Chapter 371: The Black Report

Male infertility was a huge challenge even in later generations. After ruling out seven major categories—reproductive organ abnormalities, endocrine disorders, sexual dysfunction, immune factors, infectious factors, physical and chemical factors with environmental pollution, and history of drug or surgical intervention—the patients for whom absolutely no cause could be found still accounted for 31.6% of the total...

In other words, even in the big-data era when the human genome had been fully mapped, one-third of patients still left doctors defeated by a roll of the dice... The mysteries in this field were simply too profound.

If that was the case in later generations, then the rudimentary conditions at Chikan General Hospital hardly needed mentioning. So when Nan Wang brought up the topic of infertility, Master Bai could only rub his bald head helplessly, then call for a nurse to bring over a set of teaching models amid stifled giggles.

Taking apart the wooden cocks laid out on the table, Master Bai casually gave the native before him a crash course on five or six areas prone to causing male infertility—and that was without even touching on difficult-to-explain causes like infections.

"See? It's just that troublesome." Bai Daifu concluded, "Don't do anything else yet. First come in for an examination. If we can find the cause, then we'll treat it."

"I understand. Many thanks, Director, many thanks." Nan Wang had grasped the complexity of the problem and rose, intending to take his leave.

"However... if you simply want a son, there is a shortcut." Master Bai rubbed his bald head again, leaned back in his chair, and said with a smile, "Just do a test-tube baby. The procedure isn't covered by medical insurance."

The morning after the hospital consultation, at Chikan Wharf, on the passenger ship jetty.

A certain person had already changed back into Ming attire. At this moment, a suitcase sat at his feet as he cupped his hands in salute, bidding farewell to Nan Wang.

Director Bai's words the day before had given the Ming man Fang Tangjing immense shock and hope. Though he could not understand many of the terms and principles, truth be told, Fang Tangjing did not need to fully understand them.

Just like the family members of a patient undergoing heart surgery at Union Hospital in later generations—could they truly comprehend those medical terms? What actually sustained the family and the patient was their faith in Union Hospital. They were willing to believe Union Hospital could handle the patient. That was all.

Fang Tangjing now faced the same issue. For this ancient man of the 17th century, what he truly needed to judge was whether Nan Wang and this industrial society here could be trusted.

As for Director Bai, who spoke like a book... that fell outside the scope of Fang Tangjing's judgment, because the distance between them was too vast. One only had to see how Nan Wang had been swatted out of the office like a fly.

"Worthy brother, when you return, plan carefully with the Old Master. First get the workshop up and running." Nan Wang reached out and patted his younger brother's shoulder. "As for the matter of treating the illness, there's no rush. Let's observe a while longer."

"Your younger brother understands." Fang Tangjing nodded. "This matter is complicated. People of our generation have no intention of interfering. Let's see what the Old Master himself intends."

It was only at the hospital the day before that Fang Tangjing had learned: to perform that test-tube fetus procedure, which sounded utterly fantastical, the husband and wife had to come here in person. Such a massive mobilization—and then thinking of Master Huang's N number of wives and concubines—made Fang Tangjing's head throb uncontrollably.

But the crux of the problem did not lie there. After the two returned the previous day, Nan Wang had explicitly told Fang Tangjing: whether it was selecting profitable good projects or performing surgeries not covered by medical insurance, none of these were things the Huang Family could achieve by simply paying out silver.

Everyone wanted good projects, and the consumables for special surgeries required allocations from the Intelligence Bureau. All of this pointed to one thing: the Huang Family needed to establish a relationship of "sharing the same breath and branches" with the General's Mansion to obtain what they desired.

Although Fang Tangjing could not articulate a lofty term like "strategic cooperative partnership," the moment Nan Wang uttered the phrase "sharing the same breath and branches," he instantly understood: alliance, pledge of loyalty, marriage alliance, shared fate... these were all tricks the ancients had played to death. How could Fang Tangjing, well-versed in historical texts, not understand?

Now that matters had reached this stage, both sides clearly understood each other's thoughts and demands. What remained was to see the choice of the decision-maker, Master Huang. But overall, based on Nan Wang and Fang Tangjing's understanding of the Old Master, they still had reason to be optimistic: Master Huang both loved wealth and lacked a foolish son, so "deep" cooperation with the General's Mansion should pose little problem.

"In that case, your younger brother takes his leave... Elder brother, take care!" After bidding farewell on the jetty, Fang Tangjing picked up his leather case, brought his servant, and prepared to board the ship.

"Be careful on the road. When you return, remember to tell the Old Master: if you wish to take, you must first give." Nan Wang gave a few final exhortations. "In no more than a few months, your elder brother here will also return to Hangzhou. When that time comes, we brothers shall drink and make merry together again!"

"It's settled then!"

Fang Tangjing had finally left. A wave of the hand, and he carried away a full load of gains and hope. And what of the other person, who carried away only the clouds?

As the tale branches into two flowers, let each be told in turn.

It is said that on the day Bo Daxing, Master Bo, left Dayuan, his ship sailed with favorable winds all the way, and within a few days he returned to Xinghua Prefecture.

Xinghua Prefecture was Putian of later generations. After returning to the circuit office located in the county seat of Putian, apart from reporting back to his superior, Inspector Jiao, Master Bo spent the rest of his time shut inside his study in a daze—until one day a subordinate clerk came to notify him: the munitions had arrived.

Upon hearing that the munitions he had originally ordered had reached port, Master Bo finally emerged from his study and hurriedly dragged his superior Jiao along to inspect the goods.

The result of the inspection filled Master Bo with grief and indignation: this batch of munitions, goddammit, was entirely top-grade, completely identical to the samples he had seen before, without the slightest trace of fraud!

