Chapter 277: 275: The Three Loyalists of Lingnan

After the reward money was handed out, the crowd dispersed.

Zhao Han smiled and beckoned. "Come here."

Pan Qimei had crammed Mandarin for a month; her vocabulary was under a hundred words. Imitating the Han women, she bent her body in a curtsy and said, "Ten thousand blessings upon my lord husband!"

Her accent was a bit odd, but rather charming.

"Don't just stand there — come inside and talk," Zhao Han said with a laugh.

Pan Qimei didn't quite understand, but she followed him in anyway, stepping over the threshold with easy confidence.

Zhao Han casually picked up the teapot. Just as he was about to pour, Pan Qimei hurried over, grasped the handle, and said, "I... I..."

"Pour tea?" Zhao Han asked.

Pan Qimei nodded repeatedly. "I pour... tea."

Zhao Han sat down and asked, "How old are you this year?"

Holding the teapot, Pan Qimei looked bewildered. This Han phrase — the teacher might have taught it, or might not have.

The Eight Rows Yao at this time were deeply Sinicized; the closer to the county seat, the more Yao people could speak Han language. Unfortunately, Pan Qimei was a genuine mountain girl who had never once left her village since childhood.

Zhao Han felt a headache coming on. He immediately summoned a guard and tried to find someone in the bridal escort who could speak Han language.

One was quickly found, but he only spoke Cantonese, so a Cantonese interpreter had to be added on top.

For Zhao Han to communicate with the concubine he had just taken, two interpreters were needed...

"What is your name?" Zhao Han asked.

The Cantonese interpreter relayed it at once, and the Yao interpreter relayed it again.

Pan Qimei answered, "My surname is Pan, and I'm called Pan Qimei."

"Only a surname, no given name?" Zhao Han asked.

This time Pan Qimei didn't need to answer; the Yao interpreter explained directly, "Garrison Commander, it's not only women — many Yao men also have only a surname, using their birth order in the family as their name."

Zhao Han summoned Hu Mengtai and instructed, "Note this down. In the future, when teachers are sent to Yao villages — and not only Yao villages, but also Zhuang villages and Miao villages — the teaching masters must give Han names to the local people. Otherwise, the household registers will certainly be full of duplicate names, which will be extremely detrimental to the government's registry management."

As a secretary, Hu Mengtai immediately took out his little notebook and wrote it down.

Zhao Han said, "From now on, you shall be called Pan Yao — Yao as in the Yao people."

"Pan Yao, Pan Yao," Pan Qimei repeated in Han language, then said with a smile, "Good, Pan Yao — that name sounds very nice."

When the young girl smiled, dimples appeared, making her look even more adorable.

Zhao Han asked again, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Pan Qimei answered.

Zhao Han asked the Yao interpreter directly, "Do you reckon age by nominal years or actual years over there?"

The Yao interpreter said, "Nominal years."

All right then — a girl of only fifteen, yet so fully developed.

Does she eat papaya every day? Her chest is so large.

And her waist isn't thick either — no idea how she grew that way.

"How many people in your family?"

"Eight. My older sisters have all married out."

"..."

After this round of casual chat, Pan Qimei completely relaxed and felt that this Heavenly King Zhao was very easy to get along with.

At the evening meal, everyone else withdrew, leaving only Zhao Han and Pan Qimei.

Whether it was something the etiquette teacher had taught her carelessly, or a traditional custom of the Eight Rows Yao, Pan Qimei stood before the dining table, not daring to sit down.

Unable to communicate with each other, she could only stand there foolishly.

Zhao Han smiled and took her hand. "Sit down and eat."

"All right." After sitting down, Pan Qimei broke into a happy smile.

Zhao Han, however, did not let go of her hand. He pried open her fingers and saw many calluses on her palm. Turning over the back of her hand, he found some scars too — very faint marks left after healing, probably from being scratched by rice leaves while harvesting grain.

It seemed she often did farm work, though her face was very fair and clear — perhaps she wore a straw hat or something, so her face hadn't been much exposed to the sun.

Zhao Han lifted her sleeve. The skin color on her wrist was about the same as the back of her hand, both much darker than her face.

"Those Yao elders of yours put some thought into this," Zhao Han couldn't help saying, amused.

Pan Qimei didn't understand; she just laughed along with Zhao Han.

"Eat."

