Chapter 2067 - Outside Help
Outside Guangzhou's northern gate rose White Cloud Mountain, where scattered peaks and ridges undulated across the landscape—not particularly lofty, but verdant and luxuriant, with winding paths threading through shaded groves. Climbing to the heights, one could survey the entire city sprawled below, the Pearl River weaving its silver thread through the urban fabric. This scenic landscape had, since ancient times, been celebrated as one of the Eight Sights of Yangcheng—"Mount Baiyun in Evening Glow"—and was dotted with renowned monasteries.
Yongtai Temple stood amid this splendid scenery. Nicknamed the "Eunuch Temple," it had been founded with lavish donations from Wei Juan, a powerful eunuch who served as Superintendent of the Maritime Trade Inspectorate in Guangzhou during the Chenghua reign, and had received an imperial inscription from the Chenghua Emperor himself. Thanks to this exalted connection, the temple not only boasted magnificent buildings but had remained one of Guangzhou's largest religious landholders for over a hundred and fifty years.
Hao Er alighted from his sedan before the temple gates and led his servants inside. He was recognized as a "distinguished benefactor" here; the moment he entered, a young novice scurried off to report his arrival, and the guest-receiving monk emerged to greet him with appropriate deference.
He paid his respects to the Buddha in the main hall, offered incense, and donated clothing and foodstuffs. While making polite conversation with the guest-monk, he covertly observed his surroundings. When the moment seemed propitious, he inquired with studied casualness, "Has a guest surnamed Li—a visitor from out of town—arrived here recently?"
The monk confirmed that indeed, an extended family of men and women, old and young, had come from afar to fulfill a Buddhist vow. They had rented a small courtyard in the rear compound for their stay.
"This is a distinguished guest of mine, come to Guangzhou especially for worship. Would the master be so kind as to announce me?"
Famous temples frequently maintained refined quarters and courtyards where wealthy patrons could lodge during extended pilgrimages—functioning essentially as high-class guesthouses. For a merchant like Hao Er to have visiting guests staying here was entirely unremarkable. The monk suspected nothing and led him there directly.
Upon announcement, a voice from within invited him to enter.
Hao Er, accompanied by his personal attendant, stepped into the courtyard. A servant was already waiting in the yard, all smiles, and escorted them into the main hall.
In the center of the principal room stood a rosewood Eight Immortals table. Five or six people sat arranged around it; one man stood on the left—the same messenger who had delivered a letter to Hao Er's shop several days prior. On the right, another man rose to greet him, his face somehow familiar. This person stepped forward with a welcoming expression.
Hao Er cupped his fists and bowed courteously. "Might I inquire which of you gentlemen is 'Fourth Master'?"
The man laughed warmly. "Hao Er, it's been three years—have you forgotten your old friend Meng so quickly?"
Hao Er studied the speaker more closely: he wore a sky-blue Suzhou silk Daoist robe, a scholar's square-cloth cap, and no jade or stone ornaments—approximately forty years of age, with the shrewd bearing of a seasoned merchant visible in every gesture.
Mental calculations raced. Three years ago? His accent derives from the Hui-Zhe region. Three years ago I traveled to Anhui to negotiate paper and ink transactions. His surname is Meng—could he possibly be connected to that venerable family...? He said aloud, almost involuntarily: "Could you possibly be Steward Meng of the Cloud-Black Studio?"
Steward Meng's face brightened three degrees further with evident pleasure. "Indeed! I am your humble servant Meng Guolu. As for Fourth Master's affairs, there's no immediate rush—allow me first to introduce you to several senior masters who have made this dangerous journey." He gestured toward the standing figure. "This is Young Hero Wang Su of Qingcheng, styled Quji. You've already met him when he delivered the letter. Most zealous in opposing evildoers, he is. Quji, would you please stand watch at the door for a spell?"
Wang Su, evidently a man of few words, cupped his fists briefly and stepped outside to take up his position.
Meng Guolu then turned to address the assembled company: "Second Master Hao, given name Fang, courtesy name Jinzhi—a man of public spirit and loyal service to the throne. He possesses expertise in calligraphy, antiques, and fine arts. Our great undertaking of counterfeiting Song-era treasury notes shall largely rest upon his capable shoulders."
The room immediately filled with enthusiastic cries of "Long admired!" and "We've heard your name!"