His face thoroughly slapped, Master Bo could only watch helplessly as his superior, Inspector Jiao, stood there boasting, while a crowd of subordinate clerks beside them lavishly praised Inspector Jiao's public servant spirit of loyal service to the nation and refusal to take kickbacks. Then lofty labels like "Pillar of the State" and "Conscience of the Fujianese" were trotted out, threatening to puff him up into the path of a virtuous prime minister in waiting.

Inwardly seething with rage, Master Bo could only flick his sleeves and leave... He truly could not stomach such a repulsive scene.

And the matter of receiving the munitions ultimately became the final straw that steeled Master Bo's resolve. After returning home and pondering carefully, Master Bo could not help but be shocked by the Cao Clan's deep foresight and long-term planning: these people were unmoved by profit, which meant they must be plotting something far greater. My Ming Cult is in peril!

Thereupon, after making the most important decision of the latter half of his life, Master Bo immediately submitted his resignation from his sinecure post. He then moved out of the government office with his family and returned to his home in the rural clan lands of Putian.

After settling in hastily at home, on July 1st, 1629, a day of continuous drizzling rain, Master Bo, following his earlier decision, embarked upon a great journey.

Master Bo's first stop was Fuzhou.

Coming to Fuzhou naturally had a purpose: Master Bo wanted to meet with Xiong Wencan.

As the feudal official who had single-handedly propped up the Cao Clan, matters of Fujian, matters of the Cao Clan, matters of family, state, and the world—none of these could ultimately bypass Xiong Wencan. Therefore, Master Bo absolutely had to meet with Xiong Wencan first.

Master Bo still had confidence in this meeting: although Xiong Wencan and the Cao Clan shared a relationship of mutual political benefit, Xiong Wencan was, after all, a member of the scholar-official class. When faced with the survival of Confucianism and the landlord-tenant farming system—the very foundation of the scholar-officials—there should be nothing he could not see clearly.

Moreover, Xiong Wencan was now on the list of people Master Bo classified as "deceived by Cao Chuan." Therefore, for both public and private reasons, Master Bo needed to go save, admonish, and awaken Xiong Wencan.

Meeting Xiong Wencan was actually not very easy. Not to mention that Master Bo was now a retired old cadre—even when he had been Deputy Military Defense Circuit Intendant, his rank was still N levels below Lao Xiong's. So Lao Xiong certainly could not be seen on a whim; one had to wait for an opportunity.

Master Bo had brought three household staff on this trip. After the party arrived in Fuzhou, Master Bo easily obtained hospitality at the residence of a fellow examination graduate. The party of master and four servants settled into an exquisite little courtyard.

The next day, after dispatching his personal attendant Bo Gui to the Grand Coordinator's Office to deliver his visiting card and register, Master Bo essentially had nothing to do but compose poetry and play with ink with his colleague to pass the time.

After waiting a full week, a runner from the Grand Coordinator's Office finally came to inform Master Bo: tomorrow was the Grand Coordinator's day of rest, and he could receive Master Bo from Xinghua Prefecture in the afternoon. After tipping the runner for his errand, Master Bo arrived early the next afternoon at the Grand Coordinator's Office to queue.

After spending some time in the waiting room staring awkwardly at a group of officials likewise seeking an audience with Lao Xiong, Master Bo finally reached the moment of his meeting with Lao Xiong.

The very first moment of seeing Lao Xiong made Master Bo secretly raise his guard: on the tea table in the flower hall were arrayed a glass cup, salt soda, Yellow Crane Tower cigarettes, a lighter... in short, all items belonging to the Cao family.

After the formalities of greeting and being offered a seat, Xiong Wencan, still dressed in his Daoist robe, dispensed with pleasantries and directly asked Master Bo's reason for coming: "I wonder what instruction Songming (Master Bo's courtesy name) has for me today?"

"I dare not. Your student seeks an audience with the Grand Coordinator today because he has an important matter to report." With that, Master Bo pulled from his bosom several Cao silver dollars and paper notes he had long prepared.

"This coinage was minted by that Cao Chuan. Together with these treasure notes, they all bear the likeness of that man Cao. This is a reprint of a reign title, a blatant crime of gross disrespect. Cao Chuan's rebellious intent is already manifest. I beseech the Grand Coordinator to promptly arrest this villain."

Xiong Wencan was momentarily a bit stunned. Once he realized exactly what Master Bo was talking about, he could not help but laugh in spite of himself.

Reaching out to pick up a Cao silver dollar, Lao Xiong first blew on it with extreme professionalism. After listening to the ring, he finally spoke leisurely: "Songming, I fear there is a misunderstanding here. This item was shipped in by sea merchants from foreign, barbarian nations and merely passed through the hands of the Cao Clan. The portrait on it is not Cao Chuan."

"Ah!?" No matter how many calculations Master Bo had made, he had never expected Xiong Wencan to give this kind of answer today. "This item's common name is precisely 'Cao Dollar'! Everyone on Yizhou Island uses it. How could the portrait not be Cao Chuan's?"

"Haha." Xiong Wencan laughed heartily. "This coin is exquisitely minted. People in Fuzhou City have long been using it. As for this portrait... Cao Chuan happens to be coming to the Fuzhou Governor's Office for a discussion tomorrow. If Songming does not believe me, you may meet Cao Chuan tomorrow, and the truth will be plain to see."

Master Bo plopped down onto a chair. From Xiong Wencan's utterly confident attitude, he saw the reality: this portrait truly was not Cao Chuan's!?

Forcefully suppressing his negative feelings after having made a fool of himself, Bo Daxing, Master Bo—who had prepared extremely thoroughly for today's meeting—immediately opened up a second front: he pulled a memorandum from his sleeve and presented it with both hands to Lao Xiong.