Chapter 309: Sweet Port Turbulence — Internal Strife
The next morning, news of the fire at Monk Zou's Temple swept through town like wildfire itself. Crowds flocked to the ruins—now nothing but a pile of ash-blackened rubble—to gawk at the destruction. The blaze had started so suddenly and burned with such ferocity that everyone who witnessed it swore they had never seen anything like it. By the time the Hai'an Street Fire Brigade arrived under militia escort, the entire hall was already burning like a torch.
Those in the know attributed it to the excessive amount of firewood and vegetable oil piled beneath the gable walls. The thugs had gambled and drunk by lamplight every evening; carelessness with the lamps must have ignited the stockpile.
The destruction of Zhao Jijiao's gang elicited no sympathy. Many openly celebrated that the street was now rid of one pack of villains, declaring it divine retribution for their habitual cruelties.
However, anyone familiar with the open strife and covert maneuvering between South China Sugar and Third Master Zhu harbored deeper suspicions. This sudden, peculiar fire—from which not a single man in the room escaped—was indeed food for thought. The handful of thugs who had been fortunate enough to be elsewhere that night fled town the following day. Their noses were sharper than anyone's.
The yamen runners detained the temple sexton and the fire-tender Taoist from the rear courtyard, though this hardly indicated the county yamen considered the incident suspicious—it was purely routine extortion. Everyone in the temple insisted they had heard nothing unusual. With certain interested parties applying their influence, the sexton's wife easily negotiated a price with the head of the "Fast Squad" at the teahouse opposite the yamen, and the prisoners were released.
After a few days of buzzing gossip, the incident faded from public attention. Arson incidents targeting the factory ceased entirely. The sugar merchants who had previously refused to attend meetings were now secretly communicating with South China Sugar through Feng Guangfeng.
Their attitudes toward the new Leizhou Sugar Industry Guild had reversed completely. Where once there had been reluctance, now there was enthusiasm. Chang Shide found that "talking business" could now proceed much further. Chen Tianxiong seized the opportunity to lobby the merchants privately.
Zhu An sat iron-faced in the council hall of the Haiyi Guild, occupying the presiding seat as he always had. The twenty chairs flanking the hall were filled with the head shopkeepers of the various sugar firms, sitting stiffly upright.
This was the first Haiyi Guild meeting convened since Zhu An had announced he was "ill." The stated topic was the rebuilding of Monk Zou's Temple. But Third Master Zhu now found himself surrounded by enemies on all sides, his position crumbling: sugar refinery workers recruited away, the Gu family pirates annihilated, sugar merchants defecting, and Zhao Jijiao's entire gang inexplicably burned to death.
He had thought he held a handful of winning cards. Now his hand was empty. Third Master Zhu could not think of a single weapon remaining against South China Sugar. Open attacks and hidden arrows—he had deployed them all. South China Sugar stood unshaken; it had not only survived but had excavated his very foundations.
In his heart, he knew he had lost. But Third Master Zhu could not accept defeat—he had dominated the Leizhou sugar market for thirty years and had long since come to regard his every word and deed as the embodiment of authority. When that authority was suddenly stripped away, he could not accept it emotionally.
Under the pretext of rebuilding Monk Zou's Temple, he had convened this meeting of sugar merchants, attempting to leverage his accumulated prestige to make one final effort to salvage the situation.
The merchants had turned out in full—not a single absence. Even the "traitor" Feng Guangfeng was present. Seeing this outsider, Zhu An's eyes nearly spat fire. Though he knew perfectly well that Feng Guangfeng was merely a go-between, and that the true betrayers were the fellow townsmen he had considered most reliable, the bonds of native-place loyalty made him unconsciously direct his fury at this convenient outsider.
"He actually dares to come," he muttered.
His advisor, standing beside him, glanced uneasily at the assembled crowd. These men were either expressionless or entirely at ease; none displayed the slightest guilt or discomfort.
"Master, stay calm."
Zhu An nodded, steadied himself, and began.
"You are all aware that a few days ago, the Patriarch's temple caught fire. Although only the first courtyard was destroyed, the Haiyi Guild is naturally duty-bound to undertake the rebuilding—"
He paused deliberately, surveying the room for reactions. Finding none—the merchants behaved as though the matter was no concern of theirs—his heart sank.
"...I wonder what everyone thinks regarding this reconstruction effort?"
