Chapter 924 – Zhu Zongyuan
At the last moment, the authorities finally dispatched yamen runners, and the disturbance was brought under control. However, after this episode of destruction, the church community was thoroughly shaken. Huang Zhen, Zhang Tian, and the others had also lost their momentum—what had been an upright debate had turned into a violent assault, costing them considerable standing in Hangzhou public opinion. Moreover, the local officials harbored some lingering fear of the influence of Sun Yuanhua and other believing officials and gentry connected to the Church. Having allowed such an incident, they needed some sort of explanation. So they reprimanded Huang Zhen and sent him back to Ningbo under escort.
After this episode, the anti-religion faction was significantly weakened. Public opinion also turned against them: not only did many people disapprove of the assault on the Church, but a wave of anti-Buddhist handbills had appeared on the streets, leaving the anti-religion faction looking thoroughly discredited. Although Zhang Tian submitted A Third Critique of Heaven to the Church, it was the last gasp of a spent force. The Church continued to make no response whatsoever. And so the storm gradually subsided.
Though the storm passed, this prematurely erupted Religious Case of the present timeline had provided rich material and inspiration for local popular entertainment. For a time, all sorts of ballad-singing, storytelling, and even theatrical performances featured various fictionalized versions. It wasn't until both sides pulled strings with the authorities—and the magistrates of Qiantang and Renhe counties dispatched runners to arrest a dozen unlucky performers, putting some in the cangue and flogging others—that this trend was finally suppressed.
For the Hangzhou Station, which had secretly stirred things up and fanned the flames, Daoist Zhang felt somewhat dissatisfied: although this Religious Case had successfully struck at both the Catholic Church and Buddhist forces, the damage to each was quite limited. The Church, despite acquiring the reputation of "not daring to debate," seemed if anything to have strengthened its internal unity. As for the Buddhists, this blow, compared to their existing influence, was like an elephant receiving a punch—it barely ruffled a hair. If New Daoism hoped to gain advantage from this, there was still a long way to go.
Zhang Yingchen discovered that for spreading religion, conducting "healing and helping" work remained far more effective. At least through practicing medicine in Hangzhou, he'd already built up considerable reputation and connections—hadn't Zhang Jue gotten his start the same way back in the day?
It was Zhao Yingong who, because of his "steadfast performance" during this Religious Case, had become a "pillar" of the Hangzhou church community. The Church's attitude toward him was further upgraded: previously they'd merely treated him with extra courtesy because of the Jesuits' letter of introduction; now he was outright one of their own. Not only did Aleni send Nicolas Trigault to Wanbi Bookshop to express thanks, but the believing gentry of the Hangzhou Church also sent servants with their cards and various gifts.
Zhao Yingong reciprocated each gift in kind: his return gifts were the standard tokens of a scholar's friendship—Lingao-printed deluxe editions of Catechism, Essential Prayers Compendium, and Selected Hymns. All were in the Three-Self Chinese version, with parallel Latin text. The printing was exquisite.
Under such favorable conditions, Zhao Yingong seized the opportunity to propose establishing a charitable hall or similar organization locally in Hangzhou. He hoped the Church's gentry members could offer their support.
Running charitable enterprises had been one of the social functions assumed by local gentry in traditional Chinese society—government relief not only arrived slowly but was skimmed at every level, was inefficient, and often came when disaster-stricken areas were already nine-tenths empty. Sometimes the court provided no relief at all, or only a token amount of grain and money. Thus local relief was mostly organized and run by the gentry.
After this incident, the Church was also keen to cultivate goodwill among the common people. They readily agreed to Zhao Yingong's proposal. Both sides settled on this arrangement: the believing gentry would lend their names and help raise some charitable funds; Zhao Yingong would handle fundraising and the actual operations of the "Cihui Hall" (Hall of Compassionate Grace).
Running charitable enterprises, though a normal activity for local gentry, was risky for an "outsider" like Zhao Yingong, who had arrived less than half a year ago. Now that local gentry were stepping forward, dealings with the authorities would be much easier.
This day, Zhao Yingong was in his private residence handling affairs—the Foreign Intelligence Bureau's land and sea branches had successively arrived in position. As head of the Hangzhou Station, he needed to help "Wanyou" and "Run Shi Tang," which were establishing local branches, open up the local scene—after all, future operations would require strong support from both the land and sea branches to function smoothly. Especially a pharmacy like Run Shi Tang, which would need considerable effort to gain a foothold in Hangzhou's fiercely competitive pharmaceutical market. And that kind of support had to come from the gentry—all depending on Zhao Yingong.
In the midst of his busy work, Jiying came to report: a gentleman surnamed Zhu from the Hangzhou church community had come to visit.
"Oh?" Zhao Yingong had been receiving quite a few visitors from the Hangzhou church community lately. For a moment he couldn't recall who it was. Taking the calling card, he saw it was Zhu Zongyuan.
So it's him! Zhao Yingong thought that his visit was to be expected. Among the believing scholars of the late Ming, Zhu Zongyuan could be called the most zealous of them all. His style name was Weicheng, his literary name Guyue. He was a native of Yin County (Ningbo), Zhejiang, but was often active in Hangzhou. He was also a prominent figure in the Hangzhou church community.
