Chapter 852 - Master Zhao
The External Intelligence Bureau had thoroughly discussed this issue. Obviously, Zhao Yingong could not be linked to the Australians. Jiangnan was not Guangzhou—it lay beyond the Elder Council's cannon fire. Unlike Guangzhou, where Guo Yi had operated in a semi-public capacity from the very beginning, here discretion was essential.
With the assistance of historical researchers at the Grand Library, Jiang Shan ultimately decided to falsify Zhao Yingong's household registration.
Using the Elder Council's influence in Guangdong and the eager assistance of petty officials quite willing to run errands for the Australians in exchange for silver, Zhao Yingong conveniently obtained false registration in Sanshui County, Guangdong. Not only did he secure the false registration, but working through the Guangdong Education Intendant's connections and spending several hundred taels, he also obtained the status of "supplementary student" in Sanshui County. He was now a proper xiucai—a government-recognized scholar. Jiang Shan was also planning to arrange a juren degree for him during the Guangdong provincial examinations, to facilitate further operations.
With xiucai status, one was no longer an ordinary commoner in Ming society. Various rogues and scoundrels would have to show some respect. This provided considerable protection for the Elder's personal safety and social activities.
Once the group had settled in, Zhao Yingong instructed Sun Wangcai to immediately search for a house. To integrate into Hangzhou society, he needed a residence befitting his status—not too extravagant, yet exhibiting the graceful bearing appropriate for a descendant of the Song royal house.
In this time-space, there did exist one family that could claim genuine descent from the Zhao-Song imperial line: the descendants of Zhao Ruohe, Prince of Minchong Commandery, who lived clustered together in Fujian and had built Zhaojia Fortress. During the Hongwu era, with Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang's permission, the ancestors of Zhaojia Fortress had been allowed to restore the Zhao surname, thus reclaiming their identity as Song imperial descendants. Jiang Shan had considered whether to establish contact with this family to provide backing for Zhao Yingong's identity, but after discussion they decided not to invite this trouble. After all, this family held no prominent official positions and had retired from public life since the 28th year of Wanli. They had little influence.
"I believe that for at least the next few years, it would be inadvisable to openly declare yourself a descendant of the Song imperial house," Yu Eshui had said at an External Intelligence Bureau meeting after carefully considering the matter. "Because many of the things you'll be doing are mass public welfare activities. There would be suspicion of 'buying hearts and minds'—and if you were also claiming to be a Song royal descendant, it would invite unnecessary suspicion."
Yu Eshui advised that until the time was right, Zhao Yingong should only hint at his distinguished origins but absolutely must not openly or explicitly reveal his identity.
"All right. But doesn't that ruin my idea of building an ancestral hall?"
"You can build one inside your own residence. Just don't build it on Phoenix Mountain or by West Lake," Yu Eshui replied. "Express just a touch of Song Dynasty elegance, to evoke a sense of nostalgia for the ancients..."
"Song Dynasty elegance?" Zhao Yingong scratched his head. He knew something about Republic-era elegance—bare legs and cheongsams and such—but what did Song Dynasty elegance look like?
"Just let your daily life and surroundings show a bit of Song style, that's all," Yu Eshui explained. "When the time comes, I'll put together a little booklet for you—a guide to Song Dynasty interior decoration and furnishing arrangements. Just follow that."
"Fine. And see if you can procure some Song Dynasty antiques to display."
"Those won't be easy—the prices won't be cheap," Yu Eshui warned. "Take your time. If genuine pieces won't work, start with reproductions. It's the idea that counts."
However, so far Zhao Yingong still had not figured out what "Song Dynasty elegance" truly meant, though generally it seemed to involve refined and understated grace. He was pondering how to explain this more clearly to Sun Wangcai when the time came.
"The house should be fairly large, and the location quiet—but not too remote," Zhao Yingong explained in detail. "There should be a garden. If the location is suitable, even an abandoned residence with an overgrown garden would be acceptable." Finally, he added: "When you go out, stop by the docks and see if that mark is there."
Daoist Daoruanzi had traveled with him, but they had parted ways before reaching Hangzhou. The Daoist believed it would be better for the two groups to enter the city separately.
"When you see my mark, you'll know I've arrived safely," the Daoist had told him. "Don't come looking for me. When the time is right, I'll find you."
"Look carefully. If it's not there, you should go check every day from now on."
Sun Wangcai acknowledged the instruction and went off to find a house.
Finding accommodation in a place like Hangzhou was no simple matter, and suitable houses were especially difficult to come by. Though Zhao Yingong had brought several thousand taels of silver, this money had to cover many expenses—he needed to spend as frugally as possible. Sun Wangcai searched for several days before locating a suitable property. The buying, contracting, and transfer of ownership consumed another ten days or so.
Nothing covert could be done at the inn, so Zhao Yingong brought his staff to wander the streets and alleys of Hangzhou every day, familiarizing himself with the local cultural and geographic environment. He also took the opportunity to practice his Hangzhou Mandarin.
Ming Dynasty Hangzhou was no longer the Song Dynasty's Capital-in-Residence—hardly any trace of that remained. The year after the Song surrendered, a great fire destroyed the Southern Song court's palaces on Phoenix Mountain. In the fourth month of the first year of Zhizheng in the Yuan Dynasty, a fire in Hangzhou spread from the southeast to the northwest, covering nearly 30 li, burning half the public and private dwellings, destroying 15,755 official buildings, private houses, and temples, affecting 10,797 households and 38,116 people, killing 74. The following year, Hangzhou suffered yet another great fire that consumed over 40,000 civilian dwellings—an unprecedented disaster. What had been a flourishing metropolis for several hundred years gradually fell into decline.
