Chapter 690 - Forcing Peace through War
Finally, at the letter's conclusion, LĂĽ Yizhong wrote that if peace talks were agreed to, a mission would depart from Lingao within days. As for the negotiation venue, it could be set in Macao. Should Guangdong wish to respond, the Jesuits there could serve as intermediaries.
"In this humble official's opinion, negotiation and pacification are currently our only option," Li Xijue said cautiously.
Unable to suppress the revolt, the only choice was to pay an indemnity. Wang Zunde's heart was shrouded in pain. He knew full well that the task of managing this pacification would likely not fall to him. Moreover, the Emperor might not permit a peace offering.
Neither able to suppress nor pacify—he could not even speak of viable countermeasures. This feeling of powerlessness enveloped him, and he remained silent for a long time. He started only when Li Xijue quietly reminded him that a memorial to the Emperor was required.
Such a massive defeat could not be concealed, no matter what. Once others submitted their memorials, he would lose the initiative entirely. Li Xijue could only advise his patron that this matter demanded immediate action; delay was impermissible.
Wang Zunde nodded. Though he could not fathom how to write such a memorial, Li Xijue's counsel was entirely correct.
A sense of mental exhaustion clouded his mind. He simply nodded and said, "As you say, sir," then waved weakly for Li Xijue to leave.
"About Secretary Lü's letter—"
"We shall discuss it another day."
After departing, Li Xijue gathered the other staff members for consultation. All agreed the memorial must be drafted first and submitted to the court as soon as possible—to leave themselves at least some room to maneuver. A staff member who specialized in drafting memorials was assigned immediately to work through the night. Meanwhile, messengers were dispatched to Guangzhou city to discuss aftermath arrangements with Governor Li Fengjie and others.
As for peace negotiations, Li Xijue lacked the authority to make such decisions independently, and LĂĽ Yizhong's letter could not be leaked. He merely sent someone secretly to Macao to see if the Australians would meet there for further discussions.
The most pressing issue was He Rubin's remnant forces, currently trapped in Haikou: several thousand troops encircled in the Haikou and Qiongshan area, with no provisions inside and no reinforcements coming—their communications completely severed. Under siege by the bald bandit army, it was likely only a matter of time before the entire force was annihilated.
The number of commissioned officers killed at Chengmai was already shocking. If He Rubin were also killed or captured, the impact would shake court and public even more than the army's catastrophic defeat—comparable to the defeat and death of Lu Qin in the sixth year of the Tianqi reign. That would truly convulse all of Guangdong and Guangxi.
Li Xijue pondered during the staff meeting: "If only we could safely extract Commander He and the others."
"With the strait blockaded and our navy outmatched, how can they possibly cross?" A staff member shook his head repeatedly.
The bald bandit navy had demonstrated its superiority in small-scale engagements while blockading the Qiongzhou Strait; the Guangdong navy was powerless to contend with them.
"We must first send spies to infiltrate Qiongzhou and establish contact with Commander He. At minimum, we need intelligence on troop numbers, morale, and supply status."
"What good does that knowledge do? Unless we quickly pacify the bald bandits, I fear Commander He's forces..."
"Should we report to the Governor-General and have him summon Regional Commander Chen to Zhaoqing for consultation? Perhaps more troops can be gathered for a rescue operation?"
Chen Ting was the Guangdong Vice Regional Commander, stationed at Nan'ao. Though nominally a "Vice Regional Commander," he was not actually subordinate to He Rubin—he was a high-ranking military officer independently guarding his own region.
"He has so few troops. What use would they be?" Li Xijue held no hope for any military solution. Since twenty thousand government soldiers had failed to take Lingao and suffered devastating defeat, a mere few thousand would fare no better.
Silence filled the heated pavilion. The staff and adjutants of the Governor-General's yamen exchanged glances. After exhaustive deliberation, they could devise no plan beyond "pacification."
In the operations room of the Navy Command Building at Bopu, Chief of Naval Operations Chen Haiyang convened a staff meeting before a wall-mounted chart of Guangdong and Hainan.
Attending were the Navy's staff team and several transmigrator officers. Two non-naval transmigrators also sat in as observers. One was Naval Advisor Wen Desi—as an authority on Age of Sail navies and shipbuilding, his opinions carried substantial weight. The other was Xu Ke from the Intelligence Bureau, currently holding the title of Naval Intelligence Staff Officer, specifically responsible for collecting and organizing naval military intelligence. According to Xu Ke himself, however, he was merely a "do-anything handyman" at the External Intelligence Bureau.
This somewhat unprofessional staff team highlighted the Navy's struggles with professionalization. Transmigrators with naval service were even scarcer than those with army experience, and absolutely none had served as staff officers. This meant most staff work fell upon the shoulders of the two highest naval authorities: the People's Commissar of the Navy and the Chief of Naval Operations, both of whom came from regular naval officer backgrounds. As for Li Di—the naval officer who could no longer go to sea—he had been serving as Fortress Commander and Harbor Master. Now Chen Haiyang had simply appointed him Chief of Staff to learn the trade.
