Chapter 2141 - Thoughts of Merit
The Earth God Shrine had fallen into disuse years ago, serving no purpose beyond its nominal function of housing the local deity. For Xie Erren, however, it presented an ideal solution—a vacant space offering far superior conditions to the main prison yet conveniently located just opposite it. The arrangement struck a delicate balance: preferential treatment that wouldn't draw undue scrutiny.
Zhao Fengtian stiffened at the order. "Chief, this seems... inadvisable," he ventured carefully. "The woman attempted to assassinate a Senator—a capital offense under our laws. Even if you wish to extend clemency and ensure due process, she ought to be remanded to Guangzhou for trial before the South China Army Court Martial."
Displeasure flickered across Xie Erren's features. "We lack the resources to transport her to Guangzhou at present. She'll remain detained in the Earth God Shrine."
Zhao Fengtian's mouth opened to suggest the captive encampment as an alternative, but the sharpness in Xie Erren's expression silenced him.
The bailiffs, ever attuned to their superiors' moods, read the situation with practiced ease. The prison head had already divined the Chief's true intent. "Girl!" he barked at Cai Lan. "Kowtow and express your gratitude for the Master's benevolence!"
Before the dazed woman could respond, Xie Erren rose abruptly, a telltale warmth creeping into his cheeks. The sensation that everyone had penetrated his motives gripped him. Anxious not to cultivate a reputation for licentiousness among the locals, he declared with studied formality, "I have other matters requiring attention. Though her accommodations have improved, she remains a prisoner and must be guarded vigilantly. Any abuse will be severely punished."
With that, he swept out with his entourage. The jailers, having correctly interpreted their master's interest in the female prisoner, transformed their demeanor instantly. Wreathed in obsequious smiles, they helped Cai Lan to her feet, showering her with auspicious platitudes about "escaping the abyss of suffering" as they escorted her away with newfound deference.
An official speaks one line; his subordinates break their legs running to fulfill it. The jailers mobilized immediately. Within the hour, Cai Lan's status metamorphosed from "condemned wretch awaiting death" to "Miss Cai." The prison head congratulated himself on his promptness—had the Master delayed until nightfall, the woman would surely have been violated by the guards, creating an impossible predicament to explain.
He dispatched men to furnish the Earth God Shrine with bedding and other necessities, while summoning the county's official matchmaker—a woman who functioned as a semi-official female guard, handling matters involving female prisoners. He pressed a packet of medicinal salve into her hands with instructions to treat Cai Lan's wounds.
"The Australian Master has taken an interest in this woman," he confided. "Attend to her with the utmost care."
Since her arrest, Cai Lan had endured a savage beating with "killer batons," been shackled to a waste bucket, and worn heavy cangues on both wrists and ankles. Raised in comfortable circumstances, such brutality had been unimaginable to her. The ordeal had left her utterly depleted. She'd resigned herself to death after failing to assassinate the bald official. Now that same official not only declined to prosecute her but had removed her from the dungeon and granted her privileges. The reversal felt dreamlike, leaving her unmoored and disoriented.
"Lift!"
At the headman's cry, eight pallbearers strained in unison, hoisting the coffin from the central hall. A handful of monks and Taoist priests yawned as they gathered their implements and began to disperse. Qiuchan's relatives who'd come to assist busied themselves packing away the funeral accoutrements.
The turmoil of war had truncated Qiuchan's husband's funeral to a mere seven days. Originally from Teng County and still young, he'd never purchased burial land locally. In the current chaos, hiring a fengshui master to select an auspicious site proved impossible. They'd settled on temporary interment at a temple, planning to escort the coffin home for proper burial once the roads grew safe again.
The mourners consisted primarily of local relatives and friends—in these perilous times, even a single journey from countryside to city invited disaster. One distant relation had traveled to attend the funeral only to encounter bandits near the city gates. They'd stripped him of everything, leaving him to arrive at the door clad only in shorts. According to his account, he'd knelt and pleaded that he was a mourning guest and killing him would bring ill fortune—this superstition alone had spared his life.
The condolence-bearers kowtowed and offered incense before inevitably settling down for tea and conversation with Hao Ran, who served as the family's "receptionist." None recognized this purported distant cousin of Qiuchan's late husband, but given that the deceased hailed from a large and ancient Teng County clan with sprawling kinship networks, this occasioned no surprise. Moreover, the "cousin" presented himself as a well-traveled man of broad learning and eloquent speech—qualities that encouraged companionable discourse.
Talk inevitably turned to the shattered state of the world, with several guests surreptitiously cursing the bald thieves. Their logic held a certain brutal truth: had the invaders not fought their way to Wuzhou, the city would have been spared military catastrophe, Qiuchan's husband would still draw breath, and that unfortunate rural relative wouldn't have suffered the indignity of being stripped naked by bandits.
This line of complaint opened the floodgates to further grievances. Most of Qiuchan's maternal relatives were Wuzhou natives who combined commerce and farming—middling households with modest property. The army's passage alone, particularly the chaos attending Xiong Wencan's flight, had cost many families their homes and livelihoods. Even those whose persons and property remained intact had endured days of terror that scarred them deeply.
