Chapter 1383: The Ming's Nation of Sons Is Not for Just Anyone!

Old Mountain Palace, Left Garden.

Tonight, the residence of Mary Mancini was once again ablaze with lights and filled with distinguished guests.

The main building of Left Garden was H-shaped, surrounded everywhere by dense shade trees and green lawns — the sort of Western-style lawn courtyard. Stepping into the great hall, it too was laid out entirely in Western fashion. The first-floor hall had a soaring ceiling and looked thoroughly imposing. In particular, the staircases that swept down from the second-floor platforms on either side and then merged together gave one the sense that the master of this place stood high above all.

Beneath the staircase, in a hall decorated entirely in Western style, a Chinese-style banquet was under way — a great gathering, with several tables set out. Chinese and foreign guests sat intermingled, the tables laden with exquisite dishes, though knives and forks were laid before the foreigners, while chopsticks were set before the Chinese-faced guests. Serving women in white clothes wove back and forth, endlessly bringing wine and dishes.

Three seats at the head table were still empty. Zhu Cilang and Mary Mancini had not yet appeared — that was the rule at Left Garden banquets. What was the status of Zhu Cilang and Mary Mancini? Naturally they would not sit drinking and toasting with everyone; they would merely put in an appearance. They had not shown up yet, and it was reckoned they were still enjoying a candlelit dinner with Mary Mancini in the small dining room on the second floor. As for whom the third empty seat belonged to, no one could say.

Yet even with three people missing, the atmosphere at the head table was still very lively. A Chinese man in his forties, ruddy-faced, with large eyes and a long beard, dressed in Western clothes, was holding forth at length, expounding on a breathtaking dream.

"Who among those worthy to be guests at Left Garden would care about two or three hundred thousand taels of silver? Whose family doesn't have two or three million taels? Whose money isn't more than enough to spend for several lifetimes? But who can guarantee that sons and grandsons will all enjoy glory and wealth? Who can guarantee that no wastrel will appear in the family? Of course, we're not afraid of wastrels who merely eat, drink, and amuse themselves, and brats who chase women outside are no great matter either — we don't lack that bit of money. The problem is that some little brats don't know their own weight and insist on imitating others by throwing themselves into some enterprise — now that is a bottomless pit! While we old ones are still around, there's nothing to worry about. What we fear is that once we kick the bucket, our descendants will take the inheritance and squander it recklessly, until they ruin the family completely!"

At this point, the man's expression suddenly turned grave: "So rather than let unworthy descendants go squandering recklessly, it's better that we few do the squandering ourselves! Let us make one more effort and leave our descendants an estate that cannot be ruined no matter what. What sort of estate is hard to ruin these days? In my view, it is the foundation of a state or a city!

Look here — the richest man in our Great Ming, His Majesty, left his descendants estates that are mostly commonwealths, kingdoms, and duchies, did he not? That proves the point: a vast fortune vanishes with a little squandering. But a state or a city is not so easily squandered away.

Of course, people like us cannot compare with His Majesty. We dare not dream of a state, but the opportunity for a city has now arrived!"

As he spoke, the man had already risen from his seat, spreading his arms wide and raising them high, his face showing an expression of boundless yearning: "Think of it — leaving to your descendants a free and autonomous city-state, a city that can endure for hundreds or even a thousand years, a city of our own where our descendants can long enjoy glory and wealth!

Such an opportunity is right before us!"

The one holding forth so grandly was, needless to say, Lin Yihu — also known as Jobs — who had just been appointed Vice Governor-General of the Southern Continent.

"Well said!"

"Excellently said!"

No sooner had Jobs finished speaking than two Westerners dressed in Chinese python robes loudly cheered and applauded.

Everyone turned to look and saw that the ones cheering were Rodney and Luo Afang — the two major shareholders of the Australia-New Zealand Trading Company, and also the leaders of the Portuguese settled in Great Ming.

"Mr. Jia, is it truly the case this time that anyone at all may open a city-state on the Southern Continent?"

The question came from a Japanese merchant dressed in Wu-style robes, who was not seated at the head table but at a round table to its right. He appeared to be about the same age as Jobs, but his bearing and manner exuded a steady, composed air.