Zhao Han, afraid she might not know how to use chopsticks, was just about to demonstrate when Pan Qimei already picked up her chopsticks, ready to take some food.

Seeing that Zhao Han had not yet moved his chopsticks, Pan Qimei put hers back down — this etiquette was most likely taught by the teacher. The Eight Rows Yao had specially hired a teacher to instruct her in both manners and the Han language.

Zhao Han smiled and picked up a peanut for her.

Peanuts and broad beans had been introduced to China over a hundred years earlier and were by now very widely cultivated.

The "Gongbao chicken" that Zhao Han had invented had not only swiftly swept through Jiangxi but was also quite popular in the various prefectures of Jiangnan. In Jiangxi they called it "Garrison Commander's Chicken," and in Jiangnan they called it "Scholar's Chicken" — in any case, people everywhere liked it, regardless of region.

The two of them ate: three dishes and a soup.

One meat and two vegetable dishes — nothing extravagant.

Pan Qimei ate one peanut and found the flavor a bit strange, but very delicious. She then picked up a piece of the chicken, and her eyes instantly went wide. She finished off most of the plate, and also ate an entire full bowl of dry rice.

Not one of those small bowls you can hold in one hand.

So, her attributes are baby-faced, big-chested foodie loli?

Zhao Han thought he should probably remind her later — if she wasn't doing physical labor every day, eating this much would make it easy to put on weight.

After finishing her meal, Pan Qimei just sat there, savoring the aftertaste of the food while waiting for Zhao Han to speak. Even though she couldn't understand, having someone talk made things feel less awkward.

Zhao Han called in the maidservant traveling with them to take Pan Qimei for a bath, while he himself sat and unhurriedly dealt with official documents.

This Yao girl doesn't know anything yet. Once we're back in Jiangxi, she'll have to learn to speak Han Chinese first, then be sent to the girls' school to study with my little sister.

Sitting down at his desk, he casually opened an official dispatch — it turned out that Baoqing and Yongzhou prefectures had suffered drought for three consecutive years. Since the civil officials had not yet arrived, the frontline military officers were explaining the situation and requesting that grain be dispatched for relief as quickly as possible, otherwise people would certainly starve to death this winter.

Ah, damn it all, another request to move grain for disaster relief. Where is Jiangxi supposed to have enough grain?

Zhao Han quickly issued his instructions: execute a batch of the most heinously criminal landlords, then coerce the other landlords into lending grain. That should raise a fair amount. If it still wasn't enough, they'd just confiscate a few more households — in any case, Zhao Han had no surplus grain left in his hands.

After next year's summer harvest, they absolutely had to seize the Dongting Lake plain. That was the true granary of the realm!

Having finished his reply on that matter, Zhao Han picked up another document — this one was an essay written by a private scholar among the people, titled "Essentials of Land Administration in Guangdong."

It discussed in detail the complexity of Guangdong's landlords, expressed the hope that Zhao Han could reasonably fine-tune his policies, and pointed out certain errors and oversights in the peasant association's land distribution in Shunde County.

"Someone, summon Zhang Jiayu!"

Zhang Jiayu was twenty-two years old this year. He had been a juren for a mere six days when Guangzhou city was seized by the merchants and presented to Zhao Han.

This gentleman had originally been unwilling to join the rebels, but then, inexplicably, his family was allotted land. Not had their land taken — they were allotted land, because he came from an impoverished yeoman-farmer family.

Well, well, well... this was rather embarrassing. Zhang Jiayu immediately offered his services of his own accord, and even brought along a band of jianghu wandering swordsmen.

He was a restless one too — studying for the juren examinations on one hand, and mingling in the jianghu on the other.

Historically, this man was one of the Three Loyalists of Lingnan.

But his loyalty was rather interesting. When Li Zicheng reached Beijing, before Chongzhen was even dead, Zhang Jiayu had already written a letter offering his allegiance.

After Li Zicheng was defeated and fled, Zhang Jiayu adamantly refused to surrender to the Manchu Qing, and went to Nanjing to serve the Hongguang Emperor. Because he had once switched sides, he was thrown into prison by the Southern Ming court.

When the Qing army attacked Nanjing, Zhang Jiayu still refused to surrender, and went to Fuzhou to serve the Longwu Emperor.

Relying on his fame in the jianghu, he rallied gallant warriors to resist the Manchu Qing, and was wounded several times. The last time, struck by nine arrows, he refused to surrender, leaped into a pond and drowned himself. He was only thirty-one years old, and was posthumously honored with the name "Wenlie."

