Chapter 293: Sweet Port Turbulence — Xiao Zhanfeng

However, approaching this closely was ill-advised. The people gathered here were all acquaintances; two unfamiliar faces appearing suddenly would easily arouse suspicion—never mind actually gathering intelligence. Chen Tianxiong keenly felt that his time here had been too brief; he hadn't achieved the level of "blending in." Not only would locals recognize him as an "outsider" the moment he opened his mouth, but even his mannerisms differed from everyone else's. Every gesture would attract notice. In such a social environment, conducting intelligence work without local assistance was pure fantasy.

Reflecting on this, he couldn't help but admire the secret arrangements President Wen and the others had made in Guangzhou years ago. If not for the Gao family and Qiwei Escort Agency now, the Transmigration Group, isolated and trapped in Lingao, would have struggled for who knows how long to open up the situation. Nothing like the present, where local support was always available.

The two instead rested and took tea at a roadside tea stall half a li from the temple. People came and went in mixed company. Even without asking questions, he could overhear considerable news from nearby conversations.

Fortunately, the recent confrontation between South China and the Haiyi Guild had become major news throughout Xuwen and even Leizhou, and tea stall patrons discussed it most frequently.

The news was mixed, much of it absurd—especially regarding the South China Factory's machinery, which had practically become "monster devices." Though machinery wasn't as rare in the late Ming as during the "prosperous Qing," devices that moved of their own accord without human, water, or wind power, and possessed such tremendous force, still struck many as mysterious and unfathomable.

Second in popularity as a discussion topic was the private lives of the South China gentlemen—especially the relationship with the two Wen brothers, which inspired considerable speculation. Judging from the tea stall's public opinion, those two individuals' posterior anatomies provoked extensive imagination. By contrast, Chang Shide's "feat" of purchasing five women in a single human market transaction went entirely unmentioned.

Just then, someone nearby was expounding with great animation: "...In my view, South China is going to suffer a major setback this time."

Why so? This was a question everyone wanted answered. So far, predictions of South China's downfall had appeared several times. In Xuwen's gambling dens, a new type of betting pool had recently emerged: wagering on whether South China or Haiyi Guild would win this sugar war. Days ago, many kept buying Haiyi Guild to win, but since the purchase price of two taels five qian had held until now, those betting on South China had multiplied. Locals weren't fools—the crushing season lasted only three months, two-thirds of which had passed, yet the warehouses of Haiyi Guild's various sugar trading houses remained empty. Victory was essentially decided.

"You, old brother, only know how to lick Haiyi Guild boots all day. Last time, I don't know who claimed South China's cash flow would collapse within three days—and if it didn't, he'd cut off his 'tool'?" Someone mocked. "I notice you, old man, haven't gone to the capital to register yet!"

"Registering" referred to self-castration by commoners intending to enter the palace—going to the capital to submit themselves as prospective eunuchs and completing the procedures.

Roaring laughter erupted in the tea stall. The mocked party spoke stiffly: "Who knows where they found more silver? I say South China is just lingering on borrowed time."

"Lingering to the point where they tripled their weighing scales to fifteen? Is there such a thing as lingering in this world?"

"Humph!" The teased man refused to concede. "Even if South China has abundant silver, they've lost on public sentiment! Just watch—within three to five days, there will inevitably be civil disturbance!"

"How so?" The other party remained dismissive. "Do you have two 'tools'? No wonder you can't go register!"

Now the tea stall simply erupted with laughter. Everyone clutched their bellies, doubled over; even the waiters and shop assistants wiped away tears of mirth.

The man could no longer maintain composure and said urgently: "Sour Scholar Xiao! Just you watch. South China went against the current in Xuwen, destroying so many livelihoods. Earlier, someone sued them and was dismissed by the Grand Master. But can the matter end there? Sooner or later, it will incite civil disturbance!"

The scholar called Sour Scholar shook his head, laughing. "I advise you to go to the South China Sugar Firm entrance and say these things to the cane farmers. The market price of two taels five qian was forcibly reduced to one tael—and you still have the nerve to claim others 'destroyed livelihoods'?"

"Humph—are there only cane farmers in Xuwen?" The other sneered. "I think you're blind. Which of those people at Zou Monk Temple doesn't hate South China to death? I advise you not to rush to advocate for South China either. In three days, the results will be seen!"

"Three days then!" The scholar snapped his fan shut. "I'd like to see these results. Judging by the quality of Lin Zhuang, whom they elected—this group won't accomplish anything!"

