Chapter 1094: Schall von Bell's Letter (5)

... Yet the moment the liquor touched my lips, I discovered it was utterly unlike anything I had drunk in Germany or Italy — dear God, it was far too strong! My tongue burned fiercely, and I nearly spat it out at once. It took tremendous effort to hold it in, until my cheeks puffed out and my face flushed bright red.

My other colleagues fared even worse than I did; some of them spat it out immediately. Our wretched state seemed to amuse the patrolmen greatly, and they all burst out laughing.

Only afterward did we receive an explanation: this liquor, it turned out, was one of Zhao Jin's products — in fact, one of the very first he ever dealt in. Its flavor was intensely potent, with an unforgettable, distinctive character, and it was a wildly popular commodity throughout the northern provinces of the Ming Empire.

Zhao Jin had also designated this liquor as a critical military supply: it could warm soldiers and lift their spirits in the cold, and in the event of injury, it could also serve as a disinfectant.

By this point, my fascination with this young man had grown so deep that I had almost forgotten my original destination was the Ming Empire's capital.

What kind of man was this young man, who ran a colossal enterprise and commanded a battle-hardened army of his own? And what thoughts occupied his mind?

Yet one thing was beyond all doubt — in terms of power, though no one had ever said so openly, he could already stand comparison with the Prince-Electors of Germany. If a powerful figure of such magnitude were to support our missionary work, it would be an immense boon to our mission, perhaps even a decisive one. If I could even bring him into the faith, what would I have left to worry about?

This notion of mine, I do not consider it overly optimistic or naive. Consider: Zhao Jin, through his incomparable achievements, has already proven himself a man at odds with tradition, a man who dares to defy convention and display his own original accomplishments. Such a man ought to be bold enough to embrace ideas that are even more different. If we can put on a sufficiently impressive showing and make him see that heeding our counsel is to his advantage, then without doubt, winning his support is entirely possible.

From that moment on, almost without realizing it, I had already made "winning Zhao Jin's support for our mission" one of my chief purposes in coming to China. My interest in Zhao Jin had grown even greater than my interest in the Ming Emperor secluded deep within his palace.

I had originally assumed these patrolmen would escort me into the city of Xuzhou, and from my observations, that was indeed the direction they initially took us. However, just as we were nearing Xuzhou, a messenger sent from within the city found us and relayed certain instructions to the patrol captain.

Though I had no idea what exactly was said, from that point on, the patrol captain abruptly altered our route and led us in a completely different direction. Our cannon was taken over directly by the men the messenger had brought with him and hauled off in the direction we were now to travel. Clearly, the messenger had brought the city's decision regarding our disposition — they were far more interested in the cannon, and the master of Xuzhou had no desire to meet us just yet.

As a result, we could only pass by Xuzhou with regret, unable to fulfill our wish of seeing Zhao Jin at once.

I was greatly perplexed by this outcome and kept pressing the patrol captain with questions, hoping to glean some information from him and understand our situation. Yet, perhaps because the messenger had brought a different set of admonitions, the patrol captain's attitude toward us suddenly turned far more brusque. He did not answer my questions, merely replying with a cold expression and telling me he could not disclose the specifics — I would find out for myself when the time came. This attitude, without doubt, served as yet another stark reminder: no matter how scrupulously the people here observed propriety, I was, in the end, still nothing more than a prisoner here, with no real freedom of movement.

At this thought, I could not help but grow despondent over my uncertain fate. Fortunately, the Lord was still in my heart, which allowed me to feel considerably lighter. After all, how much worse could it be than the journey I had already endured?

Before long, the patrol captain brought us to a region hidden deep within the forest. There, among the trees, we saw a long enclosing wall. The wall was very tall and had been painted black, giving it an ominous air. Only the faint sounds drifting out from within slightly eased our unease.

At that moment, a group of men with grave expressions and powerful, sturdy builds approached us. The patrol captain greeted them with a face full of smiles and chatted with them for a while.

Once the conversation was over, he handed us over to them and bade us a friendly farewell. Clearly, this was our destination.

Judging by the stern expressions of the men receiving us, I had originally assumed this was the prison of Xuzhou and had mentally prepared myself for the possibility of a long incarceration. But once I was brought inside, I discovered that my conjecture had been entirely wrong.

