The Anping Transaction
After much discussion, although some suggested simply sending a naturalized citizen or hiring an influential local from Macau or even Batavia to act as consul—a common practice in the 17th century—Si Kaide felt it was a waste to pass up such a prime opportunity to directly observe and influence Batavia.
“A diplomat is the best spy,” Jiang Shan stated grimly to the assembled senior members of the Intelligence Bureau in their office building. “It’s a pity to give up this chance!”
“If there’s no suitable candidate, I’m willing to go,” a man in the conference room said.
He was in his thirties, with a long face, a beard, and a pair of dark, piercing eyes. He wore his hair in a topknot and was dressed in a blue pleated robe, looking both scholarly and chivalrous. This attire clearly marked him as a transmigrator intelligence officer from the Bureau’s “B” training program, preparing for deployment to the mainland.
“I know English, German, French, and Latin, and I can read Spanish—though I can’t understand it when spoken,” he said. “Speaking German is enough to communicate with the Dutch without much trouble.”
“Old Zhao, you shouldn’t go,” Jiang Shan immediately vetoed. “We’re about to start acquiring population in Zhejiang, followed by a large-scale transfer of mainland people. The setup in the Jiangnan region is crucial. If you leave now, it would take at least three or four months to get settled effectively, and half a year to make any real progress. If you go to Batavia, all your previous training will be for nothing.”
The Intelligence Bureau’s main task for the latter half of 1631 was the large-scale acquisition and transfer of population from the Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Anhui regions. The station to be established in Hangzhou would be a key intelligence hub in the southeast, and Jiang Shan did not want his overall plan disrupted.
In the end, following the principle of recruitment, they found a volunteer from the Finance and Treasury Department to go to Batavia. Fortunately, the role of a consul was a public one, requiring no special cover training.
The volunteer for the consul position in Batavia was a transmigrator named Xue Ruowang, a certified public accountant and tax agent. He had been working on building the fiscal and tax systems in the Finance and Treasury Department and had grown tired of the routine, looking for something more exciting. Xue Ruowang didn’t know German or Spanish, but he was fluent in English, French, and classical Latin, which would allow him to manage his work in Batavia. The Finance and Treasury Department had plenty of personnel, so Cheng Dong agreed to let him go.
“The scale of Dutch financial operations in the 17th century is very extensive. Placing someone familiar with finance in Batavia might uncover some opportunities,” Si Kaide said, pleased that someone was willing to go. “Also, we can introduce some modern international trade systems into our import-export trade with the Dutch. Or maybe we could even open a bank branch in Batavia…” Si Kaide grew more enthusiastic as he spoke.
“Let’s discuss this later,” Jiang Shan interjected. “First, let’s make sure Old Xue can establish himself in Batavia.”
So, Xue Ruowang was officially appointed as the consul to Batavia, much to the delight of the transmigrator who had been buried in ledgers and numbers.
“As soon as I get to Batavia, I’ll do my best to set up a Batavia branch of the bank as quickly as possible…” he said with excitement.
“Honestly, I’m worried about your future,” said Yan Ming, the head of the Delong Bank, with a melancholic expression at the farewell banquet held by the Finance and Treasury Department. “You must be careful in that godforsaken place. Don’t catch any tropical diseases. Even if we send a doctor immediately, it would be too late…”
This remark instantly dampened Xue Ruowang’s enthusiasm. Although everyone had received as many vaccinations as possible before the transmigration, including some only required for travel to Africa or Southeast Asia, many vaccines didn’t provide lifelong immunity, and some were nearing their expiration dates. While the biological lab had made great strides in vaccine development, there was still a long way to go to restore 21st-century levels of immunity.
“It’s fine. If the Dutch can live there, so can I,” Xue Ruowang said with forced bravado. “Besides, there are many Chinese people there. I’ll be careful, nothing will happen.”
Before his departure, Xue Ruowang received a “life-preserving box.”
“This is from the organization for you,” Si Kaide said, pointing to a small, exquisitely made box with a rattan buffer layer, a stamped iron sheet interior, and a moisture-proof animal hide lining.
The box was small and came with a special carrying strap, making it easy to sling over his back for a quick escape if necessary.
Inside were medicines specially prepared by the Ministry of Health for the local conditions in Batavia: anti-malarials, snakebite antidote, antibiotics, and other emergency medical supplies and wilderness survival gear. Finally, there were 50 Portuguese gold coins.
