Chapter 2525: Continuing Deeply Rooted and Intertwined

"There's another figure everyone has overlooked—Deng Yunxiao of Dongguan. Of course, he passed away a few years ago. This man rose to become Right Administration Vice Commissioner of Guangxi. After retiring from office, he dedicated himself to poetry and essays, maintaining close ties with the Twelve Masters of Nanyuan, including Kuang Lu and Li Suiqiu. His contemporaries hailed him as the leader of the Lingnan poetry circle. By all accounts, he was an upright man by nature—strict and resolute in enforcing the law, which earned him many enemies. In his later years, he clashed with County Magistrate Guan Tianqu. He was falsely accused in the Nine Thieves Case and died of sheer indignation. The Deng family hasn't grasped the changing situation yet, but mark my words—once the prevailing winds become clear, they'll come weeping to Prefect Liu, demanding justice for their grievances."

Pfft. Liu Xiang sprayed the tea he'd just sipped. "Please, no. Dying of anger is one thing, but it's hardly a criminal case. And how can you be so certain the Deng family will come crying to us? We aren't the Great Ming."

"Because ten years from now in the historical record—the second year of Longwu—his son Fengjing submits a memorial pleading for posthumous justice, and only then is the father rehabilitated," Li Zhuoxian explained. "The fact that they pursue vindication after more than a decade shows how heavily the Deng family values their reputation. Don't worry about them not coming. Though we aren't the Great Ming, once the situation becomes clear, they'll certainly seek to address the injustice. Besides, this is a local matter—it has nothing to do with the imperial court."

Liu Xiang paused, then chuckled. "Hehe. If we can leverage this to pull out other handles against remnants of the previous dynasty, this favor might well be worth doing."

"Unlike Chen Zizhuang, who relied on family connections to mobilize considerable opposition against the Qing, Chen Bangyan was something different entirely," Li Zhuoxian continued. "Despite being a poor teacher, he was the true activist and doer among this group. His organizational and liaison abilities were first-rate—the Southern Ming's anti-Qing activities relied heavily on him to rally support. He was a genuine talent. A pity..." Though they served different masters, Li Zhuoxian couldn't help offering words of praise for Chen Bangyan.

Wu Mu added his assessment: "Despite Chen Zizhuang's considerable reputation, his military abilities were actually quite mediocre—essentially a record of failures, with no real combat experience to speak of. According to historical records, in 1647, Chen Bangyan and Chen Zizhuang agreed to combine forces for an assault on Guangzhou. Inside the city, Yang Jingye and others were prepared to respond, and three thousand Flower Mountain bandits had been arranged in advance to feign surrender as inside men. But then Chen Zizhuang moved two days early and camped outside Guangzhou's walls. His house servant was captured by Qing soldiers while posting notices, and Tong Yangjia extracted the entire plan under interrogation. The whole scheme unraveled. With only two hundred Qing soldiers in the city, Yang Jingye and the others—along with all three thousand Flower Mountain bandits—were captured and executed. A complete failure. When Chen Zizhuang attempted to retreat, Chen Bangyan arrived and sent word that Li Chengdong had defeated Zhang Jiayu and was returning to reinforce the city. Chen Bangyan had discovered that Li Chengdong's troops would have to pass through the Yuzhu River Channel and had prepared an ambush, with blue flags bordered in red as the signal for friendly forces. He asked Chen Zizhuang to join him in a pincer attack. Unfortunately, Chen Zizhuang blundered again—he failed to relay the orders to his subordinates. At the third watch, Li Chengdong came floating down the river. Chen Bangyan set fire to dozens of his large ships, sending Li Chengdong into panicked retreat, and pursued him downstream. By dawn, Chen Bangyan was chasing Li Chengdong's forces right past Chen Zizhuang's camp. Meanwhile, Tong Yangjia beat drums from the city walls to rally morale. When Chen Zizhuang's men saw thousands of sails coming downriver, they mistook them all for enemies and fell into chaos. Though Chen Zizhuang himself recognized Chen Bangyan's fleet, he couldn't transmit orders in time. His rear guard pulled up anchor and fled first, triggering a complete rout. Chen Bangyan couldn't clap with one hand, and had to..."

