Chapter 733 - The Sky-High Price
The would-be peacemakers in the city finally reached consensus after considerable bargaining. Once decided, Gao Ju ordered Manager Yan to be summoned.
This Manager Yan bore the nickname "Yan Little-Hat" because he invariably wore a Six-Direction Unity Cap. The epithet also carried a veiled comment on his character—not a flattering one.
Yan Little-Hat was one of Gao Ju's most trusted confidants. Previously tasked with gathering intelligence on Wen Desi and his group, he had often used various pretexts to cultivate their acquaintance. He was considered an old friend of the Australians, familiar with their affairs and quite clever.
If Shopkeeper Wen and the others had indeed been in the fleet back then, Yan Little-Hat himself would serve as living proof.
Furthermore, Yan had long been removed from the household register; theoretically, he was no longer a Gao family servant. If anything went wrong, severing the connection would be relatively straightforward.
Gao Ju rewarded him with ten taels of silver and ordered him to be lowered over the city wall after dark to proceed to the Australian camp.
Yan Little-Hat felt considerable apprehension. Crossing a war zone to enter an enemy camp was the sort of thing he'd only encountered in old romerta. Rushing in rashly like this might simply get his head lopped off.
"No need to worry," Gao Ju assured him. "The Bandits are Australians—subordinates of Shopkeeper Wen. They all know you. Why would they harm you?"
"It's Master Wen?" Yan Little-Hat couldn't hide his surprise. "They have such powerful firearms?" News of the Australians conquering everything along the Pearl River had spread throughout Guangzhou.
"Those who can create Australian wonders—do you suppose they cannot build a few cannons?" Gao Ju snorted. "Go boldly. I won't treat you unfairly. When you see them, say this..."
He explained the details for arranging the first contact meeting.
"If they're unwilling, bring back their message. Tell me everything exactly as they said it. No written paper allowed—understand?"
"Yes, Master!" Yan said. "But Master, what if Shopkeeper Wen isn't actually with the army—I've heard he's some sort of Australian Prime Minister now—how do I prove my identity?"
"Rest assured, the Australians are probably waiting eagerly for you right now," Gao Ju said with quiet confidence. "They will ask you many questions. Simply answer truthfully—don't lie, don't fabricate. Say what you know; say you don't know what you don't. They will believe you."
"Yes, the lowly one understands." Yan Little-Hat thought his master's confidence seemed somewhat unfounded, but he agreed regardless. He was half a desperado, after all. He understood that successful completion of this mission meant enormous benefits for his future—far beyond a mere ten taels.
Near the third watch, supervised personally by a guerrilla general of the Governor's Green Standard Army guarding the south city, several soldiers lowered Yan Little-Hat over the wall.
Outside was pitch darkness, but the opposite bank of the Pearl River on Henan Island blazed with light—the Australian camp.
Led by a guide who waited below, Yan Little-Hat stumbled to the riverbank, where a fishing boat had been prepared.
Shortly after the boat rowed out past mid-river, it was intercepted by a patrolling Small Fa boat. Two Australian sailors holding machetes and carrying short rifles leaped aboard. They were short and capable, wearing identical blue-and-white short jackets and round wide-brimmed straw hats—strange but remarkably neat attire.
The fishermen kowtowed in terror, afraid to move. Yan Little-Hat summoned his courage and stated his purpose.
"Board our boat. We'll take you." The leading sailor was businesslike. "Are you carrying anything?"
Yan quickly produced a tael of silver. "For the vice-lords to buy a bowl of wine."
"Keep the silver. We don't use it." The leader waved his hand without expression. "You—sit there. Don't move." He pointed to a row of seats at the stern.
"Yes, yes." Yan sat quickly on the fixed wooden bench.
Not accepting silver—truly rare. The Australians must be wealthy, paying their soldiers generously.
A glass lamp hung at the stern, illuminating everything brightly. The boat looked small, seating perhaps a dozen people at most. It appeared to be made of wood. In the center sat a black object topped with an iron chimney like a stove—a wave of heat confirmed his guess.
"Set sail!" the sailor called.
He sat down opposite Yan Little-Hat. The chimney suddenly spewed thick smoke mixed with sparks. Yan felt his body lurch forward, then jerk backward as the small boat emitted a rhythmic putt-putt-putt sound and began moving.
Rumors of bandit boats driven by fire—boats without sails or oars—had long circulated in Guangzhou. Yan Little-Hat hadn't expected to become the first local to enjoy a "fire-wheel boat" ride.
His anxiety gave way to curiosity. Ignoring the darkness, he looked around, examining everything. The sailors seemed accustomed to such curiosity and didn't stop him.
Yan was brought to the headquarters area at a commandeered restaurant and subjected to a thorough body search. Stripped of all objects, he was escorted before Wen Desi.
He recognized Wen Desi immediately. He knelt and kowtowed respectfully, fearing that doubt might cost him his mission—and his life.