“I hope you never have to use this,” Si Kaide said.
“I hope so too.”
As was customary, Xue Ruowang would take his life secretary with him. He had once hoped to find a Dutch woman in Batavia, but the people at the Colonial and Trade Department thought this was unlikely. The Dutch rarely sent European women to the colonies, and the few who were there were already married.
After the decision was made for her to go to Batavia, Xue Ruowang’s life secretary received confidential training from the General Political Security Bureau’s secretarial class, learning codes and radio operation. Through the radio, the Colonial and Trade Department could effectively monitor the commercial and political situation in Batavia.
Excerpts from the correspondence of Leib Trini with a friend in Venice.
My Dearest Friend,
It is with great pleasure that I write to you. Since arriving in the Far East, my mind has been flooded with all sorts of novel sights and sounds, and it is my great honor to share them with you. The opportunity to visit Lingao, in particular, has been a true eye-opener.
As a member of the company’s retinue, I was able to visit the city established by the so-called Australians on the island of Hainan—Lingao. After a formal trade agreement was secured, we were permitted to move about freely and observe the city built by this nation previously unknown to us.
You know, of course, that as a painter, I have a keen interest in observing things. Whether on the seas to the Far East, in Batavia, or in various parts of the East Indies, I have tried to capture the scenes I’ve witnessed in my sketchbook. In Lingao, my interest was just as piqued, not to mention that this was one of the reasons the company sent me as an attendant.
…
Mr. Gonzales, the Spaniard, and I left the trading post in the evening. The gatekeeper did not restrict our movements, only using a sign written in multiple languages to remind us not to leave the Dongmen Market area at night. To ensure we could find our way back, he gave us a small, hard paper card with some characters on it—Chinese characters, it seemed to me. We were told that by showing this card to any passerby, we would be guided back to the trading post.
The Dongmen Market at night was no different from the day. Bright light emanated from the glass lampshades of the streetlights, illuminating the streets so brightly that one could easily find a lost button. These streetlights were not confined to the main avenues; they could also be found in the side streets and alleys, though not as densely packed or as bright.
Clearly, in a night so devoid of darkness, the public order in Dongmen Market surpasses that of any other city. Light has driven away the best cover for criminals—darkness.
Mr. Gonzales and I wandered the streets until midnight. Even when the streets became quiet, we felt perfectly safe. It was not just our feeling; the shops that remained open late into thenight must have felt the same.
Out of curiosity, Mr. Gonzales and I ventured into the more remote alleys. I was truly astonished: the streets of Dongmen Market, whether main avenues or small lanes, were all remarkably neat and clean—a true miracle. We saw no trace of garbage or excrement in any corner. Every inch of the pavement was laid with flagstones, gravel, bricks, or a hard, black sand, so no sewage lingered on the surface. It is not difficult to understand why the Australians enforce such strict quarantine measures on any foreigner entering their territory. In such a clean and hygienic city, it would indeed be difficult for an epidemic to break out.
To ensure sanitation, they have placed woven baskets for collecting trash in many locations, and public toilets are available at every street corner and alleyway. Of course, these two measures alone are not enough to guarantee hygiene. As you know, many nobles and prominent figures think nothing of urinating or even defecating on the staircases of their own and others’ palaces—even though there are toilets available. I can only conclude that under the rule of the Australians, the moral standards of the local populace have greatly improved.
We had originally intended to find a tavern for a drink, but we were captivated by the exotic atmosphere of the Dongmen Market streets. We frequently entered shops along the way to observe their goods. The shopkeepers and clerks did not seem surprised by the sight of Europeans, as if they saw them often. We later learned that there are indeed Europeans among the Australians. Of course, how these Europeans came to be Australians, we do not know.
The shops were filled with an abundance of goods. The Chinese products we commonly see in East Asia were almost all available here, and the prices were not exorbitant. There was a large supply of local fruits, and even shops specializing in fruits and fruit products. In particular, there were large quantities of candied fruit, a clear sign that they have no shortage of sugar.
The Australians have a unique talent for producing all kinds of snacks. You would be hard-pressed to find a shop elsewhere that sells such a wide variety of treats. We entered a shop specializing in candy, where the shelves were lined with glass jars filled with colorful sweets of all shapes and sizes. Even my pen could not replicate the colors and forms of these candies in such a short time. They emitted a variety of sweet, rich aromas that were simply intoxicating.