The rules for the wharf were also finalized. Duan Jin personally wrote a “Notice on the Management of Wuyuan Wharf,” which he posted outside the wharf’s management pavilion. The black-on-white text was clear and unambiguous:

First, all vessels docking at the wharf must berth according to their assigned berth numbers and must not dock or occupy spaces haphazardly. Violators will be fined one tael of silver.

Second, mooring fees are charged based on the length of the vessel: vessels under three zhang are classified as small boats, at ten wen per day and night; those between three and five zhang are medium-sized boats, at thirty wen per day and night; those between five and ten zhang are large boats, at fifty wen per day and night; and those over ten zhang are classified as extra-large boats, at one hundred wen per day and night. Any period less than one day and night is charged as one day and night. 

Third, the wharf warehouse charges five wen per dan per day and night for storing goods. The warehouse provides storage services; in the event of loss, the wharf will compensate at market value.

Fourth, the wharf provides loading and unloading services; porters are paid per item at clearly posted rates. Shipowners may also load and unload their own cargo at no additional charge. Fifth, fighting, theft, and robbery are strictly prohibited within the wharf premises. Violators will be handed over to the authorities for prosecution; no leniency will be shown.

On the day the notice was posted, a large crowd gathered at the wharf.

There were shipowners, merchants, and local residents, all craning their necks to look. Those who could read read the notice aloud to those who could not; once it was finished, the crowd erupted.

“You have to pay to dock? Didn’t we use to dock whenever we wanted?”

“Ten wen a day? They’re just trying to rip us off!”

“Has Magistrate Duan gone mad with greed? The wharf belongs to everyone—why should we pay him?” The shipowners who had been sailing the river for years were the loudest in their protests.

The leader, a burly man in his forties named Liu—known as “Liu Dachuan”—had been sailing the river for twenty years. Relying on his fleet of ships and large crew, he had always acted with impunity.

He ripped down the notice, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it while cursing, “What a lousy dock! I’ve been running around Wuyuan County half my life, and I’ve never heard of having to pay to dock a boat! Who does that Duan Jin think he is?!”

Someone nearby whispered, “Boss Liu, don’t act on impulse. Magistrate Duan isn’t someone to mess with—” 

“Not to be messed with?” Liu Dachuan spat. “A seventh-rank petty official who’s as broke as a church mouse—do you think I’m afraid of him?”

Word quickly reached the county magistrate’s office.

The bailiff in charge of posting notices came running in, fuming, “Your Honor! Liu Dachuan tore down the notice! He cursed you!”

Half a session later, Duan Jin stood on the new concrete pavement at the wharf, facing Liu Dachuan and the ten shipowners and merchants behind him. Liu Dachuan stood with his arms crossed, a defiant look on his face, while a constant murmur rose from the crowd behind him.

Behind Duan Jin stood a row of burly constables, projecting an imposing presence.

He looked around and raised his voice: “All of you who make your living on the water know better than I do what this wharf used to be like. Tell me yourselves: last year, how much cargo did you lose here? How many fights did you get into? How many times were you robbed? And how many business deals were delayed because the wharf was too small and there weren’t enough berths?”

Some in the crowd lowered their heads, while others whispered among themselves. Liu Dachuan snorted, “So what?”

“It’s different now,” Duan Jin said, pointing to the smooth, hard concrete ground beneath his feet, then to the neat rows of berths, the brand-new warehouses, and the clean management booths. “I spent a hundred taels of silver to build this dock. The ground is hard, there are plenty of berths, we have warehouses, and dedicated staff to manage everything. If you dock your ships here and store your cargo here, you won’t have to worry about theft, robbery, or fights over berths. If any trouble arises, I’ll settle it for you.”

“As for why I’m charging you? Well, it’s because I guarantee your cargo won’t be lost, because I’ll help mediate your disputes, and because I’m going to build a road through here next so your cargo can move smoothly!”

Liu Dachuan stared blankly, then retorted defiantly, “You’re talking a good game, but who’s to say you’re not just stringing us along?”

Duan Jin looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Boss Liu, that three-masted cargo ship of yours is five zhang long and can carry no more than two hundred shi of cargo, right?” Liu Dachuan was taken aback. “How do you know that?”

