Chapter 184: Building a Harmonious Lingao (Part 3)

Zhang Youfu had been waiting outside the main hall. He was an old acquaintance of Xi Yazhou's—every interaction between the county and the transmigrators passed through his hands. Of all the local landlords and gentry, none looked upon them more favorably, and he had earned considerable fees for his troubles over these months.

He welcomed them into the hall, where crimson candles blazed against the walls and an Eight Immortals table stood laden for a banquet. A middle-aged scholar rose from his seat as Wen Desi and the others entered, clasping his hands in greeting with a broad smile and beckoning them to sit. His warmth was immediate and effusive, as though they were old friends rather than strangers meeting for the first time. Everyone understood that this was the evening's true host.

The visitor was Wang Zhaomin, Wu Mingjin's secretary. He had observed Xiong Buyu's entire visit from behind a screen and had pored over the letter several times afterward.

Years of itinerant secretarial work had given Wang Zhaomin vast experience, and the transmigrators' purpose in organizing joint defense was crystal clear to him. He suspected these baldies of unknown origin harbored calculations similar to those of the recently amnestied Zheng Zhilong: they had no desire to make enemies of the government but hoped to establish a coastal foothold for maritime trade—much as Zheng Zhilong had done when he occupied Zhongsuo.

Yet for all his shrewdness and experience, Wang Zhaomin could never have imagined their true purpose was to replace the Ming Dynasty itself. From his perspective, their refusal to attack the county seat demonstrated they would not cross certain lines—unlike Zheng Zhilong, who had seized an imperial city.

Given this premise, the baldies' demands seemed reasonable enough. After careful consideration, Wang Zhaomin concluded that negotiation was possible—they could discuss terms and conditions. After all, they had sent over a hundred genuine pirate heads as a greeting gift. Their sincerity was beyond question.

Wu Mingjin himself was helpless—unwilling but powerless, he could only temporize. So he had sent Wang Zhaomin to make contact.

By the standards of another spacetime, Landlord Zhang's banquet would have seemed pathetic to these worldly transmigrators. But for people who had subsisted on fish and vegetables for months, the sight of whole chicken, whole duck, generous chunks of stewed meat, and an entire crispy golden roast suckling pig set mouths watering. The oil-starved transmigrators felt their salivation accelerate at the very sight of it. Fresh vegetables appeared in abundance, along with plenty of wine—local liquor. Conspicuously absent was any "fresh seafood"—it was far too abundant locally to be worth serving.

For the sake of appearances, the eight transmigrators serving as guards could not share the main table. Only Xi Yazhou and Wen Desi enjoyed the banquet under the envious gazes of their companions, who squatted in the outer hall around a separate table. That table held only a scrawny old chicken and some vegetables. A bowl of meat slices was piled high, but after each person took one slice, they discovered the rest was all fried sweet potatoes—only eight slices of meat total, clearly calculated per head.

Not that they dared eat much anyway. The Health Department doctors had so thoroughly terrified them about parasites that they maintained a wary suspicion of locally cooked food, compounded by concerns about poison. Two men stood guard at the main gate, and two more watched the side entrance.

After the customary polite exchanges and several rounds of drinks, once the two commissioners had sampled some suckling pig, the conversation turned to business. Zhang Youfu spoke first, probing once more into the Executive Committee's demand for villages to convene at Bairen. He offered that the county gentry were willing to contribute grain and funds—they need only name the amount, and it would be delivered on schedule—if only the transmigrators would abandon this militia scheme.

Wen Desi asked directly: "Is this the Magistrate's position, or the gentry's?"

Zhang Youfu fell momentarily speechless, glancing awkwardly at Wang Zhaomin. These words were actually Secretary Wang's instructions. The gentry themselves had no objection to organizing joint defense—Northern Lingao had long suffered pirate raids, and many local bandits colluded with pirates for highway robbery and kidnapping ransoms. Both gentry and tenants suffered terribly. In truth, the gentry had somewhat lost faith in the yamen. If a powerful group was willing to lead the organization, they would welcome it.

Wang Zhaomin interjected smoothly: "Naturally, it is the gentry's position."

Xi Yazhou smiled coldly. "The gentry's position?" He tapped the table. "On December 17th, what did Wu Ya tell the elders in Meitong Village? On December 20th, what did Fu Baiwen say at Nadu, Meiyang, and Meiguo villages? And just two days ago, your bailiff went specifically to Bowen Village to warn them that 'when heavenly troops arrive, only ash remains.' Did he not?"

Wang Zhaomin's heart lurched. These baldies knew the county's actions down to the last detail. He forced a smile. "County officials inspecting the countryside is routine—"

"Inspect all you like; that's your duty," Xi Yazhou cut in. "I understand the county has been aggressively collecting autumn grain recently. Running short again?"