"The temple must naturally be rebuilt," someone interrupted. "But this is hardly an urgent matter."
The immediate contradiction caught Zhu An off guard. Furious, he identified the speaker: Wu Yi, owner of Baolai Firm—one of the smallest operations in the Haiyi Guild. This man had groveled and begged, finally offering ten thousand taels of silver to squeeze his way in. Baolai Firm had meager capital and carried little weight among the membership.
Zhu An suppressed his anger and replied coldly, "Oh? Then what does Shopkeeper Wu consider urgent?"
"Acquiring sugar!" Wu Yi jabbed relentlessly at Third Master Zhu's most sensitive wound. "The sugar season nears its end. Our warehouses remain empty. Without sugar, where will we find silver to repair the temple? Perhaps it would be better for Third Master Zhu to bear this expense alone!"
"Bastard!" Zhu An roared. When had he ever been mocked to his face by such a minor figure? "What are you? As I recall, you knelt on the ground begging just to earn the right to buy sugar!"
"Indeed, I'm no great personage." Wu Yi remained boldly defiant. "You, Third Master Zhu, are a man of consequence. Originally, you vowed to guarantee everyone sugar this season. And now? I, Wu Yi, groveled before everyone not to make money licking Third Master Zhu's boots!"
The words were nakedly crude, yet they perfectly captured the sentiment of the majority present: Third Master Zhu is finished.
"Old Wu, don't put it that way—" The portly owner of Riyuelai attempted to smooth things over, but couldn't think of anything to say.
"If not that way, then how?" Wu Yi had long since been bought by Chang Shide. He bowed elaborately to the assembled merchants. "Shopkeepers! Owners! We formed the Haiyi Guild to unite in acquiring sugar, did we not? Now that Zhu An has led the Guild to the point where no one can obtain any—I propose that Third Master Zhu can no longer serve as Guild Master!"
Zhu An kept his face impassive, projecting calm—even indifference. It was a practiced skill. Inside, his nerves were jangling. Wu Yi could never have conceived this performance himself; someone was backing him, and most of those present had probably agreed to it in advance. The realization alarmed him deeply.
What terrified him more was that the surrounding merchants showed no surprise whatsoever, confirming his suspicion. Veins pulsed visibly at his temples. He glared at this rapidly turned coat, wishing he could kick him to death.
"There is no longer any need for the Haiyi Guild to exist." Wu Yi continued his assault unchecked. "This guild has long since become the Zhu family's private property. Third Master Zhu! In the seventh year of Tianqi, the Haiyi Guild held nearly ten thousand taels in its public account. Why were there only a few hundred left by the second year of Chongzhen, requiring assessments from everyone? For these past two years, we've paid our dues in full—not a single tael short!"
Murmurs rippled through the assembly. Everyone knew that Zhu An controlled the Haiyi Guild, installed his own people, spent public funds at will, and collected extra fees under various pretexts. It had never been a secret. But his prestige and abilities had kept all mouths shut. Now that someone had raised the issue, whispers filled the hall. Those who had previously felt constrained by propriety found themselves muttering complaints.
Feng Guangfeng stood. "Shopkeeper Wu is absolutely right. There is no longer any need for the Haiyi Guild to exist."
The stirring among the merchants swelled to open clamor. After a moment, someone sighed. "It has to be this way."
"Yes, there's no other choice."
"Third Master Zhu has labored for half a lifetime. He should rest."
"But if the Haiyi Guild is dissolved, what will we do in the future?" They were already discussing the aftermath, treating the Guild's dissolution as a foregone conclusion and casting Third Master Zhu entirely aside.
Zhu An surged to his feet. "You despicable, shameless villains!" His voice thundered, drowning out all others. "Short-sighted, every one of you! The Haiyi Guild is where you settle and make your living—you are destroying your own foundation!" He roared, "Without my Haiyi Guild—"
"The Haiyi Guild isn't surnamed Zhu!" Feng Guangfeng cut him off loudly. "For years, this Guild has been the Zhu family's property—not ours!" He raised his voice further. "I propose we invite Manager Wen of South China Sugar to preside over the Haiyi Guild's affairs!"
Wu Yi immediately leapt to his feet. "Only Manager Wen can resolve the current situation!"
Others chimed in. Though some held their tongues, none voiced opposition.
"This is the Haiyi Guild!" Zhu An screamed, losing all composure. "I am the Guild Master!"
