—even if it was half honorary. The Hubei commissioner was remarkably cooperative, even seeing him out to the gate.
After leaving the provincial office, Hui-yeom set out for Huangmei County. Still without a clear solution, worry showed plainly on his face.
Sama Yun, watching him, asked, "Husband, do you have a good idea?"
"I need to think a little more."
If this were the modern world, it would be like every bus and train line suddenly shutting down for some reason. Of course the citizens would pile up grievances.
How would one solve a situation like this?
In modern times the city would commandeer vehicles for temporary shuttle service, or work with taxi companies to flood the area with extra cabs and ease the pressure somewhat…
But this was the Central Plains, not the modern world. Even simple tasks required complex procedures and enormous amounts of time. And Hui-yeom was neither a Regional Military Commissioner nor a Provincial Administration Commissioner; he could not simply issue orders or move officials and civilians at will.
No—wait. There is something I can move.
"I've got a good idea."
"What is it?"
"I need to see Hero Ha."
One name rose in Hui-yeom's mind.
Ha Tae-ryong, the King of the Yangtze…
Hui-yeom remained in Huangmei County for the time being and used Angang's communication network to summon Ha Tae-ryong, the King of the Yangtze.
Ha Tae-ryong arrived swiftly on his personal vessel. After hearing the rough outline of the situation, he frowned as though nursing a headache.
"The government's position is understandable, but if we leave things as they are, the people's resentment will turn against our Angang."
Even for a former pirate chief, having the common folk turn hostile was far from desirable. After all, the company that was supposed to be his new identity and livelihood for a clean start was about to be covered in filth. There was no way he could feel good about that.
Hui-yeom spoke. "That's why I'm asking—doesn't Angang have a lot of small boats sitting unused right now?"
"Small boats, you say?"
"The little personal craft you used to run as commercial vessels."
"Ah, those. They're not much use for the construction work, so they're stored in the water villages."
"Let's use them like post-station coaches."
"Pardon?"
What Hui-yeom had in mind was Hong Kong's water-taxi system. With civilian and merchant demand for travel along the Yangtze completely choked off, throwing large merchant ships into the mix was still impossible—but flooding the river with large numbers of small craft would at least let people move.
"Every Angang employee is a skilled boatman. If they start ferrying people, the passenger bottleneck will ease considerably."
"Will that be enough?"
"It does almost nothing for cargo transport. Still, at least those who urgently need to travel by person will get some breathing room."
"Hmm."
Ha Tae-ryong thought for a moment, then said, "Well… in the water villages we also have merchant ships we captured in the old days, plus a few larger vessels. What if we used those to move cargo as well?"
"You have ships like that and they weren't put into the construction project?"
"Well… since we, ah, quietly acquired them…"
A thief's conscience is a sensitive thing. Ha Tae-ryong explained that hauling stolen ships into a government construction project had felt a little too uncomfortable. Hui-yeom nodded.
"Fine. But is there any chance the original owners will show up protesting, 'That's my ship!'?"
"Ah, no chance of that. The owners, captains, and crews of those captured ships have almost all gone to the Dragon King's palace, you see."
"…"
"…Ahem! That was before I washed my hands of the business. Don't look at me like that."
Hui-yeom fixed him with a pointed stare, then finally gave a wry smile and nodded.
"Well, it's turned into a blessing in disguise now, so I can hardly complain."
"So we proceed that way?"
"Yes. Move as fast as you can. The sooner you start, the more profitable this little venture might become."
"Profitable?"
Ha Tae-ryong had been thinking of it as simple charity for the people's hardship. The word "profitable" made his ears perk up.
"There are people in this world for whom time is more precious than money. Right now even those people are stranded, watching their time drain away because they can't cross the river. Open a water route for them, and they won't begrudge a fortune."
Of course they wouldn't actually charge a fortune. Still—wasn't it common for taxis after the last bus had gone to charge double or triple?
And so Hui-yeom's order, through Ha Tae-ryong, spread to every former pirate along the Yangtze—now the honest employees of Angang.
Soon the piers of the great river began to grow noisy.
Merchant Son of Wuchang had been stranded in Huangmei County for a full fortnight already.
He needed to reach Shanghai for a critical deal, and then this had to happen. It felt as though heaven itself had decided to torment him personally. He cursed the officials who had suddenly requisitioned every ship for some construction project and choked the waterways.
At first he simply waited, thinking a few days would do. After all, regular scheduled sailings still didn't exist in this era; a few double-hours or even a few days of delay were simply normal. He should have hired a carriage and taken the overland route right then.
A week later, when he finally realized something was seriously wrong and scrambled for a carriage, it was already impossible. Compared to the river route, carriage travel took twice as long and was far more dangerous—and therefore far more expensive. Because of that, people of the Central Plains almost never used carriages when the Yangtze was available. Supply followed demand; with almost no demand, there were almost no carriages. When a sudden flood of desperate travelers tried to hire them all at once, none were left.
So Merchant Son's daily routine became walking out to the riverside pier, staring helplessly at the endless flow of the river, then trudging home again with a burning gut.
Today was different.
Even though he knew it was useless, he went to the pier—and found a crowd already gathered, voices raised in noisy excitement.
"All the way to Tongling County in Anhui! Two cash in silver!"
"To Jinxian County for three cash! Fastest personal boat around~!"
"You? Fast? Ha! Look here! The fastest personal boat on the whole Yangtze! Check these arms! Like the wind all the way to Suzhou! Only one tael!"