Meng Guolu then proceeded to introduce each person in turn, moving around the table.
The elderly gentleman occupying the seat of honor possessed a head of pure white hair and beard, yet remained remarkably vigorous in bearing. This was the legendary "Pattern Li"—Li Fugui, once an engraver of coin molds at the Ministry of Works' Treasury Bureau. He had specialized for decades in crafting the mother coins from which all provincial mints derived their coinage patterns. Although each province cast its own currency, all were legally required to conform to the "mother coins" issued by the Ministry of Revenue. Thus, the creation of these "mother coins" was a matter of paramount technical and political importance.
"Pattern Li" had served more than forty years at the Ministry of Revenue; the mother coins for every reign of coinage had passed through his hands at some point. He had retired several years ago to enjoy his twilight years in peace, and most of the craftsmen currently working at the Ministry of Revenue's Treasury Bureau were either his direct disciples or grand-disciples.
Such master artisans, who earned their living entirely through skill, held little formal status in the early Ming hierarchy, but those who rose to become master craftsmen in imperial service naturally carried considerable professional pride. They were accustomed to meeting high officials and grand secretaries with perfect equanimity. Li merely smiled gently, bowed slightly, and said with dry wit, "This old man, Li Fugui—presuming upon seniority—has, for this excursion from the capital, learned to style himself a 'merchant gentleman.' Please don't laugh at my pretensions."
On the old man's left sat an elderly lady, serene and composed, holding a string of prayer beads like a devout lay Buddhist. Astonishingly, this proved to be the rather mysterious "Chaotic Brush Liu." Hao Er felt genuine surprise and couldn't help studying her more closely. The old lady raised her eyes with a faint, knowing smile: "This humble woman has made a modest name repairing damaged paintings and mending deteriorated calligraphy—earning her bread serving the great houses. Who would have imagined that at this late age I'd be dispatched on an imperial mission of such delicacy? My nephew here specializes in Song-era books and paintings. Please, Jinzhi, do guide him well in the ways of Guangzhou."
Her speech, though nominally Mandarin, carried the soft, musical lilt of Wu-accented dialect.
A slender man of about thirty rose gracefully to pay his respects: "I am Liu Cheng, courtesy name Jinong—friends call me 'Youyou Studio.' Second Master Hao, your family's imitation of Plum Daoist's Spring Voyage on Cloud Dream Lake caused quite a sensation in the capital—was that your own handiwork?"
Hao Er's expression shifted, becoming heavy with grief. "I dare not claim such credit. That was primarily my uncle's work; my son merely ground the ink and contributed a few brush strokes. Alas! Had time permitted, his natural talent in painting would have surpassed mine a hundredfold..." His eyes reddened as painful memories surfaced.
He was about to elaborate when Meng Guolu diplomatically interjected: "Your grievance is known to all of us here. During the great plague, your young master was wrongfully seized by the Australian pirates and thrown into some brutal quarantine camp—a fine young man with such brilliant prospects, just... gone like that. Tragic beyond words! Along our journey here, we've witnessed how many families like Second Master's and yours, Hao Er, have been utterly ruined and destroyed by these invaders. As for Young Hero Wang standing guard outside—his family once dealt in Sichuan salt, a thriving multi-generational business. But the Ma'ao salt has crossed the seas and is now sold across six entire provinces. Before their eyes, a prosperous clan of several hundred souls fell into complete ruin. Truly, until these Australian pirates are exterminated root and branch, the troubles will never cease."
The others murmured fervent agreement: "When the hairy pirates first arrived, they still traded somewhat peaceably, peddling exotic goods from distant shores. Who could have known they would interpret our courtesy as weakness, burn our ancestral homes, destroy our livelihoods, and carry off our people like common bandits? Heaven and Earth above, all spirits and gods should curse them thoroughly!"
Surrounded by these fellow travelers, hearing their sympathetic words echoing his own bitter experiences, Hao Er felt unexpected warmth flooding his heart. He had undertaken this perilous enterprise driven by a volatile mixture of self-interest, moral obligation, and burning personal vengeance. Yet working alone undercover in Guangzhou, watching as one ally after another was discovered and brutally executed by the Australian pirates, even in his midnight dreams he could not escape the sensation of drifting utterly alone through icy waters.