"The Australians parade under banners proclaiming they 'console the people and punish the wicked,' claiming to 'seek the people's welfare,'" one merchant grumbled. "The moment they entered Wuzhou, their first act was imposing a 'reasonable burden.' Every shop must pay! Now the Rehabilitation Bureau compels every establishment to open for business—yet the streets stand empty at midday. To whom shall we sell our goods?"
"At least they've arrested all the beggars," another interjected. "Saves us from having to distribute alms with business already so poor!"
"Beggars pose little concern," a middle-aged man sighed. "It's the Rehabilitation Bureau that proves truly onerous. First, a 'reasonable burden' demanding collective payment. Then 'strengthening security,' requiring every paijia to provide able-bodied men. Now they demand we repair the pontoon bridge—admirable in principle, but it means yet another requisition of our money and labor."
"Since the so-called 'Recovery,' not a single cargo vessel has descended from Guangxi!" This complaint came from a relative who operated a rice shop. "Grain flows only outward—they promised shipments from Guangzhou, yet we've seen not a single grain boat! Meanwhile, every rice merchant receives assignments to supply the military! And they've issued price controls forbidding increases! It's tantamount to sanctioned robbery!"
"Viceroy Xiong of the Great Ming demanded we supply military grain. Now Australian Chief Xie makes identical demands. Either way, the common people serve merely as fish and meat for the powerful!"
"They urge us to resume trade to 'invigorate the economy,'" another merchant scoffed. "The Great Master demonstrates profound ignorance of worldly realities. Chaos and war reign everywhere. Bandits plague the roads just beyond the city walls. Travel by river? Guangxi remains Ming territory—their goods cannot reach us, nor can ours reach them. Downstream? We hear the Yao cave-dwellers have risen in rebellion. Even boatmen refuse passage without Australian gunboat escorts. To pursue trade now is to court death!"
Yi Haoran listened to their litany of complaints while offering appropriate commiseration. His recent excursions beyond Qiuchan's home had been brief and infrequent. Yet what he'd witnessed with his own eyes testified to the Australians' remarkable efficiency. In a matter of days, they'd accomplished an astonishing array of tasks: corpse collection, debris clearance, refugee relief, wall repairs. The streets no longer harbored beggars or abandoned bodies. Civic order had been substantially restored. Though shops saw sparse custom, claiming "not even a ghost" constituted hyperbole—establishments dealing in daily necessities still conducted business. Even suburban security, contrary to the dire portrait painted here, showed improvement: farmers already hawked vegetables in the markets.
By Great Ming standards, this Master Xie already qualified as a "capable official" among local administrators.
Yi Haoran harbored visceral antipathy toward the bald thieves, yet intellectual honesty compelled acknowledgment: they possessed genuine administrative competence.
Since taking refuge in Qiuchan's household, Yi Haoran had formulated no long-range strategy. His immediate aim remained simple: evade capture by the bald thieves, then depart westward once circumstances stabilized and roads cleared. Xiong's patronage was likely lost—the Emperor would never forgive the loss of Guangdong. But anywhere beyond the bald thieves' dominion offered possibilities. He'd retain some prospects for advancement.
Yet this casual conversation among mourners revealed an opportunity he might exploit.
During these confined days, he'd gleaned crucial intelligence: the Australians had failed to conquer Wuzhou's entire territory due to the Yao cave rebellion. More significantly, their main army had withdrawn from Wuzhou, leaving only a skeleton garrison. Several counties on the route to Guangxi remained untaken. Government forces still defended Teng County, where Xiong Wencan reportedly resided.
The distance from Guangxi to the capital ensured a protracted communication delay. From the defeat report's receipt to the imperial decree ordering Xiong Wencan's arrest would consume at minimum one or two months. Throughout this window, Xiong Wencan retained his authority as Viceroy of Liangguang.
Desperate for self-preservation, Xiong would inevitably scheme toward a counter-offensive. If Yi could ascertain conditions within the city and establish contact with the Viceroy in time, the government forces might yet prevail!
Wuzhou's garrison stood depleted, popular sentiment remained volatile, and the Yao rebellion constrained the bald thieves from the rear. The moment invited counter-attack. Moreover, Lord Xiong's urgent need to earn redemptive merit would overcome his habitual strategic timidity.
If Yi could incite select bailiffs and commoners to revolt, seize a city gate, and guide government troops inside, the bald thieves' meager forces—formidable though they were—would be compelled to evacuate. Better still if they could capture or execute that Real Bald Senator Xie himself.
Wuzhou commanded the gateway to Liangguang. Should government forces reclaim it decisively, the bald thieves would forfeit their foothold in the region, forced to retreat eastward along the West River toward Fengchuan County—straight into protracted combat with the Yao. Once ignited, such Yao uprisings persisted for years. Given time, circumstances could shift dramatically. He would have achieved merit of the highest order!
Heat flooded through Yi Haoran at the thought. He yearned to rush into the streets immediately, gathering intelligence on the bald thieves, making contact with potential allies, rallying them to raise the banner of righteousness.
"Master Hao, your complexion appears quite flushed. Have you been overtaxing yourself?"
Yi Haoran started, hastily mastering his excitement. "I've slept poorly of late," he deflected, adding a deliberately mournful sigh. "To think I traveled these many years intending finally to return home for peaceful retirement, only to encounter such warfare and chaos!"
"You speak truly, sir," someone commiserated. "In these times, not a peaceful corner exists in all the realm! The Great Ming teeters on the precipice!"