Chapter 655 - Religious Figures

The disposition of military officers and soldier prisoners had been settled. But how to handle the captured scholar-secretaries remained a matter of debate.

Generally speaking, those who held power in this group were, at their core, contemptuous—even hostile—toward all intellectuals of this era, viewing them as useless at best and dangerous at worst: the seedbed for contesting the right to discourse and fomenting rebellion. Although practical necessity had led to implementing "Jasmine Hall work" in Lingao to co-opt local intellectuals, and had even won preliminary approval from the mainstream literati, including Liu Dalin, this new batch was different.

These men had come as enemies accompanying the punitive expedition. Among them were quite a few who had intended to profit in Lingao or implement their schemes of "stabilizing the realm." The transmigrators, regardless of political stance, instinctively viewed them as enemies.

Some demanded their immediate execution; others thought keeping them was pointless but killing them too cruel—better to release them all. But the majority felt that would be letting them off too easily, and called for thorough humiliation before executing the ringleaders in particularly vindictive fashion. Some proposed comprehensive torture; others suggested publicly torturing them in Lingao's Great Stadium, then executing them one by one with theatrical cruelty, afterward sending photographs throughout Guangdong.

Especially with Lü Yizhong now in their hands, the "retribution faction" went wild. Lü Yizhong was terrified enough about what awaited him—had he known what the "bald bandits" were actually planning, he might have died of fright on the spot.

After the BBS discussion of torture and execution reached a fever pitch, Zhou Dongtian—the most skilled in interrogation—offered a dissenting view.

He opposed both vengeful killing and any of the elaborate torture methods being proposed.

His argument: brutal torture and killing would not effectively shatter the psychological defenses of those living under the autocratic imperial system. Such societies practiced cruelty and torture as routine matters; such things would not provoke exceptional fear among any social class.

The experiences of countless revolutionary martyrs and traitors had proven this: physical torment—no matter how exotic—was not a universally effective path. Dialectical materialism teaches that material conditions determine consciousness, and consciousness in turn affects material conditions. The war histories of every dynasty demonstrate that the sturdiest fortresses are most easily conquered from within.

Scholar-officials were not all spineless. Even the Southern Ming regime—where blood flowed freely during audiences with Dorgon—had produced many scholars of unbreakable will who chose to sacrifice themselves for principle.

Massacre might intimidate some, but it would never intimidate all—especially when the other side believed they held the truth. And scholars were precisely those whom Chinese society had always regarded as custodians of truth.

Therefore, Zhou Dongtian argued, attacking the Ming "scholars'" psychological defenses—rather than bolstering their morale—remained the most practical approach for the transmigrators.

Obama had killed Osama bin Laden but dared not return the body to his family, resorting to a secretive sea burial. The Allies had hanged Third Reich war criminals, burned the corpses to ash, then secretly dumped them into a river. The purpose was to prevent anyone from using their remains or relics to propagate their spirit.

An enemy dying as a warrior—whether in battle or by torture—served as a model for both sides. Torturing an enemy of symbolic significance was easy for any regime, but absolutely to be avoided. Torture would only galvanize the opposing side's solidarity—a poor trade.

"The best approach is to 'discredit'!" Zhou Dongtian declared. Nothing was more ideal than ruining the opponent's reputation.

"Everyone knows the vanquished have no power—they can only be disposed of at will. So why does the winning side always hold a tribunal after every war?" Zhou Dongtian said at the meeting. "It's to discredit the opponent, to prevent the enemy from becoming a hero to the losing side. Even if it doesn't fully succeed, partial success is worthwhile. Our approach should be the same."

"I see what Zhou means now," Ding Ding jumped in before Zhou could steal all the thunder. "We should also organize a war crimes tribunal! And distribute transcripts of the interrogations everywhere..."

Ma Jia expressed approval. The concept of trying war criminals was excellent—he liked it, and it would fully demonstrate the role and significance of the Law Society.