At the end of the Yuan and beginning of the Ming, Zhang Shicheng demolished the Nine-Bend City and rebuilt Hangzhou, mobilizing 200,000 laborers to dig a canal around the walls. But shortly after the city was completed, Chang Yuchun attacked Hangzhou. After more than three months of siege with supply lines severed, six or seven out of ten residents starved to death. After the army withdrew, many more died of disease.
It was not until the Yongle era that Hangzhou gradually recovered its vitality and prosperity. As Zhejiang's premier district, merchants gathered here and all trades flourished. Since Jiangnan was the most prosperous region in the late Ming, by modern estimates Hangzhou's permanent population exceeded half a million. After roaming inside and outside the city several times, Zhao Yingong felt this place had even greater potential for development than Guangzhou.
The house was in the "Upper City"—as the name suggested, this was Hangzhou's "upper-class district." The main building had five bays and three courtyards, with east and west wings, a sedan hall in front, and a very large garden at the back. However, most of the garden had been completely neglected. The previous owner had sectioned off a portion to create a charming small garden, leaving the rest to run wild. Zhao Yingong looked it over and felt quite satisfied. Though the house itself was not particularly large, the abandoned garden covered a vast area—besides expanding the garden, there was sufficient land for building extensions.
The house itself was of excellent quality—reportedly once belonging to an official's family. After the master passed away, his unworthy descendants quickly squandered the estate, and the house was sold off to divide the inheritance. Sun Wangcai knew that the greatest fear when purchasing property was becoming entangled in inheritance disputes among heirs, which could lead to endless trouble. So he did not hesitate to spend extra silver at the broker's office and also specially registered the transaction at the county yamen's Household Office, ensuring everything was handled properly and thoroughly.
After completing the purchase, Sun Wangcai found a construction carpentry firm at the tea guild meeting and had the entire residence refurbished and repainted. At the same time, the abandoned garden was given a basic cleanup—for now, there was neither the funds nor the energy for a proper garden expansion.
Various furniture and household items were purchased in a hurry—Zhao Yingong instructed that for now, they should not buy too many things, just the essential furniture and supplies.
Furniture could only be bought secondhand, but fortunately Hangzhou was a provincial capital with many gentry and great households. Fortunes rose and fell; there were always a few declining families selling off their possessions. There were also many officials here, and outgoing officials needed to dispose of furniture and sundries they could not take with them. Thus the secondhand shops were well-stocked, business was brisk, and prices were not too expensive.
Zhao Yingong did not want to appear like a nouveau riche, but he also found it difficult to grasp what "Song Dynasty elegance" truly meant. After much thought, he reasoned that parvenus typically liked things that were new, big, and expensive. To appear understated and tasteful, one needed "old goods." But these old goods could not be cheap either. In short, things that looked like they were not worth much but were actually quite valuable—that was the key. Weighing these considerations, he had Sun Wangcai first purchase half-worn rosewood tables and chairs, along with some decorative objects, and arranged them about the residence.
As for calligraphy and paintings, he had brought quite a few—many works by minor artists from Guangdong and Guangxi, as well as some pieces by scholars who had served as officials in Guangdong. These demonstrated both his Guangdong origins and his wealth while also projecting an air of cultivation.
"I need to find a qinke," Zhao Yingong thought—a literary companion. Otherwise, handling all these matters himself would surely lead to embarrassment. No matter how many history books he read, he was not a person of this era.
Money makes things easy. Once the carpenters finished renovations, the entire party moved from the inn to the new residence in just three or four days, with everything properly arranged. Even the kitchen staff, gatekeepers, sedan bearers, rough maidservants, and all other servants were promptly hired—this was a typical consumption-oriented city with an enormous population engaged in the service industry.
These people naturally could not be trusted, but for now the Hangzhou Station had no clandestine activities anyway. He first needed to establish a proper household before he could begin operations. Later, he could gradually select reliable and suitable personnel.
In his newly completed study, he pondered deeply over the problem of recruiting additional staff.
Reliable people were plentiful in Lingao. Talents from all walks of life could be found among the politically vetted naturalized citizens, but they were mostly from Guangdong, Guangxi, Fujian, Jiangxi, and Hunan. The few from Zhejiang were mainly from southern Zhejiang. People from the Jiangnan region were very few. And what he most needed now were local "guides."
In Guangzhou, they had Gao Ju. In Hangzhou, they were completely in the dark. Gao Ju had some business dealings in Jiangnan but no deep connections—his main network of relationships was in Beijing. So Gao Ju's only use was to provide a few business partners.
Li Luoyou also had no substantial network in Jiangnan. So breaking into Hangzhou's social scene would be quite difficult. The xiucai status the Intelligence Bureau had arranged was too low, and Zhao Yingong lacked literary fame—there was no hope of making inroads through that angle. After much consideration, Zhao Yingong concluded that he would have to start with the novel goods and clever devices. By opening shops selling new products, he could attract the attention of local merchants and eventually gentry, and thus gradually enter the social circles of local gentry and great households.