The moment we stepped through the main gate, a blast of hot air hit us full in the face, invigorating our bodies after we had marched so long in the freezing wind. We then found that inside this enclosing wall was actually a vast, open square.

The square was perhaps a grassy field in ordinary times, but now, due to the season, it was a stretch of withered yellow, the terrain perfectly flat and affording us an extremely broad view. At the edges of this square stood rows of brick-and-stone buildings. They appeared somewhat blackened, perhaps from smoke, but it was clear they had not been built very long ago.

These buildings were all abuzz with voices, and people were constantly bustling in and out of them.

We quickly realized that all these buildings were workshops, and the people going in and out were all craftsmen.

The workshops gathered in this area were even more numerous than the ones we had seen along the road earlier. From a distance, there might have been over a thousand people. The craftsmen, like a colony of ants, labored busily and methodically in each workshop. Meanwhile, some powerfully built laborers pushed handcarts, continuously delivering raw materials into the various workshops.

What on earth was going on? What was this place? Why had Zhao Jin concentrated so many workshops in this hidden location?

The unease in my heart had vanished, replaced entirely by boundless curiosity. I wanted to go into those workshops and see what exactly they were making, and why it had to be shrouded in such secrecy. But the men escorting us were clearly very strict; they forbade us from making any other moves and forcibly marched us deeper inside.

Under their escort, we arrived at a large building. The interior was very clean and tidy. The furnishings, though not luxurious, were all quite sturdy, and the space was divided into many small compartments. They then informed us that this was our dormitory.

This truly delighted me beyond expectation. I had originally thought that being brought here would mean living the life of a prisoner, but seeing the treatment we were now receiving put my heart considerably at ease — at least in terms of living conditions, we would fare better than those poor prisoners.

Then, they asked who among us was the leader, saying that someone wished to interrogate us.

Considering the risks involved, we conferred for a while and ultimately decided that I should undergo the interrogation. Seeing how much my colleagues trusted me, I could not help but feel deeply honored.

After a brief rest and settling in, I was escorted out of the dormitory and brought to another large building.

This large building contained no workshops, nor was it packed with craftsmen. Judging by the furnishings, it appeared to be someone's office. At the time, I guessed that anyone who could have such a large office space here must be a very important person — perhaps even the person in charge of this place.

After the men escorting us brought us here, they sternly told us that someone would soon come to interrogate us. They demanded that we be honest and hold nothing back. I hastily agreed to their demands, for in truth, I had nothing to hide.

Soon, my interrogator arrived.

When I saw clearly who had come to interrogate me, I was truly taken aback once again.

Yes, I had thought that the surprises I had encountered along the way could not possibly be surpassed, yet I still could not help but be astonished.

Because this interrogator's features were, in every respect, the features of a European. His face was long and slender, his forehead broad and slightly lined — he was clearly no longer young. His expression was extremely severe, his face taut, and one could see he was a man of firm resolve. His nose was high and straight, and his eyes were a grayish blue, glinting with a shrewd light as he regarded me coldly.

What astonished me even more was that this man was actually dressed in the garb of a clergyman!

Good heavens, I had never before heard of any missionary who had already reached Zhao Jin's side!

Is this man a fellow brother of the faith? If so, my work will become much easier to carry out — so I thought at the time.

While I was still immersed in this astonishment, the man suddenly spoke.

"May I ask what country you are from?" the clergyman-garbed man asked me in fluent Latin.

Then he switched to French, equally proficient. "Tell me which language you speak — I believe we need to have a proper talk."

"I can use several languages, but it would be best if we used Latin, Your Excellency — if you hold holy orders." Suppressing my curiosity, I replied in equally fluent Latin.

"Very well." Seeing me so compliant, the man nodded.

However, though his tone had softened somewhat, he still did not seem particularly friendly toward me..

Qidian and Chuangshi's monthly ticket rankings have merged — the competition is going to be brutal from now on; basically no chance left for this old author.

Thanks to old friends "Mu Ming, Yuan Heng Li Zhen, jiackiee, Windless Summer" for the tips, and thanks to everyone for your subscriptions and monthly tickets — thank you all for your support.