Chapter 2767: The Capital (Part 123)
Yet his master's words echoed in his mind: the calmer the waters, the more likely a tempest brews beneath. This uncanny stillness carried an unsettling strangeness.
Should he flee the Capital to escape whatever was coming?
Zhou Lezhi deliberated at length. It was not as though he lacked options. He returned to the Wang family estate in Jinhua every year, and the property now flourished under capable management. The Wangs were established local gentry, their tenant farmers filling the surrounding countryside. The estate maintained several dozen house guards, all personally trained by his master in years past, later equipped with Nanyang rifles and pistols purchased specifically for their use. By any measure, it was a reasonably secure refuge. But the journey from here to Jinhua stretched over a thousand miles, and the "thieves" would have ample opportunity to intercept him along the way.
The Capital, after all, lay at the foot of the Emperor himself, with the claws and fangs of various government offices reaching everywhere. No matter how formidable the "thieves" might be, they could not act with impunity in the imperial city. As long as he remained careful and vigilant, major problems should not arise.
He chose not to increase his guards. Apart from Wang Zhi and Xu Yong, he had no one else at his side. Liu Zhao had suggested adding more bodyguards, particularly hiring a few "heroes of the rivers and lakes" retained by the prince's estate, but he declined. Too large an entourage would draw attention and ill-fit his identity as a "Divine Physician."
Now, with Liu Sha's whereabouts unknown, he had abandoned even that identity. His public persona was simply that of a scholar traveling the Capital for study—such figures were countless here, far less likely to attract notice.
At present, he had no other choice but to lurk in the shadows and await the next opportunity.
Since Zhou Lezhi's visit, Qian Taichong had pushed the Emperor's summons to the back of his mind, devoting himself entirely to planning the sugar factory. Sugar production offered substantial profit margins and high returns—an excellent path to quick wealth. Though cooperation with the "thieves" was unavoidable, it remained a necessity born of circumstance.
As for the "thieves" being a generational enemy, he could not afford such concerns now. Fortunately, the people surrounding "Da Mu" all looked to him as their leader, so resistance would likely be minimal.
Another thought had begun to take shape in his mind. Once sugar was produced, it would most likely need to be sold to "thief merchants," with the bulk of the profits slipping through his fingers. But if he could bypass the "thieves" entirely and ship directly out of Fujian for sale elsewhere, would that not bring him a fortune? Especially given the success of his activities in the Capital—if he could ship sugar directly here...
But upon further reflection, transporting bulk goods from Anping left no option but sea transport. In the end, he still could not circumvent the "thieves."
If the "thieves" forbade Zheng ships from sailing, no matter how much sugar he produced, he could only sell it to their merchants.
The "thieves" had implemented a comprehensive blockade of Zhangzhou Bay; only vessels flying their command flag could enter or exit. Anyone could apply for such a flag—anyone except members of the original Zheng Group.
This strangled the Zheng family's trade routes. The various factions that had splintered from the Zheng Group, desperate to avoid being completely choked out, had resorted to changing their banners—"selling" the ships under their names to agents who then applied for the flags themselves.
Though this "skin-changing" trick could deceive the "thieves," the command flags came at no small price. The "thieves" had also implemented a "Merchant Ship Home Port Registration" system. If a ship registered a Zhangzhou Bay port as its home port, the registration fee carried a twenty percent surcharge. To avoid this premium, home ports were registered elsewhere one after another.
Over time, the various bosses of the original Zheng Group came to a grim realization: they had lost direct control over their subordinate vessels. Maritime merchants typically raised "adopted sons" as agents for overseas trade. Now, the "thieves'" policies had made these "adopted sons" the legal owners of ships and command flags under the maritime order of the Senate. In peaceful times, this mattered little. But should storms or accidents arise, these ships would instantly have nothing to do with their former masters.
Though they recognized this reality, they could not change it. Qian Taichong, observing from outside, saw the situation with perfect clarity.
After much deliberation, he concluded that when the time came, he could only grit his teeth and employ the "agent" method himself. Fortunately, men like Tong Tailang were reliable enough to be entrusted with such matters.
As long as ships could sail, they could earn money. How that money was earned was a separate concern. For now, Qian Taichong's priority was ensuring the entire group survived. Whether it was Matos's black mercenaries or Tong Tailang's Japanese samurai, they could not be sustained by "loyalty" alone.
If the Zheng family could be revived, enduring temporary humiliation would be worthwhile.
The question remained: even if his side was willing to humble itself, how could they acquire the "thieves'" sugar factory equipment? He had been enemies with the "thieves" for years and could count himself among the rare "Know-Thief" personages, yet he had never paid attention to such things as sugar factories. Mr. Le had mentioned that the "thieves" periodically auctioned equipment, but one had to travel to Guangzhou to participate...
While his mind wandered through these possibilities, the guild hall manager suddenly appeared to report: "There are guests outside seeking an audience."
The visitors proved to be the same Imperial Guard officers who had taken him away not long before. This time, however, their manner was far more courteous. They not only bowed but addressed him as "Master" before inviting him into a small sedan chair.
The chair was lifted, and the bearers moved swift as wind. In the dim darkness, he lost track of how far they traveled. When he emerged from the sedan, he found himself in a narrow passageway flanked by flying eaves and vermillion walls—unmistakably within palace grounds.
Qian Taichong dared not speak and waited beside the sedan. Moments later, two eunuchs arrived and led him to a palace hall, where he knelt to await his audience.
He knew the person meeting him must be the Emperor. The previous instruction to "remain in the guild hall and not leave the Capital" had clearly indicated another summons would follow. At this moment, his heart was caught between fear and elation.