“Last March, you docked at the pier. Because your berth was taken by someone else, you got into a heated argument with them, wasting half a day. You were supposed to catch the shipment that same afternoon.”

“If you’d gone with the current, it would have been delayed until the next day, and you’d have lost ten taels of silver. Isn’t that right?”

Liu Dachuan’s expression darkened.

Duan Jin continued, “If you don’t believe this wharf brings you benefits, you don’t have to pay the mooring fee—you don’t have to dock here. But think about it: in the surrounding counties, is there any wharf that compares to this one? Just look at this surface—you’ve traveled all over the country for so many years; have you ever seen a road like this?”

Liu Dachuan looked down at the smooth, mirror-like gray-blue concrete surface beneath his feet, then thought of the bumpy, potholed docks elsewhere. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

An elderly shipowner stepped forward from the crowd. His surname was Sun; he was known as “Old Captain Sun.” Having spent his entire life at sea, he commanded great respect at the dock.

He crouched down, ran his hand over the concrete surface, tapped it a few times, then stood up and looked at Duan Jin: “Magistrate Duan, is this surface really made of… concrete?”

“…”

“Harder than stone?”

“Harder than ordinary stone.”

Old Captain Sun fell silent for a moment. “Having sailed for forty years—from Panyu in the south to Zhigu in the north—I’d seen every kind of wharf imaginable. I’d dare say this wharf ranks among the top five in all of Jiangnan. And judging by this, Magistrate Duan’s price is at least lower than…”

As soon as those words came out,

Duan Jin pressed his advantage: “Listen, everyone. The rules I’m talking about—I’m not going to steal money from your pockets. A ten-wen daily fee for docking—what’s that to a single ship? You’re always hiring people to watch your cargo. You need your goods to move quickly and your ships to turn over frequently. The money you earn from one extra trip far outweighs this small fee. I don’t believe you can’t figure that out.”

The crowd fell silent for a long time.

Old Captain Sun was the first to reach the administration pavilion, where he placed the money on the table: “Magistrate Duan, I trust you. I’ll pay five days’ mooring fee up front.”

With Old Captain Sun leading the way, the other shipowners followed suit.

Liu Dachuan stood rooted to the spot, his face alternating between red and white. Finally, with a snort, he pushed his way to the front of the management booth, fished a handful of copper coins from his waist pouch, and tossed them onto the table: “I’ll pay for three days first! If things don’t work out, I’ll come after you!”

Duan Jin instructed his attendant to collect the money and recorded each entry in the ledger. He then looked up at Liu Dachuan and bowed slightly: “Thank you. If you’re satisfied after three days, you’re welcome to renew your subscription.”

After the wharf was repaired, changes began to take place day by day.

At first, only the small boats and a few medium-sized vessels that regularly traveled this route were willing to dock. However, after paying the docking fee and storing their cargo in the warehouse, the shipowners were surprised to find that nothing went missing.

In the past, on nights at the wharf, there would always be one or two items missing from the cargo—either stolen or misplaced. Now there are warehouses where the goods are locked away; the shipowners keep the keys themselves, wharf workers take turns standing guard, and night patrols are conducted—it’s incredibly safe.

Gradually, medium-sized ships began to dock there. Later still, a large ship that normally didn’t stop at this port heard about the good reputation of Wuyuan County’s dock and made a special detour to check it out.

As soon as they saw the smooth, hard concrete pavement, the neatly arranged berths, and the clean warehouses, their eyes lit up.

“What’s this surface made of?” A wealthy merchant from Jiangning Prefecture crouched down and tried to scratch the concrete with his finger. When that didn’t work, he took a knife, leaving only a faint white mark. He exclaimed in amazement, “My goodness, this is sturdier than the floor in our prefectural office!”

Duan Jin, who happened to be inspecting the wharf, smiled and explained, “This cement pavement is a new type of building material recently produced in our county. It hardens when exposed to water and becomes harder the more it’s used.”

The merchant stood up and sized up Duan Jin: “Who’s in charge here?” 

“I am Duan Jin, Magistrate of Wuyuan County.”

The merchant was taken aback and hurriedly clasped his hands in a bow: “My apologies, my apologies! I am Manager Wang of the Xiangfeng Trading Company in Jiangning Prefecture, dealing in general merchandise from both the north and south. Magistrate Duan, this cement… would you sell some to me? I’ll take it back to Jiangning and lay it in my warehouse to keep out moisture and rats—it’s perfect!” 