Wen Desi remembered him, though not by name.
Yan Little-Hat reported clearly. He was questioned about Gao Ju's age, business, household, and staff; he answered without error. Someone fetched Gao Ju's comprehensive dossier from the Intelligence Bureau, locating Yan Little-Hat's file and photograph to confirm his identity as Gao Ju's manager.
He was then taken to another tent under guard, where specialized personnel discussed details with him.
Yan Little-Hat's rank was too low to require Wen Desi's personal attention. His visit was merely to arrange negotiation preparations, nothing more.
Yan presented Gao Ju's suggestion: the negotiation location should be at a nunnery on Henan Island.
It was agreed. The two sides would meet the following night at the Lotus Vihara on Henan Island. It was close to the city and convenient for both parties.
"What? Gao Ju chose a nunnery for negotiations?" Chen Haiyang was uneasy. "Does he have bad intentions?"
"You don't know the local flavor here—it's not a real nunnery." Wen Desi, a Guangzhou native, was well-versed in the city's historical amusements. "This is a service establishment flying a Buddhist sign. The 'nuns' inside are women who've kept their hair."
"You mean...?" Chen Haiyang hadn't realized Guangzhou history contained such diversions.
"Precisely." Wen Desi nodded. "This business was extremely prosperous in old Guangzhou. A wealthy man like Gao Ju probably dabbled in such things—maybe he's even a patron. That's why he wants to meet there."
"Negotiating in a brothel. Truly wonderful."
"But it's secure. And the comforts inside should be top-notch." Wen Desi smiled. "Perhaps not to our particular tastes, though."
Chen Haiyang summoned the fleet's Political Security Commissioner and ordered security deployed at Lotus Vihara early the next morning.
The following night, Gao Ju arrived as promised, and secret negotiations commenced in the Vihara.
Gao Ju had communicated beforehand with Li Fengjie. The government's primary condition was that the Australian fleet withdraw from the Provincial River—preferably from the Pearl River Estuary entirely. Other details were negotiable, but the withdrawal had to happen quickly. The longer the fleet remained at Bai'etan, the harder Li Fengjie would find it to explain.
Li Fengjie and his advisors believed the Australians had launched their attack in anger over Wang Zunde's "unauthorized border provocation" and Tian Da's closure of the Purple Enterprise. Accordingly, the terms Li Fengjie authorized Gao Ju to offer were modest: the Purple Enterprise could reopen immediately, all seized properties and equipment returned; goods confiscated and sold would be compensated with 10,000 taels; and Australians could trade freely in and out of Guangzhou under a local agent's name, with the government promising not to arrest or ban them.
These three terms, formulated by Li Fengjie and his staff, reflected their belief that overseas merchants sought only the right to trade with the Ming. Granting this should satisfy the Australians—a privilege previously enjoyed only by the Portuguese.
As for returning houses and providing small silver compensation, these were merely tokens to demonstrate Guangdong's "sincerity."
Wen Desi was naturally unsatisfied with such conditions. Nor would the Senate be.
A significant faction within the Senate had envisioned signing something like a Ming version of the Treaty of Nanjing—territory ceded, indemnity paid, five ports opened for commerce.
However, in the Executive Committee's meetings, everyone had agreed this was unrealistic, especially given the Ming's particular historical context. Neither Li Fengjie nor Wang Zunde possessed the audacity to sign such a document. Forcing an unequal treaty would only produce a breakdown and an awkward state of "neither war nor peace."
After extensive deliberation, the Senate had established minimum negotiation requirements:
First, immediate end to hostilities and restoration of normal trade. Lingao's economy was highly dependent on foreign commerce. This was the Pearl River campaign's primary objective.
Second, confirmation that Hong Kong Island and the surrounding outlying islands belonged to the Transmigrators, with government troops forbidden from posing military threats to that area or to ships sailing there.
As for the second point, it needn't appear in a written, signed agreement—a tacit understanding would suffice. A formal territorial cession treaty was something even Chongzhen himself probably wouldn't dare sign.
Wen Desi presented these terms one by one.
There was no objection to the first. But ceding Hong Kong and the surrounding islands far exceeded Gao Ju's mandate.
The Portuguese had expended tremendous effort to secure Macau—and still worried constantly about expulsion. Yet here the Australians opened their mouths demanding Hong Kong and dozens of surrounding islands. Lantau Island alone was larger than Hong Kong Island!
The Ming didn't particularly care about coastal islands, generally allowing them to exist in benign neglect. Li Fengjie and most Guangdong officials probably had no idea how many islands the province contained, let alone their conditions.
But ceding territory violated a supreme Ming taboo.
Gao Ju dared not agree. After pondering for a long moment, he said carefully: "Shopkeeper Wen—whatever goods, money, or servants you want is easily arranged. But this cession of land... the Governor will absolutely never consent."