Dong dong dong!

"Enter!"

Zhang Jiayu pushed the door open and entered, dressed in a Confucian scholar's robe, with an iron sword hanging at his waist.

Zhao Han ignored the weapon on his person and asked, "The author of this essay, 'Mr. Yanye' — who is he? Give me his name, not his courtesy or literary name."

Zhang Jiayu replied, "Mr. Yanye is Chen Bangyan."

Zhao Han immediately sighed and asked offhandedly, "The same Chen Bangyan whom many scholars recommended, but who refused to come when we tried to recruit him?"

"The very same," Zhang Jiayu said, cupping his hands in salute.

Chen Bangyan, also one of the late-Ming Three Loyalists of Lingnan, was currently running a school in the countryside. Whenever the local officials were undecided on governance matters, they would all seek his opinion.

In four words: he came from a great clan!

It was precisely because Zhao Han had forcibly redistributed land, and the Chen clan had suffered grievous losses, that Chen Bangyan resolutely refused to be recruited. Who would have thought that after Zhao Han left Guangzhou, he would take the initiative to write an essay pointing out the oversights in Zhao Han's land policy.

This man could not bear to be idle — his belly full of classical learning, yet he had failed the imperial examinations, and had no door through which to serve his country.

Historically, when the Nanjing court was established, Chen Bangyan immediately wrote "Essential Policies for Restoration," a work of tens of thousands of words, listing thirty-two strategies to save the nation, and traveled alone to Nanjing to present it to the Hongguang Emperor.

The Hongguang Emperor received the "Essential Policies for Restoration," saw there were too many characters, and couldn't be bothered to read it.

Later, when he was put to use by the Longwu Emperor, Chen Bangyan led troops against the Qing. His concubine and two sons were captured by Qing forces, who used them to coerce his immediate surrender. Chen Bangyan replied: "Let the concubine be disgraced, let the sons be killed. As a loyal minister, righteousness forbids me to care for wife and children."

Subsequently, Chen Bangyan withdrew from Guangzhou and turned to attack Sanshui, Xinhui, and Xiangshan — three battles, three victories.

While defending Qingyuan city, the Qing army dug a tunnel and blasted open the city wall. Chen Bangyan's second son died in the street fighting. Chen Bangyan himself, struck by three blades, threw himself into the water to commit suicide but was fished out by the Qing troops. Taken to Guangzhou, Chen Bangyan still refused to surrender. He fasted for five days in prison and was killed by the Qing soldiers.

Of the Three Loyalists of Lingnan, the remaining one was called Chen Zizhuang, and at this moment he was living right in the city of Guangzhou.

His entire family also died tragically, and Chen Zizhuang's death was the most gruesome of all, because he was the leader of the Guangdong resistance against the Qing.

He was bound and sawn in half starting from the top of his head. Because his body kept shaking, they could only saw through his scalp. Chen Zizhuang shouted at the executioner: "You idiot, you need a plank to saw a man!"

The executioner hastily tied Chen Zizhuang to a plank to hold him steady, and sawed him apart alive down the middle.

With his skullcap sawn open, Chen Zizhuang was still reciting his death poem: "Where do the golden branches go? In whose house do the jade leaves rest? The old root was once willing to die, vowing never to release spring blossoms."

His younger brother Chen Zisheng took their mother into hiding in the mountains. Upon hearing of her son's sacrifice, Mother Chen hanged herself from a beam. His concubine Zhang Yuqiao was taken in by the Qing general Li Chengdong; hearing of her husband's death, she cut her own throat and died.

Chen Zizhuang had been dismissed from office and sent home by Chongzhen from his post as Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites.

If he were willing to come over to their side, the scholars of Guangdong would surely swarm to join them. Unfortunately, this man also came from a great clan, and was deeply dissatisfied with Zhao Han's land redistribution.

"Ah, the Three Loyalists of Lingnan — I have only gained one and a half," Zhao Han sighed once more.

Zhang Jiayu asked, "Who are the Three Loyalists of Lingnan?"

Zhao Han brushed it off, saying, "Heroes of ancient times, that's all."

Of the Three Loyalists of Lingnan, one had come to offer his service of his own accord, one merely wrote an essay offering advice, and one stayed hidden away in his academy, refusing to emerge. Wasn't that precisely gaining one and a half?

(End of chapter)