Chapter 1773 - The Jidi Brothers
"Only, this could cost us a fortune." He Guirong harbored a nagging worry. "The Australians aren't the Ming. Smoothing this over won't be so easy."
Since the Australians had entered the city, they'd been extremely strict about public order. Even trivial cases were handled harshly. For major crimes like murder, arson, and robbery, they showed no mercy. Hiring thugs to commit violence—the Australians would certainly investigate. Once implicated, it would become an enormous lawsuit. It wouldn't be as easy to hush up as under the Ming.
Master Shi spoke confidently: "At a time like this, are we still worried about spending silver? Listen, all of you: what the rice merchants are doing is pulling the rug out from under us. It's vicious beyond measure. Without your ya permits, gentlemen, how will you make a living? In a few years, you'll all be signing up with the Guandi Temple!"
These words struck a nerve. One of them gritted his teeth: "Master Shi is right! Without the ya permits, we're left drinking the northwest wind! A lawsuit, so be it! Even if we have to sell the house, sell the land, sell the wife—we'll get rid of these Teochew-Swatow bastards and buy back our permits!"
He Guirong was moved: "The Counselor is right. This is a matter of life and death for us. Are we going to worry about spending silver? Let's do it!"
His word was final. They resolved on the spot to hire Guandi Temple muscle to attack the Haiyang Guild Hall without delay.
Beggars affiliated with Guandi Temple were everywhere on the streets, but since this was something that flouted the law, the employers couldn't negotiate directly. By custom, there had to be a go-between.
The go-between Master Shi found was convenient indeed: his own brother, Shi Tidi, the chief clerk at the Wenlan Academy. He himself was called Shi Tiji.
Though their names were inauspicious, the Jidi brothers had had no luck whatsoever in the examinations—they hadn't even passed the xiucai level. Their skills lay in crooked dealings, and both had ended up as clerks for hire. Naturally, their kind of clerks weren't respectable; their employers were not proper merchants or gentry.
Because of his master's connections, Shi Tidi was closely linked to the Guandi Temple network. From the Temple down to the various dou dens and their "big bones," he knew almost everyone; he could speak with them. Whenever Shi Tiji needed Guandi Temple muscle for dirty work, his brother made the introductions.
He came to the Wenlan Academy and found Shi Tidi. They shut the door and whispered.
"...This is a golden opportunity. My master says money is no object." Shi Tiji's eyes glittered with greed. "Brother, quote boldly!"
Shi Tidi had been nursing a grudge ever since the Academy's shop side-sheds had been demolished, costing him a nice stream of bribes from the shop managers. He hated the Australians. Now, hearing of this scheme, his spirits rose. It was easy and low-risk. Beating up or even killing a few out-of-town merchants—in Guangzhou, that was nothing.
"Easy," Shi Tidi agreed at once. "But there are quite a few Teochew-Swatow men at the guild-hall right now. We'll need more people."
"That's no problem. However many you need, my master won't stint on the cost." Shi Tiji smiled. "The actual grain merchants number only twelve or thirteen. At most there are twenty or thirty others in the hall."
"We'd need at least a hundred to hold the scene. Teochew-Swatow men are tough fighters." Shi Tidi thought it over. "Two taels per head is standard."
His price was calculated on a hundred men at two taels each—two hundred taels—plus a "gift" of ten taels for the big-bone gang-leaders.
"The big-bones' gratuity can't be skimped. As for the two hundred taels, you don't need to pay in full. Give a hundred twenty to the dou den—how the big-bones divide it is their affair."
"The remaining eighty taels are our take, brother," Shi Tidi said.
Shi Tiji's eyes lit up. "Forty taels apiece—that's a handsome haul!"
As clerks, their legitimate annual income was only seventy or eighty taels; throw in gray income, perhaps a hundred. To pocket forty taels at a stroke was a windfall indeed.
"Heh, that's small change. The big money comes later." Shi Tidi drawled. "Since your master wants blood, a few merchants will die. The case will go to court. But now it's not the Ming. Do you know the Australian rules?"
Shi Tiji hesitated. Under the old regime, once a killing occurred, the government would prosecute. The employer had to prepare for a lawsuit. The perpetrators were supplied by the dou den—seasoned toughs who could endure interrogation. By custom, those men would "turn themselves in," then go through the formality of trial. They'd never confess the truth, and the presiding magistrate wouldn't truly investigate. Yet the full apparatus—hearings, questioning, torture—ran its course.
Before the trial, the employer greased palms up and down the chain: the criminals submitted to some beatings, but nothing crippling. Confessions followed a prepared script; finally, seals were stamped and the case closed. If lives had to be paid, substitute convicts were ready and waiting.
