Chapter 201: St. Paul's College

"This... well..."

In truth, Shen Yourong had never actually considered this matter before, and even the fact that the Chongzhen Emperor had directly agreed and, placing great importance on it, sent Wang Cheng'en, the eunuch Director of the Eastern Depot, to come and settle it — that too was beyond his expectations.

Looking at the calm, unruffled expression on Wang Cheng'en's face, Shen Yourong's heart was churning like stormy waves.

This Wang Cheng'en had followed the current Emperor since the Prince Xin Residence, rising step by step from the position of steward to Chief Brush-Holder, and now to the seat of Director of the Eastern Depot. Aside from the current Emperor's extreme trust in him, how could the man himself not have genuine ability?

If one were to speak of it, eunuchs were the most fearsome of people — these men had already lost the very root of being human, and any one of them might well be a degenerate.

And moreover, Wang Cheng'en was different from ordinary eunuchs. Li Fengxiang was greedy for wealth, Wang Dehua was obsessed with power, and even Li Chun, having been promoted to seal-holder of the Palace of Direct Attendance, had recently grown somewhat arrogant.

But this Wang Cheng'en — even if you searched for faults as meticulously as one might pick through sesame seeds and mung beans, it would be difficult to find any indelible stain on the man's life. No stories or evidence of him coveting wealth or clinging to power could be found. To put it broadly, this man handled affairs and conducted himself with the utmost care — truly, not even a single improper word had ever crossed his lips.

But could this mean Wang Cheng'en was truly a good-natured old man? As Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi who had weathered decades of ups and downs in officialdom, Shen Yourong understood one principle: the more placid a person in a high position appeared, the more terrifying and the more extraordinary he truly was.

Take, for instance, the year Wei Zhongxian was condemned to death. Though Shen Yourong had no evidence, he had a gut feeling that this smiling tiger Wang Cheng'en must have played no small part in it.

Eunuchs were all extremely petty people — Shen Yourong knew this truth well. That was why he was so cautious. Hearing Wang Cheng'en's question, his mind turned quickly, and he said: "Your subordinate had considered this matter even before Your Excellency arrived. I now have three candidates in mind, and I would ask Your Excellency to help me vet them."

"Mm, isn't that precisely why His Majesty sent me here?" Wang Cheng'en drained his tea and sat quietly, saying: "Tell me about them one by one."

"The first is a foreigner named Jiemu, said to be a missionary of the local Jesuit church and a student of Matteo Ricci, with some reputation among the Portuguese in the leased territory. The second is a Portuguese merchant called Shadegui, who has a particular interest in silk and holds considerable prestige among the Portuguese merchants in Macau. As for the third... Your subordinate had better not say..."

As he spoke, Shen Yourong hesitated, stammering and unwilling to say more.

Having heard the first two candidates, Wang Cheng'en frowned deeply. The missionary Jiemu surely enjoyed high prestige among the Portuguese — after all, in this era in the West, the profession of missionary was not something just anyone could take up.

But then again, this type of person was hard to control. Finding someone like Johann Adam Schall von Bell or Ferdinand Verbiest who wouldn't surrender at the drop of a hat was far too difficult. One had to understand — these missionaries devoted their entire minds to proselytizing. If this so-called Jesus suddenly told him to betray the Great Ming, who could say the fellow wouldn't stab them in the back without a moment's hesitation?

As for the second one, this Shadegui, a Portuguese merchant — that was even more unacceptable. Just from seeing what sort of characters the Great Ming's own merchants were, one could tell that merchants of other nations wouldn't be any better.

These merchants were driven purely by profit. With their current disadvantage in power, under his threats and inducements they might easily submit to the Great Ming. But once the backyard caught fire and unfavorable news emerged, this fellow, like Jiemu, might directly raise the banner of returning to his homeland and jump ship — that was not impossible either.

Thinking this far, Wang Cheng'en glanced at Shen Yourong and said with slight impatience: "Stop stammering. Speak."

"To report to Your Excellency, the third person is the rector of St. Paul's College, Jiadalao. This man has been an old acquaintance of mine for some time. For fear that certain people at court might suspect me of colluding with foreign barbarians, I did not speak of him at length. I hope Your Excellency will forgive me." As Shen Yourong spoke, he seemed to be hinting at something.