"You can hold your war crimes tribunal if you like, but I oppose interrogating Lü Yizhong," Zhou Dongtian said. "Because in the future, he's going to be one of our chess pieces..."

"You can't be serious? That bastard is going to be released?"

"You expect that scum to work for us? That's unbelievable."

"No, here's what I mean." Zhou Dongtian's plan was to immediately begin interrogating Lü Yizhong, extracting every secret and scandal he knew about Guangdong's official circles.

Certain materials would be selectively compiled, focusing mainly on Wang Zunde's decision to go to war. This would expose the internal details of his "unauthorized provocation of hostilities." The materials would be distributed throughout Guangdong by operatives who continued working in Guangzhou.

Once this information leaked, Wang Zunde's already precarious reputation would suffer a fatal blow. He would lose his position as Governor-General faster than the normal timeline. Whoever replaced him, the new governor would surely shift from suppression to pacification.

"That's secondary. The key is that what was once framed as a righteous punitive expedition will become exposed as certain individuals 'provoking hostilities for personal gain.' According to intelligence compiled by the Guangzhou Station, Guangdong's officialdom never fully supported this war. Now, with Lü Yizhong's testimony, many will question whether Guangdong should have launched this campaign at all. In modern terms: we'll sow confusion in their thinking."

Zhou Dongtian's reasoning won majority approval. As for the other secretaries, everyone agreed they could conduct extensive "study tours" in Lingao, then be released after a period to serve as voluntary propagandists for the transmigrators.

"Given the state of the late Ming, I suspect that after a few months of study tours, some will prefer to stay and become our strategists," Yu Eshui joked. "When that happens, you can assign them to me."

Lü Yizhong's fate was thus decided. A few days later, he was taken separately to the Political Security General Administration for private interrogation. Jiang Shan was also very interested in this intelligence source—among all captured civil and military officials, Lü was the closest to the core and most knowledgeable about Guangdong's official circles. Moreover, having been near a provincial governor's confidential affairs for so long, his understanding of bureaucratic operations far exceeded ordinary men.

Zhou Dongtian instructed his apprentice: "Clean and oil all our tools. Anything that contacts skin must be disinfected with alcohol—we can't have infections. Also, go to the general hospital and reserve a nurse with emergency equipment."

He further instructed several "temporary workers" to clean and air out the interrogation and detention rooms.

"We'll be running marathon sessions for the next few days," Zhou Dongtian said. "You can rest up first once you're done cleaning."

"Yes, Chief." The men answered respectfully. These were yamen runners from the constabulary—men renowned for ruthlessness and skill, completely unburdened by psychological hesitation. Zhou Dongtian had selected a few without too much blood debt as retained personnel.

Meanwhile, He Ying was opening a report in his office.

The sender was Zhang Yingchen, who had submitted a request last week to return from Sanya to Lingao for a few days. He Ying had assumed at the time that he must have urgent business—according to his weekly reports, his missionary work in Sanya was proceeding quite smoothly. He had not only successfully entered the Li regions but had converted several hundred Li believers. He had even recruited young Li men and women as "Dao students" for training.

To the Religious Affairs Office:

To contribute to the transmigrators' external propaganda efforts, our unit will hold a memorial service for martyrs who fell in the Qiongshan Campaign and the five innocents who were executed. Attached are the organizational plan and a personnel request form for your approval.

Attachments: 1. Organizational Plan for the Qiongshan Campaign Martyrs and Five Innocents Memorial Service 2. Temporary Transfer Request Form for Lingao Daoist Clergy (Propaganda Department)

Religious Affairs Office, Qiongnan District Director: Zhang Yingchen

He Ying did not immediately understand who these "five innocents" were. His first thought was the "Five Martyrs" of the famous Record of the Five Men's Tombs, but those had nothing to do with the transmigrators and were in distant Suzhou. Why would Lingao hold services for them?