All this cost a great deal. From officials to legal clerks, from punishment-room scribes to runner-chiefs and foot soldiers, down to local headmen—everyone had to be paid off. Miss anyone, and the hearing could go very wrong for the employer.
Now Guangzhou was no longer Ming territory. The Australians ran court cases differently—how exactly, no one knew. The key figures from the old Three Classes and Six Bureaus who had handled such matters were either arrested or dead, and the surviving clerks kept their heads down for the Australians. Organizing this sort of thing suddenly seemed much harder.
"Whatever rules the Australians follow, since ancient times, 'a life for a life' has been heaven's law," Shi Tiji spoke up. "I don't think the Australians are any different. After the deed, we'll prepare a few fall-guys to turn themselves in—that should work. My only worry is that the Australians won't trust a voluntary confession and will torture them. That could be disastrous. Right now, we've got no one inside to look after things!"
Shi Tidi nodded. "Brother's words are true. But I've heard from people who've been to Qiongzhou: the Australians never use torture in trials. As long as the fall-guys stick to their story, it should be fine. At bottom, courts want to clear cases for their performance reviews—and to satisfy the aggrieved. As long as someone pays with his life, the case closes. They probably won't dig too deep."
The brothers discussed. An assault on the Haiyang Guild Hall should plan for at least two fatalities.
"Let's estimate high: say three dead," Shi Tiji said. "Three lives. Sixty taels per life—that's a hundred eighty. We'll tack on twenty taels profit for ourselves..."
"Your arithmetic is off." Shi Tidi shook his head. "Since the Australians arrived, law enforcement's been fierce. Look how many people dangle from the gallows around the city! A hundred-odd men mobbing the Haiyang Guild Hall—the Australians will call it a major case. Three lives won't cover it."
"How many, then?"
"I'd say twelve."
Shi Tiji gasped. Twelve lives—enough to settle a rural clan brawl!
"Don't think it's too many. The Australians follow Legalist politics: swift and decisive. They've just entered the city; their desire to kill for deterrence is at its height. If you don't prepare enough heads, you won't get through."
"Brother—that's over a thousand taels of silver!"
"Your master's about to lose everything. What's a few thousand taels?" Shi Tidi sneered. "Tell him: set aside a thousand taels for buying lives. I'll procure twelve for him, guaranteed no slip-ups. We brothers will skim a bit for ourselves too."
Shi Tiji considered, then clenched his teeth. "Fine. I can make that call. We'll do it your way!"
At the Haiyang Guild Hall, the mood was jubilant. The Teochew-Swatow grain merchants had already heard that the Australians had refused to issue ya-firm licenses. They had known the Australians prided themselves on keeping their word, but they hadn't expected such swift action—the promise made to them was fulfilled at once. Without licenses, the ya-firm privileges were effectively abolished. Armed only with Ming Ministry-of-Revenue ya permits—worthless paper in Guangzhou now—they could no longer lord it over anyone.
"We've suffered years under those ya bastards. Today, at last, we hold our heads high!" Manager Ding, overjoyed at the news, ordered several tables of food and drink, inviting colleagues and fellow-provincials from the guild-hall to celebrate together.
Though the guild-hall administrators weren't grain merchants, they were all Haiyang compatriots. Teochew-Swatow folk prized regional solidarity; when a fellow-provincial succeeded, the leaders were naturally pleased. They joined the banquet and drank a few cups.
The steward was a middle-aged man who had once been an itinerant merchant himself, well-acquainted with their sorrows. After a few drinks, he sighed, "The Australians really are different! In the old days, without thousands of taels laid out beforehand, you couldn't get a firm word from an official. But Director Lin met you once, and the matter's settled—like a dream!"
He Gao added, "We'd calculated that if it could be done, we dozen grain merchants would willingly pool five thousand taels. Who'd have thought it cost not a single fen! Tell that to anyone—they'd think we were talking nonsense." He couldn't help laughing.
The steward said, "Even so, I think some gesture of thanks is in order."
Manager Ding nodded vigorously. "Of course! We can't let them do it for nothing. Besides, Director Lin is the Second Prefect of Guangzhou—we should cultivate the relationship. With that connection, everything will be easier down the line!"
He Gao said, "That's the tricky part. Gifts of treasure? The Australians are famously wealthy—what rare marvel from overseas haven't they seen? How could we catch their eye?"
"I say silver is best. No one rich ever minds more silver," said one merchant.
While they talked, a sudden commotion arose from the front of the hall.
(End of Chapter)