"Please show him to the outer study and serve tea." Zhao Yingong set down the documents and pen in his hands, stood up, took a sip of tea to moisten his throat, while Fenghua came over to straighten his clothing.
Zhu Zongyuan was quite young and hadn't yet earned any degree at this time. But he had believed since youth, had exceptional insight into the faith, was proficient in astronomy, "devoted to cultivating virtue" and "wished to rectify the human heart"—a religious zealot with both passion and theory. He had authored two theological works, Answers to Guest's Questions and A Brief Account of Salvation, which held important places in the history of Chinese Catholicism.
Such a person naturally had considerable voice within the Church. For Zhao Yingong, who needed to rely on the Church's strength, this was someone he couldn't afford to slight.
On first seeing him, Zhao Yingong was quite surprised by his youth. He'd been born in 1609, so in 1631 he was only twenty-three—about the age of a recent university graduate in the old timeline.
After exchanging pleasantries, Zhu Zongyuan first thanked Zhao Yingong for his "righteous act of defending the faith" during the Religious Case. Then he began gently urging him to be baptized and join the Church. Fortunately, Zhao Yingong had been hearing such talk frequently lately and had developed a set of deflection methods. After several rounds of verbal tai chi, when Zhu Zongyuan saw that this "Guangdong juren" remained noncommittal, he felt it would be awkward to press further. So he brought up his real purpose.
He took a stack of manuscripts from the book box he'd brought.
"Brother Zhao, please have a look."
Zhao Yingong took the manuscript and skimmed through it, then started in surprise: it was none other than the famous Answers to Guest's Questions from church history. The entire book used a question-and-answer format of "the guest asked Zongyuan"—the logic was clear and well-organized. The book could be roughly divided into ten sections. Besides expounding doctrine, it addressed various conflicts that arose between Catholicism's spread in China and the prevailing social, religious, and intellectual concepts, explaining each one by one. Its purpose was clear: a work of Catholic apologetics written from the faith stance of "one should serve only the Lord," refuting Buddhism, denouncing Daoism, dispelling superstition, and supplementing Confucianism.
Zhao Yingong had only known that this book was authored by Zhu Zongyuan; he hadn't expected that the man had written it at age twenty-three. Truly an extraordinary person.
"Brother Zhu, such talent!" Zhao Yingong exclaimed in admiration. He'd already guessed Zhu's purpose—nine times out of ten, he hoped to be sponsored for the book's printing and publication.
"I dare not claim so," Zhu Zongyuan replied, though he was quite pleased with himself. His intention was indeed for Wanbi Bookshop to woodblock-print and publish this book "to rectify the human heart and defend the holy teaching."
"Of course, of course." Zhao Yingong decided in a moment: he would sponsor it. Even if Wanbi Bookshop didn't print it, other wealthy believers would sponsor its publication.
In this timeline's printing industry, there was no concept of copyright. His investment would simply be the cost of printing; he didn't need to pay Zhu Zongyuan royalties or fees.
The downside was that the book was rather niche—probably not many would buy it. But after this storm, the Hangzhou Church would certainly step up its propaganda efforts, and Zhu Zongyuan's work perfectly fit their needs. He could suggest that the Church bulk-purchase copies for free distribution—that sales volume was basically guaranteed...
Zhao Yingong readily agreed to sponsor the book's printing and distribution. After seeing off the overjoyed Zhu Zongyuan, he paced around his study for a bit, then summoned the naturalized manager currently handling Wanbi Bookshop's printing operations—one Gu Dengbao. From his name alone, one could tell it had been given by a transmigrator. The man's surname really was Gu. He'd been a woodblock engraver by trade. After becoming a naturalized citizen, he'd worked at the Lingao printing plant and had been specially dispatched by Zhou Dongtian to Hangzhou to manage Wanbi Bookshop's printing workshop.
"Have you finished transcribing and organizing the Three Critiques of Heaven and Exposing Falsehoods that I gave you a few days ago?"
"Replying to the master: they've all been cleanly transcribed and are being proofread. They'll be ready for plate-making any day now," Gu Dengbao said. "Master, shall we use lithography again this time?"
"Yes, still lithography." Zhao Yingong nodded and handed over Zhu Zongyuan's manuscript.
"Transcribe this one as quickly as possible and prepare it for printing." Zhao Yingong said. "And the Refutation of Heterodox Learning I gave you—that needs to be proofread and finalized as soon as possible too."
Refutation of Heterodox Learning was a missionary document published by the Church. Zhang Tian's Exposing Falsehoods had been written in response to it. Zhao Yingong had actually prepared a "publishing plan"—he intended to compile a "collected series." Specifically, he would edit and compile all the works involved in this Hangzhou Religious Case into a single collected volume for publication.
He estimated that after this major incident, scholars in Hangzhou and throughout Jiangnan would have keen interest. The series would find a market as soon as it was published. Of course, some appropriate marketing would be needed. Zhao Yingong suddenly realized that although he'd included all the works from the Religious Case in his publishing plan, he lacked a single pamphlet providing a comprehensive account of the entire affair—which would leave readers confused about the whole sequence of events.
I should hire a few unprincipled local scribblers to do this kind of commissioned work, Zhao Yingong said to himself.