Chapter 2749: The Capital (Part 105)

The "Young Master" was simply too young—only thirteen years old. "When the master is young, the state is suspect," as the saying went, and most men of talent and ability were unwilling to bind themselves blindly to such uncertain prospects. Despite the Young Master's legitimacy as heir, the vast majority of Zheng Zhilong's former subordinates had drifted to other factions. To date, the forces gathered around Zheng Sen at Anping amounted to a mere two thousand troops on land and sea, along with thirty vessels of various sizes—barely enough for self-defense. Meanwhile, rival powers coveting the lands and manors near Anping constantly employed both threats and inducements, all seeking to "support the Young Master" and thereby control him. Qian Taichong found himself stretched impossibly thin, maneuvering ceaselessly just to maintain their precarious position.

Under such relentless pressure, Qian Taichong understood that even if he possessed Zhuge Liang's genius, he could not display his talents in this tiny corner of Zhangzhou Bay. To break the deadlock and ensure survival, he needed to find a more powerful backer.

Originally, the Fujian Governor had been his greatest patron. But since Zou Weilian left office, the new Governor, Shen Youlong, had grown cold toward the Zheng faction. Though courteous on the surface, his stance toward the various internal struggles within the clan was one of detached observation—"sitting on the mountain to watch the tigers fight." Qian Taichong had rushed to Fuzhou several times, only to return empty-handed each time.

Fortunately, Shen Youlong's strategy toward the Zheng faction remained one of division rather than destruction. Although he would not assist any particular branch, neither would he permit them to annex one another. But what of his successor? If the next governor accepted heavy bribes, or harbored ambitions to reorganize the Zheng family under his own authority, Zheng Sen's group would face imminent danger.

After weighing his options again and again, Qian Taichong resolved to take a great gamble: he would travel directly to the Capital to seek a backer.

He had entered the Capital in the ninth year of Chongzhen and remained through the New Year. During those months, he exhausted every channel and explored every backdoor the Capital had to offer. It must be said that Zheng Zhilong's network of favors had indeed been extensive. Trading on Zheng Sen's reputation, Qian Taichong managed to secure audiences with several powerful figures at court, even meeting Cao Huachun, the so-called "Inner Prime Minister." He called upon numerous high-ranking officials of Fujian origin. Altogether, he spent tens of thousands of taels—yet never received a single useful reply.

In those six months in the Capital, he came to understand viscerally what "when the person leaves, the tea grows cold" truly meant. He had never enjoyed Zheng Zhilong's glory during the general's lifetime, but running about on Zheng Sen's behalf had given him a thorough education in the fickleness of human relationships.

Anyone else might have lost heart long ago. But Qian Taichong possessed a stubborn temperament and took pride in accomplishing what others could not. In desperation, he resolved to compose a memorial to the Emperor himself. However, his rank was lowly and his position insignificant—he had no right to present a memorial directly and could only entrust it to a court official willing to submit it on his behalf.

Finding such a person proved no simple matter. When Zheng Zhilong lived, Fujianese officials at court had shared generously in the profits from the maritime trade he controlled. After Zheng Zhilong's death, the various splinter factions of the Zheng clan found themselves excluded from maritime commerce by the Kun.

Without shared interests to bind them, these officials naturally had no reason to stick their necks out for Zheng Sen. In the end, Qian Taichong turned to the eunuchs, hoping for one final throw of the dice. For this audience—including the various incidental expenses along the way—he spent one thousand taels of silver.

Against all expectation, this "final throw" succeeded. Qian Taichong was taken to the Jinyiwei yamen and held for several days, during which he was questioned multiple times. Then today, he was suddenly brought out and instructed to don his official robes and prepare his documents.

When he asked where they were taking him, his escorts remained tight-lipped. Yet their demeanor and manner of address had grown noticeably more courteous than in previous days.

Qian Taichong harbored a faint suspicion of the answer, though he hardly dared believe it—an audience in the Golden Hall was the dream of every scholar who had endured long years of study by the cold window. Even now, standing here, he felt as though he were walking through a dream.

