Chapter 2017 - Asking Cui Hantang for Help

Organizing such an event in the twenty-first century would have been simple for Fang Fei: inform the partner unit of the per-guest budget, they submit a menu for verification, done. But now Liu Xiang had given him instructions that were ambiguously clear—even the exact budget amount, he'd been told to "work it out with Wang Jun yourselves." Truly expecting the horse to run while refusing to let it eat grass.

Celebrations without money invariably meant relying on sponsorships. Now Mayor Liu had blocked the sponsorship door tight. The twelve designated sponsors sounded like a decent number, representing various industries—all prominent establishments in Guangzhou. Having them pool such a sum wouldn't normally prove difficult. Once this "sponsorship" proposal went out, these twelve shops would fight to be first, afraid of being last to send money, practically emptying their coffers to demonstrate their determination to "follow the dragon."

But Liu and Lin insisted on being fastidious, saying things like "sponsorship quotas can't be too large—easy to open, hard to close," and "these shops are all in rapid development phases, their cash flow is relatively tight. Sponsorship should be token amounts. Don't make their operations unsustainable..." These ambiguous words made Fang Fei's task exceedingly difficult: exactly how much money should he collect?

After considerable thought, he decided to discuss it with Wang and Du. After all, this wedding had originated with them. See what opinions they held.

"The City Government requested we not solicit sponsorship from major households. But those major households naturally won't pass up this excellent opportunity to 'build connections' with us," Du Yibin said. "I see it this way—rather than letting them scramble around outside, throwing silver to plug rat holes, better we open a small aperture ourselves..."

"Opening an aperture ourselves is easy enough. But what do we tell Mayor Liu?" Fang Fei wasn't afraid Liu Xiang would hold him accountable for anything. But the specific principle had been established at the City Government Work Meeting. Opening an aperture on his own initiative equaled disregarding Liu Xiang's leadership and the Guangzhou City Government's authority.

"Saving the nation by a devious route." Du Yibin labored for a while before producing this idiom. "Find Daoist Cui..."

"We're holding a wedding, not a funeral. What would we need him for?" Fang Fei's perception of Cui Hantang wasn't favorable. The Daoist had repeatedly attacked mass activities and major ceremonies Fang Fei organized on Morning Star as "chimeras combining the Third Reich and the Soviets," lacking any "inheritance and development of traditional Chinese culture," representing "foreign slave philosophy" and "dogmatism." Plus, in the old spacetime, monks and Daoists were always performing salvation rites at funerals. He couldn't fathom any connection to this collective wedding.

"While a wedding doesn't require a Daoist, don't forget—Executive Vice Director of the Guangzhou Red-White Council is Daoist Cui," Du Yibin reminded him. "His participating in the wedding with the identity of Executive Vice Director of the Red-White Council makes perfect sense. Having him donate under the name of the Red-White Council—nominally saying it's sponsored by Guangzhou's Buddhist, Daoist, and Catholic communities—naturally, where those three communities pull their sponsorship from... well, we can't control that."

"That's feasible." Fang Fei thought the idea quite clever. Of these three communities, only New Daoism carried any "official" coloration. The other groups bore no real connection to the Council. Donating through their appearance, then using the local Red-White Council's name—all sides could manage the optics.

"I'll go find Fatty Cui to discuss it right now!" Wang Jun volunteered. Because he usually had relatively abundant leisure time, when entering the city he mostly went to Five Immortals Temple to chat with Cui Hantang. Cui Hantang reciprocated. Having ambitions to forge Five Immortals Temple into New Daoism's base, he'd engaged in

quite a few projects of his own, inevitably seeking Wang Jun's help—this miscellaneous expert who "understood something about various fields" in mechanics, electricity, and electronics. Relations between both sides ran smoothly.

Entering evening, the small plaza before Five Immortals Temple bustled lively as an amusement park. Since Cui Hantang had conducted the eighteen-day Luotian Grand Jiao following the Public Memorial Grand Meeting, he'd exhausted himself, losing a good three jin in weight. Mayor Liu took considerable care of Cui Hantang. Not only had he allowed New Daoism to feast well on the Religious Reform in Guangzhou, but he'd also provided substantial covert support for construction. This small plaza before Five Immortals Temple had been cleared out for the Daoist temple after Mayor Liu's "illegal construction demolition." Though not counted as Daoist property, it fell under Five Immortals Temple's use and management.

Though Five Immortals Temple was Guangzhou's premier temple, with magnificent palace interiors, the actual occupied area wasn't particularly large. Successive dynasties of construction had long since exhausted the land within the temple completely. When Cui Hantang wanted to create an outdoor mass activity venue, he literally couldn't find space—the largest outdoor open area within the temple was that square pond where the "Immortal Footprint" was located.

Expanding seemed necessary, yet Five Immortals Temple happened to be located in a busy Guangzhou market district. Vacant land on all four sides—nonexistent. Forget empty land; even the main street was occupied by packed rows of makeshift shacks, leaving only a two or three meter passage. Thanks to Liu Xiang's Illegal Construction Demolition Project, the main street's old appearance could be restored. But expansion still had no avenue. To expand required demolition. Mentioning demolition to expand a Daoist temple—Cui Hantang dared not suggest it, Liu Xiang even less dared approve. Finally, utilizing the fact that quite a few buildings before Five Immortals Temple lacked property deeds and thus counted as "illegal construction," they'd demolished a patch of empty land.

