Chapter 2267: Matters of Elegance
Doubts aside, Australian orders couldn't be disobeyed. Under the escort's urging, Chang Qingyun steeled himself and walked in.
The Three Headquarters now served as the headquarters and barracks of the Wuzhou National Army. Inside the main gate, numerous National Army soldiers moved about. The naturalized citizen escorting him led him through a service alley, proceeding deep into the compound.
After passing through five or six courtyards, they turned a corner and emerged from a side door. Chang Qingyun recognized it at once: this was where Xiong Wencan used to rest—three elegant rooms with garden stones and vegetation dotting the front and back courtyards. The front courtyard also featured a small pond stocked with goldfish and lotus flowers. Secluded and refined, it was a fine retreat.
At the entrance to the service alley stood a wooden sentry box with guards on duty. The cadre escorting him presented documents before they were allowed into the courtyard.
Such a place wouldn't be ordinary soldiers' quarters. Could this be... the residence of an Australian leader?
Cold sweat broke out on Chang Qingyun's back again. He understood the Australians all too well. They held scholars like him in no regard—let alone a mere Juren. They certainly wouldn't summon him here for recruitment.
Could his encounter with Jiang Suo have been exposed? On second thought, that seemed unlikely. Neither Jiang Suo nor he had done anything concrete—they hadn't even exchanged forbidden words. Even if the Australians were omniscient, they couldn't conjure suspicions from thin air about events that hadn't occurred. Besides, given his status, whether they handed him over for interrogation or simply executed him was merely a matter of a single order. An Australian leader wouldn't personally interrogate him.
While he trembled with fear, a fake Australian wearing the characteristic "cadre clothes" of the Australians emerged from inside. The man approached and asked: "You are Mr. Chang Qingyun?"
The newcomer was dignified in appearance and neatly dressed—clearly no ordinary fake Australian. Addressing a prisoner as "Mr." was extremely courteous. Chang Qingyun hastily bowed low. "I dare not presume such honor. I am Chang Qingyun."
"There's a matter we need you for," the fake Australian said, nodding to the escort, who immediately withdrew.
"What... what service might I provide?"
"Come inside and we'll talk."
Chang Qingyun was led into the building. He had been here before. The central room had served as Xiong Wencan's reception hall. The side rooms were a study and a bedroom. Originally, the furnishings had been quite refined due to the Governor's presence. Now the arrangement was not only clean and orderly but even more elegant than before. Chang Qingyun clicked his tongue silently—the Australians were known for their simplicity. Unexpectedly, there was one with such luxurious tastes.
"I'm Zhao Fengtian, Secretary of the Wuzhou City Office." The fake Australian who had brought him in introduced himself. "Please, have a seat."
Chang Qingyun perched himself on the edge of a chair.
"We've called you here to ask a favor." Zhao Fengtian began. "Frankly, we shouldn't be troubling you, but we have no scholars among us, and we couldn't find a more suitable candidate locally in Wuzhou..."
This left Chang Qingyun bewildered. He rose and said: "Whatever the Superior Officer requires, I'm at your service."
"I hear you're quite accomplished—not only of Juren origin but also superb in both poetry and painting."
Chang Qingyun's face reddened. "I wouldn't dare claim such praise. Just amateur dabbling with brush and ink—nothing worth displaying."
"No need for modesty." A trace of disdain flickered across Zhao Fengtian's face, but his words remained gracious. "I was once a subject of the Great Ming myself. I know your Juren degree didn't come easily." He continued: "We have a task for you—not difficult. Complete it well, and once the situation stabilizes, you'll be among the first released. We'll also provide travel expenses."
"I'm familiar with the Senate's preferential treatment policies." Chang Qingyun felt his footing growing steadier. This was almost certainly something involving writing or painting. "What sort of task is it?"
"Please look, Sir." Zhao Fengtian led him to the rear hall. A large painting table faced the back courtyard, arrayed with various painting tools, paper, and silk—many of top quality. Numerous books and painting scrolls filled the painting vat.
Zhao Fengtian selected a scroll of painting silk from the table and unrolled it, pressing the ends flat with paperweights. It was a blue-green landscape.
Though Chang Qingyun wasn't considered a master painter—to him it was merely a pastime—he could immediately see the painting's quality was poor. The composition clearly imitated some famous master, yet the brushwork was weak and the intent muddled. Despite using top-quality silk and pigments, the result was frankly painful to look at.
"What does Sir think of this painting?" Zhao Fengtian asked.
Chang Qingyun was instantly on guard. Given all the trouble of bringing him here to the Three Headquarters, with such exquisite painting supplies... this painting was almost certainly from the hand of some high Taiping official.
Since ancient times, officials and wealthy merchants had loved pretending to cultivation. Chang Qingyun had seen plenty of such cases. Presumably the Taipings were no different.
He considered his words carefully. "This painting is obviously from a novice hand, yet it shows considerable natural talent. Given time, the artist could become a great master."
