Chapter 461 - Autumn Levy (Part 16)
The covert maneuvering of Chen Minggang and Huang Binkun finally reached its climax. Not only did the behind-the-scenes scheming intensify—violence at last erupted. One grain household, unable to bear the repeated harassment and extortion from the grain runners, finally drove them out by force.
Violent incidents occurred every year during grain collection, of course. Sometimes the runners beat people; sometimes they got beaten. It was nothing remarkable. When Chen Minggang heard that one of his men had been struck, he was secretly pleased—violent resistance to the levy was an excellent charge. In the past, the county had not dared offend these people. Now the Australians would not tolerate such behavior.
He immediately ordered that everything this household had already paid be struck from the books and recorded as having paid neither base levy nor tribute rice—an outstanding debt.
During these ten-odd days, the wealthier a person was, the more anxious and unsettled they became. Rumors flew that Chen Minggang had colluded with the Baldies and was preparing to make examples of several major households. Others claimed he was "falsely transmitting imperial edicts." True and false information swirled everywhere, impossible to distinguish.
Not knowing how negotiations would turn out, the major households made tense preparations. Some hid their valuables; some sent away their womenfolk and children; others reinforced their village walls. To win hearts and loyalty, quite a few landowners forgave or reduced their tenants' rent and gave raises to their hired hands and household servants.
Some families even abandoned their own residences, moving into the more defensible strongholds of relatives and friends. The tension gradually reached a peak.
Based on reports from all sides, Wu De knew that Huang Binkun had finished collecting signatures for the joint petition and was preparing to present it formally at the Management Building in the East Gate Market in three days. Local natives could not enter Bairren City, and to them, the Management Building—with its imposing signboard and "police" standing guard at the entrance—was the "yamen." The place did serve certain yamen-like functions: dispute mediation, land leasing arrangements, and arrests.
As for Chen Minggang's gang, they too had made their preparations. Following Chen Minggang's instructions, three men had been found within the county to serve as scapegoats. The agreement was: three hundred taels apiece if the Australians wanted them dead; if they were sent to the labor-reform team instead, five taels of silver for every month served inside. Family members would receive thirty taels as a settlement payment.
In case the Australians saw through this ruse and the major households refused to let the matter rest, insisting that he surrender key subordinates, Chen Minggang had that figured out too: he would hand over Zhou Qi. Given Zhou Qi's status as his senior apprentice, that would be enough to satisfy everyone. He was tired of this apprentice anyway—not only because of Zhou Qi's machinations behind his back, but also because of the widespread rumors about Zhou Qi and Qiuhong.
As they say, rumors can kill. What had originally been pure fabrication—Chen Minggang knew there was nothing between those two—had been repeated so often and so vividly that it seemed to take on a life of its own, causing him to lose face.
Zhou Qi, meanwhile, appeared to be working quite hard, going to the countryside every day and staying for days at a time. But each time he returned, his expression was troubled. He did not even dare face Chen Minggang—probably because things were not going well.
"Utterly useless," Chen Minggang cursed silently. Probably this good-for-nothing apprentice had pocketed so much money from people that now, when he tried to squeeze them again, he could not bring himself to open his mouth. Thinking of this only strengthened his conviction that throwing Zhou Qi out as a scapegoat was the right decision.
The day to present the petition finally arrived. Huang Binkun and Li Xiaopeng had originally planned to mobilize the students from the county school and the Jasmine Pavilion Academy to submit the petition together. But Wang Ci talked them out of it—he felt the matter should not be made too large.
"Binkun, you and Master Liu and a few others going together will suffice. If too many people go, with too many mouths, someone might say something inappropriate. If the Australians lose their temper, it'll be impossible to accomplish anything."
"We need to show them the backbone of Lingao's scholars..."
"Binkun!" Wang Ci cut off his rhetoric. "Don't let your emotions rule! The Australians hold the weapons and are foreigners beyond civilization. It's remarkable that they now show some inclination toward enlightenment. We can only work on them gradually. If you go storming in with a crowd of students causing a scene, and they take offense—lives cannot be brought back!"
Huang Binkun calmed himself and reconsidered. Wang Ci's words made sense. He softened his tone. "Sir, your instruction is correct."
"This matter is rare in having Master Liu willing to come forward to uphold justice. You need only accompany him with Xiaopeng and a few others. The Australians have great respect for Master Liu. With him taking the lead, matters can certainly take a turn for the better."
Huang Binkun agreed deferentially. In his view, the Australians were insatiably greedy. With Liu Dalin stepping forward, they would probably just go through the motions, making token concessions. Their extractive nature would not change.
From his years of experience following his father in bandit suppression, Huang Binkun knew the root of any problem—whether bandits or pirates—was grain. Large groups of assembled men without grain would fall into chaos. The Baldies would be no exception. Now that they controlled Lingao, they would not pass up an opportunity to collect massive quantities of grain.
But this was also fine, Huang Binkun thought. It would force the major households who had been harboring illusions to firm up their stance. Whatever came next would be much easier.