Only when he read the attachment did he realize it referred to the five peddlers who had been beheaded for "sacrificial flags" by imperial troops at Qiongshan. Everyone who had seen the footage shot by the Special Reconnaissance Team knew about this and had discussed how brutal the imperial army was—but no one had connected it to a concept like "the Five Innocents."

"The Rotten Abbot has quite an imagination! A good idea." He Ying chuckled, thinking it was a sound notion. It would highlight the imperial army's cruelty while gilding their own side with a patina of "righteousness." A few days ago, Abbot Wu of the Lingao Church had also submitted a report requesting permission to go to Chengmai to hold a Requiem Mass for the fallen, praying for their souls.

This could be handled together. He Ying thought, and as Abbot Wu had suggested in his report, since they were commemorating the dead, they might as well be generous and include all those who had fallen in the war—to fully demonstrate the benevolence and compassion of the Lingao regime.

The proposal was modified and approved. Ding Ding, as head of the Propaganda Department, fully supported the Religious Affairs Office's plan and pledged full cooperation, including personnel support and necessary funding.

He Ying considered: now that the Catholic Church and the New Daoism were both participating, Buddhist monks should probably be included as well. After all, Buddhism still had considerable influence in China. But the Religious Affairs Office had no qualified monks. Lingao's temples were few and almost entirely in ruins; the few monks there were at best amateur religious figures who knew little beyond "Amitabha" and a few chants.

Fortunately, according to intelligence reports, Chengmai had several temples. They could conscript monks locally to participate in the grand ceremony and pay them afterward. He Ying thought it was time to find a suitable agent in the Buddhist community as well.

While He Ying pondered which transmigrator might be willing to become a monk, Yu Eshui was opening a letter—also from Zhang Yingchen—in an office at the Great Library.

My friend,

Reading your letter was like seeing you in person.

I recently received a report from Li people in Qiongshan County that imperial troops had arrested five Ming subjects who had traded in Lingao and beheaded them for "sacrificial flags" under charges of "collaborating with bandits."

The authorities are willing to play the villain; surely compassion can come from us. To publicize our transmigrator regime's benevolence, I suggest we recover and properly bury these five, erecting a memorial with martyr's honors. I have adapted a draft epitaph based on excerpts from Quan Zuwang's Jieqi Ting Ji, Volume 5. I hope you, as a historian, can revise and polish it.

P.S.: The Li region's brocade is genuinely fine. I was fortunate to receive a bolt from a certain Aoya; it is enclosed.

Your friend, Zhang Yingchen

Attached was Zhang Yingchen's draft epitaph:

The Five Innocents of Qiongshan were those who perished championing public discourse when Governor-General Wang Zunde recklessly raised arms. Their jade shattered like broken orchids, a cause for mourning—yet their righteousness shall not perish!

In the fifth month of the gengwu year, soldiers from eastern Guangdong arose, their disturbances like locusts consuming the land, and the people suffered greatly. Some said, "The calamity of soldiers exceeds that of bandits." When the Governor-General heard this, he seized these five innocents and executed them on charges of "collaborating with bandits."

...

Alas! Since ancient times, many loyal and righteous men have perished in prison. In the past sixty years, factional purges have raged. Xia, Shen, Yang, and Zhang were publicly executed; later, Yang, Zuo, Huang, and Zhou were imprisoned. Though the arch-villains Song and Wei suffered horrific retribution, how many of their minions escaped justice!

Is it any wonder that the Five Innocents of Qiongshan came to such an end?

But who shall dispel this darkness of overturned justice and bring clarity to the world? All benevolent men must share this duty!

Yu Eshui thought the Rotten Abbot's "manufactured heroes" plan was a good idea, but the implementation would require careful consideration. Two of the five peddlers had indeed been their agents—the imperial troops hadn't been wrong, though they hadn't known those two were intelligence operatives dispatched by the Intelligence Bureau.

