Chapter 1345 – Audience

Huang Hua held the reins lightly with both hands, letting his body rise and fall with the horse's rhythm as Nick had taught him. He sat steady in the saddle, though the unfamiliar design—not the modern style used in Lingao—made him slightly uneasy.

He observed the cavalrymen surrounding him. Though none stood tall, their frames were sturdy—far more robust than most Ming soldiers he had encountered. Clearly the Eight Banners troops could at least eat their fill; their fearsome combat effectiveness came as no surprise. Those short, powerfully built soldiers had dark-weathered complexions, and many faces bore the traces of a hundred battles: scar upon scar. Their silence took on a ferocious cast.

Fully armored on horseback, they moved with complete ease. While riding, they scarcely touched the reins, guiding their mounts purely by knee pressure. Their horsemanship far exceeded that of his own Garrison Battalion soldiers—soldiers who had, after all, undergone Nick's specialized training.

If it ever came to one-on-one mounted combat with cold steel, Lingao's trained cavalry could never match them. Though Huang Hua knew the General Staff did not rate the Later Jin army's fighting power highly, and though he was familiar with Napoleon's exposition on the difference between irregular and regular cavalry, truly facing soldiers tempered by countless trials of blood and fire still stirred an involuntary sense of dread.

He forced himself to remain calm, mocking himself silently: In essence, I really am just a small merchant. Had I arrived in this world alone, I'd probably have ended up a starving corpse or a bondservant long ago.

Escorted by cavalry, the party was led outside the net-wall encircling the Imperial Tent. There they dismounted to await the audience.

At that moment, a Later Jin official outside the tent could be heard loudly announcing something in Manchu. Huang Hua understood none of it, but guessed it was the report of his arrival.

A Manchu official and a Han official emerged to the entrance to welcome Huang Hua and his party.

His guards could not enter the net-wall. From the gate to the tent-palace, two lines of Bayara stood at attention, guarding in stern silence. Around the entire curtained enclosure reigned an atmosphere of solemn stillness. Full ceremonial guards were arrayed outside the tent-palace itself.

"Please unbuckle your sword, my Lord," the Han official reminded him.

Huang Hua undid the sash of the command saber at his waist and handed it to a soldier beside him. He drew a deep breath.

"Please lead the way."

With that, he followed the two officials slowly toward the tent-palace.

He had expected Huang Taiji to be seated stiffly inside—perhaps even staging a sudden show of authority to intimidate him. His heart was one hundred and twenty percent prepared for anything. In truth, he was prepared to die.

Yet none of that came to pass. When he was still about a zhang from the tent-palace, Huang Taiji emerged in person to greet him. Before Huang Hua could react, the Khan had already performed the embrace greeting with him.

The gesture gave the vigilant Huang Hua a tremendous start. Fortunately, years of rolling around in the business world had equipped him with ample social experience; he managed not to lose his composure.

After they entered the tent-palace, Huang Taiji took his seat. Huang Hua was guided by the clerks to the audience position, where he performed the three-bow ritual. Then Huang Taiji spoke a few sentences in Manchu, and immediately the officiating Han official conveyed the order to grant Huang Hua a seat. A stool not much higher than a footstool was brought over. The 1.8-meter-tall Huang Hua felt distinctly cramped sitting on it.

Even so, his perception of Huang Taiji had shifted significantly. He had pictured the man as a barbarian chief—a cruel, emotionless, middle-aged brawler. But in that moment of embrace, he had felt unexpectedly moved. He reminded himself sharply that this was Huang Taiji's technique for winning hearts; he must not adopt the loser's mentality in which a superior giving him a kind word or a moment's respect filled him with overwhelming excitement.

Huang Taiji really is a figure, he thought. Just this willingness to lower himself to win people over is something no ordinary man can manage. No wonder the Three Shun Princes—men who, in the original timeline, harbored deep blood feuds with the Manchus and were unruly by nature—ended up bowing their heads in obedience, serving as Manchu Qing's foremost enforcers.

Huang Taiji seemed very interested in Huang Hua's clothing, looking him up and down several times before speaking. He could speak Chinese, but throughout the audience he used only Manchu, translated by Board of Rites clerks.

He first inquired about Huang Hua's origins and intentions. This was all prepared material. Huang Hua proceeded to embellish the so-called "Great Australia," mentioning that they had already established "prefectures and counties" on "various coastal islands" and lacked only population. They hoped to trade with Later Jin to obtain people.

Population was the chief "commodity" the Senate intended to extract from Later Jin through trade. Though population transit stations had already been set up in Shandong, northern Jiangsu, and northern Zhejiang, and the mass arrivals following Operation Engine had alleviated the labor shortage, trade had to have a motive—otherwise it became mere aid. The Planning Commission would never agree to that, and Huang Taiji himself would grow suspicious.

