Chapter 189: Night Meeting with Xiong Wencan

The back street of the Fuzhou Governor's Office.

Song Jia no longer looked like the merchant he had been earlier in the day. Now he wore a straw hat and a brown short jacket and trousers, utterly inconspicuous, very working-class.

The sky was already fully dark. Song Jia sat with his head lowered on a broken stone drum by the roadside, the tip of his cigarette flaring and dimming.

His position was still fifty meters from the back gate of the Fuzhou Governor's Office. Beside the street sat a green bamboo sedan chair and four sedan bearers played by intelligence operatives from Fuzhou Station, plus Song Jia — nothing more.

As for "Cao Chuan," five minutes earlier he had already been led away by Xiong Qi, Xiong Wencan's trusted household servant.

After the two sides met on the back street of the Prefectural Yamen, Cao Chuan, wearing an eye cloth, followed behind Xiong Qi, who carried a lantern, and silently slipped through a side door into the backyard of the Fuzhou Governor's Office.

In most dynasties, the layout of Chinese-style government offices was rigidly prescribed. Although the Governor Office covered a large area, it was in fact just an oversized, dilapidated County Yamen — equally desolate, equally run-down.

In public terms, under the strict centralization of power in a feudal dynasty, local officials had no funds for repairs — most tax revenue was remitted to the Ministry of Revenue, and there was simply no budget for such things.

In private terms, the salaries of local officials in the Ming and Qing dynasties were a lump-sum system; all the money for supporting a family, keeping a mistress, and hiring private advisors came out of that one sum — repairing the yamen for the state was even more impossible.

Zhang Dongdong — no, Comrade "Cao Chuan" — had not followed far behind Xiong Qi before rounding a corner to the door of the study where Xiong Wencan was. While waiting for Xiong Qi to go in and announce him, Zhang Dongdong took the opportunity to remove his eye cloth and straighten his clothes.

Very soon, Zhang Dongdong was invited in by Xiong Qi.

With no time to observe the study lit by a solar lamp, Zhang Dongdong entered, and following the standard procedure from his training, lowered his head, strode forward, lifted the hem of his robe, and knelt and kowtowed toward the figure in the chair: "Commoner Cao Chuan kneels and kowtows to the Grand Coordinator."

"Cao Chuan, there is no need for such ceremony. Please rise, quickly." Xiong Wencan, wearing a pine pattern Daoist robe, now leaned forward and raised his hand, helping Cao Chuan up before his knees could touch the ground.

"Many thanks, Grand Coordinator!"

... Xiong Wencan treating the visitor with such courtesy was only to be expected.

Lao Xiong, having risen to become a Feudal Official governing a whole region, was naturally no bookish pedant. In this setting, alone with just the two of them, putting on bureaucratic airs was utterly pointless.

Moreover, starting from Xiong Dao in Hangzhou, the silver and jewels that Dayuan's side had used to pave the way — Lao Xiong had already accepted quite a lot. Three days ago, Cao Chuan's gift list had included a base of ten thousand taels of silver ingots and five strings of pearls — and the most dazzling, incomparably rare treasure, the Pure Yang Lamp, was sitting right now on the desk. This was a genuine treasure; the Transmigrators had given away only this one lamp so far, and would never give another — even the Emperor couldn't get one.

In a word: the hand that takes is short.

Furthermore, treating those who surrendered with courtesy was also the official stance Xiong Wencan had settled on before leaving the capital. So, aside from changing the target of the Summon Pacification, Lao Xiong followed the established routine in every other respect.

Why treat those who surrender with courtesy? For that, one must ask Zheng Zhilong.

In fact, ever since the Ming-Dutch Penghu War four years ago, the Zheng Zhilong Group, which at the time had accepted official orders and opposed the Dutch, had been in a state of being offered Recruitment and Amnesty — being strung along — offered Recruitment and Amnesty again — strung along again.

In short, in the eyes of the authorities, both the Dutch and Lao Zheng were chamber pots. The authorities would sometimes promise Lao Zheng Recruitment and Amnesty, sometimes promise the Dutch the opening of trade; whichever group was acting up, they would use bait to draw in the other group to attack and kill each other.