"This point you can discuss at leisure. We aren't in a hurry." Wen Desi smiled, surveying the meditation room hosting them—clean, elegant, with exquisite snacks arranged on the table. "This place is quite comfortable. We've been cooped up in that small corner Lingao for two or three years. Shouldn't we relax properly here for a few months?"
"Yes, yes, naturally." Gao Ju realized the terms wouldn't come easily. He said he needed to consult Li Fengjie, but expressed hope that the Australians might withdraw from the Provincial River quickly before further consultations, to avoid prolonged martial law in Guangzhou, which made it difficult for the Governor to explain matters to the Court.
"Withdrawing from the Provincial River is acceptable. But we've come all this way—withdrawing on just a word from Elder Gao makes it impossible for us to answer to the Senate."
Gao Ju understood that additional conditions were coming. Regardless, Li Fengjie had made Australian withdrawal his top priority.
Wen Desi's condition: Guangzhou would pay 300,000 taels immediately as a Ransom Fee; the remaining water-braves would be disbanded; and destroyed forts along the route could not be rebuilt.
Once paid, the Task Force would withdraw immediately. Detailed negotiations could continue later, in Macau.
"Three hundred thousand taels?!"
Li Fengjie nearly screamed when he heard the figure.
This was a lion opening its jaws impossibly wide. He had believed that granting trade permission represented immense grace—sufficient to soothe all grievances. He never expected them to demand 300,000 taels in ransom.
The entire Provincial Treasury held only 370,000 taels. Even if he could theoretically pay, he couldn't possibly find a pretext to expense such a massive sum.
He slapped the table, indignant: "They don't know the height of heaven or the depth of earth! Allowing trade is already immense grace! Insatiable! Ignore them—see what they can do! I don't believe their few dozen ships and thousand men can breach Guangzhou with a few cannons!"
Gao Ju remained silent. He also found the terms harsh.
But if Governor Wang hadn't insisted on "Exterminating Bandits," the Australians would still be trading peacefully. If Li Fengjie had acted decisively months ago—dispatching envoys to Lingao rather than stalling—this situation would never have escalated to enemy warships anchored before the city walls.
The government definitely couldn't produce 300,000 taels outright. Gao Ju suspected that even if forced, the burden would fall on wealthy merchants. Throughout this entire "Bandit affair," the Gao family had already been squeezed for no less than 20,000 taels, from "Assisting Rations" to "River Defense Aid." A 300,000-tael hole meant paying thousands more.
Li Fengjie sat in silence with closed eyes for a long time. Then he opened them.
"The Bandits really say they'll withdraw upon payment?"
"Precisely." Gao Ju recounted Wen Desi's conditions in detail. "After withdrawing from the Provincial River, other terms can be discussed gradually in Macau."
Li Fengjie maintained a wooden expression, pondering again. "Do Australians keep their word?"
"Australians founded their nation on commerce. Trust is their foundation."
"But the ancients say no merchant is without treachery," Li Fengjie muttered, apparently forgetting that the tall gentleman before him was himself a "merchant."
Gao Ju sneered inwardly. Li Fengjie was utterly out of options, yet still postured as calm and confident. Officials certainly cultivated thick skins.
There were solutions, but given Gao Ju's position, offering ideas to Li Fengjie would be unwise—it might endanger his own interests. After weighing matters repeatedly, he decided to say nothing and take his leave.
Li Fengjie naturally couldn't conjure a brilliant plan.
The number 300,000 weighed on his heart. He couldn't pay—but if he didn't, these greedy Australians wouldn't withdraw. They were extorting endless food and wealth from the countryside and could stay as long as they pleased.
He summoned his trusted advisors to discuss countermeasures.
Some said the Bandits were merely bluffing and wouldn't actually attack. Some suggested delaying a response to observe their reaction. Others recommended having Gao Ju bargain down the price. Still others proposed the traditional solution: make the wealthy families pay.
He Chengzong remained silent.
Three hundred thousand taels was nothing in Guangzhou's heyday. Simply gathering the major merchants and explaining the crisis would raise it easily.
But circumstances had changed. Within a single year, the wealthy households had been squeezed repeatedly. Forcing them again would prove difficult. These weren't small merchants with thin capital; most had powerful backing among provincial or capital officials. Provoking them was unwise.
After a considerable pause, He Chengzong spoke: "The current plan—asking big households outright—is difficult. The only path is borrowing."
"Borrow?"
"Yes." He Chengzong nodded. "This city could raise not merely 300,000 but 3 million if approached correctly. Summon the major households and explain what's at stake. Then ask each to lend to the government, with government guarantee and appropriate interest. This benefits both public and private—they will agree."
The Governor's Yamen borrowing money represented a solid guarantee. And the request contained an implicit warning against "refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit." The wealthy households would understand.
(End of Chapter)