Chapter 2124 - A Mess
"Ah." Zhu Quanxing checked his watch—nearly noon. The worthies had been cooling their heels for three or four hours. He felt no particular warmth toward them, but he needed their cooperation. Local notables knew the terrain best and controlled the bulk of social resources. The Rice Merchants' Guild in particular—he had considerable expectations for them.
"Show them in."
Leading the "delegation of worthies" was none other than Luo Yangming. Cover protocols dictated he couldn't reveal his identity—he had to wait for his "superiors" to make contact first.
At this moment, he carried a weighty responsibility. His document wallet contained not only the gift list but also the "agency authorization certificate" Dachang Rice Company had issued him—in reality, merely a commercial partnership credential. But the "worthies" assumed this constituted an official "license" from the Australians, a pathway to influence.
Wuzhou's worthies knew precious little about the Council of Elders, though they'd heard scattered rumors. The Fubo Army's orderly conduct upon entering the city had confirmed much of what they'd heard, so their anxiety had subsided considerably since morning. Though the wealthiest magnates hadn't dared appear personally, every major household—including gentry who had fled to the countryside—had sent representatives, at minimum a close relative.
Luo Yangming understood precisely what the worthies most urgently needed to know: first, whether the Council of Elders intended to remain in Wuzhou; second, if so, what price that would exact.
The first point seemed self-evident. The Australians had come in force—they wouldn't simply fight and withdraw. Anyone with geographic awareness grasped Wuzhou's strategic significance. The second point was what truly concerned them.
Since time immemorial, when visiting armies arrived, local magnates rendered tribute—an iron law of survival. A few years past, when Governor-General Wang's punitive expedition against the Hair-Bandits had collapsed in defeat, panic had swept all Guangdong. Numerous Guangxi reinforcements had been summoned, throwing Wuzhou into turmoil. As for the recent forces invited by Governor-General Xiong—they'd been prepared to reduce Wuzhou to ashes.
Now the Australians had arrived. However exemplary their discipline, the wealthy still needed to demonstrate appropriate deference. The magnates had no gauge for the Australians' appetite, nor how they distinguished "public requisition" from "private extraction." Though gift lists and army reward schedules had been prepared, no one knew whether the Australians would find them satisfactory. They were nervous, fearing the Australian commander might turn hostile and have them all hanged—such tales were commonplace.
Zhu Quanxing received Luo Yangming and his delegation, offered the standard reassurances regarding their safety and property, and directed the naturalized vice director of the Wuzhou Military Government to negotiate specifics. He announced establishment of a "Relief Bureau" and requested the worthies "contribute funds and effort"—all precisely as expected, and everyone dutifully agreed.
"I won't mince words," Zhu Quanxing said. His primary concern was grain. "Wuzhou has endured warfare. The city has suffered extensive damage. Numerous civilians lack shelter and require immediate housing repairs. Refugees displaced by the fighting require relief—please extend your full support. Additionally, our army requires provisions. Summer and autumn taxes aren't yet due, and most common folk have barely enough to feed themselves. The 'reasonable burden' must therefore fall on you gentlemen."
Money and grain—entirely predictable, surprising no one. Someone immediately began pleading poverty.
"Silver we can manage to scrape together—that's not insurmountable. But grain... that presents genuine difficulty..."
The speaker was Da Xinxuan, proprietor of a rice shop in Wuzhou. Behind his operation stood the Wu family, one of the city's prominent gentry clans. Da Xinxuan came armed with certain confidence—the Wu family's young master had conducted business with the Australians years previously and was reportedly on friendly terms with Boss Guo of Guangzhou, having concluded several "substantial deals" together.
Supposedly, the Australians valued old relationships—those who had rendered them service would not suffer. Thus emboldened, he was first to cry poverty.
Da Xinxuan lamented that the city had once possessed substantial grain reserves—conservatively estimate, the various rice merchants' warehouses had held thirty to forty thousand shi. But from the moment Governor-General Xiong arrived in Wuzhou, what with provisioning men and horses and frantic shipments westward into Guangxi, over half those reserves had vanished. The recent days of combat had brought burning and looting; every rice merchant had suffered catastrophically. His own establishment retained a mere four to five hundred shi.
"...I'm actually among the fortunate. Some smaller merchants have seen their warehouses stripped completely bare."
Luo Yangming knew this account, though calculated to elicit sympathy, wasn't entirely fabricated. The rice merchants had indeed suffered grievously—marauding soldiers had emptied his own shop to the last grain.
He cleared his throat and interjected: "Chief, the local rice trade has truly sustained devastating losses. We will naturally exert every effort to shoulder our 'reasonable burden,' but we respectfully request your indulgence regarding timing and quantities."
Zhu Quanxing nodded curtly. "Discuss specifics with the vice director. For immediate purposes, provide one hundred shi of rice to establish porridge stations for the refugees."
