Chapter 163: Entering the Pearl River

The “Yong’an Ju” teahouse was bustling with customers as usual. The teahouses of Guangzhou were different from those in Jiangnan or the capital. Not only were the dim sum exquisite, but the teahouses themselves were spacious, often occupying two or three-story buildings. The ground floor alone was as tall as a regular two-story building. With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, every teahouse had hung a seven-and-a-half-foot-tall, four-and-a-half-foot-wide mooncake sign in its ground-floor hall. These signs were magnificent, carved with a full set of classical figures, flowers, birds, insects, and fish. The carvings were not only exquisite, but many signs were also adorned with gold leaf, giving them a splendid and opulent appearance.

Teahouses had always been places where people from all walks of life gathered to discuss matters. Although a large red paper strip reading “Do Not Discuss State Affairs” was customarily posted in the hall, many “state affairs” were not only discussed here but sometimes even decided in such places.

According to the customs of the time, people of different statuses and professions did not sit together for tea. The teahouses were divided into different worlds by “halls.” In one of these halls, named “Tingquan” (Listening to the Spring), the patrons were all dressed in blue robes and small caps. Although they were servants, they were different from the usual abused ones. No one in Guangzhou dared to look down on them: they were the personal attendants, gatekeepers, and trusted servants and stewards of high officials and nobles. Each held great power, and their words could reach their masters’ ears. Many matters that couldn’t be resolved in the government offices could perhaps be settled smoothly here with a word and a sum of money.

It was morning, the busiest time for the teahouse. Not only was the ground floor full, but the second and third floors were also more than half-occupied. Every hall was filled with the din of voices, the cries of vendors, the sounds of singing… all mixed together, creating a chaotic yet vibrant atmosphere.

Amidst this bustling and noisy environment, a young man was drinking tea at a table. On the table were several small steamer baskets containing the teahouse’s most seasonal dim sum. The young man did not look around, but his eyes occasionally glanced towards the entrance of the hall.

Before long, a short, middle-aged man entered the hall. His eyes darted around and quickly spotted the young man sitting alone. He came over and sat down. A waiter hurried over to pour tea.

“Have some tea,” the young man said, picking up the teapot to pour for him.

“Don’t be so polite!” the newcomer said with an air of importance. “Did you bring the money?”

“Of course. A Derong note, payable on sight, valid throughout the province,” the young man said in a low voice, pulling a paper note from his sleeve. The complex patterns, multi-colored printing, and crisp paper—it was clearly a Derong note. This kind of note was impossible to forge.

The middle-aged man looked at it. It was clearly a fifty-tael Derong note, payable on sight throughout the province. A smile appeared on his lips.

“Good, you’re a straightforward man!” he said, pushing a small bag he was carrying under the table to him. “The things you want are all inside.”

The young man nodded, untied a corner of the package, and carefully inspected the contents. Inside were several small booklets, each with a small paper tag attached. The young man carefully read the contents, and only after being convinced of their authenticity did he nod.

“Don’t worry, they’re not fake,” the middle-aged man said with a laugh, eating a shrimp dumpling. “This stuff isn’t that rare, but it’s all stored in the master’s private study. Ordinary people can’t get in. I had to spend money every step of the way…”

The middle-aged man took the note, stuffed it into his boot, and began to ramble on about how difficult the matter had been, as if to show that the package was not overpriced.

“This is us making a friend. We’ll have to trouble you again in the future,” the young man said with a nod.

“Of course, of course,” the middle-aged man said, hastily drinking his tea and leaving.

The package contained copies of Gao Shunqin’s memorials and drafts of his correspondence with Beijing from the past month. For a high local official, these were highly confidential documents, usually stored securely in a private study or a similar important location, not entrusted to advisors. But no matter how well one guarded against outsiders, it was hard to guard against thieves within the household. With enough money, his concubines and servants could all be bribed to secretly copy them.

This package of copies quickly reached Lin Baiguang through a communication station. Lin Baiguang carefully examined them, and after removing the irrelevant parts, he quickly came to a conclusion. Gao Shunqin’s long-advocated move to expel the Portuguese from Macau had finally been officially launched.

What interested Lin Baiguang most was not the memorials themselves. For a matter to be approved by the court and become an imperial edict, a single memorial was not enough. A great deal of preparatory work had to be done beforehand, communicating with the grand secretaries of the cabinet, the heads of various ministries, and officials from all sides to gain their support. Some of this was political persuasion, some involved an exchange of interests. In the late Ming, there was also factional strife.

In comparison, the private letters for communication, exchanging opinions, and entrusting tasks had great reference value. By reading the correspondence, one could roughly judge the progress of a certain matter.

