Chapter 1638 - The Anti-Bandit Gallants (Continued)
Huang Binkun was momentarily stunned, realizing the boy had misunderstood. He laughed bitterly. "Just go and inquire."
After the pageboy departed, he lay down to rest again, but the moment he closed his eyes, all he could see were Lei Lunfu's resentful gaze and his hoarse, exhausted shouting. Nightmare after nightmare tormented him, until he finally gave up on sleep and went out for a walk to clear his mind.
Strolling alone through the streets of Guangzhou, Huang Binkun felt utterly adrift. The scholar who attacked him was dead—and he did not believe it was suicide. Most likely, the yamen runners had done something in secret. Back in Lingao, he had heard rumors that the Hair-bandits maintained a blacklist containing the names of those who opposed them. People on that blacklist died sooner or later.
He himself was probably already on the Hair-bandits' blacklist in Lingao. Thinking of this, he lamented silently. Scholar Lei had dared to act and follow through—he was a hero, however tragic. Unlike himself, who had fled Lingao in defeat, truly like a stray dog.
Wandering through streets he had only recently come to know—this great metropolis of the Southern Kingdom—though the expanse was vast and the city walls imposing, seemingly magnificent, a lethargic pall hung over everything. Standing at the city gate and gazing outward, the blazing construction site by the Pearl River and the languid pace within the walls seemed to belong to two entirely separate worlds.
Huang Binkun reflected on every plan he had devised since the Hair-bandits landed. Each one he had thought clever, yet every time, it had proven as laughable as an ant attempting to topple a tree. No wonder Father and Elder Brother had advised him to "understand the current affairs." But he simply could not swallow this indignity. It should not be like this!
Yet what should it be like? Speaking of their daily lives—before the Hair-bandits arrived, if he and his father were not sleeping with weapons at the ready against bandit and pirate attacks, they were personally going down to the fields to direct tenants and laborers at work. In leisure hours, they repaired stockade walls, forged weapons, and drilled local militia. At night, they could not sleep peacefully either—they had to rise several times to patrol, checking whether the militia on the stockade walls were slacking, especially in the early morning hours. Bandits and pirates always favored dawn for sneak attacks.
After the Hair-bandits came, life had actually improved day by day. Especially after the Tiandi Society contracted most of their land, even Father seemed to have grown younger. His steps were light and vigorous, and he often went to the county seat to attend various meetings. Elder Brother and Sister-in-law's days also seemed full of meaning—the recently added niece was proof of that.
However, their family's status in the county had plummeted. The Huang family had once been the "Pillar of Lingao"; now they were merely ordinary local gentry. To win re-election to the County Consultative Council, Old Dad and Elder Brother had to employ every skill they possessed to echo the Australians' various "movements"—like marionettes dancing on strings...
Truly unwilling to accept it...
Suddenly, Huang Binkun understood completely. The Hair-bandits were indeed not simply changing dynasties. Not only did they wish to transform the civilized with the barbarian, but they intended to completely overturn the long-established order of this world. They did not wish to share the realm with gentry like himself. Their end would either be becoming merchants like Scholar Lin, or becoming laborers under Hair-bandit rule. If fortunate, they might be a "cadre"...
Huang Binkun touched his forehead, finally comprehending why he had resisted ever since the Hair-bandits arrived. In a world ruled by Australians, he would possess no superior social status, no dignity of exemption from kneeling before officials, no privilege of tax exemption, and no one would ever call him "Second Master Huang" again...
Thinking of this, he felt a surge of blood and vitality, experiencing spinning heaven and earth, tightness in his chest and nausea. Staggering a few steps, he hastily braced himself against the wall.
"Hmm? Brother Huang, why are you here?" Someone suddenly supported his arm.
Huang Binkun steadied himself and saw it was Wu Ming. They had conversed animatedly in the Bamboo Pavilion days ago, and yesterday Wu Ming had come specifically to visit him—so they were well acquainted.
"It's nothing. Just a momentary stagnation of blood and vital energy—slightly dizzy..."
"Brother Huang, you're also an injured man. Instead of recuperating in your lodgings, why are you wandering about the streets?" Wu Ming was most solicitous. "Come, come. I'll escort you back."
Huang Binkun felt apologetic, but since weakness pervaded his limbs for the moment, he could only say: "Troubling Worthy Brother Wu."
"Easy, easy. I've just returned from school."
Though Wu Ming was a scholar, he was quite robust, supporting him the entire way back to his lodgings. It turned out he was currently studying at the "Nanyu Community School."
He said he was studying, but in reality he served as a "teaching assistant"—essentially teaching younger students to read while pondering eight-legged essays to prepare for the Tongshi examination. This was common practice in private schools and community schools of the era.
"Worthy Brother Wu possesses broad knowledge. You will surely place high in this Child Exam..." Huang Binkun had nothing else to offer in thanks, so he could only speak hollow courtesies.
Wu Ming laughed. "Relying on Brother Huang's auspicious words. I sat my first Child Exam at nineteen and have wasted ten years in the examination arena. This time, I am certain I shall pass."
Huang Binkun wondered silently. As the saying goes, essays are subject to fate. How many scholars sat examinations their entire lives yet remained mere Tongsheng until death? He had only been taking exams for ten years—how could he possess such assurance to say "certainly pass"? Could he have greased some palms? Given that he mixed with Liang Cunhou and others, perhaps connections might benefit him...
