Chapter 847 - Reunion
Lü Yizhong's quarters occupied a quiet courtyard along the western wing of the Huifu Street compound—a space originally reserved for distinguished visitors from distant lands. Beyond the main hall stretched the east and west wings, and though his rooms were comfortably appointed with servants attending his every need, he could not leave. The courtyard had become his gilded cage, the view from his windows reduced to a modest garden of ornamental trees and flowers.
His spirits were bleak. For a man who had long since abandoned all hope of seeing the mainland again, the unexpected chance to return to Guangzhou should have been cause for celebration. Most of the strategists captured during the Chengmai campaign had been ransomed after the peace agreement—all except a handful of impoverished scholars from other provinces who lacked relatives or connections in Guangdong to redeem them. The prisoner camp had emptied almost entirely. Yet Lü Yizhong had never dared write home requesting ransom money. Only when his wife, growing anxious as others returned one after another while her husband remained silent, dispatched a trusted household servant with silver to Hainan to search for him did she finally receive news.
He could not bring himself to return. During his interrogation, he had told his captors everything he knew about Guangdong's officials and military—a transgression not in itself unusual, for nearly every captive had confessed what they knew. But Lü Yizhong had gone further. Driven by cowardice and a craven desire to ingratiate himself with the transmigrators, he had not merely written letters urging the Governor-General to pursue peace negotiations; he had said things during questioning that should never have been spoken aloud. If he returned home now, the slightest whisper of this betrayal would destroy him. Even if the court chose not to punish him, he would become a pariah among the literati—reviled as a traitor by all who had once been his peers.
The Governor-General was gone, and with him Lü Yizhong's greatest patron in official circles. As for the disaster in Qiongzhou, should the court decide to assign blame, Lü Yizhong made a perfect scapegoat—the charges practically wrote themselves. Without his protector, the officers who had fled the debacle could fabricate whatever accusations they pleased against him.
The transmigrators, for their part, had shown no intention of releasing him. Though they permitted his family to send silver and provisions, they never mentioned letting him go home. Even the household servants his wife had sent to attend him had been turned away at the gates.
And now, one of the Australian Elders had "spoken" with him, commanding him to accompany Guo Yi back to Guangzhou and serve their interests henceforth. Lü Yizhong dared not refuse. He understood all too well what materials the Australians held in their possession. If those documents were released, his reputation would be instantly annihilated—court investigation or not. For a man whose entire livelihood depended on his standing and credentials as a literatus, such ruin was terrifying. Especially for someone who had attained the tongshi degree and served twice as a prefect! At best, society would call him "shameless"; at worst, "traitor to imperial favor."
So he had obediently followed Guo Yi, slipping quietly back to Guangzhou to serve as the man's strategist—or more precisely, as the liaison between the Guangzhou Station and the government authorities. Before their departure, the Australians had made it clear that the Guangdong government would not pursue his case. As long as he faithfully served as their intermediary, neither side would trouble him.
"...But if you get any strange ideas," the transmigrator who briefed him had warned with naked directness, "not only will we refuse to protect you—even His Excellency the Governor-General would probably be displeased to see you resurface."
"Yes, yes, this humble one understands!" LĂĽ Yizhong had nodded rapidly. "This humble one is absolutely loyal! Heaven and Earth bear witness!"
The Australians provided him with clothing and luggage and returned all the silver and goods his wife had sent. His attendants, however, were all assigned by the Australians themselves. Gripped by fear and melancholy, LĂĽ Yizhong embarked on his journey back to Guangzhou.
Aboard the boat, Guo Yi treated him with reasonable courtesy—occasionally sending over fruit, sometimes inviting him to dine or take tea together. Looking at this young man from overseas, Lü Yizhong could not help but remember how just last year their positions had been reversed: Guo Yi had been the one who was nervous and deferential, currying favor with flattering smiles and generous gifts just to obtain a few words or a casually scrawled note of recommendation. Now Guo Yi was his master, and it was Lü Yizhong who wore the sycophant's smile. The feeling was profoundly depressing. Yet with decades of experience navigating official circles, such wounded pride was easily self-repaired. What truly worried him was his own future.
His official career was finished. Originally, after serving a few years as strategist under Governor Wang, he might have been recommended for a provincial office—perhaps a prefectural appointment in the prosperous regions of Guangdong and Guangxi. A few terms in such positions would have secured adequate provisions for his old age and his descendants. But now that path was utterly closed to him.
Finding another position as a strategist elsewhere was equally impossible. Rumors were already circulating that the real architects of Governor Wang's reckless military expedition—the debacle in Qiongzhou—had been his coterie of strategists, who had urged the Governor-General to mobilize troops to advance their own glory. This narrative had not even required fabrication by the Australians' intelligence department; plenty of officials in Guangdong were eager to shift blame. With the Governor-General gone, his now-powerless strategists made perfect scapegoats.
