Chapter 1396 - Speaking One's Mind
Xihua started. Though Jia Le had said several times that the Master's money "came from unclean sources," she was only a child—whatever she said was merely parroting others' words. Where could she match Hao Yuan's well-founded arguments and rigorous logic? These words struck ruthlessly at the question buried deep in her heart, the one she had been unwilling to probe: Was the Master good or bad, after all?
"What does this have to do with you?" Under the shock, Xihua could not help blurting out.
"The world belongs to the people of the world—not to some Master surnamed Zhao!" Hao Yuan's momentum was pressing, each word driving forward. "Without the common people's farming and weaving, where would the food and clothing of the world's people come from? All of it is the fat and blood of millions of commoners. Since I am a commoner, it has everything to do with me!"
"You're mad!" Xihua had forgotten the attitude she was supposed to maintain—the gradual, carefully calibrated shift toward accepting Hao Yuan's views. But his words fell like storm and rain, battering her thinking until it threatened to crumble. She was, after all, only a fifteen-year-old girl. For a moment, she utterly failed to respond properly.
Hao Yuan smiled coldly. "Whether I am mad or not—time will tell." He lowered his voice and continued. "Miss Xihua, you are a person who has read books and understands reason. I have also heard of your righteous act of stepping forward—I know you are a remarkable woman of benevolence and righteousness. That is precisely why I came to visit you in person today. If you truly wish to take my head, I will bear you no resentment."
Xihua stood, then sat back down. "Speak. What exactly is your purpose?"
Hao Yuan spoke gravely. "Miss Xihua..."
Zhao Yingong raised an eyebrow, frowning. "He really said that?"
"Yes. This servant dares not speak recklessly." Xihua stood before him, appearing somewhat distracted, her spirit unsettled.
This child is still too green, Zhao Yingong thought as he observed her dazed state. He sighed inwardly.
Nevertheless, the content of Xihua's report today had secretly shocked him. Who was this Hao Yuan? Such rhetoric was of course nothing remarkable in modern society, but in the Ming Dynasty of the seventeenth century, it was absolutely not something an ordinary scholar could articulate—at least, it would require a master like Huang Zongxi.
At this moment, Huang Zongxi was still a young man. His theories would only take explicit form gradually, in middle age, after he had failed in his anti-Qing resistance and devoted himself to writing. Could this Hao Yuan be some unknown genius? Zhao Yingong's interest in him intensified.
If the lobbyist sent forward was this formidable, who knew how powerful the figure behind him might be. A layer of cold sweat formed on Zhao Yingong's back. The crisis he faced was evidently far greater than he had estimated.
Matters having reached this point, there was nothing to do but take one step at a time. The urgent priority remained uncovering the black hand behind the scenes as quickly as possible. This Hao Yuan was certainly not some minor underling. If he could open a breakthrough here, catching them all in one net would not be difficult.
"You may agree to him. Plot slowly." Zhao Yingong instructed Xihua. "You are doing very well so far."
"Yes. Thank you, Master."
"You must be attentive. The safety of everyone in the Villa—above and below—is pinned on you alone. Conduct yourself well. You must not fail my trust."
"Yes. This servant will absolutely not disgrace her mission." Xihua lowered her head, speaking in a muted voice.
"Chief," Zhao Tong waited until Xihua had withdrawn, then slipped in quietly through another small door. "The people sent to tail Hao Yuan were intercepted!"
"Intercepted?!" Zhao Yingong's eyelid twitched involuntarily. Though the intelligence apparatus under his command could not compare with Lingao's, it still consisted of seasoned soldiers and capable officers. They had never before suffered such a setback.
"That's right—professionals!" Zhao Tong's expression was taut with tension. "They looked like people from several of the capital's security bureaus!"
The men under Zhao Tong were mostly from the Qiwei Security Bureau system. Though security bureau operations differed somewhat between north and south, the basic methods and modes of action were the same.
Zhao Yingong kept his face wooden and said nothing. People from the capital's security bureaus! The matter was growing increasingly complicated. If the opponent's subordinates had escort from capital security bureaus, then the opponent was very likely a major figure from the capital.
Could it be some powerful figure at court? Or a lawless imperial relative? But such a covert conspiracy—what could they be plotting?
If they intended to extort his property, the approach should have been like the old Guangzhou Station case: courtesy first, soldiers later. Moreover, Zhao Yingong somewhat understood such people—they were mostly overconfident in their own power. To him, a mere Xiucai, they would have no need for such elaborate scheming.
After withdrawing, Xihua did not close her eyes all night. Each time she closed them, Hao Yuan's voice and image returned—as if he still stood before her, speaking with unwavering conviction. She rose early the next morning, body utterly exhausted, but the Villa's affairs could not be set aside for a single day. She forced herself up and back to work.
Several days passed in this manner. On this particular day, she was inspecting the progress of a new classroom construction project at the Charity School. Her heart had been troubled in the intervening days. Hao Yuan's words lingered constantly in her mind. On the other side loomed Zhao Yingong's "weighty responsibility of preserving the Villa."