Hearing "Lin Zhuang" mentioned, Chen Tianxiong couldn't help pricking up his ears, hoping for details. Unfortunately, someone intervened to mediate: "You two, you two—such matters have nothing to do with us. Why damage harmony over them? Better drink tea."

With this, the "Lin Zhuang" topic dropped. However, conversation remained fixed on South China. This scholar showed intense interest in South China's machinery, regretting only that South China's gates were heavily guarded—he couldn't get inside to inspect.

"I hear that machine consumes sugarcane bagasse and exhales black smoke and raging fire; it resembles a great furnace," someone said.

"I just don't know what burns in this furnace? What's the purpose of burning it?" He sighed repeatedly. "If only I could see it with my own eyes!"

"It boils water." Someone offered. "I heard people inside say water must be carted in every day. When the time comes, it sprays water vapor. I just don't know what use boiling water like that has for sugar-making."

The speaker had no intent, but the listener took note. Chen Tianxiong nodded inwardly. The ancients possessed observational skills; unfortunately, they lacked several centuries of accumulated knowledge.

"South China's sugar-making is a closely guarded secret. Wanting to enter the sugar factory to see their machinery is wishful thinking?" An old man said. "Speaking just of Leizhou Prefecture, plenty of substantial households plan to do business with South China."

This was new information! Chen Tianxiong thought to himself that the escort masters gathering intelligence remained separated by a layer—moreover, they didn't know what concerned the transmigrators most.

"That's strange. Besides sugar, what other business is there with them?"

"For an establishment as large as South China, just the food and clothing requirements constitute major business!" The old man said. "It's only a pity they've been here such a short time—"

What was pitiful, he didn't need to ask to know. South China's foundation here was very shallow, not to mention its obscure origins. Generally, substantial local business households were prudent. When cultivating relationships with new customers, they first examined whether origins were clear, then observed conduct in the world. Only when both proved satisfactory would they trade—otherwise, they preferred not earning money to inviting trouble.

The duel between South China and the Haiyi Guild appeared to be a matter between two parties, but in reality, all of Leizhou was watching. Considered this way, matters ran deeper than previously realized: South China's presence here served first to make money, second to establish reputation. Though this wasn't a "Liberated Area," it was an important future financial source for the Transmigration Group—the foundation had to be solid. Reflecting on this, Chen Tianxiong became more determined to resolve matters through strategy rather than force.

However, no one mentioned Lin Zhuang again. Chen Tianxiong felt somewhat disappointed. Since that was the case, he would have to inquire directly. From bystanders' conversation, he knew this scholar surnamed Xiao was called Xiao Zhanfeng. This person held a very favorable impression of South China, and what was rare, he was sensible and willing to speak out for justice—a potential recruit. Moreover, his words implied considerable familiarity with Lin Zhuang; perhaps information could be obtained through him.

It was approaching noon, and Xiao Zhanfeng was returning home to eat. Chen Tianxiong signaled Zhou Shizhai. Zhou Shizhai understood: with many people around, approaching him on the street was inconvenient. Better to simply follow him home and then pay a visit.

Immediately, they trailed after him. Chen Tianxiong drank tea alone in the stall, listening to people talk nonsense. Unfortunately, his Leizhou dialect remained quite limited—he couldn't understand more than half—and he resolved to specifically hire someone as a tutor.

After sitting another hour or so, he saw Zhou Shizhai returning. He threw a few copper coins on the table and went out to join him.

Zhou Shizhai whispered that this Xiao actually resided in Xuwen's county seat. This was quite surprising. Why would a county seat resident travel more than ten li to Hai'an Street just to drink tea? Though Xuwen was small, tea houses certainly existed there.

"His home is in the north gate suburb. It looks very dilapidated. I've even learned about his family circumstances."

Current rumors held that Xiao Zhanfeng's parents had died. This person had never attended to proper business, instead constantly commenting on current affairs. His family fortunes were quite dire—to date, he didn't even have a wife.

Since this man was a free agent with no ties, he could be deeply cultivated for their use. Chen Tianxiong made his decision and asked Zhou Shizhai to lead the way so they could visit this scholar together.

Where Scholar Xiao lived was a courtyard on the back street of the gate suburb—a single-family compound. Judging by scale, this had once been a well-to-do family, but now appeared thoroughly dilapidated. The walls hadn't been whitewashed in years; even the gate wall leaned slightly askew. Grass grew from cracks in the ground before the door—a picture of desolate decline.

Zhou Shizhai stepped forward and knocked. A long time passed before someone emerged—wearing an old scholar's robe, bareheaded without a scholar's cap. Though the clothes were old and patched, they were clean and tidy.