If they proceeded as the Rotten Abbot proposed, he wondered how the Intelligence Bureau would react. Would they even appreciate it, or see it as mockery? Or might they feel that such publicity would compromise the two agents' covert identities?

After much deliberation, Yu Eshui decided to postpone the plan and consult with the Intelligence Bureau first.

Sunlight filtered through the mist onto the Ma'ao Peninsula.

In a small church recently completed near the Ma'ao Commune headquarters, Abbot Wu and Father Bai were examining their reflections in the large mirror of the rest room.

Their appearance was impeccable. Both wore simple black clerical garb with plain wooden crosses. They presented the perfect image of serious yet compassionate religious professionals.

"Let's go, Father Bai." Wu Shimang nodded with satisfaction at his reflection.

"Yes, Abbot." Bai Duoluo replied respectfully. He somewhat regretted not insisting on becoming the Bishop of Lingao—now he had to act deferential to Wu Shimang.

The two walked slowly out of the rest room. In the chapel, several recently baptized prisoners knelt before the Crucifixion depicted in the stained glass, praying. Seeing the Abbot and Father emerge, they hurried over to request blessings.

Abbot Wu made signs of the cross with an air of practiced solemnity that left Bai Duoluo impressed. He certainly couldn't manage such a natural performance.

The prisoners had arrived at Ma'ao not long ago, and the Church had already made great strides. Several dozen bewildered POWs had been baptized, moving the Jesuit missionary helping here to tears of joy. His evening prayers ran twice as long as usual, nearly crippling Abbot Wu's knees.

But such was the success that the missionary simply refused to leave Ma'ao. The "Grand Memorial" ceremony organized by the Religious Affairs Office would now have to be conducted by Wu Shimang and Bai Duoluo alone.

Besides the two of them, several native believers from the Church would accompany them.

The plan submitted by the Lingao Church and the New Daoism, after revision by the Religious Affairs Office and Propaganda Department, had become the "Grand Memorial"—a religious ceremony in Chengmai to commemorate the fallen on both sides, to win hearts and demonstrate "benevolence."

Zhang Yingchen was waiting by the ox-cart that would take them to Chengmai. These past few months, his face had grown even darker and rougher. His hair had fully grown back into a Daoist topknot. He wore a new blue-gray Daoist robe with crossed collars, a cloth sash at his waist, locally made straw sandals, a bamboo hat, and a basket on his back that seemed full of items.

His face still wore its habitual smile.

Beside him stood a newcomer—a man with the appearance of a seedy middle-aged fellow, also wearing an ill-fitting standard New Daoist robe and carrying a basket.

"This is my assistant, Dai E," Zhang Yingchen introduced. "Brother Dai has also dedicated himself to the New Daoist cause. He'll be coming with us to Chengmai."

The group climbed onto the ox-cart and set off slowly toward Chengmai.

"Daoist Zhang," Bai Duoluo said politely, "aren't you bringing more people? Religious ceremonies are hard to conduct with so few."

"I have several Dao students in Sanya, but they haven't been studying long. They haven't mastered the instruments." Zhang Yingchen said slowly. "I've brought a recorder and amplifier—we'll play CDs for now."

"I recall that a proper jiao ceremony requires many Daoists and elaborate procedures..."

"I've founded the New Daoism. We emphasize simplification and modernization—analogous to the difference between Protestantism and Catholicism." Zhang Yingchen said casually.

In truth, he would have loved to stage a grand and magnificent jiao ceremony, but his Li-born Dao students could barely speak Mandarin, let alone learn Daoist rituals. And preparing the proper vestments and ritual implements on short notice was no easy matter. So he had ultimately decided on "simple" and "solemn" as his guiding principles.

"Actually, I had originally planned only a memorial service for the martyrs' cemetery and the five innocents executed at Qiongshan," Zhang Yingchen adjusted his sleeve. "Since Director He decided to hold a service for all the fallen, that too is a deed of great merit."