Zhao Fengtian laughed. "Scholars certainly know how to talk. Just say it's badly painted and be done with it—why claim it will 'become a great master'?"
"Yes, yes." Chang Qingyun agreed repeatedly, thinking: You can say that—I cannot.
"To be honest, this painting is by our Chief." Zhao Fengtian said. "His skills... well, you've seen them."
"Of course, of course." Chang Qingyun said automatically.
"Of course what?"
"Though the painting can't be called good, it has a heroic spirit."
Zhao Fengtian glanced at him. He made no comment, but disdain practically dripped from his expression.
"...As you said, he's a novice. Even with diligent practice, he couldn't paint well in a short time. Besides, his official duties keep him too busy..."
Chang Qingyun had initially assumed the true Australian wanted him to teach painting or something similar. But Zhao Fengtian's next words suggested otherwise.
"...So we'd like you to ghostwrite."
So that was it—ghostwriting! Chang Qingyun thought. This was far easier than teaching a true Australian to paint. If word spread, it wouldn't count as "clinging to the powerful" or "fawning"—his reputation would be safe.
"That's simple enough." Chang Qingyun said. "What subject and size should the painting be? If I know, I can begin planning."
"No rush." Zhao Fengtian said. "This isn't just painting whatever you like." He retrieved another scroll from the painting vat and spread it on the table.
Chang Qingyun examined it. A freehand orchid—three or five strokes of extremely spare outline. Painted reasonably well, though the brushwork was delicate, suggesting a woman's hand. There was no inscription.
"This..."
"The painting you produce should echo this one in spirit."
Now Chang Qingyun understood. No wonder they had summoned him for ghostwriting. Given the Taipings' uncouth ways, painting was one thing—but understanding "painting intent" would be quite beyond them.
"I see." He nodded. "This isn't difficult. But how should it echo? There must be a theme."
"This..." Zhao Fengtian pondered for a moment. "Just paint—as long as it's positive and uplifting."
"Yes, yes." Chang Qingyun noted his hesitation and restraint. Combined with the two paintings, he understood more than half the situation. This was about a woman.
Given the furnishings and layout here, along with those exquisite painting supplies, Chang Qingyun guessed this was almost certainly where the Australian Prefect Xie Erren kept his mistress in a golden house. Only he would have the status and means for such an arrangement.
So this true Australian had refined tastes after all. Chang Qingyun mused. Not all Taipings, it seemed, were crude types who knew only carnal pleasures.
"Whatever painting tools you need, make a list and I'll have them prepared. Can you paint at Sanheui?"
"Yes, quite convenient!" Chang Qingyun nodded eagerly. "I'll just need a painting table."
"Easily arranged. I'll have one sent over." Zhao Fengtian said. "Just focus on your painting. If there are more paintings requiring your response in the future, they'll be delivered to you. Take this one with you for now—how long to complete it?"
"If the materials are ready, one day should suffice."
"Good. I'll send someone the afternoon of the day after tomorrow to collect it. Don't damage this painting—the Chief values it greatly."
"I understand."
"I'll inform the camp administrator not to assign you any work for the next few days. Just concentrate on your painting."
Chang Qingyun returned to Sanheui, his mind even more unsettled. He hadn't resolved the matter with Jiang Suo, and now this business with the Australians! Whether it was fortune or misfortune, he couldn't tell.
He didn't know much about Xie Erren. But from what he'd heard around the city, the man seemed a reasonable Australian official. Under his rule, the markets were peaceful and the people content. Whose daughter of great family was Senator Xie hiding away? She must be both talented and beautiful—otherwise, Senator Xie wouldn't be so infatuated.
The next day, a painting table and supplies did arrive from the city. The camp steward was quite polite: "Just focus on your painting, Mr. Chang. Leave other matters to others."
The preferential treatment didn't stop there. Clerks like him normally received only two meals a day; only those doing physical labor outside got three. Yet today he not only received lunch, but it was delivered specially—an actual "boxed meal" of the sort only fake Australians ate, with meat and vegetables and a bowl of soup. It allowed Chang Qingyun, whose stomach had soured from days of relief ration paste, to feast properly.
Wine and food satisfied, he picked at his teeth while thinking. Being useful to the Australians was excellent. But Jiang Suo's situation also required handling. That reckless fellow—if things went wrong, he really might run to report him. After all, he had once led troops to defend Bang Mountain, that desperate position.
Chang Qingyun knew the Australian rules: they were most particular about "rule of law." If Jiang Suo truly made a scene, even if he served Xie Erren, the man would have no ability to protect him—especially since he was a "second-time" captive.
With this in mind, he reached a decision: go meet the "old acquaintance" Jiang Suo mentioned. See who it was and what they wanted. Then decide.
Next Update: Volume 7 - Guangzhou Governance Part 471 (End of Chapter)