Chapter 271: We Have Decided to Lead the Donglin

"Junior Brother, Your Highness, this is the wheel-lock musket you asked for. My father bought it from merchants of the Red-haired Country."

After Wei Zaode left, Zhu Cilang's senior fellow apprentice Zheng Sen arrived at Yongchun Garden right on his heels, bringing Zhu Cilang a flintlock gun made in Europe — called a wheel-lock musket here in the Ming. This kind of firearm had actually appeared long ago, but because the technology was immature, it had never been mass-produced. And for the Crown Prince's Great Ming, even matchlock production capacity was far from sufficient, so there was no point dreaming about leapfrogging straight to flintlocks.

"Oh, let Us have a look." Zhu Cilang took the musket, toyed with it as he asked Zheng Sen, "When can your father come?"

"Soon, soon." Zheng Sen said, "My father has been buying muskets for Your Highness these days. Once he has gathered a full five thousand, he will deliver them all at once. Also — also—"

"Also what?" Zhu Cilang asked.

Zheng Sen said, "This subject has a full sister named Chagu, fourteen this year. My father wishes to bring her to Nanjing for Thousand Years to have a look at."

"Chagu?" Zhu Cilang smiled at the name. Zheng Zhilong really did have a knack for naming his children! Zheng Chenggong was called "Damu," and his sister was "Chagu" — both tied to plants.

Zheng Sen saw Zhu Cilang's smile and quickly added, "Junior Brother, Your Highness, my sister is quite fair of face, and she is well-read and versed in propriety. If she could attend upon Junior Brother—"

Zhu Cilang smiled and nodded. "Good, good. We have always held the Zheng family of Anping in high regard and have long wished to form a marriage alliance. Now that your father intends to send your sister into the palace, We could not ask for more!"

Another wife — and the daughter of the richest man in the Ming, no less! Of course it was a good thing! In truth, the Crown Prince had had his eye on Zheng Zhilong's daughter for some time. When the richest man in the Ming married off a daughter, surely he would have to provide a dowry of one or two million taels?

If old Zheng did not bring it up himself, he would have Zheng Sen act as matchmaker.

Seeing Zhu Cilang agree with such delight, the stone in Zheng Sen's heart dropped to the ground. He knew that Zhu Cilang and Wu Sanmei were deeply attached, and he had worried that the Crown Prince would refuse to take his sister as a junior consort.

Judging by the Crown Prince's attitude now, he was clearly a mature "bedroom politician" — marriages in an imperial house were political bargaining chips to begin with! For over two hundred years, the Great Ming had not played at political marriages, instead taking wives and concubines from humble households. That was simply wasting resources!

And Zhu Cilang, who currently had little capital to his name, naturally would not refuse a marriage alliance with the richest man of the Zheng family.

Once the marriage alliance was settled, Zhu Cilang had more or less finished examining the flintlock, which was crafted like a work of art — a fine gun, but not an easy one to copy!

These days the Crown Prince had already set people to reorganizing the Tianjin artisan households that had come with the army, and he wanted to select the most skilled among them to form a small "Royal Ironworks." He had sent Su Ziwen, Li Zubai, and Li Shi to pick the men, but so far there had been no reply — likely because they could not find enough satisfactory craftsmen. If this "high-technology" workshop could be established, perhaps he could have them try to make a few flintlocks.

But Jiangnan was now a center of weaving and porcelain, and could not produce ironware of any great quality. In this era, the center of Chinese iron production was the town of Foshan in Guangdong. Zhu Cilang had already inquired into the Foshan iron industry — in this period, the Luoding area produced high-quality iron ore, northern Guangdong abounded in lime (for removing impurities) and timber, and Guangdong's developed water transport could carry all of these to Foshan for processing.

Moreover, because Foshan was close to Macau, it had absorbed a great deal of Western technology over the past hundred-odd years, so that Foshan's iron industry now crowned the realm!

Jiangnan's iron-smelting industry, by contrast, had gradually declined under the competition from Foshan's ironworks. It no longer had much competitiveness, and reviving it would take considerable effort!

When it came to the tech tree, it truly was not something one could climb just by wanting to.

"Xiaobao," Zhu Cilang handed the musket to Huang Xiaobao, "take this to Chen Shifang for safekeeping, and have him and Feng Sizhong come over together."

"Yes."

Watching Huang Xiaobao leave with the musket, Zhu Cilang waved his hand again and dismissed the young eunuchs attending in Yongchun Pavilion, leaving only Zheng Sen and himself.

"Senior Brother, how are the arrangements?" Zhu Cilang asked with a smile.

"Your Highness, everything is arranged." Zheng Sen lowered his voice. "Tonight the banquet is set at Baimen Pavilion. Hou Fangyu, Huang Zongxi, Luo Dagong, Mao Xiang, and Zhang Huangyan have all been invited, and the two female scholars Li Yulin and Zhang Jingyi will also attend."

"Luo Dagong? Who is he?" Zhu Cilang asked. He knew Hou Fangyu, Huang Zongxi, and Mao Xiang, but he had never heard of this Luo Dagong.

"He is a fellow disciple of ours," Zheng Sen said with a smile. "A prized pupil of our teacher, known as Master Dagong of Songjiang. In truth, he is an office-seeker. This subject has already spoken with him; when the time comes, he will speak on Thousand Years' behalf."