This game was played until last year — the first year of the Crossing Over, 1627 — when the authorities finally played it to the breaking point.

The course of events was this: in early 1627, after stirring up trouble through several raids, Zheng Zhilong once again felt the warm current of Recruitment and Amnesty. The person stepping forward this time was Cai Shanji, then serving as Quanzhou Prefect.

Yet when Zheng Zhilong eagerly rushed to Quanzhou to meet Cai Shanji, he did not receive the warmth and sincerity he had imagined — the familiar routine, the familiar insincere smile, the familiar stench of contempt emanating from the bone...

At that moment, Lao Zheng had an awakening. In the words of later generations, Lao Zheng finally put down his burdens, cast aside all distracting thoughts, and resolutely began to carry out a comprehensive line of armed struggle.

And so Lao Zheng began to raise hell. The authorities, for their part, skillfully organized an Allied Forces of officials, bandits, and foreigners — only this time, Lao Zheng routed the Allied Forces.

From the moment Regional Commander Yu Zigao was beaten into fleeing the battlefield, the authorities' game of driving the tiger to devour the wolf could no longer be played. Like those Ponzi schemes of later generations that flee, dancing on the tip of a knife, the bubble was bound to burst one day.

Thus came Lao Xiong governing Fujian. Thus, the attitude of Cai Shanji — which had been a perfectly normal disdain for pirates — now became a superficial pretext: attention must be paid to etiquette, because their face had already been beaten swollen; this time it was real Recruitment and Amnesty, not fake Recruitment and Amnesty...

"So young, yet able to set your heart on the righteous path — not easy, not easy." After Cao Chuan had taken his seat, Xiong Wencan gently stroked his long beard and said amiably, "Cao Chuan, your coming here today — this ability to assess the situation is no small thing either, heh heh."

"All thanks to Your Excellency's gracious favor, not scorning me for my lowly origins — how could Cao Chuan dare not repay it by grinding my bones to dust?"

"Ha ha..."

A round of mutual commercial flattery to open — this was an obligatory routine. One playing the mentor, the other reciting the Chu Shi Biao; the atmosphere was very harmonious.

After that, the conversation unfolded.

Lao Xiong's first question in the conversation did not surprise Zhang Dongdong: why did the Transmigrators want to snatch Zheng Zhilong's Recruitment and Amnesty, why were they so urgent about it, and why were they "full of confidence"?

Zhang Dongdong then, following the answer prepared in advance, expounded the motive from a rather unique angle: commodities.

Zhang Dongdong stated that the kerosene lamps and glass bowls previously gifted to Lao Xiong, among other fine things, were all secret techniques the Transmigrators had learned from the Westerners, which they manufactured themselves by opening kilns in Dayuan.

Therefore, the Transmigrators were not like the Zheng Zhilong Gang, which produced nothing; the Transmigrators had competitive products, had family enterprises, and were good citizens with perseverance. The only thing they now lacked was the Great Ming market after receiving court recognition... hence the need for Recruitment and Amnesty.

After hearing this, Xiong Wencan nodded slightly.

Confucian officials of the Ming dynasty did not understand concepts like domestic demand, foreign demand, or trade generating wealth. So when people like Zheng Zhilong sold domestic goods overseas, in their view, this behavior of producing nothing and merely buying and selling was undermining the state.

However, what Cao Chuan had just told him was far better than the likes of the Zheng Clan — at least these people had output. Although it wasn't proper goods like grain and cloth, lamps and glass bowls were still daily necessities, were they not? They might even serve as tribute goods.

If that were the case, then the Crossing Faction, with its homes, enterprises, and pots and jars, was indeed a cut above roving bandits like the Zheng Clan.

After pondering briefly, Xiong Wencan set this matter aside for the moment and turned instead to assessing Zhang Dongdong's judgment of the current situation.

This, of course, was "Cao Chuan's" strong suit.

Xiong Wencan's question, plainly put, was: if he, the old man, were to extend Recruitment and Amnesty to the Transmigrators, how would Cao Chuan and his people sweep away these great bandit gangs on the sea?

