Chapter 13: Troublemaker

"This is outrageous!"

Zhou Shixiang's solemn expression left Cheng Bangjun, who had entered official service in the third year of Yongli, thoroughly choked. Furious beyond anger, he laughed instead: "A xiucai who has never held office dares to demand proof of this official's identity?

How amusing. This official asks you: what office do you hold in our dynasty, and what gives you the right to verify this official's identity?"

Having said that, he turned his head angrily toward Boss Hu: "Hu Quan, this official has come on behalf of the court. If you refuse to accept the commission, so be it — but why must you humiliate this official so? Do you imagine the court truly cannot deal with you?"

Before Boss Hu could open his mouth, Zhou Shixiang could no longer hold back and said: "Your Excellency speaks of 'the court' at every turn. This humble one is untalented, but may I ask Your Excellency: where is this court now?

And to which court does this place belong? If we truly showed Your Excellency disrespect, what does this court of yours intend to do about us?"

Inwardly, Zhou Shixiang felt deep antipathy toward this young Southern Ming vice director of the Bureau of War.

He had merely wanted to confirm whether the man was genuine, yet this fellow surnamed Cheng put on official airs, escalated matters, and invoked the Yongli court to intimidate them.

Such conduct was too childish — no doubt because the man had entered Yongli service too young and had too little experience. Any other seasoned person would have produced his credentials without a second word.

That would have been the way to win people over, or at least to show the Yongli court's sincerity, leaving no room for doubt or grounds for criticism.

Boss Hu had meant to offer some explanation, but after hearing Zhou Shixiang's words, he decided to say nothing. The men in the room had long been dissatisfied with Cheng Bangjun and the Southern Ming court he represented, so naturally no one spoke up for him.

One by one they grinned, watching Cheng Bangjun make a fool of himself.

The four guards Cheng Bangjun had brought were somewhat embarrassed.

They knew perfectly well that the Daqiao Mountain region was not Ming territory, that the court was utterly powerless against these bandits, and that the whole plan, top to bottom, was to use these bandits to temporarily relieve pressure from the Qing army — to make them cannon fodder.

How could the court possibly come and punish them for disrespect? And this Master Cheng — these men had already taken to the hills and become bandits; what court did they have in their eyes anymore?

Just coax them with kind words and send them off to die; why act on impulse? At worst, if this place didn't work, they could try the next.

The bold fellows and bandits of the western Guangdong mountains weren't limited to Daqiao Mountain alone; why waste time here? They should remember that what they had brought this time was no empty document printed on silk, but a genuine official commission and a real seal.

The moment someone accepted it, he would become a proper military officer of the Great Ming. There would always be men unable to resist the lure of office, willing to serve the court.

By now Cheng Bangjun was secretly regretting those words. As for "punishment," it had been nothing but empty bluster — how could it ever be made real?

Now that it had been called out to his face, he had no reply, and his face burned hot. His opinion of Zhou Shixiang plummeted to rock bottom; the man was an eyesore no matter how he looked at him, and a word surfaced unbidden in his mind — troublemaker.

"Verify it! Why shouldn't they show it? And why shouldn't we be allowed to verify it?"

Song Xianggong, who had said nothing on the matter all along, suddenly stepped into the center, openly siding with Zhou Shixiang. Raising his voice, he said to Cheng Bangjun: "If we don't verify it, how is anyone to know whether what you've brought is real or fake?"

Hearing this, Peng Dazhu quickly shouted too: "Right, we must verify it! Who knows whether your Yongli court has cooked up another pile of fakes to fool us! And then when you don't need us anymore, you'll deny everything!"

Zhao Sihai, afraid the scene wasn't lively enough, glared at Cheng Bangjun and his men and chuckled: "You lot came running to our stronghold at the crack of dawn saying you represent the Yongli court and want to take us in.

But from start to finish, all we've heard is you talking, Master Cheng. Our brothers can't tell real from fake.

If it's real, fine — but if it's fake, how do we know you aren't Tartars sent to trick us down off the mountain?"

"I don't know about the rest, but this fellow's official robe was only just put on in front of our stockade gate. He looks all proper and grand now, but the brothers didn't see how they were dressed before — their getup wasn't even as good as ours!" Ge Liu yelled, grinning wickedly.

If that subject hadn't come up, it would have been fine, but once it did, Cheng Bangjun's face turned even redder.

Ever since Li Dingguo's great army had withdrawn into Guangxi, everything except Gaozhou and some coastal territory still in Ming hands had been occupied by the Qing army.

So to conceal their identities and avoid exposure, Cheng Bangjun and his party had worn commoners' clothes all these days, only changing into their official robes once they had found the men they sought, to display the Yongli court's dignity.

But these righteous bands and bandits were all holed up in the mountains, and getting from one place to another meant crossing ridges and valleys.

After so many days, the clothes on their backs had long since been torn to rags, and they dared not wear Ming official robes openly, so they were a sorry sight — like beggars.

Had it not been so hard to return and report empty-handed, and had he not been too ashamed to go back with nothing, Cheng Bangjun would have fled long ago; he could not bear such treatment. His scholarly dignity was in the dust, his official authority gone — the very thought of it mortified him.

But blush as he might, Cheng Bangjun absolutely could not accept being toyed with by a pack of bandits. In his view, what Zhou Shixiang demanded was an insult to him.

His official robes already proved his identity — why go through the extra trouble of verifying anything else? Could the court-cast seal and the commission certificate be fake?

One side insisted on verifying, the other refused to show. Just as the two sides were deadlocked, Boss Hu spoke up, his voice low: "Master Cheng, since the brothers want to verify it, let them verify it. Being thorough is never a bad thing."

"Hmph!"

Cheng Bangjun gave a cold snort and was about to refuse, but as the words reached his lips, a thought stirred, and he asked Boss Hu instead: "If it proves genuine, will you, Hu Quan, be willing to serve the court?"

"That..."

Boss Hu hesitated again. He only wanted to see whether what Cheng Bangjun had brought was real; he had no intention of selling his life for it.

Seeing Hu Quan act the same as before, Cheng Bangjun was even more unwilling to let them verify. Thoroughly impatient with staying any longer, he lifted a foot to leave — but then heard Zhou Shixiang say: "Master Cheng, would you allow us to discuss this before deciding?"

"Hmm?" Cheng Bangjun stared at Zhou Shixiang, noncommittal, wondering what trick he was up to.

Song Xianggong added: "That would be best. This matter is of great importance; we must deliberate carefully before deciding. Someone, escort Master Cheng and his brothers to the next room to rest for a while." With that, he shot Boss Hu a look, and Boss Hu, seeing it, kept silent.

"Very well. This official is in no such hurry to leave."

Matters having come to this, Cheng Bangjun agreed, holding out hope for a turn of events. At once, someone led the group to the neighboring room.

After they had gone, Boss Hu looked at Zhou Shixiang in puzzlement and asked: "Brother Zhou, why did you send them away?"

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