On the opposite side of the table, a middle-aged man had already risen and spoke with evident sincerity: "To dwell among virtuous men is like entering a room filled with orchids. Jinzhi's willingness to risk everything and sacrifice his family fortune for this righteous cause is truly admirable beyond measure. I am Lin Qiangyun; my family deals in paper manufacturing."
Hao Er hastily returned the courtesy: "I have long admired the renowned Tribute Paper Lin family by reputation. I deeply regret never having had the opportunity to visit your esteemed establishment. Three years ago, I was actively preparing to travel and discuss the paper trade with your family, but the endless wars throughout the region prevented the journey."
Lin Qiangyun's expression darkened visibly: "Were it not for the Australian pirates throwing the entire southeast into chaos, matters would never have deteriorated to this point. They've systematically broken the brokers' guilds, flooded the markets with their industrially-produced paper at ruinous prices. These days, throughout the Two Guangs, Fujian, and Zhejiang, the Tribute Paper Lin family is reduced to nothing but yesterday's wilted flower—a fading memory of former glory."
Beside him, another middle-aged man with the weathered appearance of an experienced farmer counseled gently: "Since we all bear the solemn royal commission to counter the Australian pirates' economic warfare, let us set aside our righteous anger for the moment, Qiangyun, and focus on the practical work ahead."
Meng Guolu then introduced him with evident respect: "This is 'Block-Carving King' Wang Dou, a master whose reputation precedes him. And this gentleman here is 'Living-Bug Zhao'—Zhao Jiaren, equally renowned in specialized metalwork."
After all had exchanged elaborate courtesies befitting their stations, they invited Hao Er to sit and served him tea with appropriate ceremony.
Only then did Meng Guolu explain in lowered tones: "Fourth Master has been actively circulating these past few days. First, to establish liaison with the old local resistance networks and gather necessary funds and supplies. Second, he learned through intelligence sources that Seventh Master in Lingao and Sorcerer Wu here in Guangzhou have both been captured by Australian security forces, and several prominent gentry families in Guangzhou have suffered complete extermination—their lines ended. We must now proceed with the utmost caution, and Fourth Master simply cannot appear openly in any capacity. Earlier, while you were burning incense in the main hall, Fourth Master observed you discreetly from a concealed vantage point. Having returned here and consulted with all of us, we are now satisfied beyond doubt regarding your identity and commitment."
After several rounds of polite exchanges and sharing recent intelligence, Hao Er ventured: "Since the Australian pirates occupied Guangzhou militarily, they have systematically begun to seize the accumulated wealth of temples and monasteries throughout the region. All the major and minor Daoist temples in Guangzhou now fall under the direct jurisdiction of some 'True Master' of the so-called Grand Song Daoist Yunji Sect, headquartered at the Temple of the Five Immortals. They have also brazenly colluded with the Red-Haired foreigners to requisition extensive land and buildings below Yuexiu Mountain, ostensibly to construct some massive cathedral. It seems all religious orders will ultimately be brought under rigid Australian control. Buddhism too cannot possibly escape this systematic suppression. Although this particular temple enjoys certain protections and is indeed a pleasant refuge, it cannot be considered truly safe for extended stays. Moreover, coming and going presents logistical inconveniences—Australian spies infest the commercial inns like lice. Would it not prove wiser for everyone to lodge temporarily at my private residence instead? I can ensure both discretion and comfort."
Meng Guolu responded thoughtfully: "Jinzhi, your consideration for our welfare is most touching. However, I have received explicit guidance from Stone Elder himself: the surveillance net in Guangzhou grows tighter with each passing day. Though we currently pretend to constitute one extended family, we are not genuinely related by blood. Eventually, persistent scrutiny will expose our fabricated cover. Moreover, this counterfeiting undertaking inevitably creates considerable disturbance over time; prolonged concealment will become progressively impossible. Even you, Jinzhi, should not continue managing these dangerous affairs from within the city proper indefinitely. Fourth Master has already established contact with trusted local connections and successfully purchased a workshop compound located outside the county seat, in a more remote area. Incidentally, for purposes of our collective cover, we have all adopted the surname Li, with the nominal household head being Li Fugui here. Once all preparations are finalized and the specialized paper and ink materials arrive as scheduled, we shall relocate there and establish our base of operations for an extended period."
Next update: Volume Seven—The Liangguang Campaign, Section 180
(End of Chapter)