Chapter 310: Sweet Port Turbulence — Dust Settles
Third Master Zhu laughed—a hideous, grating sound—and slammed his palm against the table. "Good! You have guts." With that, he seized the porcelain bowl before him and hurled it to shatter beneath the table.
The crash sent shards spinning across the floor, and in the same instant, hurried footsteps thundered from the lower hall.
Twenty or thirty burly men surged from the side rooms, each gripping a wooden cudgel, faces twisted with menace. These were the "boat protection water braves" Zhu An had recruited—many of them former pirates or deserters from the imperial army. Third Master Zhu had intended to use them as a final card should the meeting turn against him: a Banquet at Hongmen, Stage a scene of intimidation, and presume everyone would submit out of fear.
The main gate slammed shut with a resonant clang.
The sugar merchants sat frozen with terror. Some simply collapsed back into their chairs. Wu Yi snapped his mouth shut and tried to edge away. Feng Guangfeng's face went pale, though he held his ground. Zhou Shizhai and Li Biao stepped forward, ready to shield Wen Tong and fight their way out.
"No need." Though Wen Tong felt a tremor of fear, his heart steadied, and something like disdain rose in him. Smashing a cup as a signal, soldiers hidden all around—did Zhu An think this was a storytelling session?
Third Master Zhu laughed thunderously. "By all means, continue! I should 'retreat bravely from the torrent,' should I? Let's ask my brothers whether they agree!"
Wen Tong's expression remained placid. He listened for a moment, then smiled.
"Gentlemen, please—stay calm. Just listen to the gongs in the street."
Everyone pricked up their ears.
Sure enough, from somewhere not far off came the sound: Clang—clang—clang... Seven beats per cycle. They recognized it instantly: the clearing gong that heralded the County Magistrate's procession. The sound traveled from far to near, unmistakably approaching.
While the crowd hesitated, someone pounded heavily on the main gate.
"Why is this door barred in broad daylight? What trickery is this? I am Head Constable Li from the county yamen! Open up!"
The men who had sealed the gate dared not keep it shut. The cudgel-wielding brutes scattered to the sides.
The gate swung open, and Head Constable Li strode in wearing his official uniform. "The County Magistrate has arrived! Manager Wen, lead everyone out to welcome His Honor!"
"Certainly." Wen Tong clasped his hands. "Many thanks, Head Constable Li." As he spoke, Li Biao hurried forward to present a heavy red envelope—containing twenty taels of silver.
"The County Magistrate is here," Wen Tong said with a pleasant smile. "I suggest you withdraw your men, Third Master Zhu, before something happens that proves difficult to explain."
"Let us welcome His Honor at once," Wu Yi proposed eagerly.
"Yes, yes—quickly now."
But Wen Tong showed no urgency to depart.
"Third Master Zhu," he said, his tone almost serene, "your jianghu tricks are useless here. Unless you're prepared to wage open battle right under the County Magistrate's nose. And even if you spent your entire family fortune buying his silence afterward, it wouldn't suffice. You cannot permit that to happen. Nor can you 'restore' anything..." He paused. "Do you know what fu pi means—'restoration'? By your expression, I'd guess not.
"Restoration means returning the old order—regaining the authority of your Haiyi Guild, using it to continue extracting maximum benefit for yourself. But those days are gone forever. Either you quietly collect your belongings and leave, or you insist on clinging to this empty title. If you choose the latter, by all means—summon your water braves to attack. Let's see whether they prove more formidable than Zhao Jijiao or Gu Dachun."
In the seconds that followed, events unfolded in rapid succession. A bodyguard at Third Master Zhu's side lunged, attempting to seize Wen Tong. But Zhou Shizhai moved faster, sweeping the man's legs from under him. Li Biao pounced and drove his fist into the attacker's throat, knocking him unconscious on the spot.
A second man drew a knife from his sleeve. Third Master Zhu shrieked, "No blades!"
Using a knife was a felony—violent crime—and the hall was full of witnesses while the County Magistrate was approaching. Even if the matter could be settled afterward, it would cost a fortune.
But before Zhu could finish worrying, the knife had barely cleared its sheath when Zhou Shizhai struck the would-be assailant in the neck with one hand, kicked him hard in the abdomen with the other. The man slammed headfirst into the wall, bounced off, took two more blows to the stomach, and collapsed in a heap.
Wen Tong exhaled. Zhou Shizhai's martial arts were indeed no exaggeration.