Jobs did not know him, but soon Yun Rushui, an assistant manager of the Royal Trading Company, smilingly made the introduction: "Mr. Jia, this Japanese friend is Mr. Sumitomo Tomoi, proprietor of Japan's Izumiya and Fujiya."

"I have long admired your name!" Jobs had heard of Sumitomo Tomoi's great reputation. This man was one of Japan's most celebrated great merchants, and at the same time a purveyor to the Japanese imperial court. This time he had come to Great Ming by order of Mitsukuni to engage master miners to return home and help develop the Besshi copper mine. While recruiting men in Shanghai Prefecture, he had heard that Great Ming was opening up the Southern Continent and recruiting "franchisees," thought it an opportunity, and so had come to Yingtian Prefecture, and through Japan's Office of Presentation had obtained an invitation to tonight's banquet.

After the two sides had exchanged courtesies, Jobs smiled and continued: "Mr. Sumitomo, His Majesty has said that anyone at all, so long as they can put together four oceangoing sailing ships, is qualified to negotiate exploration and development contracts with the Southern Continent administration — in theory, qualified to open a city-state on the Southern Continent.

Of course, the specific terms depend on the provisions of the contract. Each contract is different, and the conditions will vary. And one contract permits the opening of only one city-state."

This was an opportunity!

Sumitomo Tomoi was inwardly thrilled! Not because he himself wanted to go open a city-state on the Southern Continent, but because his master Xu Guangguo needed to open city-states on the Southern Continent for his sons, nephews, and retainers.

Japan's samurai were forever in surplus!

Even though the Malacca War and the subsequent colonization had consumed nearly a hundred thousand samurai and ronin, greatly easing the pressure on the Japanese court after the union of court and shogunate, Xu Guangguo still had to plan ahead and find outlets for the endlessly "produced" samurai.

Moreover, what Japan had in surplus domestically was not only samurai but also peasants! Samurai could go abroad as soldiers, but peasants had no very good destination. Although some were taken abroad by samurai to farm as laborers, in the end there were not very many. After all, samurai who obtained fiefs overseas and needed domestic peasants to clear the land were extremely limited in number.

But opening "samurai city-states" on the Southern Continent could plainly achieve two things at once — exporting both samurai and peasants, and this method could also export high-ranking samurai of the castle-lord class!

"Mr. Jia, what sorts of matters will the Southern Continent exploration and development contracts generally stipulate?" Someone else now asked a question — this time it was Worcester, the chief of the British East India Company, who had accompanied Rear Admiral Blake to Yingtian Prefecture and had then obtained an invitation from Heber, the East India Company's chief stationed in Yingtian Prefecture.

"Generally they will stipulate the number of exploration ships, the number of crew, and the number of settlers accompanying the ships," Jobs said patiently. "Of course, they also need to stipulate the form of government of the city-state to be built."

"What?" Worcester was startled. "The form of government can be discussed in the contract?"

He thought to himself: Isn't that a bit too progressive?

Jobs laughed: "Of course it can be discussed! It is a matter of importance! Whether the autonomous city-state is to practice monarchy or a republic, and whether the city lord is to be called governor, duke, or protector of the city — all must be agreed upon in advance."

It could even be a republic? And could be called Lord Protector — no, Protector of the City? Worcester thought to himself: Then could the form of government of the Southern Continent vassal state be discussed? "Kingdom" sounds backward — better call it the Southern Continent Republic! The leader of the state could be called Lord Protector, and it would suffice for the Zhu emperor's family to hold it hereditarily.

Jobs seemed to have guessed Worcester's thoughts, and continued: "In addition, the manner in which the autonomous cities will participate in the establishment of the Southern Continent vassal state must also be agreed upon in the contract."

That was how the Southern Continent's constitutional government came about — not bestowed by anyone, nor won by rebellion from below, but negotiated contract by contract.

Zhu Cilang was also open-minded about republican institutions. Zhu He'ao could be a king, or could be a Lord Protector — it was all much the same anyway.