She felt she had already let Zhao Yingong down. She had not told him the final passage of Hao Yuan's words—the part about why poor people suffered poverty. Hao Yuan had specifically told her when leaving: "This is a secret between us."
From this single phrase, she intuited that Hao Yuan actually knew she was bait. Yet knowing she was bait, he still "walked toward the tiger's mountain," coming to the Villa to persuade her. This moved her by several more degrees.
These two things tangled together left her restless day and night. The pride she had once felt—seeing refugees and refugee children taken in by Cihui Hall gain food and clothing—had vanished entirely.
Xihua completed her circuit of the construction site. Her status was not ordinary; the refugee laborers parted for her one after another, regarding her with expressions of awe and gratitude. This only deepened her turmoil.
At last she finished her inspection and sat down in a room not far from the site, drinking a mouthful of tea to clear her head. Suddenly she saw Hao Yuan walking over with a smile. He was dressed exactly as on that previous day—the image of a senior shop assistant.
"Is Miss Xihua always well?"
"Well." Xihua nodded. For reasons she could not articulate, she now felt both a little fear and a little desire to see this man.
To think he could risk such extraordinary danger for her, coming here repeatedly to meet with her. What weight did he place upon her?
The thought brought heat to her cheeks.
"These are the newly arrived goods I mentioned some days ago. Would Miss Xihua care to examine them?" Hao Yuan's smile was precisely like an assistant's—exceedingly attentive.
Xihua accepted the sample book he offered, opened it pretending to read, and whispered: "Why have you come again?"
"Is Miss unwilling to see me?"
"Even if you could speak flowers down from heaven, do you possess the ability to overturn heaven and earth?" Xihua fought down the tension in her heart, sipping tea as she asked.
"I naturally do not."
"Then this Great Benevolence, Great Righteousness, this Way you speak of, this theory of making the poor people rise up—it is merely a castle in the air, fishing for the moon in water. Where do you even begin?"
Hao Yuan smiled faintly and turned to a page. "Miss, please look here. This straw sandal is extremely fine, the price also cheap—very suitable for use here. The price is negotiable..."
He waited until passersby had walked a safe distance away, then continued: "...The world's common people have suffered exploitation not for just a day. To overturn heaven and earth—how can one person, one generation, accomplish it?" Though his smiling face differed completely from the tone of his speech, he chanted slowly: "Peaks gather like assembly, waves rage like fury..."
Zhang Yanghao's Nostalgia at Tong Pass was not unfamiliar to Xihua, daughter of a scholar's household. When she had read it before, she had felt only the vicissitudes of worldly affairs. But hearing Hao Yuan recite it now, the feeling was entirely different. Associating it with her own life experiences, she could not help but feel her heart sour. Her eyes had already grown wet.
Just then, a servant came to ask for instructions. Xihua handled the matter in two or three sentences—either refusing or approving—disposing of it properly within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
Hao Yuan then continued:
"Though you may now have brocade clothes and jade food, holding great power in this Phoenix Mountain Villa, accomplishing many important things for Zhao Yingong—seemingly trusted heavily, your prospects boundless—how many young ladies of great households cannot achieve what you have done? Never mind the daughters of wealthy families; even many men running businesses outside cannot match you. And yet before Zhao Yingong, you must still kneel on both knees, calling yourself 'servant' in your own mouth..." Hao Yuan gave her a meaningful look. "Zhao Yingong has indeed performed countless good deeds and saved countless lives, yet he requires the multitude to sell themselves as slaves in repayment. Consider how much silver each picul of raw silk from the filature brings in. The female workers inside are all Villa slaves; the labor wages and provisions given them are trivial... You tell me: is he Great Benevolence and Great Righteousness—or selfish and self-serving?"
"If he did not open the factory, did not take in slaves—would they not all starve to death?" Xihua resisted weakly.
"That's precisely right—he has done good deeds and saved countless lives. But his good deeds were not done for benevolence and righteousness; they were done for his own private profit. It is like commerce: everyone is selling, and he, Zhao Yingong, is buying. Only Master Zhao is the great buyer. How to sell, at what price—he alone decides. Whoever refuses to sell, he simply starves to death."
Xihua's face went slack. Hao Yuan struck while the iron was hot: "Liu Ya'er in the filature—you know her."
"I know her. A very bitter child. Her family's land was seized by a creditor; with no way out, the whole family committed suicide. Only she was saved by a neighbor and sent here."
"Liu Ya'er's family were sericulture farmers, originally getting by. They were nowhere near the point of having their land seized. It was entirely because of a Harmonious Purchase Order from the government that they went bankrupt—the entire family driven to suicide with no way out. Do you know whose idea this Harmonious Purchase Order was?!"
Xihua felt the sky spin and the earth turn before her eyes. She hastened to steady herself. She had heard vague rumors about this matter—talk that Hangzhou Prefecture's disaster relief this year had been done well, all thanks to the Master, who as a Famine Relief Bureau committee member had given the Prefect this idea, raising a large sum of silver.
(End of this chapter)