Chapter 24: Gao Ju's Worries
The morning was cool, the weather far from warm, yet Gao Ju was sweating.
Make no mistake—though Master Gao had reached middle age and his figure had thickened somewhat, he remained a robust man. He was not one of those soft, doughy merchants who needed tonics just to manage a concubine. His arms might never have been tested by cavalry charges, but he had once faced down dozens of swords, knives, and firearms without so much as blinking. Yet here was such a man, on a late-spring morning that was hardly warm, breaking into a cold sweat.
A month ago, a letter had arrived from Eunuch Yang announcing that he was sending his adopted son, Yang Tianliang, to Guangzhou to discuss an important matter. Gao Ju could not fathom what this matter might be, and the uncertainty had set his heart pounding ever since.
Having half his profits stripped away by this eunuch pained him every time he thought of it. Still, over the years it was Eunuch Yang's protection that had kept him from disaster. So year after year, he sent every fen of dividends and profit shares to the capital, or deposited them with Guangzhou pawnshops as instructed, never failing. Every summer he sent lychees; every winter, delicacies. He never dared to slack. So why had the eunuch suddenly dispatched a "Little Eunuch Yang" to discuss some great matter?
Great matter? Gao Ju smiled bitterly to himself. He was merely a merchant—what great matter could he possibly discuss with such grand palace personages? Surely this was just another demand for a large sum to be "borrowed" or "contributed." The amount must be enormous; otherwise, a letter would have sufficed. Dispatching an adopted son in person meant Eunuch Yang was in dire need. He sighed. The windfall from a few months ago would have to be coughed up again.
But losing money was not what frightened him most. Ever since the rise of the "Nine Thousand Years" at the start of the Tianqi reign, palace affairs had grown increasingly unfathomable. His backer, Eunuch Yang, had come from the household of Gao Shiming, and that Senior Eunuch Gao had wisely resigned of his own accord in the first year of Tianqi to protect himself. Eunuch Yang was now a marginalized figure in the palace.
What if the Nine Thousand Years took a disliking to Eunuch Yang? The thought made Gao Ju break out in fresh sweat. He had no fondness for the man, but years of mutual exploitation had bound them together like two grasshoppers on a string. If Eunuch Yang fell today, tomorrow the Eastern Depot's agents would come crashing through his gates. Catastrophic ruin would follow.
Could this visit be about that? Gao Ju started sweating again. He bellowed:
"Fan me!"
The maids attending in the study hurried over, waving their silk fans gently, sending a light breeze mixed with rouge and feminine fragrance. Ordinarily, this would have calmed even the most irritable mood. Now it was useless—he felt only suffocating heat. He sprang to his feet and cursed:
"All of you, get out!"
The maids and pages started in alarm, quickly hunching their shoulders and scurrying from the room.
He endured the silence for a moment before a voice announced: "Steward Yan has arrived."
"Send him in."
Steward Yan came to report that Gao Qing had just brought word: the Australian merchants had arrived.
"Already here?" Gao Ju's eyes lit up. This was somewhat good news, offering a small lift to his spirits. After all, watching people deliver money was always pleasant. Lately, the Australians no longer wanted porcelain; instead, they wanted various precious medicines and spices, and they were buying hardwoods and sandalwood. This puzzled Gao Ju—the goods were not hard to find, as Guangzhou had plenty. The problem was that these commodities were mostly products of the "Western Ocean" (meaning Zheng He's Western Ocean, distinct from later usage), and all foreign merchants dealt in them. Why would the Australians need him to purchase on their behalf? The sea merchants grew ever more peculiar in his estimation.
That Gao Qing was useless. Two months of attending them and he had discovered nothing. Though Gao Ju had not really expected that dull-witted fellow to uncover anything.
No time to worry about that now. He snorted and asked: "How's the inventory going? Any new goods?"
"No new goods. We're counting quantities now."
"Fine. Have them come over for a chat."
"The Australian masters brought another person... a trader." Steward Yan was unsure how to describe this newcomer—whether employee, partner, or equal.
"Invite them all together."
"I understand." Steward Yan stepped closer and said quietly: "This newcomer seems to be a trained fighter. Should the master...?"
"Mm." Gao Ju considered. Probably unnecessary—but Steward Yan's caution showed loyalty. He gave his orders: "Tell Instructor Zhao to have a few guards wait in the courtyard. Keep them out of sight."
"Yes." Seeing no further instructions, Steward Yan was about to withdraw.
