Chapter 1854 - Ancestral Brother

"The only difficulty is that the roads are impassable! The region around Guangfu has descended into chaos. The counties under Australian military control are more or less orderly, but the moment one leaves Australian territory, villagers and brigands run amok everywhere. By land, whether heading toward Hunan, Jiangxi, or Fujian, nowhere is safe. Under these circumstances, the only way to reach Jiangnan is by the Australian sea route to Shanghai." At this point, Liang Cunhou could not suppress a strange feeling of irony. He sighed softly and continued, "Whether the Australians conduct rigorous inspection of passengers, I cannot say—taking the sea route may prove even more dangerous than traveling overland..." Having said enough, Liang Cunhou fixed his gaze intently on Huang Bingkun.

Huang Bingkun hesitated, mulling it over. Earlier, Liang Cunhou had proposed that he infiltrate the more remote counties to raise righteous forces in rebellion. That plan had subsequently been abandoned. As it turned out, though the Australians had gained nominal submission of the outlying counties through proclamation alone, public order in those areas had completely broken down.

The temporary disappearance of government authority had erased what little respect remained for "the king's law." Everywhere, opportunists sought to profit from the chaos; rural landlords and lineages fortified villages and trained militia for self-defense. In an instant, the countryside was crawling with all manner of "forces"—bandits, village clans, local strongmen. Old grudges and new feuds erupted all at once, plunging the rural areas into internecine warfare. Passenger boats on the inland waterways connecting Guangzhou to the Pearl River Delta ceased operation entirely. Overland travel was equally perilous. The contacts Liang Cunhou had prepared in the outlying counties had been cut off by the breakdown of communications. No matter how lofty his aspirations, Huang Bingkun dared not march blindly into certain death. He had no choice but to remain at the Liang estate, whiling away the time. His only diversion was lecturing the Jade Source Society members on "Australian studies" and recounting his experiences in Lingao and Qiongzhou.

Liang Cunhou occasionally attended these lectures; otherwise, he was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew what occupied him. The Liang household servants were uniformly tight-lipped about their master's affairs. Huang Bingkun thus lived under what amounted to house arrest.

Recently, the various "public order rectification" efforts had made some progress. At the very least, the roads and river transport in the counties around Guangzhou had become reasonably safe, and armed escort services were now available even in more remote areas. Only now could the plan be resumed. Huang Bingkun had mentioned this to Liang Cunhou before, but nothing had come of it. He never expected that Liang now wanted him to go to Jiangnan and seek aid there!

In his heart, he had no desire to go begging in Jiangnan. He could well imagine the experience—pressing a warm face against cold buttocks, reciting nothing but woeful tidings. Those gentlemen, ensconced in their ten-zhang mansions and living in ease, how many would care to hear a homeless wanderer "wailing"?

He would rather follow Liang's original plan: slip alone into a remote county, organize righteous troops, train village militia, kill Australians—reliving the days when he had followed his father into battle against bandits and pirates. Every scholar harbored a dream of "inspecting a sword by lamplight while drunk," and Huang Bingkun was no exception.

Liang Cunhou knew what he was thinking. "Among the hundreds of thousands on Qiongya Island and the million in Guangfu, there are those familiar with Australian affairs, and those of passionate conviction. But one who possesses both qualities—that is you, Brother Huang, and you alone!"

With things put so plainly, Huang Bingkun could no longer refuse. He answered resolutely, "I understand. The messenger must also be well-versed in Australian affairs. Looking across this million-strong prefecture, who else is there but me? Everything is at Brother Liang's disposal!"

Perhaps because the Internal Training Materials had struck such a blow to those present, no one was in the mood to linger. Before long, the handful of participants dispersed. As usual, the moment they left, there came sounds of movement from behind the beaded curtain in the adjacent alcove—someone departing by another exit. The others assumed, as they always had, that one of the Liang family elders had been listening in on their discussions. They thought nothing of it and did not press Liang Cunhou; they simply exchanged courteous farewells and went their separate ways.

Only Huang Bingkun did not leave at once. After the others had gone, he raised again the matter of going to the outlying counties to raise troops.

"There is no need for you to trouble yourself with that, my worthy brother." A mysterious smile appeared on Liang Cunhou's face. "I have already found a more suitable candidate."

Liang Cunhou stood at the garden gate and watched Huang Bingkun and the others depart. He did not return to his own study as usual but instead wound his way through several corridors until he reached an elegant pavilion in the rear garden of his father's compound. There he straightened his robes and announced himself formally: "Your humble younger cousin Cunhou pays respects to the ancestral brother!"

This "ancestral brother" was none other than Zhang Dai. Ever since his friends in the literary circle had piqued his curiosity, Zhang Dai had been planning a trip to the south to see the Australians' new marvels for himself—and more importantly, to taste authentic Australian cuisine. But in an era of difficult travel, "spontaneous journeys" simply did not exist, so the trip had been delayed until late the previous year.