Seeing two strangers at his door, Xiao Zhanfeng started in surprise. "Whom are you looking for?"

"Looking for Xiao Zhanfeng."

"I am he. We've never met—might I ask who you are...?" He studied these uninvited guests curiously.

"I've long admired your great name and came specifically to pay respects." Chen Tianxiong offered a conventional pleasantry.

Xiao Zhanfeng's eyes rolled over Chen Tianxiong for a while before he suddenly nodded. "So that's it! Please, come inside."

Chen Tianxiong had originally anticipated refusal and had specially prepared a set of arguments—he was even prepared to force entry. Now that proved unnecessary. His interest in this person increased considerably.

The courtyard was very desolate. A lychee tree grew with spreading branches. Beneath the tree stood a broken table and several bamboo chairs. Tea rested on the table—evidently, though this Xiao Zhanfeng was impoverished, he retained some scholarly refinement.

"Lacking a wife to manage the household, the rooms are in disarray—please sit in the courtyard instead."

After host and guest were seated, before Chen Tianxiong could speak, Xiao Zhanfeng blinked several times and said: "If I'm not mistaken, you two gentlemen are from South China, correct?"

Chen Tianxiong secretly praised his perceptiveness but merely said: "How so?"

"South China's people differ from locals in manner and appearance." Xiao Zhanfeng smiled rather complacently. "You two changed your attire, but the bearing in your movements cannot be changed."

"Oh? I'd appreciate your insight. What about the bearing gives us away?" This was tantamount to virtually admitting he was a South China person.

"What's difficult about that?" Xiao Zhanfeng was quite pleased with himself. "Just the few major shopkeepers of your South China I've seen—none of them resemble merchants. Instead, they carry an air of looking down upon the world."

"Looking down upon the world?" Chen Tianxiong couldn't help laughing. Did they truly all radiate kingly aura? On reflection, modern people were indeed incomparably superior to ancients in self-confidence and self-esteem. Moreover, the transmigrators were all over-nourished; their vigor and spirit were genuinely quite different from natives.

"Since Mr. Xiao—"

"Just call me Zhanfeng."

This was a very gracious gesture. The two exchanged names. Chen Tianxiong knew Ming Dynasty etiquette and asked further: "Might I inquire about your courtesy name?"

"What courtesy name would I have!" Xiao Zhanfeng gave a bitter laugh. "I began my schooling at eight, first sat for the tongsheng examination at fourteen, wasted time until now, and remain merely a tongsheng. What's the point of a courtesy name?" A thought struck him. "You two have arrived, and I haven't even served tea..."

"No formalities necessary." Chen Tianxiong could see from surrounding conditions that Xiao Zhanfeng's circumstances were straitened. Since he intended to recruit him, small favors must be given without leaving traces. Since noon was approaching, why not treat him to a drink? After three cups, the friendship would be different.

"Master Zhou, please trouble yourself to order a few dishes and fetch some wine."

Zhou Shizhai understood that this Australian wanted to cultivate this destitute scholar. Since arriving in Lingao, though he worked silently without commenting on Australian affairs, he could see their ambitions were considerable—he had long harbored his own thoughts. He nodded immediately and asked: "What wine would you prefer?"

"Not Xuwen Liquid—it's too sweet!" Since Chen Tianxiong intended to recruit, naturally he had to invest. "Go to the sugar firm and fetch two bottles of 'National Scholar Unrivaled'!"

"No, absolutely not!" Xiao Zhanfeng's face flushed crimson. "Meeting for the first time, how can I let you spend so much?"

"Friends at first sight." Chen Tianxiong smiled. "I still have matters to consult Brother Zhanfeng about."

Though Xiao Zhanfeng felt it inappropriate, there was only a bowl of cold rice and a few pieces of salted vegetables on his stove—never mind treating guests, it wasn't enough for himself. He also reflected that since the other party was so forthright, why should he be bashful? So he stopped declining.

In less than a moment, Zhou Shizhai returned, bringing a shop assistant carrying a food box. Inside were all manner of cold and hot dishes, quite sumptuous—making Xiao Zhanfeng, who hadn't tasted meat in ages, swallow involuntarily.

"Too extravagant!" He cupped his hands. "Since your honor is so generous, Zhanfeng has nothing to repay. My apologies."

"What's there to be polite about? We're all brothers." Chen Tianxiong had conducted extensive social rounds in his previous life and was well-practiced in relationship-building tactics. After circulating cups and trading toasts, with a few drinks in the stomach, the conversation growing warmer and warmer, he began approaching the main topic.

(End of Chapter)