Chapter 2202 - Hostages

Lingao—Peng Shou'an knew the place. It was the Australians' lair. "Sending the boy to Lingao for schooling" sounded pleasant enough, but wasn't it simply taking his son as a hostage? Never mind Lingao—even sending his child to Guangzhou was unacceptable. Once there, who knew if the boy would ever be seen again?

He and his wife had been blessed with their precious son only in middle age. They had raised him with endless worry and care until he turned nine, hoping he would one day look after them in their old age. If the boy went to Lingao, who knew how many years they would be separated—perhaps forever...

Peng Shou'an's voice shook: "This humble official has not been greatly corrupt in recent years, but I have taken a few thousand taels in bribes. I will return every liang of it. I will also surrender my meager personal savings—all of it—to the Council of Elders. I beg Your Honor to spare my son."

"The Council of Elders does not expect everyone to emerge unsullied from the mire. Besides, you served Ming—it had nothing to do with Great Song. You have a decent reputation in Yangshan, so I will not pursue these old matters. The silver—keep it. I support that. But as I said, your son is at an age for schooling. Let him go to Lingao for proper study, and in the future he may become a pillar of our Great Song."

Clearly, there was no room for negotiation. Peng Shou'an abandoned all pretense of scholarly dignity, fell to his knees, and kowtowed several times, his forehead striking the floor. "My son is still so young—please grant us a few more years!"

Seeing this elderly man begging on his knees for his son's sake, Huang Chao felt a pang of sympathy. He helped him up:

"There, there—no need for this! He's just going to school, not into a tiger's den. Children in Lingao go to school at seven. Some boarders have no parents and must live at the school. Besides, given your status, we will arrange for your son to be well looked after when he arrives."

Peng Shou'an knew his son's fate as a hostage was sealed. Tears streaming down his face, he said: "Since my son is still young, I beg Your Honor to send a few reliable servants along to care for him in Lingao."

"School in Lingao means communal living—dormitories and cafeterias—but since the child is small, having someone attend to him is only right. I would have had you escort him yourself—both to set your mind at ease and to let you see the prosperity and peace under the Council of Elders' rule. But Yangshan is in ruins and cannot spare you. Find a few trustworthy people to accompany him. If your wife wishes to go, that is also acceptable. As for the rest, I will make the arrangements."

Peng Shou'an realized that not only his son but his wife was now being drawn in. Then again, he himself was in a precarious position, surrounded by bandits and roving brigands. Even if Elder Huang released his family to leave on their own, they would not dare take to the road. Lingao, though the Australians' lair, was at least a place of peace.

He was doomed to bear the label of "collaborator" anyway; fleeing was too dangerous to contemplate. His heart in turmoil, he lowered his head: "Thank you for your grace, Your Honor."

"Choose the family and servants to send to Lingao. I advise you not to bring many servants—Lingao levies a servant tax, and too many will cost more in taxes than your silver can cover. Tell your wife to buy a house as soon as she arrives—any location will do. Otherwise, you may not even be able to afford rent..."

"Thank you for your concern, Your Honor." Peng Shou'an's thoughts were in chaos. How would his wife and child fare? Of his few servants, only one old retainer was reliable—and his health was poor...

Seeing his downcast expression, Huang Chao offered comfort: "Don't be too sad. Your son is going to study. He will come home for the New Year, and once things settle down here, you can take leave to visit him in Lingao."

Back during his time in Lingshui, Huang Chao had arranged several semi-coercive instances of sending local power-holders' children to Lingao for schooling. Once hostages had been delivered, the parents dared not act rashly. More importantly, once in Lingao, it was almost impossible for these children not to be transformed by that "whole new world." Within half a year to a year, their worldviews and values diverged drastically from their parents'. Most second-generation students who returned home became ardent supporters of the Council of Elders—or at least supporters of the Council's way of life. And after a year or two of study, their knowledge and horizons far surpassed those of their peers at home, significantly elevating their fathers' and brothers' standing. Thus, any family of note soon clamored to send children to "study abroad." Promoting new-style education within Li and Miao settlements became a natural progression.

Originally, Huang Chao had not been in a hurry to push this agenda—he had planned to wait until conditions stabilized. But after Peng Shou'an's surrender, his ambivalent attitude had infected many of the surrendered officials, who now dragged their feet.

They had been retained because of their familiarity with local conditions and their considerable utility. If they all displayed this attitude, retention was pointless.

By contrast, although Zhou Liangchen's opportunism was blatant, he was willing and able to work.

This time, Huang Chao resolved to give Peng Shou'an and his fellow surrendered officials a thorough lesson. He ordered their families transferred to Lingao for resettlement.