Zhang Dongdong answered this question in two steps.

First point: Zhang Dongdong stated that the Transmigrators possessed sharp firearms, and their main warships were all built using Western methods, hence their fierce firepower and strong combat capability — as could be seen from how the brothers had beaten the Dutch away.

Second point: Zhang Dongdong humbly stated that while the soldiers under his command were brave, they were few in number, suited only to serve as a sharp blade to break enemy formations and take the heads of enemy commanders... As for the strategic aspect, they would still need Old Xiong to take charge of the overall situation in the future; they would simply follow orders — whoever you point at, we strike!

Xiong Wencan's eyes narrowed as he listened.

The Transmigrators, having long since thoroughly studied Lao Xiong's mind, now spoke every sentence right to the heart of him.

Historically, Lao Xiong had held his nose and granted Recruitment and Amnesty to Lao Zheng, then used Lao Zheng to unify the underworld — which led to Lao Zheng becoming too big to control. Within a few years, the entire strength of Fujian province was no longer able to restrain Lao Zheng.

After Zheng Zhilong submitted to pacification, the Ming Court repeatedly issued edicts attempting to transfer Zheng Zhilong northward and southward to fight various other forces... Yet Zheng Zhilong defended his old nest to the death and refused to obey the edicts, and the Ming Court was utterly helpless.

Could Xiong Wencan, a man deeply read in the histories, not have seen that this situation of regional warlordism would arise back when he granted the Recruitment and Amnesty?

In fact, Xiong Wencan knew perfectly well what would happen after the Recruitment and Amnesty, but he was completely powerless — Lao Xiong was simply a traditional bureaucrat who hoped to paper over all problems within his term of office. Facing Zheng Zhilong's strength at the time, what could he do? He was in despair too!

Now everything was different.

When "Cao Chuan" indicated: I am fierce, but my foundation is insufficient, so I will follow your lead on the overall situation — including the troops needed later to bolster our presence, all of which will need you, Old Sir, to provide... this scratched Lao Xiong right where he itched.

What was the authorities' strong suit? Was it not vast resources? Lao Xiong could disburse silver from the Provincial Treasury, could mobilize the troops and horses of all Fujian province, could seal and commandeer civilian vessels across the province — the only thing he lacked was a fierce general to break the enemy lines!

And the mode of cooperation that Cao Chuan proposed tonight was precisely the scenario Lao Xiong most wished to see: a small number of elite troops stepping forward to behead the enemy commander and break the formation, with government troops following up to mop up. Afterward, the troops would take the lion's share of the credit, and the Crossing Faction, few in number and utterly rootless in Fujian, would still need to rely on him, the old man, to survive. That way, the initiative would always remain in his own hands, and naturally he need not fear Cao Chuan growing too big to control...

At that moment, Xiong Wencan sank into deep thought.

And Comrade "Cao Chuan," naturally, would not interrupt Lao Xiong's train of thought at this time, and so the study fell into a stretch of silence.

When Xiong Qi came in carrying a tea tray to change the water, he found that his master's conversation with Sea Lord Cao had already reached its final stage, for they were already chatting about some unimportant business matters.

Yet just at that moment, Xiong Qi heard one sentence that instantly sent his heart racing to 180: "No matter where Your Excellency takes up your post in the future, this commoner's business in colored-glaze cups and bowls will, after all, have to trouble Your Excellency to find some buyers locally. Ah, in the current age, buying and selling is not easy to do — even good wine fears a deep alley!"

Xiong Qi withdrew from the study on trembling legs. At this moment, what floated before his eyes were those crystal-clear colored-glaze bowls and piles of silver ingots: such precious goods still needed to search everywhere for buyers?

Xiong Qi then caught on at once: probably, as long as his master nodded just one point, the colored-glaze bowl business in Fujian would henceforth have a certain Xiong serving as general agent!

Ah, what the hell kind of... At this moment, Xiong Qi's soul left his body. He only wanted to turn around, rush back into the room, hug his master's thigh, and tearfully plead: When the time comes, you must be sure to send out your loyal servant Xiong Qi to serve as shopkeeper!