Chapter 2263: Gui River Bridge
A round of applause—a new custom since the Australians arrived—greeted Xie Erren as he cut the red silk ribbon, another novelty they had introduced. The ceremony announced the reopening of the Gui River Floating Bridge, which had been closed for many days.
Though just a pontoon bridge, it held great symbolic significance for the people of Wuzhou. After a period of warfare, life was finally returning to normal.
The bridge repair had proceeded with remarkable speed. The local gentry and commoners had expected it would take at least a year or half. Instead, the Rehabilitation Bureau made it their first priority after raising funds and grain. They recruited refugees to assist, and the Australian navy stationed here also lent their hands.
Xie Erren mobilized the townspeople to locate surviving pontoon boats and asked the locally stationed sailors to salvage several sunken vessels, repairing them one by one. When they couldn't find enough, they scavenged suitable boats from captured official vessels and civilian craft abandoned by their owners. Eventually they gathered fifty-six pontoon boats for the bridge. Local blacksmiths forged replacement chain links, and workers re-hammered and connected salvaged iron chains on the spot, sitting in boats fitted with portable furnaces and anvils.
After weeks of intensive labor, the floating bridge was finally completed and opened at the end of May 1635. The following day, Xie Erren held this grand "Opening Ceremony."
As he set down the scissors, firecrackers exploded in celebration. A crowd of Rehabilitation Bureau members and local notables stepped forward to offer congratulations. The common folk beamed with joy. Many rushed to grab pieces of the cut ribbon as it fell—supposedly it would bring good luck or cure ailments. Xie Erren was content to let this "superstition" continue and made no move to stop it.
Yi Haoran stood among the spectators. Ever since he had spotted Master Qiao emerging from the Rehabilitation Bureau at the City God Temple, he had grown extremely cautious. Master Qiao had spoken with him directly and knew his identity. If recognized, his cover would be blown instantly.
Fortunately, Master Qiao rarely ventured out these days, leaving only for discussions at the Rehabilitation Bureau and the Rice Grain Guild. As long as Yi Haoran stayed alert, he could avoid him.
Even so, fear gnawed at him. He was now not only a fugitive former advisor but also entangled in Gou Xunli's conspiracy. If captured, the consequences would be unthinkable.
Yi Haoran was past fifty, seasoned by experience. His ability to read people had become almost instinctive. Upon meeting Gou Xunli, he had recognized him immediately as "treacherous and cunning"—definitely not a good person. Whatever "Lin Gao gentry" he claimed to be was mostly self-aggrandizement; nine times out of ten, he was some kind of local strongman.
Ordinarily, Yi Haoran would have disdained cooperation with such types. But Gou Xunli's deep-seated hatred for the Taipings was genuine. Since Yi Haoran refused to flee with his tail between his legs and wanted to strike back at the Australians, this man was heaven-sent help. At the very least, he needn't worry about Gou Xunli betraying him.
Using his debt-collection trips as cover, he had met secretly with Gou Xunli several times at the Dragon Mother Temple outside the city. There he listened to Gou Xunli's plans for "great deeds." At first, Yi Haoran dismissed them as fantasy, especially the notion of "capturing the Taiping chief alive." The idea struck him as utterly impractical.
But then Gou Xunli mentioned the historical precedent of Hou Dagou. Yi Haoran was immediately intrigued.
During his idle hours in the Governor's staff, Yi Haoran had read about Hou Dagou's surprise attack on Wuzhou in the seventh year of the Tianshun era, when the bandit killed and captured multiple officials. Of course, Hou Dagou had been a great Yao "bandit," and it had taken the Imperial Court considerable effort—mobilizing troops and dispatching the famous official Han Yong—to suppress him. Compared to that, Gou Xunli was merely a bandit leader.
Yet Yi Haoran reflected that Hou Dagou had started as an ordinary Yao tribesman at the beginning of his uprising—not necessarily superior to Gou Xunli. Throughout history, heroes often rose from humble origins. Dismissing someone based on background was shallow thinking.
If he could actually capture or kill a true Australian, it would be an enormous morale boost for the Imperial Court and government forces, who had suffered defeat after defeat at the Taipings' hands. He himself would achieve unprecedented merit.
Though aged, Yi Haoran's ambition for accomplishment had not died. With the Imperial Court in peril and the Two Guangs on the verge of falling to the Taipings, he refused to simply flee. He agreed to cooperate with Gou Er.
Though they had partnered up, Gou Xunli himself had no concrete plan for capturing a true Australian. His only idea was to emulate Hou Dagou's feat.
The problem was that neither Yi Haoran nor Gou Xunli knew how Hou Dagou had actually fought his way into Wuzhou. Presumably it involved a surprise attack with light forces and coordination between inside and outside agents.
After discussion, they settled on a plan: Yi Haoran would organize support inside the city while Gou Xunli prepared outside. When the time was ripe, they would coordinate their attack, seize Wuzhou in one stroke, and capture or kill Xie Erren.