While he harbored such suspicions, the pageboy returned. Indeed, he had copied back a list of names. Whether they matched the people who attacked Huang Binkun that night was uncertain, but they were all individuals who had been arrested by the county yamen alongside Lei Lunfu.
Seeing him repeatedly examining the list, Wu Ming grew puzzled. Huang Binkun then related the matter of Lei Lunfu in rough outline.
"So it was him!" Wu Ming smiled, his face full of disdain. "Good that he died."
"What do you mean by that?" Huang Binkun said. "Though he attacked from ambush, that was because he didn't know the truth. Given that he viewed the Hair-bandits as enemies—he is also a loyal and righteous man..."
Wu Ming showed a disapproving expression. "Hmph, what manner of loyal and righteous man is he? Just a rural evil gentry. I know a thing or two about his background."
It turned out that though Lei Lunfu's family hailed from Dongguan, they also owned property in Guangzhou City. He frequently came to the prefectural capital for entertainment and had many dealings with scholars in the County School.
"This man relied on his family having a few stinking coins and some influence in the county to lord it over everyone. His family bullied tenants and oppressed neighbors in the countryside—not to mention I've heard they even beat a man to death fighting over land..." Wu Ming elaborated. Two years ago, when Commander Wang planned to attack Lingao, Lei Lunfu had jumped up and down quite energetically, spouting nonsense like "Hair-bandits have no soldiers available," inciting scholars to go to the Purple Treasure Studio to "uphold the Sage's teachings."
"Actually, he was preparing to storm in and snatch women. He had even readied sedan chairs and small boats, planning to seize them immediately and transport them back to Dongguan." Wu Ming laughed. "Later, seeing everyone ignored him, government defenses were strict, and word leaked that the Purple Treasure Studio was already being watched by court bigwigs, he immediately shrank back..."
Listening to Wu Ming recount Scholar Lei's "Glorious History," Huang Binkun did not know whether to laugh or cry.
"Later, when the Australian fleet attacked into the Pearl River, his family organized local militia hoping for self-preservation. The result was defeat and death—the entire family turned to ashes—and Lei Lunfu was reduced to a stray dog." Wu Ming was in full flow. "These people in your hand—though I don't know them—I can roughly surmise they're also Broke-Boot Party members similar to Lei Lunfu. Loyalty and righteousness are out of the question, but private feuds with Australians are genuine."
Huang Binkun was secretly disappointed. The fantasy of assembling a team of "loyal and righteous men" shattered instantly. He inquired about the attitudes of the common folk and sundry professions in the marketplace toward the Australians. Wu Ming gently waved his fan and said: "Speaking frankly, half praise and half censure."
It transpired that since Guangzhou paid the city redemption fee, though the Hair-bandits had withdrawn troops from before the city, the influence left behind was immense. Not only had Owner Guo returned openly, but his business was even better than before, and he no longer employed the secretive methods of the past.
"Take these Australian goods. Originally, they were merely rare playthings. Later, paper, ink, and stationery were added. Later still, various needles, threads, iron nails, utensils, and farm tools surged in like a tide—plus useful and cheap items like matches... Let alone intervening, the government didn't even dare levy taxes..."
With this, countless small businesses and workshops in Guangzhou City had gone bankrupt and shuttered.
"Isn't that causing seething resentment among the people?"
Wu Ming nodded. "Naturally. Over this matter, there were disturbances in the city several times. The government fears bandits like tigers—how would they dare speak for the common people? Plus, they're usually well-fed with Australian silver... Fortunately, the Australians have a charity hall in the city. Those who truly can't go on sign up there. Those willing to move are sent to Lingao for resettlement; those unwilling go to work at the Great World construction site outside the city—at least they can make a living..."
"First harming the little people, then enticing them with food and warmth. Truly venomous!"
"Who says otherwise!" Wu Ming nodded. "Conversely, wealthy merchants and gentry with substantial families and businesses—some earned fortunes selling Australian goods; others don't mind small sums and are happy to have various novel Australian gadgets for amusement. They have nothing but praise for the Australians."
Wu Ming explained that the major households in the city were all scheming to build relationships with the Australians to claim a share of the spoils.
The two chatted about odds and ends for a long while. Seeing the sky darkening, Wu Ming bid his farewell.
"I still have to go to the community school tomorrow. Brother Huang, please rest well."
That night, Huang Binkun tossed and turned in bed, deeply feeling that this Guangzhou had already become like Lingao a few years prior. Except for flying the flag of the Great Ming, Hair-bandits were everywhere. Hoping to gather anti-bandit righteous men here was already wishful thinking. Seeing that the travel expenses he had brought were considerably diminished during his time in Guangzhou, he needed to decide his next step. Continue north to Fujian? To Southern Zhili? Or simply head directly for the Capital...
Passing the humid and sweltering night, Guangzhou's early morning was cool and pleasant. While citizens accustomed to rising late still slumbered, Zhang Yu, the young master of Huifu Lane, tucked his schoolbag under his arm and slowly paced out of the ancestral walnut cookie shop. Several old folk getting up early to take down their door planks greeted him enthusiastically when they spotted him: "Shrimp Boy heading to school?"
Zhang Yu returned their greetings one by one, leaving behind a chorus of praise: "Truly knowledgeable and courteous. When will our Datou learn to be like that?"
Fifteen-year-old Zhang Yu was studying at the Nanyu Community School. In his parents' eyes, he was a good child; in his neighbors' mouths, a good student.
(End of Chapter)