Zhang Dai's grandfather, Zhang Rulin, had been a jinshi of the 1595 examination, the same class as Liang Cunhou's grandfather, Liang Younian. Later, Liang Younian rose to become Right Provincial Administration Commissioner of Zhejiang, overseeing Zhang Rulin's home region, while Zhang Rulin served as Provincial Administration Vice Commissioner of Guangxi, with jurisdiction over a key trade route for the Liang family. In their later years, both men had attained provincial-level positions, and their correspondence grew closer. This "examination bond" had been maintained—neither warming nor fading—through subsequent generations as members of both houses continued to pass the civil examinations. By the time of Zhang Dai and Liang Cunhou, the relationship was primarily economic: facilitating the exchange of goods between Jiangsu-Zhejiang and Guangdong. When Zhang Dai resolved to travel south, his family's first choice of hosts was naturally the Liangs. The original plan was to arrive before the New Year, spend the holiday enjoying Cantonese customs at a family friend's home, then proceed to Lingao after the festivities wound down. But the weather that winter had been freakish—Guangdong even saw snow—and before the New Year celebrations had fully concluded, the Australians had already taken Guangzhou. Zhang Dai found himself "stranded" in the city, not daring to wander freely.

Though Guangzhou had "fallen," the Liangs ensured Zhang Dai suffered no hardship. In the initial panic, the family suggested he take refuge at their ancestral estate in Xingtang Township. But the gourmand instincts inherited from his grandfather made Zhang Dai loath to abandon the novel foods so readily available in Guangfu. Moreover, the Australians' doings in the city had aroused his curiosity. Rather than hiding in the countryside, he preferred to observe up close. After some deliberation, Liang Wendao—Liang Cunhou's father—decided there could be no objection. After all, Zhang Dai had no connection whatsoever to the Australians; he had merely come to Guangfu to visit friends. There was no reason the Australians would bother him. In his mind, the Australians were no longer simple "bandits." Still, precautions were necessary—at least to show that the Liang family "valued" their guest. And so Zhang Dai was moved from the guest quarters to an elegant pavilion in the rear garden of Liang Wendao's own compound, to "lie low for a while."

Ultimately, Zhang Dai and Liang Cunhou were of the same generation, but Zhang Dai's literary reputation and erudition far exceeded Liang Cunhou's provincial fame. Liang Cunhou had therefore made a point of cultivating Zhang Dai's favor. When Zhang Dai arrived and made clear his interest in the Australian intruders, Liang Cunhou invited him to participate in the Jade Source Society's garret meetings. He had intended initially to have Zhang Dai listen from behind a screen once or twice, then make a grand introduction of the "Shaoxing literary celebrity." But before even a couple of sessions had passed, Guangzhou changed hands. For safety's sake, Liang Cunhou dared not let Zhang Dai appear openly—in these extraordinary times, a northern scholar suddenly materializing in "occupied territory" might provoke suspicion; he could not guarantee that everyone in the society would remain discreet. Thus, for the past several months, Zhang Dai had continued to "observe" the Jade Source Society's meetings from behind the beaded curtain. Today's session, too, Liang Cunhou had specifically arranged for Zhang Dai to overhear, because he had always planned to use Zhang Dai's connections to relay news of "Guangfu's great upheaval" back to Jiangnan—and even to the capital.

"There is no need for such ceremony, younger cousin." Zhang Dai, in his forties, naturally accepted the title of "ancestral brother" from a man in his thirties. By the time Liang Cunhou had seen off his guests, Zhang Dai had already settled into a seat. He was nibbling on the latest Australian confection called "cookies" while perusing an essay sample book; several other study guides of various editions lay beside him, all procured by the Liang household from the market.

"Ancestral brother, what do you think of this Huang Bingkun?" Having grown familiar with Zhang Dai's easygoing temperament over these months, Liang Cunhou dispensed with further formalities and got straight to the point.

"A man of passion," Zhang Dai replied blandly. This assessment surprised Liang Cunhou.

"Ancestral brother, is something amiss?"

Zhang Dai was silent for a moment, finishing the question in his book and turning the page before finally answering. "Nothing amiss. He is well suited to carry the news north. Only I do not intend to accompany him back." After a pause, Zhang Dai turned to fix Liang Cunhou with a resolute gaze. "I still wish to see Lingao for myself."

Liang Cunhou's brows knitted. Could it be that this ancestral brother Zhang had been bewitched by the Australians? Surely not—his family and property were all in Shaoxing, and the Australians' hostility toward Confucian scholars was unmistakable. Zhang Dai could not possibly hold any affection for them. Then again, perhaps... Viewed from a perspective of loyalty and righteousness, was Zhang Dai planning to personally "scout Australian affairs"? After all, Huang Bingkun was an "outsider"; though he could reach the Jiangnan gentry through the Liang family's old connections, his voice carried little weight. If Zhang Dai—a prominent figure in the Revival Society—were to investigate personally, his testimony would carry far more credibility.

"Could it be that you, ancestral brother, intend to venture into the tiger's den yourself? Truly a deed of great righteousness..." Liang Cunhou tried to flatter Zhang Dai along the "loyalty" angle while closely observing his expression, but Zhang Dai's face betrayed nothing.

"They're all shrewd foxes," Liang Cunhou thought. He abandoned his probing, exchanged a few pleasantries inquiring after Zhang Dai's meals and lodgings, then took his leave, proceeding directly to report this new development to his father, Liang Wendao.

(End of Chapter)