For the Senate, the Manchu Qing's principal utility was as a magnet, firmly attracting the Great Ming's attention and resources. As long as Manchu Qing made trouble, the Ming lacked the financial and military strength to pay attention to the "Pirate Raiders" far away in Liangguang. Once the First Five-Year Plan concluded, the Senate would inevitably expand into the Liangguang region. The "Ming skin, Australian heart" model could not possibly continue across such a vast territory. Letting Manchu Qing create turmoil to buy time for consolidating Liangguang was the optimal containment strategy.

On the whole, the Senate did not incline toward achieving goals through expensive warfare. If Manchu Qing's containment could pressure the Ming court into compromising with the Senate, so much the better.

Compared to that grand design, other commodities obtained through trade—apart from horses and population—counted for little.

Huang Taiji's brow furrowed slightly when he heard the other side wanted "living mouths"—captives—and horses. Population and horses had always been the resources the Later Jin regime valued most.

Though Manchu Qing had captured vast numbers of "living mouths" in past campaigns, those captives had mostly been distributed to Eight Banners nobles and soldiers for agricultural labor and servitude. No recent incursions into China proper meant no ready supply of captives for trade. They would have to be requisitioned from various estates and households.

Horses, however, presented an easier problem. Though the number of horses bred between the White Mountains and Black Waters was considerable, the Jurchens were fundamentally a fishing-and-hunting people, not nomadic herders. Their horse inventory was limited; normally they even had to buy—or forcibly requisition—horses from Mongolia to supply the army.

But sourcing horses was simpler to resolve than population. As long as sufficient goods could be imported from Great Australia, purchasing horses from the Mongols would pose no difficulty—they could even eat the markup. Thus Huang Taiji was relatively positive about the proposal.

While conversing with Huang Hua, Huang Taiji studied this "Great Australian." It was the first time he had seen such attire. Koreans were common enough in his realm—the first invasion of Korea had brought back legions of captives. Japanese occasionally "drifted in" after getting lost or encountering storms at sea. Only this Great Australian—apart from looking exactly like a Han Chinese—dressed, spoke, and conducted himself in ways unlike anyone Huang Taiji had ever met. He swiftly concluded that these so-called "Great Australians" were decidedly not some Ming sea lord's "false front," as several of his ministers had speculated. They were, in all probability, a powerful force from overseas—akin to the Westerners currently casting cannons and drilling troops for the Great Ming.

Huang Taiji asked many questions: types and quantities of goods to be supplied, the approximate length of the trade cycle. Huang Hua could see that the other side had done their homework; clearly they attached great importance to trade with his group.

He made particular mention of armor supply and inquired about the possibility of purchasing grain and "those Hongyi cannons used on your ships." Huang Hua gave full assurances on armor. As for Hongyi cannons, uncertain of the Senate's final decision, he could only be vague—the matter would require further discussion. On grain, he said that since Great Australia itself was short of the commodity, selling it was extremely difficult.

"If you can persuade the nobles of your honorable country to sell Us grain and Hongyi cannons, We will not only pay handsomely for their value but will certainly reward you heavily as well: beautiful women, handsome pages, fine horses, beautiful jade—take your pick." Huang Taiji smiled.

"Many thanks for the Great Khan's kindness," Huang Hua replied. "Allow me to report this matter upon my return."

Huang Taiji nodded. "You Great Australians come here seeking nothing but profit. Though such pursuits are minor branches, We commend you for braving the oceans and waves to venture here. As long as you bring goods Our Dynasty needs, We will absolutely not treat you unfairly."

Huang Hua could only murmur his thanks.

Huang Taiji ordered ke-shi—favors in the form of Manchu pastries like sachima—bestowed on Huang Hua. He then asked several questions about the situation aboard the Haitian, mentioning that he had already sent orders to Zhenjiang Fort to supply provisions for the ship.

As for the incident in which both sides had briefly exchanged fire, he did not utter a word.

At last he said: "Let it be done this way. Return and rest first. Tomorrow We will dispatch officials from the Board of Revenue to discuss the details with you. We still have a hunt to attend; you may all withdraw."

Huang Hua was led to a nearby tent to rest. Though it was already midday, Manchu Qing—like most Han commoners inside the passes—ate only two meals a day. This habit persisted even for Manchu emperors after they entered China proper. Huang Hua's stomach was rumbling, so he stuffed himself with the ke-shi that had been delivered. The taste was not bad—the sticky millet bean buns were especially pleasant—though the sweetness was peculiar, seeming to use honey rather than sugar.

In the afternoon he was summoned to Huang Taiji's side again to observe the Eight Banners' hunt.

Horns answered one another from every direction. Thousands of Eight Banners soldiers and bondservants, organized by banner color, beat drums, fired signal cannons, waved flags, and shouted as they closed in from all sides. Birds and beasts hidden in the grass were startled into flight and panicked scattering. Following the drum and flag signals, each unit charged into the hunting ground in sequence, drawing bows and loosing arrows at the flushed game.