Departure was set for three days hence. Huang Chao gave them time to pack. Returning to his lodgings, Peng Shou'an noticed someone missing from the courtyard. Looking carefully, he realized his personal secretary was gone.

The secretary could have left at any time—he was free to go—but fearing the unsafe roads, he had stayed with Peng Shou'an.

Upon inquiry, Peng Shou'an learned that the secretary had been arrested for severe corruption and was now locked in the county jail.

Secretaries earning gray income was routine in official circles; Peng Shou'an was not surprised. But the sudden arrest startled him. Could this be a warning?

"How much did he embezzle?" Peng Shou'an asked his old steward.

"I hear over four thousand taels."

Learning that the secretary had amassed nearly as much as himself, Peng Shou'an grew furious. "How could he embezzle so much?"

"He often secretly took the county seal out to stamp documents, colluding with local strongmen to seize land," the steward said.

"How was I unaware? Why didn't any of you tell me?" Peng Shou'an had known generally of strongmen grabbing land. He had not wanted to participate but also had not wanted to offend the local powers, so he had turned a blind eye.

"It was all very secretive. This time, villagers lodged complaints and the Australians uncovered it," the steward said. "Apparently, the embezzled silver was buried in the back garden of the Yangshan yamen."

No wonder the fellow kept visiting the backyard to "commune with the wind and moon"—he had been burying silver!

Peng Shou'an did not wish to continue this topic. He turned to the matter of his son's departure for Lingao: "In a few days, Lin'er must go to Lingao to study. My wife will go too. I have no one here I can trust. I ask you to look after them on the journey."

The old steward exclaimed: "Lingao? That's on Qiongzhou Island—several hundred li from here!"

"It will be fine. This is the Australians' arrangement. They will handle everything along the way. Once in Lingao, everything will depend on you!"

"I understand, Master."

"Pick two capable, honest servants from among the men and women to go along. It is a long journey over mountains and rivers. Lin'er is still a child, and my wife is a woman. They will both depend on you!"

"I will stake my life to guard the Mistress and the Young Master..."

"Enough with the inauspicious talk." Peng Shou'an produced a bankbook from Delong. "This is my savings. When you reach Lingao, use the silver there for expenses."

This old steward had been born into the Peng household and had served them since childhood—loyal and capable. Entrusting the family to him gave Peng Shou'an some peace of mind.

A few days later, at the dock outside Lianzhou city, the surrendered officials gathered to see off their families. Every face was despondent, reluctant to part. Peng Shou'an gave last-minute instructions to the old steward, then wanted to say something to his son but could not think of what. While he sighed and hesitated, Huang Chao arrived with his entourage to "send them off."

He came straight to Peng Shou'an. Peng Shou'an's wife hastily turned away to avoid him; his son, too, was too frightened to speak. Huang Chao paid this no mind and asked with a smile: "What is your name?"

Seeing his gentle manner, the boy was not shy: "My name is Peng Delin—De as in 'virtue,' Lin as in 'unicorn.'"

"A fine name. Here, Uncle has a gift for you." He handed Peng Delin a Lingao-made school satchel and a pencil case.

Peng Delin took them and opened them. Inside the satchel were several books; inside the pencil case, several pencils, a fountain pen, and a small bottle of ink. Peng Delin had heard countless stories of Lingao and seen all manner of Australian goods. He had long yearned for such things; receiving the fountain pen, he could not put it down. Peng Shou'an hastily said: "One does not accept gifts one has not earned. How could my son receive such a valuable present?"

Huang Chao waved dismissively: "Old Peng, your son is going to study. We are colleagues now, and I am something of an elder. In Australia, when a junior goes off to school, it is customary for an elder to give school supplies."

"Ordinary supplies would be one thing, but this pen is too valuable."

"It also represents a hope of mine—that your son may one day become a pillar of our Council of Elders. If you feel unworthy of accepting it, then work harder for me in the future."

With that, he moved on, going to "send off" each of the others in turn.

Peng Shou'an said no more. Though it was obviously the classic "stick and carrot"—as the old proverb said, "a slap followed by a sweet date"—the arrangements were indeed considerate. A warmth stirred in his heart.

The small steamer blew its whistle, about to depart. Peng Delin and the others hurried up the gangplank. Sailors pulled in the plank and cast off the mooring lines. The steamer eased away from the dock. As it glided past, Peng Delin knelt at the bow and kowtowed once toward his father. Seeing this, Peng Shou'an wept old tears and covered his face with his sleeve.

(End of Chapter)