Chapter 2114 - Self-Rescue
"Master Qiao speaks truth. Yet there exists another peril—far graver still. Has your honor heard of it?"
"I beg enlightenment!"
"I fear that should Wuzhou prove untenable, the officials and soldiers in their desperation may commit unspeakable atrocities." Luo Yangming leaned forward and recounted, in clinical detail, everything Wen Tietou had witnessed.
"Such depravity!" Guild-master Qiao's complexion drained to ash. He didn't question the account—instead he surged to his feet and paced the receiving hall with agitated strides, muttering aloud: "So that explains it!"
Luo Yangming understood immediately. The guild-master must have observed the same unexplained activities but lacked Wen Tietou's dockside intelligence network to deduce the horrifying truth: Xiong Wencan intended to incinerate Wuzhou.
"Inconceivable!" The guild-master's voice trembled. "This condemns an entire city to death!"
"Given Governor Xiong's present circumstances, such a course is not altogether incomprehensible."
The guild-master nodded grimly, comprehension written across his features.
"Then petitioning Governor Xiong himself proves impossible."
"Precisely." Luo Yangming's tone carried finality. "He stands with his back against the precipice. Why would he heed our entreaties?"
The guild-master gave a slight nod. Though the two men barely knew each other before this crisis, an unspoken alliance had crystallized between them.
"Certain matters I cannot pursue openly without inviting suspicion. But Master Luo possesses greater freedom of action." Guild-master Qiao murmured quiet instructions to his personal attendant. The servant departed and returned moments later bearing a lacquered tray.
"Accept my visiting cards." The guild-master's voice dropped to barely audible. "Your first call should be upon—"
The day following Bangshan's fall, Wuzhou under daylight had transformed into a necropolis. Every door stood barred, every shop shuttered. The streets harbored only scattered patrols of nervously armed soldiers and conscripted militia. Unless circumstances demanded otherwise, no civilian dared venture outdoors—the risk of robbery or casual murder by rampaging troops was too great. Street barricades had been sealed shut; wealthy households had not merely bolted their gates but armed their servants and household guards to the teeth.
The guest troops garrisoned within the walls had descended into barely controlled frenzy. The city's fall loomed inevitable. Sensing their approaching doom, what little military discipline remained had evaporated entirely. Even their own officers could no longer restrain them. Throughout every district, soldiers openly robbed and murdered civilians; violent clashes between guest troops and the local garrison erupted with increasing frequency. Only the constant patrols of Xiong Wencan's household guard, ruthlessly suppressing the worst excesses, prevented the city from collapsing into absolute anarchy.
Amid this mounting chaos came ominous news: Xiong Wencan had still failed to appear by midday. His personal servant circulated the excuse that the Governor-General was "indisposed." Panic rippled through official circles—after all, Xiong Wencan represented the only senior authority remaining in Wuzhou. Should he truly prove "ill," command would devolve to the Prefect and County Magistrate. Expecting those functionaries to control the arrogant guest officers was pure fantasy.
While uncertainty still reigned, a trusted staff adviser named Chang Qingyun suddenly materialized, dispatching messengers throughout the city bearing formal invitations. The Governor-General would host a banquet that very evening for the city's merchants and gentry to "consult regarding Wuzhou's defense."
If Chang Qingyun remained in the city, then Yi Haoran—who commanded Xiong Wencan's household troops—must also be present, leading the patrols that suppressed rioters. Both ranked among the Governor-General's current "favorites." With his other staff advisers still visibly active, rumors of Xiong Wencan's flight appeared baseless.
Yet the collapse of that particular rumor spawned fresh anxiety among the invited merchants. This felt uncomfortably like weasels graciously inviting chickens to dinner.
Still, confronted by glowering military escorts who arrived bearing "invitations," they could scarcely refuse. Even feigning illness would merely result in being "carried" to the banquet in a sedan chair.
Luo Yangming, though not ranking among the city's great magnates, held a seat on the Rice Merchants' Guild board and therefore fell within the summons's scope. His wife and concubines dissolved into tearful distress, convinced the household would be extorted to financial ruin. But Luo Yangming's expression conveyed far graver concerns.
Xiong Wencan's banquet was transparently a trap. More alarming still was his scorched-earth contingency.
Once fires ignited, this transcended mere financial loss—his entire family's survival hung in the balance.
His recent clandestine activities had focused entirely on obstructing the arson scheme. Through patient negotiation and strategic persuasion, he had secured pledges from local constables and a substantial portion of the garrison: once Australian forces launched their assault, they would immediately open the gates in welcome. Should anyone attempt arson, they would employ every resource to prevent it.
Whether these assurances merited trust—whether these men could genuinely restrain wolf-like rioters, or whether they themselves might simply join the looting—remained terrifyingly uncertain.
His residence occupied a prosperous merchant district. Should civil order collapse, the neighborhood would face immediate devastation. Street barricades and private guards alone might prove woefully inadequate protection.
He summoned Wen Tietou and delivered quiet, precise instructions.
"I'm entrusting my household to your protection."
"Set your mind at ease! I'll guard everyone with my life." Wen Tietou struck his chest emphatically. "If only my dock brothers were inside these walls!"
"Our possessions mean nothing—only human lives matter!" Luo Yangming repeated the admonition multiple times before finally departing with several servants.
