Chapter 1284 Stratagem in Jinjiang
"Where is the General's body now?" Qian Taichong considered this question paramount.
"I preserved the General's head with lime when I escaped ashore and hid it in a secret place at the mouth of the Jiulong River. As for the body left on Xiamen Island—I don't know whether the Kun bandits desecrated it."
After "recovering the lost territory," the generals had indeed searched for Zheng Zhilong's remains. But the Japanese mercenaries who had accompanied him in his final stand were either dead or captured. Those who had escaped followed Tong Tailang to Jinjiang—and since no one cared about Zheng Sen, no one thought to ask Tong Tailang. The generals found nothing. With time, the matter was forgotten. After all, the immediate struggle for power and profit demanded more urgent attention.
"This simplifies matters considerably." The body's absence was regrettable, Qian Taichong reflected, but so long as the head remained, they could work with it.
Fools. Bumpkins.
Inwardly, Qian Taichong scorned the Zheng generals. They knew only how to claw after power and profit, still blinded by the merchant's myopia—chasing immediate gains while ignoring everything else. They had given no thought to the political significance of burying Zheng Zhilong properly. The General was no common nobody; he had been a commissioned military officer of the Imperial Court. Hosting his funeral would be tantamount to announcing to the world that the host was Zheng Zhilong's heir. The funeral procession itself carried immeasurable symbolic weight.
"Send a careful man to retrieve the General's remains quietly from the mouth of the Jiulong River." Qian Taichong gave his instructions. "Everything must be done in secret."
"I understand."
"Tomorrow I travel to Fuzhou to seek an audience with His Excellency the Governor. You must protect the young master well here in my absence." He paused. "Do not go out. Minimize contact with others. And say nothing of the Governor's whereabouts or mine."
Tong Tailang nodded solemnly.
Qian Taichong's journey to Fuzhou proceeded smoothly. When Zou Weilian learned that someone had brought news of Zheng Zhilong's legitimate son, he gave immediate orders for a personal audience. Upon hearing that Zheng Sen had escaped the Kun bandits and was currently residing at the Jinjiang County School, his delight was evident. He praised Qian Taichong, Tong Tailang, and the others as "commendable for their loyalty and courage," expressed profound condolences for Zheng Zhilong's death, and then inquired when the funeral arrangements would be made—so that he might attend in person to offer condolences.
"After the General fell, his remains were desecrated by the Kun bandits. Only his head was desperately brought out by his subordinate, General Tong. It is presently enshrined in a temple while we prepare to select a date for offering sacrifices and opening the mourning hall..."
"This matter should not be delayed." Zou Weilian's brow furrowed. "Since the General died for his country, he ought to be laid to rest without further delay. Nearly a month has passed, and the mourning hall has not yet been opened—speaking frankly, rumor in government and public circles is not favorable."
Filial piety was the first of all virtues. Zheng Zhilong had been dead almost a month, and the Zheng family generals had "recovered" every location throughout Zhangzhou Bay—yet not even whispers of a funeral procession had emerged. Was that not absurd? If this were an ordinary official family, the censors would certainly file impeachments the moment word reached them.
Qian Taichong had anticipated this. He wiped his eyes, feigning heartbreak, and sketched Zheng Sen's current predicament:
"...Young Master Sen now lives at another's mercy. Even a meal or a cup of tea depends on others' pleasure—let alone hosting a funeral or opening a mourning hall." Tears spilled—half genuine sentiment, half calculated affectation. Suddenly he rose from his chair, swept back his robe, and dropped to his knees in a full formal salute. "I beg Your Excellency to render judgment for Young Master Sen!"
Attendants hurried to help him up. Zou Weilian declared immediately that he would "render judgment" for Zheng Sen.
The Governor's followers were greatly surprised that day. Not only did His Excellency personally meet this shabby-looking scholar, but the two "conversed with great pleasure." In the end, the Governor dismissed his servants entirely, and the two spoke in private in the warm pavilion until the lamps were lit.
Qian Taichong returned to Jinjiang County seat with ambition swelling in his chest. Just as he had estimated, Zou Weilian was keenly interested in supporting Zheng Sen to restrain the Zheng generals. The Governor had not only conversed warmly and offered ample verbal assurances—he had produced tangible commitments.
First: expedite the implementation of Zheng Sen's succession. Qian Taichong had already drafted Zheng Zhilong's "final memorial" and asked the Governor to submit it on his behalf. As for the formal procedures, Zou Weilian's own advisors would handle them; the matter could be concluded swiftly.
Second: Zou Weilian promised that once Zheng Zhilong's funeral was held, he would personally lead the provincial high officials in attendance to offer sacrifices—a full display of the Fujian bureaucracy's support for Zheng Sen. Simultaneously, he would dispatch private letters to the Prefect of Zhangzhou and the magistrates of subordinate counties, requesting they extend Qian Taichong every convenience.
Third: he pledged financial and even military support to ensure the legitimate son of the Zheng family could smoothly inherit the position of family head.
"This is Squad Leader Cao." Zou Weilian summoned an officer from the Governor's Standard Battalion. "Do not be deceived by his youth. He is a man of loyalty and valor..."
Qian Taichong studied the young officer. Burly and sturdy, with a round face, pointed chin, sparse whiskers, upturned nostrils, and small eyes—he looked quite capable. Something about him seemed familiar, as though they had met before.