When the eunuch of the Imperial presence emerged to summon him, Qian Taichong hastily straightened his clothing and cap, bent at the waist, and followed the eunuch step by measured step into the Yufang Pavilion.

A palace maid lifted the yellow satin door curtain. Bending nearly ninety degrees, Qian Taichong walked reverently into the East Warm Chamber.

"Subject Qian Taichong, Inspector of the Zhangzhou Coastal Defense Sub-prefect's Yamen, greets His Imperial Majesty!" he announced, immediately dropping to his knees and pressing his forehead to the floor in a kowtow.

For such private audiences, officials typically did not report their full titles, but Qian Taichong reasoned that since he was not among the Emperor's close ministers, he had best announce his complete designation to leave an impression.

It was rare fortune indeed for someone of his station to behold the Emperor, yet to actually stand before the Imperial Countenance filled him with profound unease. He was no longer a mere commoner, true, but with his lowly rank and minor position, submitting a memorial to discuss state affairs was a grave presumption. That he had been granted an audience suggested the Emperor found his memorial of interest—yet since ancient times, "accompanying a ruler is like accompanying a tiger." Any misstep in his replies would be trifling if it only endangered himself, but it also concerned Zheng Sen and all the loyal souls gathered around him.

Having performed the customary obeisance, he dared not raise his head, keeping his gaze fixed on the square brick floor before the Emperor's feet as he waited for his sovereign to speak.

For a long moment, Chongzhen said nothing, simply studying his visitor from head to toe. He observed a man past thirty, steady of expression, with sun-darkened skin and unusually large hands and feet. Though his manners were somewhat rough, his features bespoke reliability.

"You are Qian Taichong?"

"Yes, it is precisely this humble subject."

"In which year did you earn your examination credentials?"

"Your subject is ashamed to say. I squandered many years in the examination halls and achieved only the rank of licentiate. I paid a contribution to enroll as a student at the Nanjing Imperial College. In the fifth year of Chongzhen, I was appointed Inspector for being listed on the merit roll for the recovery of Anping and Zhongzuo."

"You need not be ashamed that you did not rise through the standard path. The world abounds with talent—how could every capable man emerge from the civil service examinations?"

"I thank His Majesty for the encouragement." Upon hearing these words, Qian Taichong felt a sudden tightness in his chest and a surge of blood to his head. It was merely a polite remark, yet issuing from the lips of the Son of Heaven, it carried supreme honor.

"Rise and answer standing."

Qian Taichong kowtowed once more, then rose quickly to his feet, head still lowered as he awaited the Emperor's next words.

Glancing sidelong, he glimpsed a young man seated upon the central throne, wearing a black gauze cap with upturned corners, a bright vermillion round-collared robe with narrow sleeves adorned with four coiled dragons, and a translucent rhinoceros-horn belt at his waist. In appearance, he could not be past thirty, yet his complexion was sallow and his eyes dull. His entire bearing radiated exhaustion.

The Emperor cleared his throat with a light cough and spoke:

"You have been in the Capital for many days, exerting yourself on Zheng Sen's behalf. Zhen has read your memorial."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your unwavering devotion to General Feihuang moves even Zhen. That the Zheng family could employ a man such as you was truly their good fortune."

These words drew forth all the melancholy Qian Taichong had kept bottled within. For years now, he had exhausted himself on Zheng Sen's behalf, racking his brains day and night. Yet few within the Zheng faction spoke well of him. Setting aside outsiders, even the people closest to Zheng Sen showed him respect to his face while questioning behind his back whether his tireless efforts were really aimed at sidelining the young master and claiming the Zheng family's remaining wealth for himself.

He could pour out such grievances only to the two foreigners, Tong Taro and Matos—though of course, it was precisely their support that allowed him to continue giving orders at Zheng Sen's side.