The hour remained too early for the banquet—and in any event, he hadn't decided whether to attend at all. Luo Yangming still could not penetrate Xiong Wencan's strategic calculus. If the Governor-General intended to incinerate the city, he clearly harbored no genuine defensive intent—so why stage this elaborate banquet theater about "consulting on defense measures"?
After sustained deliberation, the banquet could serve only one purpose: buying time.
He recalled the day's peculiar sequence. Since dawn, Xiong Wencan had remained invisible—first excused as "sleeping late," then by noon recharacterized as "indisposed." And now, suddenly, this abrupt banquet summons...
The realization struck Luo Yangming like physical impact: Xiong Wencan had almost certainly escaped the city under cover of darkness the previous night. Today's cascade of deceptions existed solely to maintain the illusion that the Governor-General remained within Wuzhou, personally "directing grand strategy."
When evening arrived and the banquet commenced, Xiong Wencan's absence would shatter the charade...
Cold sweat erupted across Luo Yangming's skin. Would the fires ignite precisely when the banquet began?
His mind raced through the implications. Those "invited" to this gathering represented Wuzhou's local notables—not high officials, but individuals wielding genuine influence and authority. The militia forces mustered for the city's defense included many men whose primary loyalty belonged to these very notables.
If these influential figures wished to capitulate—if they chose to resist Xiong Wencan's remaining guest troops and their arson plot—they possessed genuine capacity to succeed.
So this was Xiong Wencan's trap! Once the notables entered the yamen, the doors would be barred. Then the fires would begin—either incinerating them all outright, or at minimum stunning them into shocked paralysis so they couldn't organize effective resistance against the rioters.
A visceral chill consumed Luo Yangming's entire body. He had to act immediately!
"Quickly!" he commanded his servants. "To Master Qiao's residence—now!"
Master Qiao served not merely as head of the Rice Merchants' Guild but also as chief headman of Wuzhou's South City district. Though he held no formal official rank, within Wuzhou his influence was legendary—he commanded both underworld networks and legitimate commerce with equal facility. His authority extended not merely to local constables but to the militia forces deployed throughout the South City.
If Master Qiao could be persuaded to shift allegiance, the Dezheng and Nanxun gates controlling the southern approaches would fall into allied hands!
With this realization, Luo Yangming accelerated his pace.
Yi Haoran had arrived at the Governor-General's yamen in the early morning hours. Learning that Xiong Wencan could not yet receive visitors, he had withdrawn to his private quarters. Unlike his fellow staff advisers, Yi Haoran harbored no fantasies of fleeing alongside the Governor-General. Questions of personal survival no longer dominated his thoughts. With catastrophe hammering at the gates, he had no stomach for idling in the yamen's flower pavilion exchanging hollow pleasantries with other functionaries.
But neither had he remained idle. Returning to his chambers, he had spread ink and paper and commenced writing.
What emerged resembled less a conventional letter than a comprehensive tactical analysis of engagements from Zhaoqing forward. Though he had not personally witnessed most battles, he had systematically collected firsthand accounts from participating officers and soldiers. Yesterday's Battle of Bangshan received especially detailed treatment—he had interrogated Jiang Suo exhaustively regarding Australian assault procedures and tactical doctrine.
After completing several pages of dense analysis, he instructed his attendant to prepare multiple copies. These documents would accompany the courier bearing Xiong Wencan's official memorials to Beijing, addressed to several trusted friends and former mentors—most serving as advisers within various governmental ministries. The more individuals who comprehended the Hair-Bandits' genuine capabilities, the better prepared the realm would be.
Jiang Suo lingered nearby, visibly distracted. Following yesterday's brutal combat, exhaustion had claimed him until well past midday. Upon finally rising, he had immediately sought Yi Haoran to volunteer for assignment defending the Dayun Gate fortifications. Yi Haoran had refused categorically. "You nearly perished on Bangshan. Now you volunteer to throw your life away at Dayun Gate?"
"This humble servant desires only to serve the realm with undivided loyalty!"
"Spare me your noble lies. You seek death—nothing more. You won't articulate the reason, but I can deduce it readily enough. You harbor some blood vendetta against the Hair-Bandits. National enmity and family grievance are one matter, but pursuing deliberate self-destruction is foolishness! You remain young—you imagine passionate sentiment outweighs all other considerations. Once you've endured genuine catastrophe, you'll comprehend that mere survival transcends everything."
He exhaled heavily. Observing Jiang Suo preparing to protest, Yi Haoran silenced him with a dismissive gesture.
"Say nothing further. Immediately take the surviving new army troops and patrol the streets to maintain whatever discipline remains—the situation beyond these walls descends into chaos with every passing hour. Go rest while you can."
With that curt dismissal, Yi Haoran sent Jiang Suo away. That Xiong Wencan remained "indisposed" surprised him not at all—the Governor-General's circumstances had grown desperate beyond measure. Even had a servant arrived reporting Xiong Wencan's suicide by hanging, Yi Haoran wouldn't have registered shock.
But what could be done about Wuzhou itself? Yi Haoran's thoughts turned to County Magistrate Chang Pu's scorched-earth contingency. It might indeed represent a desperate survival stratagem, but the sheer viciousness of the plan—it could only be deployed as an absolute final extremity.
As sunset approached and he prepared to inspect the city gate fortifications, a servant burst through the doorway, whispered urgent words, and Yi Haoran's face drained of all color. He exploded to his feet and bolted from the chamber.
(End of Chapter)