Chapter 1510 - Ideals
Li Yongxun spent a month at the Resettlement Center. Her main task was "study and observation." Each day she wrote "reflections," then participated in group discussions. Fortunately, after all those autobiographies, more writing came easily. Though she had no idea what the Cropped-Hairs intended for her, she reasoned that months of effort surely were not leading to an execution at the end. Since she could not leave Lingao, she might as well make the best of things.
Life at the Resettlement Center was not bad. Though much of the "study" content was beyond her understanding, most of it was quite interesting: "Recent Political Changes in the Ming Central Court," "Ming Foreign Relations Since the Late Wanli Era," "A Study of Ming Governance," "Analysis of the Liaodong Campaign"...
Li Yongxun was a girl who had originally had no conception of the court or government. Her world had been the tiny plot of ground before her eyes. Sometimes she heard her father and elders discuss court affairs and state news, but she had not been very interested. To her, the court meant the Emperor—especially the current sovereign, who had ascended the throne as a young man and purged the Wei Zhongxian clique with legendary flair. This romantic hero had captured the imagination of young Li Yongxun, who, at that tender age when she had few opportunities to meet outside men, had secretly fallen in love with her vision of the handsome, heroic Prince Xin...
The Study Class's first aim was to dismantle the authority of "the Ming" as the legitimate regime—but it could not do so through crude denial, which would only provoke resistance. The subjects here were mostly people with some "status" or "property" under Ming rule—essentially vested interests. Ideological reform could not be as blunt as with poor commoners and refugees, who could be told directly that Ming rule and the traditional social order were rotten.
Hence, the lectures and courses were almost uniformly "black material" about the Ming, presented with meticulous historical sources and data. The Great Library's voluminous Ming history research papers and monographs supplied ample ammunition, and since arriving in this timeline, the Yuan Elder Court had conducted extensive social surveys and data collection. In the use of data and sources, the Yuan Elder Court possessed talent, ideas, and methods far surpassing any local power.
Yet this black material was always cloaked in "objectivity" and "fairness." In short: affirm the small things, deny the big picture; "praise on the surface, denigrate underneath."
They took full advantage of the era's slow communication and severe distortion of information. Exploiting human curiosity, they systematically expounded on the current hot topics and key issues of society and court affairs—lacing them with generous helpings of imported ideology.
Through such modern propaganda techniques, the notions that the Ming government was "corrupt and incompetent" and traditional society "inefficient" gradually seeped into the audience's consciousness. Paired with constant showcasing of "Great Song" construction achievements in Lingao, carefully edited promotional films about the "Great Song Australian Provisional Capital," and daily "thought reports" and "group discussions"—transformation became almost inevitable.
Li Yongxun was young, a girl from a hereditary military family who had absorbed little traditional indoctrination. At an age most susceptible to influence, she adapted far faster than the others. The Resettlement Center was a form of house arrest, but its facilities were somewhat better than the Study Class. Lingao had always awed newcomers with its "spotless porcelain toilets," and this worked on Li Yongxun too: no more dry latrines heaped with filth and crawling with maggots, no more cesspit planks caked with waste that wobbled underfoot and threatened a deadly plunge, no more stinking chamber pots... Bathing was no longer in a wooden tub crusted with layers of old grime that could never be fully scrubbed away. Clean tiles and fixtures, running water at the turn of a tap—all this had immense influence on a young woman from a reasonably well-off family who had certain expectations about living standards.
Before long, Li Yongxun's sole remaining feeling for the Ming was reserved for the Emperor. But her attachment had shifted from simple "infatuation" to "concern": with the Emperor surrounded by such a "corrupt, inefficient" environment, no amount of diligence could turn the tide. Unless the Australians could be made to serve as officials for the Emperor and govern the realm...
Ke Yun came to see her from time to time, taking her out on tours. Though their backgrounds differed, they were close in age and found some common ground. In Lingao, Li Yongxun had no relatives; Ke Yun was her only acquaintance. Since leaving the Study Class, Ke Yun had arranged everything for her, and psychologically Li Yongxun came to rely on her. She began clinging to her, calling her "Elder Sister." At first Ke Yun ignored the title, but over time she accepted it, answering to "Little Sister."
Gradually, Li Yongxun learned that the "Political Security Bureau" where Ke Yun worked was the Australians' equivalent of the Brocade Guard or Eastern Depot. There was even said to be a "Director-General" whom no one had seen—a very important Australian leader.