"An office-seeker, is that good?" Zhu Cilang smiled. "Then why has our teacher not recommended him for office?"

"How can a recommended office compare to a jinshi degree earned by examination?"

"True enough!" Zhu Cilang suddenly looked at Zheng Sen. "Senior Brother, at next spring's special examination, you should sit it too, and win a jinshi as well!"

Zheng Sen was overjoyed at these words and was about to express his gratitude when a voice announced from outside that Chen Shifang, the Director of the Eastern Depot, and Feng Sizhong, the Captain of the Guard, had arrived.

Zhu Cilang smiled at Zheng Sen, who was about to bow. "We are all family here — no need for thanks. It is getting late; we should be off on our incognito visit!"

Nanjing's Qinhuai River was divided into three sections: the Inner City, the West Outer Ward, and the East Outer Ward. The most bustling was of course the West Outer Ward — outside Sanshan Gate, shops stood in dense rows, thriving beyond measure. Yet amid all that bustle there was too much common street life, and too little refined elegance. So what the scholars and beauties loved most was this stretch of the Qinhuai inside Sanshan Gate.

A courtyard stood on the banks of the Qinhuai, not far from the barbican of Sanshan Gate. Three courtyards deep, modest in size, yet exquisitely tasteful.

The courtyard backed onto the Qinhuai.

Not only could one enjoy the scenery of the Qinhuai, but it also had its own little dock, allowing guests who arrived by boat to come and go quietly — a most thoughtful design.

In a small pavilion within the courtyard, Master Dagong of Songjiang, Luo Dagong, leaned against the railing, folding fan in hand, discoursing grandly with Huang Zongxi and two pale-faced scholars.

"Have you all heard? Sun Zhixie, the eunuch-faction ringleader who threw in with the Tartars, has already reached Shandong. In a few days he will be here in Nanjing. He has shaved his head and braided his queue, dressed all in barbarian garb. He is no longer a son of the Confucian school!"

"That remnant of the eunuch faction, Sun Zhixie, ceased to be a son of the Confucian school long ago! Otherwise why would he have thrown in with the Tartars?"

"I hear that Beijing has been expelling Han commoners these days! The Han people inside Beijing have all been driven out to make room for the Tartars! For three hundred li around Beijing, wherever the Tartars take a fancy to the fields, they ride around staking claims, and the Han commoners on that land must all submit and become slaves. Those unwilling to become slaves are driven off at once!"

"Would that not mean driving off over a million people?"

"Driving off? It is plainly forcing the Han of Northern Zhili to their deaths!"

"Hmph, and is this not the result of abandoning Beijing and moving south! To move south is to abandon the land of our ancestors, and the people of our ancestors!"

"Taichong—"

Luo Dagong had spent all this time stirring up opinion, but now that Huang Zongxi had rebuked him, he did not know what to say.

Just then, Kou Baimen's voice came from downstairs.

"Baimen greets Young Master Zheng. And this gentleman is—"

This "Baimen Pavilion" was the club Zheng Sen had set up for Zhu Cilang, placed under the management of the Qinhuai courtesan Kou Baimen — the purpose of such a club, of course, was to make it easier to deal with the younger generation of the Donglin and Restoration Society.

The so-called Eight Beauties of Qinhuai were in truth just courtesans puffed up by these shameless literati. The younger members of the Donglin and Restoration Society were all infatuated with these prostitutes.

And Zhu Cilang had no intention of rounding up these younger Donglin and Restoration Society members all at once. Rather, he meant to lead them — because only by becoming their leader could he most effectively cleanse them, one batch at a time!

If he set them against him and began with brutal suppression, he feared they could not be wiped out cleanly in one stroke — and if the Tartars attacked again, and these shameless literati turned into collaborators, Zhu Cilang's troubles would be enormous.

So he now felt that letting Qian Qianyi, Hou Xun, and Wei Zaode serve as the new Three Worthies of Donglin, while he himself became the next Donglin chief, was the way — henceforth the Donglin Faction would unite around the leadership collective with Zhu Cilang at its core!

"This is Zhu Yaofei, from Beijing." Zheng Sen gave Zhu Cilang's "assumed name."

"Young Master Zhu, please come in." Kou Baimen's fine brows knitted slightly; her eyes did not look at Zhu Cilang. She merely made a gesture of invitation and led the way.

Zhu Cilang, for his part, had little interest in this Qinhuai courtesan — though by later standards of beauty, Kou Baimen was indeed very pretty. But her father was neither the richest man in the land, nor a warlord, nor a Tartar prince regent. So the Crown Prince, whose heart embraced the realm, would not be taking her in.

Zhu Cilang glanced back at Feng Sizhong, who was following him. Sword in hand, Feng Sizhong immediately stepped forward and followed Kou Baimen upstairs. Outside the gate were a dozen or more guards and Eastern Depot troops, all of whom had arrived on the same boat as Zhu Cilang. Under Chen Shifang's direction, they had surrounded Baimen Pavilion on all sides.

After Feng Sizhong came Zheng Sen, also bearing a sword, striding along behind him. The Crown Prince, changed into Confucian robes, waved a paper fan and followed them up to the second floor.

(End of Chapter)