"If you want to talk about the Donglin Faction, just say so directly. The current Son of Heaven is most perspicacious and will no longer listen to their self-deceiving slander." Keen as Wang Cheng'en was, he naturally caught the implication beneath Shen Yourong's words. After speaking with a cold laugh, he asked again:

"By the way, what exactly is this St. Paul's College?"

"To report to Your Excellency, over seventy years ago in Guangzhou, a foreigner called Peilaisi submitted a bilingual letter to the office of the Provincial Administration Commissioner, saying he wished to remain in Guangzhou to preach and could teach local scholars the Portuguese language."

"That's quite a novel affair. What did the Provincial Administration Commissioner do at the time? Do continue." Wang Cheng'en smiled and asked with considerable interest.

Shen Yourong continued: "After deliberation, the Provincial Administration Commissioner's office decided to reject the foreigner's request. It turned out this foreigner knew only Portuguese and did not know the Chinese language. How could such a man serve as a teacher to our dynasty's scholars?"

"Well done. Did this foreigner then return and establish this college?" Wang Cheng'en seemed to have guessed something.

"Your Excellency is truly clever. Your subordinate admires you." Shen Yourong first offered a subtle flattery, then continued: "This St. Paul's College specializes in teaching missionaries Chinese culture and language. One must obtain graduation qualifications from it before being permitted to go out and preach. During the Wanli reign, Emperor Shenzong granted imperial approval for it."

"People like Matteo Ricci, Johann Adam Schall von Bell, and Ferdinand Verbiest all came from this college, and even Xu Zixian once studied there."

"I see — a fine place indeed." Wang Cheng'en nodded, seeming lost in thought.

The next moment after saying this, Wang Cheng'en had no further questions. He let out a few cold, inscrutable laughs, rose, and said as he walked: "Then let me personally meet this rector."

"Allow your subordinate to see Your Excellency out." Shen Yourong said hurriedly.

Shen Yourong's Governor-General's yamen was in the southern part of the city, relatively close to the leased territory. Walking out from the yamen, in less than the time of two incense sticks, he came in sight of the leased territory's gate, surrounded by heavily armed soldiers.

The Macau leased territory's gate, which should ordinarily have been full of Portuguese guards, was now staffed entirely by soldiers clad in Great Ming standard-issue armor. Above, where the Portuguese flag once flew, the Great Ming's Black Bird banner now fluttered high — which carried more weight was clear at a glance.

"So it is His Excellency the Governor-General who has arrived. Forgive me for not coming out to welcome you properly. Please, follow me." The Mobile Corps Commander stationed to guard the leased territory's gate, having ascertained the visitor's identity, was startled at once. He quickly handed over his guard duties to a Company Commander and personally led a squad of soldiers to escort Wang Cheng'en to their destination.

Walking upon the ground of the leased territory, what Wang Cheng'en saw was a scene of tightly shut gates and imperial officials patrolling the streets. He asked at once: "General Qi, where have all the foreigners gone?"

"Your Excellency doesn't know yet." The Mobile Corps Commander surnamed Qi smiled and explained: "Since the court took over the leased territory, there have been no more Portuguese guards here. Governor-General Shen of Guangdong and Guangxi has already come to an agreement with the senate — from now on, patrol duties in the leased territory will be handled by the Guangzhou prefectural yamen, which has also established a branch office here. As for external defense, that is under my command with my troops."

"I see. Then General Qi must do well. Macau is no ordinary place. Do well, and I shall put in a good word for you before His Majesty in the future — wouldn't that see your position rise?"

"Your subordinate thanks Your Excellency for the patronage. This kindness I shall never forget!" The Mobile Corps Commander surnamed Qi was overcome with excitement, thanking him endlessly, nearly kneeling on the spot to kowtow to Wang Cheng'en.

"Think nothing of it. So long as you are loyal to His Majesty, it is only right that I should promote you." In this Mobile Corps Commander's eyes, Wang Cheng'en appeared exceptionally kind and approachable, entirely without the airs of a favored minister of the Son of Heaven or Director of the Eastern Depot.

Before long, having taken in the sight of the five large characters "St. Paul's College" — words brimming with the artistic conception of East-West cultural fusion — Wang Cheng'en stepped inside with curiosity.