"Certainly, certainly—the porridge stations were already operational; we'll have them running again immediately."
Grain within the city was genuinely scarce. Not only had merchant warehouses been depleted—the prefectural and county official granaries and civilian Ever-Normal Granaries stood nearly empty as well. The logistics officers' preliminary inventory tallied seized grain at under four thousand shi, portions of it damaged by fire, smoke, or water.
"It appears Old Xiong truly left us a disaster," Zhu Mingxia sighed upon receiving the initial post-occupation assessment.
At present, they faced dual imperatives: procuring grain while simultaneously providing relief. Civilians rendered homeless by urban chaos alone numbered several hundred households—several thousand individuals. During the forced civilian evacuation, numerous shops and residences had been pillaged by soldiers and opportunistic criminals; these victims urgently required assistance as well. Rough estimates indicated over twenty thousand people requiring relief.
Xu Ke had already entered the city to "investigate." First priority was supervising prisoner interrogations for actionable intelligence. Second, he needed to establish contact with "Lone Wolf." Beyond requiring detailed intelligence on Wuzhou's current state, he was intensely curious about this operative who had delivered critical information and persuaded a significant fraction of the city's power brokers to collaborate.
Chang Qingyun and fifty-odd companions were detained in the barbican. Their bonds remained in place, and no one accorded him differential treatment despite his gentlemanly appearance. The gate stood wide open, thronging with traffic. Soldiers passing through, whether hurrying on errands or standing sentry, all appeared neatly uniformed and smartly disciplined.
"Two years separated, and the Hair-Bandits have grown this formidable!" Chang Qingyun muttered.
Prisoners were unbound individually and escorted one by one to a small chamber at the wall's base for interrogation. Most emerged and were segregated for continued detention; a handful came out beaming and were permitted entry into the city.
Seated at the wall's foot, Chang Qingyun simmered with discontent. Common knowledge held that falling into Hair-Bandit custody at least meant one's life was secure, yet a steady stream of passing Australians kept pointing at the prisoners, and the Guangxi soldiers bound alongside him kept shooting him venomous glares—none of which eased his mind.
Changqing had entered that small chamber quite some time ago without emerging. Chang Qingyun was still wondering what delayed him when suddenly a passerby's voice rang out: "That's Chang Qingyun! He's the one who wanted to burn down the city!"
A yamen clerk from the prefectural office had recognized him. This clerk owned considerable property in Wuzhou and had lived in terror from the moment he'd heard Governor Xiong intended to torch the city. Once the Fubo Army seized control, he'd promptly aligned himself with Australia-Song and was now guiding Australians through inventories of Wuzhou's granaries. His shout drew dozens of onlookers who began bellowing "Kill him!" "Burn him!" "Xiong Wencan's lapdog!" Suddenly spit, mud, and charred wood fragments were pelting Chang Qingyun.
"Disperse! Clear out!" Fubo Army soldiers swiftly scattered the mob. Two seized Chang Qingyun by the arms and hauled him into the interrogation chamber.
Chang Qingyun had taken a brick fragment to the forehead and remained dazed as he was shoved down onto a bamboo chair.
He steadied himself and looked up. Three men sat behind the desk. Two were young, clearly naturalized locals in uniform—not genuine Australians. The third sat somewhat back, his features obscured in shadow.
"Name?" demanded one of the young men.
"This humble one is Chang Qingyun."
"You served as Xiong Wencan's staff officer?"
"Yes, I was attached to Governor Xiong's staff."
"Was the plan to burn Wuzhou your conception?"
"No. This constitutes slander by malicious individuals. I beseech your honor to investigate." Chang Qingyun understood he absolutely could not admit such culpability. Otherwise, to curry popular favor, the Australians would certainly mete out severe punishment—perhaps summary execution. "The scheme originated with Chang Pu, the Enping County Magistrate. It bore no connection to me."
"Whether the plan was yours, we shall certainly determine. We recommend you confess voluntarily and seek lenient treatment."
"It truly was not my doing. Heaven itself bears witness!" Chang Qingyun knew the Australians didn't manufacture charges or casually execute prisoners for show. He took some reassurance from that.
"Do you know Xiong Wencan's whereabouts?"
"I do not know." Chang Qingyun felt this sounded excessively terse, so he elaborated: "The day before your army entered the city, he vanished. If he fled, he would have gone toward Tengxian, Rongxian, or that general direction."
"Inform us of everything you know regarding the Ming garrison."
Chang Qingyun was puzzled—the defending forces had long since disintegrated; what remained to discuss? Yet since they'd asked, he'd best answer honestly to avoid provoking the Hair-Bandits.
Having served on staff, he possessed detailed knowledge of the various military units. He recounted everything systematically: the origins, command structures, troop strengths, and officer rosters of both local garrison and visiting forces.
"The Ming force that defended Bangshan—what were their origins? And who commanded them?"
(End of Chapter)