"Different masters employ different men," Wen Tong observed. "Third Master Zhu, was I wrong?"
Third Master Zhu's carefully prepared Banquet at Hongmen had ended before it began, along with his laughable stratagem. Perhaps such tactics weren't quite obsolete in 1629—but they were utterly useless against opponents with four centuries of advanced experience. Beiwei's team had already discovered the ambush during routine reconnaissance, and Chen Tianxiong had made timely arrangements.
Outdated. Though Zhu An's eyes blazed with enough fury to carve Wen Tong into mincemeat, he still understood that those who read the times are the true heroes. His subordinates scattered in an instant. The scene was truly more dramatic than any stage performance. Wen Tong allowed himself a soft sigh of relief.
"Master Zhou's kung fu is impressive."
"Call me 'Comrade.'" Zhou Shizhai brushed the dust from his hands.
Zhu An and his retinue departed in humiliation through the back door just as the magistrate's sedan chair arrived at the front gate. Wen Tong straightened his garments and went out respectfully to receive him.
Inviting the County Magistrate to process to the Haiyi Guild, sit with Wen Tong over tea, and exchange a few courtesies had cost Chen Tianxiong five hundred taels—plus a promise to increase the "regular fees" paid from the sugar industry by fifty percent annually. The price was steep, but it was worth it.
The life of the Haiyi Guild ended that day. The following morning, the county yamen received two petitions: one, a joint application from the twenty member firms to dissolve the Haiyi Guild; the other, a joint application from South China Sugar and twenty industry peers to establish a new Industry Guild. Under South China Sugar's vigorous lobbying, this was already a foregone conclusion. The yamen approved swiftly: Granted as requested.
The Haiyi Guild's plaque was taken down and immediately replaced with that of the Leizhou Sugar Industry Guild.
The remaining assets were likewise transferred to the new Guild. According to South China Sugar's division of labor, the Sugar Industry Guild would be primarily Chang Shide's responsibility. He immediately began liquidating the old Guild's holdings. Wen Qing, who had been studying modern accounting, was put in charge of clearing the books, assisted by clerks familiar with ledger-keeping.
The silver and movable assets in the public account were refunded to each firm according to their contribution shares—including Zhu An's portion. Chang Shide declared that regardless of how much Zhu An had embezzled or misappropriated, he had after all accomplished many things for the Leizhou sugar industry. "One should view a person's merits and faults with a balanced perspective," he said, affecting magnanimity. The money owed to Zhu An would not be short by a single coin.
To demonstrate South China Sugar's absolute impartiality, Chang Shide organized a public election to appoint five sugar merchants as supervisors. The account clearing was conducted with complete transparency; weekly reports were distributed to each sugar firm, detailing which accounts had problems and how they were resolved. This practice of open books and clear organization won universal appreciation. The transmigrators had brought an entirely new atmosphere to the Leizhou sugar industry.
Every employee of the old Haiyi Guild—from managers down to servants—had been appointed by Third Master Zhu himself, either distant relatives or fellow townsmen. All were now given severance pay and dismissed without exception. Those lacking local household registration received extra travel funds.
Chang Shide had initially wanted to retain a few capable hands, but Chen Tianxiong opposed it.
"Even if a few are useful, they're connected to Zhu An in some fashion. If we suspect a man, we don't employ him; if we employ him, we don't suspect him. If we can't fully trust them, we simply shouldn't use them. We'd only be inviting trouble."
"Then just use them without suspicion. I don't believe these minor figures can hold deep affection for Zhu An."
"Old Chang—as they say, 'Righteousness is often found among dog butchers.' These are all Zhu An's friends and longtime associates. However small, they were once beneficiaries. They received his favors. We cannot fail to guard against them."
In the end, everyone was dismissed with silver. These people also understood the wind had shifted, took their money, and dispersed without incident.
The thorniest problem for Chang Shide was the boat protection braves the Haiyi Guild had trained—over thirty men. This lot were either pirates or deserters, their habits atrocious. The Guild had supported them lavishly: five taels monthly, bonuses on the three festivals, extra "travel allowances" for distance traveled on each trip. Their fighting ability was decent, but they had been spoiled into arrogant, silver-addicted mercenaries. Chang Shide knew full well this group was difficult to manage. Hiring them would require immense effort to discipline; not hiring them would turn them into a menace.
Wu Yi, however, said, "Guild Master Chang need not worry about placing these men."
"Oh? Why not?"