Everywhere, men in little skiffs flexed thick forearms and hawked for passengers, while the passengers themselves snarled and shoved to claim a boat.
Merchant Son watched for a moment, then approached an old man sitting in a small teahouse near the pier, puffing on a long pipe.
"Elder, may I ask what's going on here?"
"Hmm? Ah, right—it's only been like this since this morning, so if you just arrived you might not know. Those fellows are personal-boat operators from a company called Angang Personal Boats."
"Personal boats?"
"Pay them and they'll take you wherever you need to go."
"They'll take you to your destination? Like ferrymen?"
"Ferrymen just cross from one bank to the other. These men run up and down the river for long distances. Different thing entirely."
"Then why is everyone fighting so hard?"
"They're trying to grab the fastest boat for the lowest price, of course."
"The fastest boat? Aren't all boats about the same speed?"
"Big merchant ships, yes. Those depend on current and wind; human strength barely matters. But those little craft? Their speed changes completely depending on the oarsmen's muscle and how well they read the water. That's why the chaos."
"Ah."
Only then did Merchant Son understand why the personal-boat men kept flexing their arms while bargaining.
"But they look awfully strong. What if they suddenly turn pirate once we're out on the water?"
"Not just anyone can run a personal boat. Only people licensed and vetted by Angang are allowed. You know Angang was established under official sponsorship, don't you? The people cursed the government so thoroughly that the officials finally had to do something."
"Ah!"
"So you needn't worry about pirates. Would they dare use the government's name without proper checks? If you're still uneasy, some travelers pool together with others headed the same way—see those little groups forming over there? Or you can hire a martial artist as escort."
Looking where the old man pointed, Merchant Son indeed saw clusters of merchants talking among themselves, and others boarding skiffs beside sword-bearing martial artists.
"Thank you, Elder!"
Merchant Son bowed and hurried toward the pier to secure a boat.
The old man watched his retreating back, drew another lungful of smoke, and muttered to himself.
"…Of course, even then the hired martial artist might be a villain, and a group of merchants might still be overpowered by the boatman. But for people whose every hour is burning, this is still an excellent service."
Judging by the visible results alone, it was a stopgap measure—yet the immediate fire had been put out.
The old man—no, the Academician of the Privy Council—chuckled dryly.
"And since the pirates themselves have turned into the boatmen, there's no danger of another pirate disaster. Well now. Even a bent nail has its uses. This Dang Hui-yeom fellow keeps recycling the nation's criminals into business assets. Is he a dangerous man with moral problems?"
He puffed once more, then rose and dusted himself off.
"Still, it's not my assignment. Someone else will be watching carefully—watching the true heart of that young dragon."
The young dragon—Hui-yeom—wore a satisfied smile.
He had received a report that the personal boats were thriving at the piers and had come to see for himself. What met his eyes was:
"Double!!"
"I'll pay triple!"
"You bastard! Money isn't everything! I've been waiting two whole double-hours already!!"
Just as expected. Everywhere along the pier, passengers shouting "double" or seizing each other by the collars turned the place into a battlefield. After all, the waterways had been blocked not for a day or two but for a full fortnight; more than a few people had fires on their feet.
And then—
"Aiyu, the other side is offering triple. Sorry about that. Of course, if you go a little higher than triple… we might still talk…"
—the boatmen themselves, instead of breaking up the fights, quietly fanned them and jacked the fares even higher. The spectacle was something else.
Hui-yeom felt a headache coming on and closed his eyes.
I roughly expected this, but this might be a bit much…
It could simply be the natural working of market forces. Still, the way things were going, the story could turn ugly.
No, fuck—how many times the normal fare are they gouging?! If people start saying Angang and the government are colluding to skin us alive, we're finished.
What had begun as a convenience for the people might turn into a source of curses. Hui-yeom's expression slowly hardened.
"Those… those little…"
Even Ha Tae-ryong, who considered four times the fare pure highway robbery, was fidgeting in agitation.
"I'll go down there and give those bastards a sharp word. Special circumstances or not, men riding the government's coattails charging street-thug markups—!"
Just then—
Pwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!
One personal boat that had just finished negotiations and taken a merchant aboard shot across the river, kicking up a great spray of white water.
"…Ah?"
"…Huh?"
"Did I just see what I think I saw…?"
The merchants on the pier rubbed their eyes, half-convinced they had imagined it. One of them turned to the boatman he had been bargaining with.
"Say, did I just see that correctly?"
"See what?"
"That… the boat and the man just vanished in a spray of water."
The boatman glanced at the distant speck already far downriver and answered with casual indifference.
"It's not like we're hauling heavy cargo—just one passenger. Easy enough. For the record, I can go even faster than that."
"…What? What?!"
The merchant who moments earlier had been agonizing over triple fare now spoke carefully.
"Shall we make it… five times?"
"Haha! Excellent! Five times it is! I'll have you at your destination within half a day!"
With that exchange the fares at the pier spiked another full notch in an instant.
Farther back, Hui-yeom and Ha Tae-ryong, who had been watching the pier carefully, both lost their words for a moment.
"I… I've never actually watched our boys handle ferry skiffs, so I had no idea they were that fast… No—wait! Five times is still too much! I'll go right down and tell them to moderate—"
"No. Wait a moment."
Looking down on the scene, a faint smile curved Hui-yeom's lips.
"…Rather, this is good."
"Pardon?"
"The angle? KaXo Blue…"
Ha Tae-ryong tilted his head at the incomprehensible mutter. Still, seeing Hui-yeom smile made him feel that everything would probably be all right.