Li Di's academic performance in staff work, it must be said, remained at the beginner's failing level—an amateur naval officer with little understanding of basic naval operations had far too many lessons to make up before becoming a professional staff officer.
The Navy had already undertaken the mission of blockading the Qiongzhou Strait. Strictly speaking, this was not a true blockade of the strait—the Navy actually only sealed off government-controlled ports in Qiongshan County, such as Shenying Harbor, to prevent the government remnants from receiving reinforcements. Other vessels transiting the strait were ignored.
Any ship entering or leaving these ports was seized and escorted to Manyan for processing. All cargo vessels attempting to move goods through Qiongshan ports were confiscated. If confirmed to be a civilian ship commandeered by the government, owners could redeem their vessels at a reduced price.
This blockade proved devastating to Qiongshan's material circulation. True, the Fubogun did not blockade ports in Wenchang and other areas still under government control, but those ports were of no help to Qiongshan—bulk cargo transport across Hainan's prefectures and counties relied almost entirely on coastal shipping. Given the miserable state of the post roads, long-distance overland transport was virtually impossible.
Observing that the blockading bald bandit warships were mostly small and medium-sized vessels—and not numerous—Tang Yunwen had attempted several times to break the blockade at sea. Each effort ended in crushing defeat. The Navy's ships were incomparable to the Ming navy's medieval-level forces in both equipment and training. Finally, the naval vessels retreated entirely into Baisha Naval Camp and ceased all sorties.
Thus, Qiongshan found itself effectively under siege. Though the city itself did not lack stored grain, and the summer harvest would soon come to market, the despair of complete isolation from the outside world sent morale among the trapped government troops plummeting further.
The maritime blockade had achieved its preliminary objective. But the Executive Committee believed the state of war could not continue indefinitely and must be concluded as swiftly as possible—the economic impact was too severe. Foreign trade had stagnated. Previously, substantial quantities of materials, labor, and capital flowed in monthly from the Guangzhou Station network. Now, apart from small amounts of population and materials still arriving from Foshan, Leizhou, and other locations, this channel was essentially cut off.
The losses extended beyond transport to the commercial network itself. Until the situation clarified, mainland trading partners were too terrified to continue distributing "Australian goods." As a result, exporting goods to Lingao had also become a potentially high-risk enterprise—and therefore expensive.
Originally, the Executive Committee had planned to wait for Xiong Wencan to arrive and initiate pacification, with both sides then holding peace talks. However, it appeared Old Xiong's appointment remained some way off—according to historical progression, he would not assume the post of Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi until the fifth year of the Chongzhen reign. The transmigrators could not afford to wait. They resolved to launch "peace work" as soon as possible to end the state of war between both sides—or at minimum, restore the circulation of goods.
Though many transmigrators doubted how Wang Zunde or Li Fengjie planned to deceive their superiors to conceal this catastrophic rout while simultaneously suing for peace, the Executive Committee considered that their business—unrelated to the Yuan Laoyuan—provided they possessed the willingness to negotiate.
The Executive Committee had held a secret meeting regarding post-war developments. Approximately thirty transmigrators gathered to discuss and predict how the situation might evolve. The consensus held that Guangdong officialdom launching another attack was extremely unlikely—but they needed to guard against the other side potentially adopting a stance of "neither fighting nor making peace, neither surrendering nor leaving."
"During the Opium War, after realizing military force could not contend with the British at all, Qing local officials dared not sue for peace privately, nor were they willing to throw away their lives in battle," Yu Eishui warned at the meeting. "So they adopted such turtle tactics. If the Guangdong government employs similar methods, the threat to us would be considerable."
Under such circumstances, the transmigrator group would have no option but to follow the British example: continuously expanding the scale of war until forcing the Emperor himself to decide on peace. However, the transmigrator group's war potential and war machine could not be mentioned in the same breath as Britain in 1840. The final straw that broke Daoguang's resistance—bringing troops to Nanjing's walls and severing the grain transport—required long-range power projection capabilities the Navy simply did not possess.
"Additionally, we must consider that Qiongzhou itself is too remote—not a critical location on the Ming map. Its loss for five or six years would not be particularly devastating to a Ming regime already putting out fires on all sides. They can afford to leave it alone for now. For us, this means being trapped in a prolonged state of war—even without active armed conflict."
Therefore, the meeting's keynote was to exploit the chaos in Guangdong officialdom and spread the flames of war directly to the foot of Guangzhou, the richest city in South China, forcing the officials to sue for peace before the situation deteriorated further. Since Qiongzhou Prefecture was merely a borderland, invading the Pearl River Delta should sufficiently shock officials throughout Guangdong. At minimum, Li Fengjie would be unable to sit still. And once he could not sit still, he would have no choice but to negotiate.