"They're directly under Third Master Zhu's personal command. We couldn't touch them if we wanted to." Wu Yi explained that pay, supplies, deployment—everything—was handled by Third Master Zhu himself.
The dues had been paid by everyone, but these men had always been Zhu An's private retainers. Though shipping sugar was theoretically each firm's own business, anyone who didn't use the Zhu family's shipping lines found it extremely difficult to secure protective escorts—Zhu family vessels had priority. For safety's sake, everyone had simply paid an additional shipping fee to Zhu An.
"This lot has only ever had Third Master Zhu in their eyes—never the Haiyi Guild. Let Third Master Zhu deal with them himself." Wu Yi laughed with evident satisfaction.
Chang Shide concurred. But if this group remained on Hai'an Street, they would still represent a force in Zhu An's hands. Zhu An hadn't used them before, but now—desperate—he might well unleash them to cause trouble. The potential threat still needed to be neutralized.
Chang Shide also announced that the rebuilding of Monk Zou's Temple would be financed entirely by South China Sugar. The merchants had expected another assessment; seeing South China Sugar's generosity, their goodwill increased considerably.
Soon a construction crew arrived from Lingao, erected reed-mat barriers around the temple, and began major renovation. Because the project was substantial and would take time, the factory specially renovated a small temple in the county seat for the original sexton to preside over, so he wouldn't lose his livelihood. The sexton, his wife, and the fire-tender Taoist moved happily to their new quarters.
No one expected that the newly renovated Monk Zou's Temple would actually serve as the future Xuwen Intelligence Station. The factory also acquired extensive wasteland around the temple, hiring workers to clear it—reportedly for a charity school and a benevolent hall. These actions further burnished South China Sugar's reputation as public-spirited and righteous throughout Xuwen and Leizhou.
One morning, Feng Guangfeng was seen walking toward a teahouse he frequented when someone observed him speaking with a stranger not far from the entrance. Then Feng Guangfeng climbed into a two-bearer sedan chair and departed northward.
The next morning, his body was found beside a water pond near the factory—on the site of the future workers' village. He had been stabbed dozens of times, perforated like a sieve. The savagery was unmistakable: the killer had been consumed by hatred. Only his face remained intact—as if to ensure easy identification. His mouth was stuffed full of granulated sugar, crammed all the way down his throat.
Zhu An died two days later. By then he had already relocated from Hai'an Street. After Riyicheng Sugar Firm ceased operations, he had moved to his farm estate outside Haikang County seat, continuing to operate his shipping line. That night a great fire consumed the estate. Not a single member of the Zhu family survived.
Thus the storm on Hai'an Street concluded in blood and ashes. Hearing this news, the directors of the transformed Leizhou Sugar Industry Guild scarcely knew whether to rejoice or mourn. Many recalled the Haiyi Guild's thirty-year history—its struggles, its triumphs—and felt a welter of conflicting emotions. Yet this world had unmistakably begun to change.
Feng Guangfeng's death struck South China Sugar hard. Wen Tong, Chen Tianxiong, and Chang Shide had all grown fond of this "outsider" within the Haiyi Guild and had planned to rely heavily on him in the future. His sudden loss was a grievous blow.
Chen Tianxiong blamed himself for a long time afterward—they had focused on protecting the transmigrators and their direct subordinates, never imagining Zhu An would strike at Feng Guangfeng.
"It's because Feng Guangfeng was an outsider," Chen Tianxiong observed. "Zhu An still couldn't bring himself to harm his fellow townsmen—nor did he dare to." He sighed, wondering whether this cultural phenomenon was ultimately good or bad.
"There really isn't much decency among these sugar merchants. The moment Feng Guangfeng died—never mind condolences—they were all calculating how to acquire his firm. His child is young; his widow can't show her face to manage the business. They're clearly preparing to exploit the orphan and widow."
"And her clansmen on her husband's side—they all want to seize the property."
Hearing this, Wen Tong spoke decisively. "Richangji must continue. South China Sugar will preserve this firm for him."
Chang Shide agreed. "He contributed more than anyone to this affair. He cannot end up with nothing. Otherwise, how will others view us in the future?"
"I have three proposals," Chen Tianxiong said. "First: the Sugar Industry Guild will conduct a grand public memorial service. Every member will attend—the highest posthumous honor. Second: the seven thousand shi of sugar has been paid for; the warehouse receipts must be delivered to his family immediately, to provide for his widow. Third: select an honest, reliable clerk from his own firm to manage operations on his behalf. The Sugar Industry Guild will supervise."
(End of Chapter)