During the last audience, the Emperor's interest had focused primarily on the "thieves," with little expression of sentiment regarding the Zheng family. Yet since the Emperor harbored such keen interest in the "thieves," leveraging this broader momentum of "Anti-Thief" sentiment to secure imperial support for Zheng Sen remained the most viable strategy.
He recalled Mr. Le's words and rehearsed his calculations silently before hearing footsteps outside. Quickly, he composed a respectful demeanor and awaited the Emperor's arrival.
The tap-tap of boots echoed as someone passed by. At that moment, a young eunuch prompted softly: "Audience time!" Qian Taichong hastily rose, announced his name, entered the hall, and performed the ritual prostrations.
Since Emperor Chongzhen had summoned Yang Sichang, he had accepted in his heart the counsel that "to resist foreign aggression, one must first pacify the interior." He adopted defensive postures on both northern and southern fronts, concentrating all efforts inward to exterminate the Roving Bandits.
On the Eastern Barbarian front, the outstanding recent performance of Sun Yuanhua and the Dengzhou Army had gradually stabilized the situation. The Manchus had invaded Korea the previous year, delivering a tremendous shock to the Korean court and public—at one point forcing them to the desperate measure of abandoning Hanseong. Yet the invasion ultimately failed due to the active operations of the Dengzhou Army under Sun Yuanhua's command. They had first saved Ganghwa Island, then Namhansanseong, and fought three engagements at the Yalu River. Korea remained a vassal of the Great Ming.
Unable to secure Korea, the Manchus' eastern flank remained unstable. The Imperial Court's defense line in the Ning-Jin area functioned without major disruption. As for the "thieves" in the south, though they had seized Guangdong and Guangxi, they had halted at the Five Ridges and advanced no further. With no major battles currently raging on either front, it was an ideal moment to exterminate the Roving Bandits.
Yet on the southern front lurked a considerable hidden danger. The "thieves'" combat prowess was extraordinary; they frequently triumphed against superior numbers in fierce engagements. Government troops were mostly no match for them. Without massing heavy forces, they could not be suppressed. Unfortunately, following the fall of Guangdong and Guangxi, the Imperial Court's heavy troop formations in the south had been exhausted. Jiangxi, Guizhou, Yunnan, and Fujian were either stripped of soldiers or internally unstable themselves, unable to field any respectable army for "defense." Though Fu Zonglong was a capable official with military expertise, commanding several battalions as Governor of Southern Gan, his forces seemed inadequate against the lengthy battle line and the "thieves'" fearsome reputation. Should the "thieves" mount an offensive, the so-called defense line would prove no more than a sheet of thin paper.
If the court wished to build a new heavy troop formation comparable to the Guan-Ning Army on the Ning-Jin line, the treasury would surely be bankrupted.
Thus, how to "accomplish more with less expenditure" became the paramount question before the Emperor and the Grand Secretaries. "Recruitment and Amnesty"—pacification—was obviously the cheapest and most realistic option.
Of course, the Emperor harbored considerable hesitation regarding pacification. After all, both the Manchus and the "thieves" were "Giant Bandits" who had "split the earth and established titles." Regardless of the specific terms, the Imperial Court—and he himself—would lose face. This was particularly difficult for Chongzhen, who had always diligently aspired to be a "Sage Monarch," to accept psychologically. Moreover, many ministers both in court and throughout the realm opposed pacification. Once rumors of such negotiations leaked, the Emperor could not predict how many would rise in violent opposition.
Though he was a "Sage Monarch exercising sole discretion," and though no amount of ministerial opposition could shake his administrative will, this young Emperor valued his "reputation" among court officials more than his ancestors had. He often hesitated before major decisions.
Regarding this "pacification," he was proceeding one cautious step at a time. He had revealed hints of his thinking to the ministers of the Grand Secretariat. Judging from their ambiguous responses during audiences, either they had not fully grasped his meaning, or they were deliberately feigning ignorance.
"These pedants! Not one is willing to share the Sovereign Father's infamy!" The Emperor seethed inwardly. Setting others aside, since Wen Tiren had entered the Grand Secretariat, he could be called "adept at understanding the Emperor's will"—yet on this matter, he showed little initiative. Naturally, once word of peace negotiations leaked, another storm would inevitably sweep through the court. And Wen Tiren's attitude diminished the Emperor's trust in him by several degrees.
This was merely a problem of the court. Though the Emperor was young, he understood the fundamental principles. Even if he rejected all opposing views and forced through a court decision for peace talks, this remained a matter requiring mutual consent. Without applying pressure on the "thieves," they might have no inclination to negotiate.
The grand spectacle of collecting "Thief Surcharges" (Kun Surcharge) and appointing Fu Zonglong as Governor of Southern Gan to "train troops"—these measures were all intended to exert pressure on the "thieves." To make them understand that the Imperial Court still possessed the capability to concentrate all its strength for a decisive confrontation.
Beyond Fu Zonglong, cultivating a side force to check the "thieves" offered another method. The Emperor had conceived this idea when he first summoned Qian Taichong.
The Emperor had witnessed the rise and fall of the Zheng Zhilong group. Though the "Giant Channel of the Southeast Sea" existed no more, this Qian Taichong was not only intimately familiar with "thief affairs" but also possessed a burning drive to carve out a legacy. Zheng Sen, too, bore the blood hatred of his father's murder against the "thieves."
With modest support, they could become a side force capable of constraining the "thieves." The crucial advantage: it would cost the Imperial Court very little.