Li Yongxun greatly envied Ke Yun, especially when she appeared in her black uniform with leather belt. Though it lacked the splendor of the Brocade Guard's "flying fish robe," it was trim and commanding. The cinched waist, diagonal cross-belt, black uniform, blue collar insignia, shoulder patches with emblems, holster at the hip... No brocade, no treasure blades, yet on Ke Yun it looked indescribably fine—a completely different kind of beauty.
To think that she herself, for all her "Brocade Guard fixation" and "Ming fandom," her burning loyalty to throne and court, could not even wear a flying fish robe because she was a girl! When she secretly tried on her father's, she was caught and scolded. She had to content herself with a miniature spring-embroidered saber. Here was someone else—a real "Great Song Brocade Guard," wearing official attire, even carrying a "Seven-Star Revolver."
"I pledged my heart to the bright moon, yet the moon shines on the ditch." Li Yongxun, amid her envy, grew resentful toward the Ming. To think that her wholehearted desire to serve the court was thwarted simply because she was a girl—reduced to idle fantasy! The injustice rankled.
One day, she confided her feelings to Ke Yun, saying how much she envied her.
"You were a proper young lady—at the very least a respectable maiden from a modest family. Why would you envy me?" Ke Yun laughed. "Don't you know that people like us were pulled back from the Bridge of the Underworld by our superiors? Such a debt of gratitude could only be repaid with our lives."
"You're repaying a debt of gratitude. I just want to do something worthwhile. Being married off and done with it is so dull." Li Yongxun hastened to explain.
"If I were you—if I could have lived peacefully, married, and been done with it—I would never have come to serve the Australians..." Ke Yun smiled ruefully. "But in the Ming, you could never have been a Brocade Guard."
"Exactly." Li Yongxun deflated like a punctured ball.
"Would you like to stay in Lingao and serve in an official capacity?"
"Yes." Li Yongxun answered without hesitation.
"You don't want to go home?"
"I do. But will your superiors let me?" Li Yongxun knew perfectly well that she had seen what she should not have seen. The Australians had already been generous in sparing her life. Whether they killed her or released her, there was no need to detain her for half a year and expend so much effort.
Ke Yun laughed: just as her superior had said, this little minx was clever.
"I want to work at the Courier Bureau—like you, Elder Sister."
Ke Yun said nothing.
How to handle Li Yongxun had been decided shortly after her capture. The Political Security Bureau had carefully studied her situation.
The simplest and safest option was, of course, secret execution: Li Yongxun was no important personage, and her value as an intelligence source was limited. The Bureau's initial recommendation was to dispose of her.
However, considering Lingao's gender ratio, outright killing a young woman seemed wasteful. Moreover, she bore the Yuan Elder Court no blood feud, and she was literate—that alone was useful. At the very least, she could solve a naturalized citizen's marriage problem.
Of course, releasing her outright was impossible—she had, after all, witnessed the abduction of Inspector-General Gao. Local placement seemed the appropriate solution. Kept in a naturalized community with a "controlled use" tag, the Decury would monitor her. After a few years, once circumstances changed, such surveillance would no longer be necessary.
The decision to "locally resettle" Li Yongxun was thus finalized. When Ke Yun reported that the girl greatly envied her work and that her former dream had been to join the Brocade Guard, a final arrangement for her specific duties fell into place.
Li Yongxun was born into a Brocade Guard family and knew a great deal about underworld conventions. Both her autobiography and reports from the Guangzhou Station mentioned her skill in "interrogation and torture"—reportedly a family tradition. This immediately caught Zhou Dongtian's interest. Such work was "dirty work" that most Yuanlao were reluctant to touch. Both the Political Security Bureau and the National Police had to rely on retained yamen runners for these needs. These men did not satisfy Zhou Dongtian—too set in their ways, too old, too hidebound. They could only be stopgap tools, not the promising new generation he sought.
Li Yongxun was young, had family training, was competent, and—most importantly—was zealous about "public service." From every angle, she was raw material worth cultivating.
After deliberation, given her low political rating and complicated Ming social connections, she could not be placed in the Political Security Bureau. Instead, she was assigned to the National Police.
Since the National Police was also a critical enforcement organ, Li Yongxun's position had to allow for easy control while enabling her special skills to be deployed at any time. After much consideration, Ran Yao assigned her to the Household Registration Division.
The division was labor-intensive and required many hands. Placing her in this female-majority department drew little notice; the work was mostly clerical and easy to monitor. Moreover, division staff worked a normal ten-hour day shift—freeing evenings for "loaner overtime."