Duan Jin felt a surge of joy, though he gave nothing away. After pausing to consider for a moment, he put on a look of reluctance: “Cement production is currently limited, and we don’t even have enough for our own county’s needs. However, since Manager Wang is interested, we can give you priority once we expand production. It’s just that this product is difficult to manufacture, so the price isn’t exactly low…”

“Money is no problem,” Manager Wang said, patting his chest. “Just name your price, Your Honor!”

Duan Jin thought for a moment and named a figure.

Manager Wang didn’t even haggle; he agreed on the spot to buy one hundred shi and paid twenty taels as a deposit. Liu Cheng stood by, staring in astonishment.

Once this Mr. Wang, the big merchant, had left, Liu Cheng tugged at Duan Jin’s sleeve and whispered, “Sir, you sold him 100 shi for 200 taels? What’s our cost?”

“Twenty taels,” Duan Jin replied honestly.

Good heavens, what a huge profit!

“We can sell it like that?” Liu Cheng’s eyes lit up; it was as if his Ren and Du meridians had suddenly been unblocked.

Duan Jin raised an eyebrow at him and said with a smile, “Right now, we’re the only ones who can produce this. As the saying goes, rarity makes things valuable. Besides, for this big merchant, if he takes this novelty back home, they’ll only sell it for double the price—it might even fetch a thousand taels by then.”

Merchants really do have hearts of stone. Liu Cheng glanced at Manager Wang, who was walking away with a smile on his face, and the faint pang of guilt that had just surfaced immediately vanished.

It’s not expensive—not at all. Exclusive cement—our Magistrate Duan sells it for a bargain!

As word of the wharf’s reputation spread, more and more merchant ships began using Wuyuan Wharf as a stopover. Some ships even went out of their way just to rest on the concrete deck, restock supplies, and unload cargo.

The wharf gradually became bustling, and the number of storage bays in the warehouses expanded from three to five—but even that wasn’t enough.

Duan Jin then had two additional rows of warehouses built next to the existing ones, all with concrete walls and blue-tiled roofs—both sturdy and attractive. As more people stayed in the area, the dyeworks and salted egg producers in Wuyuan County began to find markets outside the county.

This was good news for Duan Jin.

The porters at the wharf became busier. Back when the wharf was deserted, the porters had no work and could only scrape by with odd jobs; earning ten wen a day was considered a good day.

Even when work was available, the unscrupulous shipowners would always drive down the rates; after a day of backbreaking labor, they wouldn’t even make a hundred wen.

Now, loading and unloading services at the wharf had fixed rates: five wen per dan of cargo. A strong laborer could move thirty or forty dan a day, earning over a hundred wen—which was far better than farming.

Duan Jin also organized a porters’ guild, where they line up in an orderly fashion to take on jobs, eliminating the need for scrambling or fighting.

Duan Jin decreed that the dock’s daily garbage must be cleared promptly and must not be dumped into the river; violators would be fined silver.

He had a garbage pit built beside the wharf, and every evening, designated workers would haul the waste away. The days when the wharf was overpowered by a foul stench were gone forever, replaced by a new, clean, tidy, and orderly appearance.

While goods came and went at the wharf, the streets of Wuyuan County were quietly changing.

Originally, the main roads in the county were made of compacted yellow earth; on sunny days, you’d be covered in dust, and on rainy days, you’d be covered in mud.

Especially during the spring thaw and the endless autumn rains, the road surface would become pitted and rutted from being trampled by carts and horses; whenever a horse-drawn cart passed, its wheels would sink in and take a long time to pull free.

The stalls lining both sides of the street were in utter disarray.

Vegetable vendors, butchers, cloth merchants, and general goods sellers set up their stalls haphazardly, squeezing the already narrow roadway down to nothing more than a narrow path. During festivals and market days, people jostled against one another, and stalls bumped into each other, often leading to heated arguments over prime spots.

Duan Jin had long wanted to fix up this street, but he had never been able to find suitable materials.

Repairing the loess road surface was merely a stopgap measure, and paving it with stone slabs was too expensive—the county simply couldn’t afford it.

Now that cement was available, the problem was easily solved.