"Squad Leader Cao once accompanied General He on the campaign against the Kun bandits. Beneath the walls of Chengmai, when our forces met disaster, it was Squad Leader Cao's desperate rearguard action that allowed Commander-in-Chief He to escape the Kun's encirclement." Zou Weilian smiled.
Suddenly Qian Taichong understood: this young officer, like himself, was a survivor of the Chengmai defeat.
"This humble general is unworthy of such praise!"
"Speak no more of the past." Zou Weilian waved a dismissive hand. "This is Mr. Qian. You will work together henceforth to defend our Fujian coastal frontier."
Both men voiced their assent.
"Tomorrow I will issue orders to transfer Squad Leader Cao with one hundred soldiers to Jinjiang, where he will secretly assist you." Zou Weilian smiled. "You must cooperate with one heart."
"Yes—thank you, Your Excellency!"
Though an additional "supervisor" now accompanied him, Qian Taichong considered it no great problem. They were currently weak and genuinely needed manpower. Besides, Cao Xiangjiao was the Governor's man—useful for bolstering their façade.
Tong Tailang, however, harbored resentment. Like most in the Zheng Group, he instinctively mistrusted the government. But Qian Taichong explained that to secure the Governor's support, such minor concessions were necessary. Moreover, having someone from the Governor's side present in Jinjiang City would give other factions pause if they harbored any "intentions detrimental to the child."
"We are very weak. To rely on the Governor's power, we must compromise for the greater good." Qian Taichong spoke patiently. He understood that Tong Tailang was that rarest of men—one who combined loyalty and righteousness and would risk life and death for what he believed just. In the future, he would inevitably become a trusted general at Zheng Sen's side. To help Zheng Sen regroup, Qian Taichong needed to cultivate this relationship carefully. "As the saying goes: lack of forbearance in small matters upsets great plans. We must endure."
After Qian Taichong met with Zou Weilian, the previously indifferent Jinjiang Magistrate suddenly became enthusiastic. Not only did messengers arrive every few days with rice and firewood, but the magistrate also indicated they could remain in the county school as long as they wished—there would be no more urging to vacate. Their circumstances improved dramatically.
This gratified Tong Tailang's group immensely. More than that, Qian Taichong's standing soared among the stragglers who had hidden in the county school with nowhere else to go. One after another, they "actively drew closer to the organization."
Qian Taichong was satisfied, though he knew Jinjiang County seat had never been Zheng family territory. Their presence here could only be temporary—it could not serve as a base for rebuilding. They needed to seize a territory of their own in Zhangzhou Bay.
"We must retake Anping." His voice was quiet but resolute.
Anping was the logical choice. It had been the center of Zheng family power—site of Zheng Zhilong's mansion, the clan's ancestral graves, and its ancestral hall. Zheng Sen's re-entry into Anping carried self-evident symbolic significance. It would hold powerful appeal for Zheng clan members and generals currently scattered and sidelined, lacking the strength to participate in the Zhangzhou Bay power struggle.
Once Anping was secured, the young master would claim the "orthodoxy" of the Zheng Group. Combined with Zou Weilian's official "endorsement," he would hold half the strategic ground in terms of both legitimacy and moral tradition.
From an economic standpoint, Anping was an important trading port for commerce with Japan. Many Anhai ships bound for Japan departed from its docks. Seizing Anping meant grasping a considerable share of the Japan trade. Ships that had been at sea during the attack would likely choose to defect to the young master. Maritime power and economic strength would follow naturally.
Tong Tailang voiced no objection to targeting Anping—only a note of concern:
"Our forces are insufficient. Victory will require surprise."
He had long coveted Anping, so close at hand. He had been sending scouts to investigate. Zheng Zhiguan commanded several hundred household soldiers and personal guards, plus over a thousand armed tenants—all on constant watch against invasion by the other generals. Capturing Anping with the three hundred ragtag stragglers under Tong Tailang would be difficult. Of course, with proper planning, opportunity existed. Japanese samurai mercenaries like Tong Tailang excelled at small-scale combat and surprise attacks; they were bold to the point of recklessness.
"We cannot use force." Qian Taichong's voice was calm but firm. "Zheng Zhiguan and the young master are uncle and nephew. We must leave no handle for gossip." He paused. "We shall retake Anping peacefully."
"Though Anping lies in ruins now, Zheng Zhiguan made excuses over a mere farm in Jinjiang County. Do you truly think he will surrender the city?"
"The Winter Clothing Festival falls on the first day of the tenth lunar month—November 12th, 1632. The Zheng family ancestral hall has always held sacrificial ceremonies and burned winter clothes for the ancestors on that day. As the legitimate son who has inherited the hereditary position, Young Master Sen is obligated by custom to return to the ancestral hall and preside over the sacrificial ceremony. Even if he is too young to handle affairs directly, he must be present." Qian Taichong's voice carried quiet certainty. "We shall return to Anping in the name of ancestor worship."
"What if Zheng Zhiguan obstructs us?"
"He would not dare. Otherwise he places himself in a position of 'disloyalty and unfilial piety.' Even if he fled to sea as a pirate afterward, he would never live it down. At that point, we will enumerate his ten major crimes—the virtuous attacking the wicked, open and honorable, with just title and righteous words!"
(End of this chapter)