Cui Hantang had paid money to "compensate" common people whose houses were demolished, hired workers to level and pave the ground, erected wooden fencing encircling the plaza—ostensibly for "convenient management"—added several flower beds, planted trees, arranged long benches. Truly expending both money and effort, he'd finally established this "propaganda position."

Having this position, Cui Hantang naturally wanted to utilize it fully. Mornings organized Daoist students practicing Tai Chi. Daytime opened it to the masses for rest. Evening engaged in various "propaganda" activities here.

These propaganda activities essentially constituted "preaching." However, this plaza more or less counted as a "public venue." Anti-religious sentiment within the Council remained very strong. New Daoism, though being the "biological son" drummed up by the Council itself, always attracted controversy. The previous period, because of Liu Xiang's affairs, Cui Hantang had fully experienced the strength of various Council trolls. Now he could only engage in relatively low-key activities.

Today's activity was "Australian Shadow Play." Cui Hantang had originally wanted to present shadow play as his own "magical art." But reconsidering—Lingao already had cinema, quite a few naturalized citizens had watched movies—this boast would easily be punctured. He had to abandon that tack. However, the film he chose still aligned as closely as possible with "Daoist" themes.

News that Australian Shadow Play would be shown today had spread through major and minor streets. This shadow play, according to people who'd watched in Lingao and the Purple Ming Building, was an Australian rarity—far superior to "pulling Australian slides" on the street. Everyone wanted to see this novelty. Before the sky had even darkened, the plaza before the temple was already packed with people. Nearby children rushed over in droves, shouting and calling, running and jumping. The entire plaza was a cacophony. Even the newly placed stone qilin before the temple and the surrounding wooden fencing were climbed full of people. Some wealthy households even had household servants occupy positions in advance, then arrived in cool sedan chairs to watch. Peddlers seized the opportunity to sell food, tea, and water. Five Immortals Temple's entrance was packed impenetrably, easily several hundred people. Daoist students inside the temple all deployed to maintain order on the street and plaza.

The plaza had already erected two vertical columns with rope tied across the top, from which hung a white cloth screen with black borders.

Outside, voices boiled. Everyone anxiously awaited the opening. But inside the palace within the temple, Cui Hantang lay sprawled on a bamboo couch chatting with Fu Meng in fits and starts. Time was still early. Until the sky darkened completely, the movie couldn't be shown.

The conversation naturally concerned New Daoism's development in Guangzhou. Though these days New Daoism had gained considerable ground—both in image and materially—development still couldn't be called smooth. Guangzhou Council members suppressed from time to time. The greater Council shouted threats every few days, causing Daoist Cui to lose another half-jin in weight.

Though he'd established his reputation as a "Real Person" in Guangzhou through a repertoire of "sleight of hand" magic tricks and his silver tongue, and had succeeded in approaching and winning over quite a few scholar-gentry, when it came to major progress—none whatsoever.

His work to develop believers from among scholars, especially famous local literati, had proven unsuccessful. Cui Hantang painfully discovered that regardless of how many "divine skills" he displayed or how much "shocking worldly convention" theory he expounded, this gang of scholars always maintained a barrier with him. Forget "opening their hearts"—even "worship and belief" remained very distant. Particularly several scholars he'd tried his utmost to win over, hoping they might convert—nearly every one possessed tenacious minds and wills, simply not susceptible to a few words of persuasion.

Fortunately, activities among commoners and major households proceeded relatively smoothly. Many people came to join the Dao purely to "build connections" with Australians. Cui Hantang had fished quite a few "dedications" from the heads of major-household families joining the Dao, and as "revenue generation" had received great praise from Daoist Master Zhang.

"...Old Tang, this shadow play move of yours, though good, can't withstand consumption. Not to mention the controlled projector bulb—just your notebook alone, Lingao's already broken quite a few."

Cui Hantang curled his lips. "That gang of kids playing games all day, watching AVs—not breaking would be strange! My little notebook is very precious. I usually cherish it. Using it another ten or eight years, no problem."

"Then what film are we showing? Founding Ceremony or the parade?" Fu Meng asked.

"Che! I have to say, you science students all have short-circuited brains! Could this Daoist temple possibly show that? You just debug the machine properly and listen to me. My USB drive has quite a few good things copied." Cui Hantang spoke proudly, completely disregarding Fu Meng's awkward expression.

"No problems, right? It won't leak our origins?" Though Fu Meng felt slightly annoyed, he still cared for this straight-talking fellow villager. Compared to administrative officials full of schemes, he preferred chatting with this godstick Daoist. Felt very relaxed, without any pressure.

"Relax. I edited everything. Head and tail all removed. Producer, studio, whatever—all removed too. Good, let's go out. The sky's already dark." While speaking with complete unconcern, Cui Hantang stood up and beckoned him to walk outside.