Thus the original cohort of strategists from the Governor-General's staff had all slunk away in disgrace. A fortunate few found shelter with other officials; most scattered and fled Guangdong entirely. LĂĽ Yizhong, as one of the Governor-General's confidants who had also "fallen into enemy hands," would certainly never be sought out for counsel again.
"The saying goes, 'Starvation is a small thing, but losing one's integrity is a great matter'—how true!" Lü Yizhong spoke these words with profound bitterness. Having already forfeited his integrity, only two paths remained: suicide, or—if he chose life and still wished to live well—to "sell out" entirely. Thinking thus, as if burning his boats and bridges behind him, he finally felt a measure of peace.
"Even if one day the transmigrators can no longer hold Guangzhou, they can certainly still hold onto the island of Qiongzhou. At worst, I'll move my entire family south and spend my remaining years on the island!"
LĂĽ Yizhong had witnessed firsthand Lingao's current standard of living and prosperity. If he absolutely had to spend his final years there, it would hardly be a terrible fate.
Upon arriving in Guangzhou, Guo Yi assigned him no immediate tasks. He was simply told to write a letter home reassuring his family of his safety, then rest at the Huifu Street compound. After that, for several days, there was no summons. In his idleness, despite having resolved to sell his loyalty, paranoia crept in. Perhaps the Australians had no intention of using him after all. This thought weighed heavily on his spirits.
Just as boredom was settling into despair, a call came from the doorway:
"Master!"
The visitor was the manservant the Australians had assigned to attend him. LĂĽ Yizhong knew the man was almost certainly a spy placed at his side. He asked: "What is it?"
"Master Guo instructed this servant to deliver these. He says please review them over the next two days. Also, he wishes to invite the Master to go out and pay calls together tomorrow. Please make preparations."
What the servant brought included the newly published Directory of Officials from the bookshops, copied dibao—the official court gazette—from the prefectural offices, and copies of various memorials collected from different sources. Lü Yizhong leafed through them. Memorials from the major officials of Guangdong and Guangxi had almost all been transcribed, dated within the past few months.
He understood immediately: this was so he could grasp the basic state of affairs in Guangdong and at court, to serve as Guo Yi's informed consultant. It seemed the Australians might yet make use of him after all. At this thought, his formerly gloomy mood lifted somewhat.
The next day, Guo Yi and LĂĽ Yizhong changed into two inconspicuous small sedan chairs and proceeded to Lotus Retreat on Henan Island. This was the same location where Gao Ju had previously negotiated peace terms with the naval Pearl River Detachment on behalf of Li Fengjie. Guo Yi was here to meet with Li Xijue and discuss post-war matters.
Li Xijue had originally been part of the Governor-General's staff. Though quite capable, he had been recommended to participate in important affairs without ever being fully trusted. When Li Fengjie assigned him to handle "Australian affairs," it was essentially passing him a scorching hot potato. Throughout Guangdong officialdom, one could find people experienced in dealing with the Red-Haired foreigners and the Portuguese—but not a single soul who knew how to handle "Australian affairs."
As the official point of contact with the Australians, Li Xijue's first order of business was "compensation and reparations." Though not an official himself, he was still Li Fengjie's chief strategist. Despite everyone being well aware of his role, too much open contact with the Guangzhou Station remained inadvisable.
Li Xijue did not fully understand what agreement his master had reached with the Australians, but even the little he knew would be enough to brand someone a "traitor." He had to be especially careful. For safety's sake, both parties had agreed to meet at Lotus Retreat on Henan Island—close to the city yet relatively secluded.
It was here that Li Xijue and Lü Yizhong found themselves reunited. Both felt somewhat awkward. In the past, they had worked together on the Governor-General's staff, participating in confidential matters, plotting strategies against the Australians. Now both served those same Australians, smoothing the way for their ambitions—the irony of fate was not lost on either man.
Awkwardness aside, proper business had to be conducted. During their meeting, both parties formally agreed that LĂĽ Yizhong would serve as liaison for the Australians, while Li Xijue would serve as liaison for the government. All negotiations and arrangements would be handled by these two men.
For now, Lotus Retreat would serve as their meeting place. If a more suitable location presented itself later, they would change venues.
The Guangdong government guaranteed the personal safety and property of LĂĽ Yizhong and his family.
After these procedural agreements, they turned to the matter of land acquisition—securing land for the "Guangzhou Grand World" project. In terms of the old time-space, this meant obtaining approval for a major commercial real estate development.
Even in the Ming Dynasty, purchasing land on such a scale for commercial purposes was a sensitive matter—especially just outside Guangzhou City! This was not merely a question of money. Without the overt or covert support of local authorities, large-scale real estate development would be extraordinarily difficult.
Moreover, while Ming officials were greedy, they were not stupid. What the Grand World outside Guangzhou was really about—anyone could figure that out with their toes.
"This matter will be difficult to handle..." Li Xijue drew a sharp breath. "Although you're permitted to purchase land freely in Guangdong, acquiring so much land right outside Guangzhou City—I'm afraid, I'm afraid..." He could not think of any specific objection to articulate, so finally he simply repeated: "This will be difficult indeed."