From these letters, it seemed that Gao Shunqin had largely completed all the preparatory work. Once this memorial was submitted, it was highly likely to be approved. Firstly, the ancients did not fully understand the importance of maritime trade; secondly, the Portuguese and their partners were not saints, and trade was often accompanied by naked robbery, murder, and arson.

All things considered, the Chongzhen Emperor was likely to issue an edict banning Portuguese trade next year, following the original course of history.

The question was why Li Fengjie showed such unusual nervousness about this matter. Whether the Portuguese could do business or not had no direct bearing on his interests. His great concern suggested he had a significant request for the Portuguese, so much so that if the Portuguese confirmed this news, his request would be rejected.

Lin Baiguang couldn’t figure out what could make Li Fengjie care so much about the Portuguese’s attitude. In the old timeline, at least during the Ming Dynasty, the Portuguese could be considered “deferential” to the local officials of Guangdong. A minor Xiangshan County Assistant Magistrate had once swaggered into Macau and had the Portuguese members of the Macau Senate arrested and spanked in court.

New intelligence soon arrived: the envoy Li Fengjie had sent to Macau was not one of his advisors, but an old acquaintance of the Elders, Li Luoyou.

Li Luoyou had lived in Macau as a child and had studied under the Jesuits, having very close ties with the Portuguese. He also had close connections with the officialdom. When Wang Zunde needed to borrow Portuguese cannons as models for casting in Guangdong, it was Li Luoyou who handled it all. It was not surprising that Li Fengjie had now sent him to liaise with the Portuguese.

Lin Baiguang decided to immediately wire Lingao and have Jiang Shan and the others arrange for someone to contact Li Luoyou in Macau through Gu Baocheng to find out the specific details.

On September 20th, after several days of rest and waiting for reinforcements and supplies to arrive, Chen Haiyang finally launched the operation into the inner waterways of the Pearl River. Led by the survey ship Haitian, he led the special task force out of the Sanmen anchorage and into the Pearl River.

There were two routes from the Pearl River Estuary to Guangzhou. One was the outer route, which went north from the east of Macau, passed through Humen (Bocca Tigris), and after crossing two sandbars, went straight to Huangpu. This was the main route for general merchant ships and large vessels going to Guangzhou. The navigation conditions on this route were better.

The other was called the “inner route,” which went north from the west of Macau, crossed the “Hengsha Shoals,” and then reached Xiangshan. From Xiangshan, it went north through Humen to Huangpu. This route, because it passed through many shoals and river branches, was generally used by smaller tonnage vessels.

Chen Haiyang had the survey data from the Haitian and various information provided by local sailors and old boatmen. He decided to only take the outer route for the first time to ensure the safety of the ships. He set the final destination for this voyage as Humen. If possible, he would establish a base at Humen to ensure that this strategic point did not need to be attacked every time they went to Guangzhou.

The fleet, led by the two-masted survey ship Haitian, weighed anchor from Sanmen and sailed past the eastern waters of Macau. It was a perfect autumn day, with a gentle breeze. The ships, freshly cleaned at the Sanmen anchorage, sailed in formation with their sails unfurled. The red imperial flag, adorned with golden ribbons, was raised on the mainmast, and numerous other flags fluttered in the wind. Cannons roared, and bugles sounded in unison. A squadron of steam-powered motorboats, spewing thick black smoke, advanced on the flanks of the fleet. Following them were swarms of small boats, towed by the motorboats. The marine corps flag fluttered.

The Portuguese in Macau knew this was the Aussie fleet—a few days earlier, the Macau Senate had sent people to Hong Kong Island, and the two sides had exchanged gifts and opinions. The Aussies were no strangers to the Portuguese, due to their support for Jesuit missionary work in Lingao and their trade with the Jesuits. What made them nervous was the purpose of the Aussies’ sudden arrival in the Pearl River Estuary—they had not only defeated a pirate gang here but had also built a fortress on Hong Kong Island.

Chen Haiyang assured them that the Aussie fleet had no designs on Macau. Although the Portuguese were afraid and did not completely trust the Aussies’ guarantee, the disparity in strength between the two sides forced them to welcome this new force with a peaceful attitude. The Portuguese even allowed the Aussies to send small boats into Macau for supplies.

Chen Haiyang noted that there were four large galleons and five or six smaller ships anchored in Macau’s harbor. In terms of scale, the Portuguese naval strength in East Asia was indeed not weak. If not for the advantage of their new weapons, power, and ships, relying only on traditional vessels and weapons, they might not be a match for the other side.

A puff of thick smoke emerged from a distant fort, and the rumbling of cannons followed. The Portuguese were firing a ceremonial salute.

The forts in Macau fired a salute, followed by a volley from the Portuguese ships anchored in the harbor. The fleet returned the salute with their own cannons. The entire Pearl River Estuary was filled with white smoke and the roar of cannons, announcing the official arrival of the transmigrator group on the mainland.