With this purpose in mind, Yi Haoran roamed Wuzhou daily during his free time. While seeking like-minded individuals, he studied the Australians for weaknesses, waiting for the right opportunity.
But that opportunity never came. Especially after the main force of the Wuzhou National Army arrived, garrison troops in the city increased dramatically, with soldiers guarding every key position. A Fubo Army company armed to the teeth was also stationed in the city. No matter how he assessed the situation, it seemed hopeless.
No chance for a surprise attack materialized, but news arrived that Teng County and other subordinate counties of Wuzhou Prefecture had fallen one after another. His already faint hope of a government counterattack from Guangxi was completely extinguished. Fortunately, subsequent reports of bandit uprisings and Yao riots throughout Guangdong rekindled some hope.
From street gossip and boatmen traversing the Xijiang River, he learned the disturbances had spread widely, plunging all of northern Guangdong into chaos. The Australians were shorthanded and recruiting soldiers everywhere. Soon enough, he heard local yamen runners in the teahouse mention that the Australians were enlisting new soldiers from government troop captives at Sanheui Parade Ground, forming some kind of "National Army" supposedly meant to fight the Yao.
If the Australians lacked troops, even a key town like Wuzhou probably couldn't maintain a large garrison. Perhaps they would even need to withdraw forces for suppression operations and river patrols. If so, there might be an opening.
But this excitement didn't last. Yi Haoran soon realized he was alone in Wuzhou City. To coordinate an inside-outside attack, a scholar past fifty couldn't accomplish much alone—he needed helpers.
But where to find them? Sanheui Parade Ground was the largest captive camp for Taipings in the Wuzhou area. Prisoners captured from various locations were sent there for centralized detention and screening—as many as a thousand people.
Yi Haoran had designs on them. With enough silver, it shouldn't be difficult to infiltrate and incite a revolt. The camp's security wasn't particularly tight; usually only the Security Team—the former Militia corps—stood guard, though outsiders were forbidden to enter. This presented a problem. He was no martial arts hero who could scale walls and fly over rooftops; swimming and climbing into the camp was out of the question. Besides, he didn't have the silver anyway.
Then he remembered Chang Qingyun. As a captive himself, Chang should be in the camp at Sanheui. With his assistance, infiltrating the camp would be half accomplished.
He recalled seeing Chang Qingyun working as a bookkeeper at the construction site near the Gui River Floating Bridge during one of his trips to meet Second Master Gou at the Dragon Mother Temple. Why not seek him out? Since Chang hadn't exposed him last time, his conscience apparently wasn't entirely dead. Perhaps he could be persuaded to help.
But when Yi Haoran arrived, he didn't find Chang Qingyun. Instead, he stumbled upon the Australian Prefect's "ribbon-cutting ceremony." Spotting Master Qiao among the attendees, he dared not move about freely, merely blending into the crowd and pretending to watch the festivities.
Watching that pretty-boy Taiping "Prefect" play-acting at "cutting the ribbon" with a circle of local notables around him—merchants were one thing, but several local gentry were also present, bowing and scraping before this true Australian with sycophantic smiles—made Yi Haoran's blood boil. He unconsciously muttered "jumping clowns" and, unwilling to watch further, squeezed toward the edge of the crowd. He would check the nearby city wall repair site to see if Chang Qingyun was there.
Work at the floating bridge site had concluded, but he knew the Australians drove captive labor crews out daily for various tasks—repairing city walls, clearing rubble, salvaging sunken ships, loading and unloading supplies. Chang Qingyun likely continued as a bookkeeper at another site.
As long as Chang came outside, there would be a chance to meet him. Dayun Gate, not far from the Gui River Floating Bridge, had been a heavily contested position and suffered the worst damage. Nearby markets and wharves had been devastated, with sunken ships and ruins not yet cleared. As a bookkeeper, Chang Qingyun was very likely working at a construction site in this area.
With this purpose, Yi Haoran wandered outside Dayun Gate. Dressed as an accountant and carrying a ledger, no one gave him a second glance.
He walked the length of the Gui River outside Dayun Gate, pausing wherever laborers worked to scan the faces. But Chang Qingyun was nowhere to be found. Disappointment crept over him—where had he gone?
He had heard that returning transport fleets periodically shipped captives from Sanheui Parade Ground away—supposedly to Guangzhou. Could Chang Qingyun have been transferred?
While he stood hesitating, a voice called out: "Sir, take a boat? Sir, need a ferry?"
It was a ferryman soliciting customers along the river. Though a floating bridge existed, it was some distance away. Those unwilling to detour often paid a few coppers to cross. Yi Haoran waved dismissively. "I'm not crossing."
"Sir, better cross the river," the man persisted.
Yi Haoran's expression soured. He was about to sharply rebuke the short, dark, thin boatman before him when he suddenly froze.
Next Update: Volume 7 - Guangzhou Governance Part 467 (End of Chapter)