"Not merely one mistake, but two in succession. Unforgivable," Mu Min said flatly. "Truly, scholars in rebellion won't succeed even in ten years."

Li Zhuoxian elaborated: "Actually, certain clues are visible in the 'Picture and Poems of Farewell Banquet for Yuan Chonghuan Supervising Liao in Dongguan.' Consider Kuang Lu's poem: 'Knowing the glorious fame of the Han Garden, cease the marten furs; orioles and flowers blow off the magnolia oars. Newly carrying horse bones to heroize the Yan market, old bestowed Dragon Spring sword hangs halfway. Tent suspended at night with the Nanhai moon, talk turns spring falling on the great rivers and lakes. Changyang happens to encounter the day of boasting over barbarians; in the vast desert, who else shoots eagles?' And Peng Changhan's verse: 'The ink on the proclamation of victory is not yet dry, the fame makes foreign lands still tremble with gallop. Red clouds wind around the Qilin Pavilion, steeds harness alongside the Xiezhi crown. A scroll of素 writing eventually repays the country; ten years of green temples ascend the altar twice. Going east in rain and snow, the day of heavy return; willows dependently line the road to watch.' On one side you have 'Han Garden glorious fame,' and on the other, 'marten,' 'barbarian,' 'eagle.' A mere 'proclamation of victory' makes 'talk turn to spring falling on the great rivers and lakes'—pacifying barbarian rebellions with the might of the Han dynasty's celestial empire. It reveals how these southern literati fundamentally failed to grasp the true strength of the Qing forces, their heads swollen with arrogant sentiment. Later, Qu Huairui organized village militia to march to the Longwu regime in Fujian, only to die by accidentally touching a blade along the way. While the circumstances were rather strange, it demonstrates these men's utter lack of practical military experience. Many of their staff members also carried various bad habits into Yuan Chonghuan's supervisory staff. When attending Guangdong Poetry Society gatherings, most brought along prostitutes for entertainment—and the practice continued unchanged in Liaodong. Yuan Chonghuan tolerated this..."

"The limitations of their era!" Liu Xiang couldn't help rapping the table. "Such a pity. What a pity."

Li Zhuoxian continued: "Among the Three Loyalists of Lingnan, the ones who could actually fight were Chen Bangyan and Zhang Jiayu. After raising his troops, Chen Bangyan ate only one meal a day and shared every hardship with his soldiers—his forces had the strongest combat power. As for Zhang Jiayu, though he suffered repeated defeats, every time he retreated to a new location, he could rapidly organize fresh armed forces. That was Zhang Jiayu's particular gift. Currently, he's either following Du Yibin to recruit talent for the Shen'ao Learning Society or attending the Temple of the Five Immortals to hear Fatty Cui ramble on. I believe he's not far from truly being brought into our fold. Speaking of Zhang Jiayu reminds me—I almost overlooked someone: Li Shichun. He hails from Meizhou and should currently be serving as magistrate of Quwo in Shanxi. In 1638, he'll be recalled to the capital for his political achievements and become a Reader for the Eastern Palace—tutor to Crown Prince Zhu Cilang. There's a legend that after Li Zicheng's defeat, Li Shichun brought Zhu Cilang back to Meizhou, where the Crown Prince shaved his head and became a monk. Li Shichun's descendants recorded this in 'Brief Account of Mr. Er He.' Local powerhouses in Eastern Guangdong like Li Shichun and Lai Qixiao were staunch supporters of Zhang Jiayu's Wuxing Battalion, providing both manpower and money. Li Shichun and Zhang Jiayu fell into the hands of the Chuang Army together in the capital and were fellow townsmen—I believe their relationship during this period was quite close. Lai Qixiao was a tyrant in Eastern Guangdong, with military power second only to Wu Liuqi of Raozhen. The Lai family's village militia formed the initial backbone of the Wuxing Battalion. Unfortunately, none of these things will come to pass anymore."