Early the next morning, Huang Binkun and Li Xiaopeng, along with several friends, servants, and hangers-on, arrived at Liu Dalin's residence on the west side of the county seat. The place was already full of relatives and friends who had fled from the countryside seeking help. Hearing that Liu Dalin was going to personally negotiate with the Australians about the autumn levy, everyone had risen early and gathered under the eaves to see him off.
Liu Dalin emerged from the house impeccably dressed, capped and robed, pushed out in his wheelchair by a servant. Seeing his expression of righteous indignation, everyone praised him: truly a man of lofty virtue.
Huang Binkun and the others paid their respects, then began pushing the wheelchair toward the gate. The relatives, friends, and servants gathered under the eaves all watched, bowing repeatedly as he passed.
Sitting in his wheelchair, Liu Dalin surveyed the scene before him and felt a surge of stirring emotion—then silently chided himself for his foolish imaginings. He wanted to say something but could not think of anything appropriate. He could only cup his hands and return their salutes.
Outside the gate, a bamboo-and-rattan sedan chair had been prepared. Several people helped him into the chair. Huang Binkun and the others neither rode in chairs nor on horseback but walked alongside on foot.
The county yamen, meanwhile, kept its main gate tightly shut. During the busy farming season, the yamen traditionally suspended hearing petitions. The grain collection and land survey business was far too thorny. Fortunately, neither Liu Dalin nor Huang Binkun had come to the county yamen. Gentry versus Australians—the yamen could not afford to offend either side. Better to play deaf and dumb.
"What if something really blows up?" Wu Mingjin harbored a small worry. If there was a "grain riot" during collection, his career would be finished.
A so-called grain riot meant widespread refusal by the county's grain households to pay their levies. This was of course a serious offense against imperial law, but the county magistrate bore heavy responsibility too—dismissal from office was certain.
Wang Zhaomin, however, was quite confident. He smiled knowingly. "Your Excellency! If you're afraid of trouble, don't you think the Australians are too?"
Wu Mingjin nodded slightly, quite impressed by this secretary.
"Just wait and watch," Wang Zhaomin added mysteriously. For him and the magistrate, doing nothing was the best choice.
Liu Dalin's sedan chair arrived at the Management Building in the East Gate Market. He sent in his visiting card. Dugu Qiuhun and Xiong Buyou had been waiting inside for some time. They had received Wu De's instructions to receive the "petitioners"—and to do so "with every courtesy."
"We're supposed to show every courtesy to a landlord element?" Dugu Qiuhun said with displeasure.
"Who told him to be the only jinshi? We still plan to make use of him." Xiong Buyou rose, straightened his clothes, and together with Dugu Qiuhun went out to greet them.
Liu Dalin was visiting an Australian establishment for the first time—and the Australian yamen at that. He gazed about with great curiosity. It was a two-story red brick building, perfectly square and regular. The windows were tall and narrow, fitted with gleaming glass...
"Too extravagant," Liu Dalin said, shaking his head. He saw that the front door had a semicircular top and was quite tall. On either side stood a black-uniformed officer wearing a rattan hat—the so-called "police." He had heard they were all local natives.
Through the doorway came two men, one tall and one short, one plump and one thin—a comical contrast. Both wore blue cotton jackets with four pockets, hatless, their hair cropped like monks. On their feet were canvas shoes with string laces. From head to toe, there was not a stitch of silk or satin, not a single ornament.
Liu Dalin was quite surprised to see how simply the Australian leaders dressed. From what he had heard, the Australians were skilled at making money and manufactured all manner of cunning and ingenious wares; they must have accumulated considerable wealth. Looking at everything they did—building roads and bridges, establishing schools, constructing great ships—each required the expenditure of enormous sums. Yet in personal consumption they practiced such austerity! A measure of respect stirred in his heart.
Xiong Buyou came forward to greet him. After a few pleasantries, he immediately escorted Liu Dalin and his party upstairs to the reception room.
Upon entering the reception room, Liu Dalin nearly laughed out loud. These Australians, for all their abilities, were truly uncouth. The room was large, its walls painted snow-white, the floor made of fine wood. Autumn sunlight streamed through the glass windows—extremely bright. But the furnishings and decor were utterly haphazard.
The walls were covered like a painting vendor's stall—scroll after scroll of paintings and calligraphy, densely hung everywhere. There were central hanging scrolls, couplet pairs, screen paintings, even a few fan paintings. Landscapes, flowers-and-birds, fine brushwork, freehand, splashed ink, blue-and-green... every style imaginable, hung completely at random. Among them were even a few obvious Suzhou forgeries.
In the corners stood several large vases, haphazardly equipped with feather dusters—these vases, over half the height of a man, had no industrial use. Nobody wanted them for decoration, but destroying them seemed a waste, so they had been relegated here for this purpose.
Clearly, the Australians' discernment was deplorable. Calling them nouveaux riches would be flattering them. Liu Dalin shook his head inwardly. Even the county's rustic landlords had better taste than these people.
(End of Chapter)