"Collecting imperial taxes is a righteous duty. What's wrong with that?"

"Times are bad. Pirates and bandits everywhere. We want to organize joint militia defense, but the authorities won't allow it." Xi Yazhou's smile turned sinister. "Who knows what might happen to grain convoys along the road—"

Wang Zhaomin visibly shrank. Had they threatened to storm the city, he would not have been afraid—if they wanted to attack, they would have done so already. Why bother negotiating? It had to be empty bluster. But robbing grain convoys was another matter entirely. It would benefit the baldies while threatening Wu Mingjin's very career.

He quickly arranged his face into a smile. "You're all the court's good citizens. Organizing militia is for the local people's benefit. This matter is certainly discussable."

Wen Desi took another bite of crispy suckling pig—the flavor was indeed richer than that of the other spacetime. "Secretary Wang, let me speak plainly. Magistrate Wu remains this county's parent official. Law-abiding citizens like ourselves, committed to 'protecting territory and people,' would never trouble him. Not only that—we wish him 'rapid promotion.'"

Wang Zhaomin nodded, his calculations complete. He made eye contact with Zhang Youfu, who quickly stood and excused himself.

With the landlord gone, both sides lowered their voices and began their secret discussion.

At first, Wang Zhaomin would only agree that the yamen would tacitly permit the arrangement. But Wen Desi refused firmly. To him, tacit permission was no better than refusal—experience from another spacetime had taught him that tacit permission was merely a prelude to future prohibition. Though this would not affect the transmigrators themselves, the villages would have reservations.

They negotiated back and forth until they reached an agreement: the transmigrators' organized joint militia defense would face no county obstruction, but the organizer could not use the transmigrators' name—it must be some village headman. Easy enough. Wen Desi proposed Damei Village as the nominal petitioner. Once the petition arrived, the county would stamp its approval.

In return, the transmigrators promised to assume responsibility for coastal pirate defense, to organize bandit suppression campaigns, and to maintain rural peace. They would not interfere in the yamen's routine administrative functions and would assist with certain tasks when necessary—autumn grain collection, for instance. If the county failed to meet its summer or autumn tax quotas, the transmigrators would provide assistance, the methods to be discussed.

The Ma'ao salt field's salt tax and surcharges, already under transmigrator control, would continue being paid as before, plus an additional hundred taels annually for county miscellaneous expenses. The East Gate Market would pay ten taels in annual miscellaneous tax and receive an official "broker license" recognizing its market status.

Both parties agreed that all pirate or bandit heads captured in combat would go to the county, along with any captured seals, tokens, banners, and documents. All other spoils would belong to the transmigrators.

If Officer Fu Baiwen was willing to return to Bopu as inspector, the transmigrators would permit it. They would build him a new yamen and provide twelve archers. All expenses would be borne by the transmigrators.

The county, for its part, would provide all legal conveniences to the transmigrators—matters involving escaping slaves, absconding debtors, property transfers, and the like. Since the transmigrators had no Ming household registration, Wang Zhaomin suggested establishing a "Bairen Village" with seven or eight registered households. This would give them legal standing; otherwise, documents and contracts could not be properly written.

Finally, naturally, came the discussion of personal benefits. Wang Zhaomin showed keen interest in this portion of the negotiations, actively advocating for himself and his employer alike.

After considerable bargaining, Wen Desi agreed: three hundred taels of silver for Secretary Wang, one thousand taels for Magistrate Wu. Both sides also agreed to partner in selling salt at the county seat and all fourteen county markets. The transmigrators would supply the goods while Secretary Wang handled the legalization of illicit salt and its sale. Profits would be split fifty-fifty.

To avoid suspicion, both sides designated Zhang Youfu as their liaison. Any face-to-face meetings would be held at his residence.

As the negotiations concluded, Wang Zhaomin offered one final piece of advice: for future activities in the county, the transmigrators should stop shaving their heads and wearing short clothes—it drew too much attention. Wen Desi laughed it off at first but later reflected that it might be necessary. Many interactions with gentry and farmers lay ahead, and being too conspicuous would not help their integration.

With matters settled, both sides relaxed, and the drinking became more enjoyable. At the height of their conviviality, Wen Desi presented the gifts he had prepared. For Magistrate Wu: an oval glass mirror. For Secretary Wang: a glass cup. For all other county officials: one freshwater pearl bracelet each—the sort that sold for five yuan at pearl wholesale markets. According to reports from the Guangzhou advance station, their cultured freshwater pearls were proving very popular in the city.

Secretary Wang was naturally delighted. These baldies really understood how things worked.

Since night had fallen and the city gates were closed, Secretary Wang could not return to town. He would stay at Zhang Youfu's. Wen Desi, having concluded his business, was in no hurry to leave either. They still needed to have a proper discussion with their liaison, Zhang Youfu.

(End of Chapter)