Bang! Bang! Bang! Gunfire echoed across the shooting range of the Lingao Garrison Battalion. This had become a favorite pastime for Senators stationed in Lingao. Back in the old timeline, they could never shoot firearms to their hearts' content; now that they'd arrived in the Ming Dynasty, they intended to indulge until they'd had their fill.

"Chief! Director Xiao is looking for you!" Special Agent 9527 trotted over to Zhang Xiao's side, snapped to attention, and saluted.

Removing the ear protection from his head, Zhang Xiao's face remained expressionless. Lately, his heart had been restless. In his private moments, he kept asking himself one question: "Why?"

Before the "South vs. North Dispute" erupted—perhaps someone had revealed it deliberately—Zhang Xiao had accidentally glimpsed the shareholding list for everyone in the Crossing Group. Some basic laborers ranked several grades below him in their contributions and abilities, yet their shares were several times, even dozens of times greater than his own. The imbalance that swelled in his chest felt like Archimedes' lever prying at the Earth itself.

He understood, intellectually, that beyond the guaranteed 100,000 yuan in shares, each person's quota was determined by how much capital they'd invested at the time of "joining the partnership." Someone like him, with no family wealth to draw upon back then, naturally couldn't have obtained more. But understanding something in your head and feeling at peace about it were two entirely different things.

He only knew that he had been truly foolish before. Those in industry suffered the worst fate in any timeline—harsh conditions, countless hours of overtime. And in the end, his shares amounted to that pitiful guaranteed sum plus a token figure, totaling less than 200,000. Meanwhile, a few major hangers-on who contributed nothing substantial held shares worth millions!

Of course, plenty of people with small stakes lived gloriously. Xiao Zishan was one example—but he held the invisible, intangible, yet infinitely precious "Founders' Shares." Wu Nanhai was another. Born as a technical cadre, that man was skilled at social maneuvering, keeping the old Executive Committee comfortable, adept at cultivating his public image. He'd fashioned himself as a simple, honest "good person," building the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries into an independent kingdom while positioning himself as a leading candidate for the next Secretary of State.

And what about himself? He'd been unable to resist getting entangled in the North-South dispute for the sake of industrial sector resources. He'd gained nothing and managed to offend quite a few people along the way.

"Truly not worth it. Not worth it at all!"

"There's no future in doing technical work—it's too miserable!"

"Damn it, no matter what you do, you need someone above to cover you! It's the same in any timeline—connections are everything." Zhang Xiao's mind kept reinforcing this conviction.

"Tell him I'll come shortly," Zhang Xiao instructed. He said goodbye to Zha Wuchu, Jin Zhe, and Chen Huan, who had come to shoot with him, explaining he had business to attend to and needed to leave early. Then he headed to the General Office of the Senate with 9527.

Xiao Zishan maintained a fixed protocol when receiving Senators. Unless someone showed up unannounced, Senators rarely waited long in the reception room. His secretary scheduled appointments at precise times, so that by the time a Senator arrived, the office door stood open and the Director of the General Office himself was waiting at the threshold with a welcoming smile.

To avoid giving the impression that he was "timing meetings" with arrogant precision, he never scheduled them for just five or ten minutes. Every meeting had half an hour reserved. The extra time could be spent in casual conversation, creating an atmosphere of leisure. Sometimes they would share refreshments to strengthen the bond.

Sure enough, the moment Zhang Xiao entered the waiting room, Xiao Zishan was already performing his "welcome and send-off" routine at the door.

After the customary warm greetings—the kind of solicitous exchanges about health and comfort that comrades offer one another—Zhang Xiao took a seat before Xiao Zishan's desk.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he asked with practiced courtesy, "Director Xiao, you wanted to see me?"

Zhang Xiao was a cohort younger than the Three Giants of the Crossing, counting as young by Senate standards. But he was now past thirty. Nearly ten years of tempering since the crossing had made his worldly ways increasingly mature—a far cry from the technical geek he'd once been. His transfer from the basic labor force group to the pharmaceutical factory had been Xiao Zishan's arrangement. To outside observers, his relationship with Xiao Zishan was far from ordinary.

(End of Chapter)