Now, at last, it seemed his toil and suffering had been recognized. He tried to speak, but a lump rose in his throat. Fearing a breach of decorum, he steadied himself before responding:

"Your subject dare not claim 'loyalty' to General Feihuang—only that having received a trust, I dare not slacken in the slightest. Zheng Sen has not yet reached twenty years of age. Though he has inherited the hereditary post, he holds no real power. The Zheng household, high and low, largely refuses his command. Even the lands and money his father left behind have been seized by relatives. The General was destroyed by the Kun and died loyal to the nation. Yet his legitimate son has fallen into such straits. Your subject is lowly and powerless to support him alone, and so I could only come to the Capital to do whatever little I might on his behalf."

Chongzhen had already read these particulars in the memorial and felt little moved. Zheng Zhilong had himself been one of the "great pirates" who once gave the Emperor headaches. Later, although Xiong Wencan had pacified him and he had indeed suppressed many sea raiders and local bandits across Fujian and Guangdong, numerous ministers had noted in secret memorials that the man was "arrogant and presumptuous," "colluded with Japanese pirates," and possessed an air of "heeding transfers but not proclamations."

When the Zheng Zhilong faction was crushed by the Kun, many court officials considered this a case of "two thieves destroying each other"—an outcome that could hardly be better. Some even believed that henceforth, "the Fujian and Guangdong seas would be free of great pirates."

These sentiments had inevitably colored the Emperor's judgment. He had not summoned Qian Taichong to deliver justice on Zheng Sen's behalf.

"Did you approach Shen Youlong regarding this matter?"

"I met with him, only... it proved of no help."

"What did he say?"

"Lord Shen said that although Zheng Sen has inherited the hereditary post, the Zheng family's internal affairs are private matters, and it would be inconvenient for him to intervene." Qian Taichong's voice carried evident difficulty. "This humble subject understands that Lord Shen's reasoning is sound, only... this business of bullying orphans and widows..."

Chongzhen gave a slight nod. He had formed a favorable impression of the man before him. To repay a debt of gratitude for recognition received, this person had shouted himself hoarse running about for his benefactor's orphaned son, going so far as to find a way to the Capital and submit a memorial—carrying his case all the way to the throne itself.

Such a man was not merely loyal; he possessed tenacity in his endeavors. The pity was that he had attained only the rank of xiucai; his actual learning remained unknown.

"I have read your memorial. You know much about the Kun?"

"Yes. Your subject once served as a private secretary to Shi Bangyao, the Administration Vice Commissioner of Guangdong and Intendant of Hainan Circuit. In the third year of Chongzhen, when Governor Wang dispatched troops to punish the Kun, your subject accompanied the expedition. The imperial army was defeated at Chengmai, and your subject was captured in the chaos of battle. It was not until the fifth year of Chongzhen that I managed to escape and return."

"You accompanied Wang Zunde on the campaign against the Kun?" The Emperor was visibly surprised; he had not expected this xiucai to possess such a history.

"Yes. This humble subject was dispatched by Lord Shi to accompany Governor Wang from Qiongzhou City until our defeat beneath the walls of Chengmai," Qian Taichong replied, no small measure of sorrow in his voice.

"No wonder you possess such knowledge of Kun affairs." The Emperor fell into thought. Since Wang Zunde's defeat, many had submitted memorials discussing the Kun and their situation, but most barely scratched the surface. Even though Kun goods filled the Capital—even the palace itself—from beginning to end, precious few truly understood what was happening within Kun territory. Now that the Kun had seized two entire provinces, his court knew virtually nothing of their internal workings.

This man had fought against the Kun twice and spent several years as their prisoner. He must possess detailed knowledge of their situation—precisely the kind of expertise the court desperately needed.

"Since you know much about the Kun," the Emperor said, "let Zhen ask you this..."

He proceeded to pose questions about every rumor and supposed piece of intelligence concerning the Kun that circulated at court. Qian Taichong had labored for two solid years under the Kun Senate, unlike ordinary scholars who relied on hearsay and sought after novelties. He addressed each matter in turn—dismissing some rumors as absurd fabrications while explaining the truth behind others.