"Wait—no word yet from the man we sent to Shaozhou?"
"None. Young Eunuch Yang only left the capital on the second of the third month; he probably hasn't reached Nan'an Prefecture yet. Ten more days at most."
"Have the correspondence secretaries find all letters related to Eunuch Yang and review them. Investigate Young Eunuch Yang's background thoroughly: how old he is, when he was adopted, what habits he has—find everything."
"Yes, master."
"Any new court gazettes?"
"The secretaries didn't mention any, so probably not. For the fourth month, there's only one 'Urgent Appointments Report'—just appointments. They didn't think it worth presenting..."
"What nonsense—fetch it immediately!" The Urgent Appointments Report was different from ordinary court circulars; it was the Ministry of Personnel's list of official transfers. Though it did not include major officials, reading the seasonal patterns of even minor personnel changes might reveal which way the court wind was blowing.
Having given his orders and drunk some tea to steady himself, Gao Ju rose to receive his guests in the outer study.
Beiwei was crossing the wormhole for the first time. Standing now in this Ming-era building, it all felt like a dream.
His days as a reconnaissance soldier lay long in the past. After demobilization, whatever work he took up, he had continued maintaining the skills he had learned. This time, joining the crossing trade, his focus was straightforward: a reconnaissance trip for future underground operations in Guangzhou.
Master Gao was their collaborator—but only a collaborator. Since the partnership was purely profit-driven, he might betray them at any moment. They had to guard against this. And if other forces intervened, endangering Master Gao for their own purposes and disrupting the collaboration, they needed to be prepared to protect both the man and the channel.
From the moment Beiwei left the back door of the Guangzhou branch until he entered the Gao residence, he had walked with a peculiar stiff gait—every step exactly eighty centimeters. In his bag was a portable camcorder, automatically filming the environment. But more reliable were his eyes and brain, recording every doorway, every courtyard, every turn, every entrance.
Steward Yan had sent away the irrelevant servants, but this new Australian's strange behavior set the escorting guards to whispering among themselves. They also noted with envy his powerful physique—an average guard probably could not last three moves against him.
Host and guests were now exchanging pleasantries. To avoid unnecessary socializing, they had agreed beforehand that Beiwei would present himself as a bodyguard accompanying the Australian merchants. So he sat erect behind Director Wen, hands on knees, motionless. But his eyes surveyed every direction.
Though called the outer study, it was actually a complete small courtyard, and the hall was not small. Beiwei's gaze swept the room: eleven Ming-era people. Master Gao himself; one escorting steward; one guard; two serving maids; two young manservants; and four household guards positioned at the corners.
The four guards were well-proportioned—small but sturdy. Obviously household martial artists. Their loose shirts probably concealed iron rods beneath.
These were only part of the picture. Since entering, Beiwei had noticed four more guards standing inconspicuously behind the artificial rock formation and trees in the courtyard.
The true master was probably the guard standing behind Master Gao, controlling the door to the side chamber. He wore a blue archer's-sleeve jacket, standing quietly with hands at his sides, yet emanating a subtle, contained ferocity.
Beiwei did not know how formidable these Ming martial-arts masters actually were. His palms itched—if there was a chance to spar, he would not pass it up. He had always been interested in traditional Chinese martial arts. During his military service, combat training focused on modern techniques; traditional martial arts were not covered much. He had attended some performances but found them unsatisfying—too many flowery moves with little real combat application.
Master Gao and Wen Desi continued their business talk, both somewhat distracted. One was thinking about the affair with Eunuch Yang; the other was contemplating the expansion of the Guangzhou branch.
Wen Desi's main purpose for this visit was exactly that: to expand the Guangzhou branch. Their foundation was solid but too closed off. All external dealings went through Gao Ju—unfavorable for future trade and intelligence work. The Executive Committee wanted to "go out" as much as possible and develop more agents, not just merchants like Master Gao, but also officials, scholars, and ordinary people.
Of course, they could not do that yet. Their appearance was strange, their speech peculiar—going out meant being mobbed by onlookers. But the household of servants Master Gao had given them offered another opportunity. If they could win the Gao family's hearts, the road ahead would only grow broader.
The meeting ended quickly. After exchanging goods manifests, the transaction was complete. Goods and silver would be transported by servants. Master Gao was anxious to return to his study and review the materials his secretaries had compiled, so he had no heart for polite invitations to stay for dinner. He simply had a table of food and wine sent over.
(End of Chapter)