Wu Yi ignored him completely. "Please enter, Manager Wen!" he called toward the door.
Wen Tong and his companions, guarded by Zhou Shizhai, had secured a private room at a teahouse down the street, awaiting the summons. The group hummed tunes and sipped tea. Wen Tong couldn't help asking Chen Tianxiong:
"Is this scheme of yours really going to work? I'm afraid they won't understand half of what I say."
"It'll work." Chen Tianxiong smiled. "Most of them are from Guangdong. Just speak Cantonese."
"I just feel it's all a bit theatrical." Wen Tong muttered. "Couldn't we take over in a less... dramatic way?"
"Of course we could. But if you want to command the Sugar Industry Guild in the future, you need to make an entrance first. A little theater produces excellent results."
"Like this—"
Chen Tianxiong sensed his lack of confidence. "Relax. Zhou Shizhai and Li Biao will guard you closely. Chen Sigen and his team will go in with you. Beiwei's men are posted outside—he's even got sniper rifles on the rooftops..."
"No need." Wen Tong felt a sudden surge of bravado. "Just Zhou Shizhai with me is enough. After all, I'm one of the protagonists. I've got a halo protecting me."
"Right—turn up the 'Tyrant's Aura' a bit more. The Haiyi Guild will submit immediately."
Wen Tong nodded repeatedly and closed his eyes, apparently trying to accumulate said aura.
Chen Tianxiong smiled, drew out his walkie-talkie, and contacted Beiwei on the rooftop once more. Beiwei was observing movement in the Haiyi Guild courtyard, watching for any sudden moves by Third Master Zhu.
Reports from all positions indicated no activity. Shortly, the lookout by the window reported that a servant had emerged from the Haiyi Guild gate and was heading straight for the teahouse.
"The invitation has arrived. Old Wen, get ready. It's time."
Wen Tong nodded. Taking only Zhou Shizhai and Li Biao, he walked out into the street. Though it was merely fifty meters to the Guild hall, Wen Tong felt as if he were walking on clouds. Fear, anticipation, doubt, and confidence churned together; a peculiar, intoxicating pleasure enveloped him.
The main gate of the Haiyi Guild stood wide open. Ascending the steps, one could see straight into the hall with its windows thrown back. Wen Tong drew a deep breath and walked in with his head high.
Feng Guangfeng awaited him beneath the eaves, bowing with clasped hands. "Manager Wen, everyone has been waiting."
Liu Yulin, owner of Risheng Firm, was first to rise and bow. Then all the shopkeepers stood and bowed as one. Wen Tong moved through the hall, smiling, returning their courtesies.
"Shopkeepers, this is Manager Wen of South China Sugar—and the new Guild Master of the Sugar Industry Guild." Wu Yi announced it loudly.
Wen Tong completely ignored Zhu An, whose eyes blazed with murderous fury. Standing at the center of the hall, he bowed to the assembly.
"Shopkeepers and owners of the sugar firms—South China Sugar is deeply honored by your trust in selecting us to serve as Guild Master of the Sugar Industry Guild. We accept this as both a great honor and a solemn responsibility, and pledge to devote ourselves entirely to Leizhou's sugar industry until our dying day..." He glanced at Zhu An, and something shifted in him—this man no longer seemed frightening. If anything, he seemed pitiable. Zhu An still didn't understand what he was facing. If he truly knew, his fury would give way to terror.
"...Zhu An has betrayed your trust. For years he has controlled the Haiyi Guild, abused his power, appointed cronies, embezzled public funds, colluded with pirates, and harbored bandits..." Wen Tong enumerated twenty charges in a single breath, each well-documented, mobilizing years of accumulated grievances among the merchants and delivering a sense of profound satisfaction.
"You—you—" Zhu An could barely speak. The accusations were all true—yet his collusion with pirates and maintenance of bandits had been expedient measures to protect the entire Leizhou sugar industry. The lesser of evils. And everyone had benefited—for nearly twenty years, the sugar firms here had enjoyed peace precisely because of those expedients. Now they were counted among his crimes!
When they want to condemn you, they can always find a charge. Third Master Zhu's hands and feet went cold. His opponents possessed not merely abundant funds and overwhelming force—they were also first-rate practitioners of realpolitik.
Wen Tong spoke with gathering force. "...I urge Third Master Zhu to retreat honorably from the fray. Leave some room for future encounters, lest auditing the accounts make for an ugly scene!"
(End of Chapter)