Chapter 67: The Sinners

“Working late every night, this gas bill is outrageous,” Director Wu grumbled. While generally satisfied with the Jesuit priests’ work, he had some complaints about them working at night. The devout priests refused to give up their daytime preaching and missionary work, insisting on doing their artistic work in the evenings. This pained Director Wu—the Fuel Department refused to grant religious establishments under the Religious Affairs Office a discount on their gas bills, nor would they charge the “internal transfer price,” insisting on the “general commercial” rate.

The Lingao church system received almost no financial grants; over ninety percent of its funding had to be self-generated. Of course, Director Wu had the support of the Jesuit Order, a major financial backer, in terms of both manpower and money. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know how to keep the church running. The church’s assets were limited, and the converts they attracted were mostly poor people and common folk who, despite being “fanatical” in their piety, could not offer much in the way of donations.

“I have to make the Propaganda and Construction departments bleed a little,” he muttered to himself. “And there’s Hu Qingbai. I can have Father Jin teach sculpture and art classes and collect some fees on the side…”

The sudden arrival of Gonzales and Trini lifted his spirits. He was, of course, aware of the recent visit from the representatives of the Dutch East India Company. Not only did he know, but he had also seen photos and brief introductions of the three main representatives. He recognized the two of them as soon as they entered.

The Spaniard and the Italian were both Catholics. From the moment the Magdeburg submitted its crew list and underwent quarantine, the Political Security Bureau and the Colonial and Trade Department had issued a notice to all Catholic churches in Lingao, warning them that Gonzales and Trini might visit and instructing all departments to prepare for their reception and propaganda work.

Having managed the church’s affairs for several years, Wu Shimang had the most experience dealing with Europeans of that era and understood their religious sentiments very well. Spaniards were known for their strong religious feelings, so after just a few words, he had the old Spanish soldier so moved he was on the verge of tears. Mr. Trini, as an Italian, was not particularly fervent, but after years in Batavia with no religious freedom, being forced to attend Protestant services daily, he felt a deep resentment and had grown more attached to the Catholic faith he had once taken for granted.

Wu Shimang had been a marketer and a human resources trainer in his old life, possessing a silver tongue. In this new world, he had spent a long time among religious figures, mostly missionaries, and his powers of persuasion had only grown sharper. In no time, he made the two Europeans feel an immense warmth in their hearts.

As for Father Jin and his apprentice, who were at work, they were naturally delighted to see two fellow believers from Europe so far from home. The three of them soon fell into conversation, chatting happily in a mutually intelligible Italian. Wu Shimang stood by with a charming smile—he couldn’t understand a word, but he didn’t mind. He carried a recording pen, and the content of their conversation would soon be handed over to the Political Security Bureau, where a transmigrator who knew Italian would translate it.

The two visitors toured the church, admiring its scale and structure. Trini paid particular attention to the details. As an Italian draftsman, he was proficient or at least familiar with various crafts—a common trait among Italian artists since the Renaissance. A painter was often also a sculptor, a metalworker, an architect, and even an engineer. Leonardo da Vinci was merely the most outstanding among them.

Trini looked at the murals and sculptures under construction on the walls, a faint, dismissive smile on his face. To a professional artist like him, the skill of Father Jin and his apprentice was somewhat lacking. Jesuit missionaries heading to China and Japan, for the purpose of proselytizing, had studied astronomy, mathematics, physics, and art before their journey, but their professional standards were generally not the highest.

Out of politeness, he made no comment. His gaze shifted from the walls to other things, and he soon noticed the stained glass windows being installed on both sides of the chapel. The patterns, however, were not religious subjects but large landscapes—somewhat like the simple, linear style he had seen on medieval tapestries: endless fields with rolling waves of golden wheat; numerous red houses with giant chimneys; dense orchards on green hillsides with white flocks of sheep below; and fishing boats returning fully laden on a sapphire sea…

These patterns were simple and bright, very different from traditional church decorative glass windows. Trini observed them carefully, trying to decipher their meaning. Clearly, these stained-glass mosaics were expressing a vision of a beautiful, bountiful life…

Under the light of the gas lamps, a group of women and half-grown children were on the scaffolding, carefully fitting pieces of glass into the iron frames. They wore uniform short coats of undyed, natural-colored cloth, working in silence as they meticulously installed and secured the glass panes.

“Who are they?” Trini asked, surprised. They were obviously not monks or nuns, yet they exuded a certain penitential atmosphere.

“Some poor sinners,” Jin Lige said, making the sign of the cross. “May God save their souls.”

These people were the “families of bandits”—the “sinners”—managed by the convent. Since the bandit suppression campaign in the Thirteen Villages, bandits with minor crimes were released and sent home after a period of re-education and forced labor, with qualified individuals being accepted for work or military service. However, the families of the most heinous bandits who were killed in action received “special treatment.” The able-bodied young men were sent to labor camps and organized into special labor teams, while the women and underage children were transferred to the Lingao convent for “re-education” and “reformation,” while performing simple labor. The purpose was to brainwash them and weaken their sense of hatred, so they could become useful members of society in the future, rather than “unstable elements.”

Although the “reformation” work took place at the convent, it was actually managed jointly by several departments, with the Political Security Bureau providing guidance. After a period of time, the Bureau would assess the “sinners.” Those deemed “reformed” and rated Level IV-B: “Unreliable, Usable” would be released and relocated. Those whose “educational results” were deemed “insignificant” would be handed over to the labor camps for “processing.”

The priests did not object to this work—in Europe, it was not uncommon for monasteries to house and supervise “sinners.” Moreover, the priests believed that the secular Australian regime’s willingness to entrust this task to the church was a sign of its reliance and trust, so they were quite enthusiastic about the “reformation work.”

Director Wu, of course, was even less opposed. To him, it meant free labor. The “sinners” worked in special shoe and clothing factories run by the Ministry of Light Industry, and the church received a per-capita fee to cover their food and clothing. The surplus, naturally, went to sponsor the church’s construction. Director Wu was very satisfied with this system.

A steady stream of “sinners” continued to be sent from the ongoing pacification war in northern Qiongshan. Initially, only “bandit families” were accepted, but the group later expanded to include the families of all “eliminated hostile elements.” Thus, Director Wu’s facility always maintained a considerable number of “sinners.”

Mr. Trini, however, was very moved. He also made the sign of the cross and murmured a prayer. Just then, Gonzales spoke up: “Father, I wish to confess.”

When the two left, they donated ten Spanish reals to the church.

“Only ten Spanish silver dollars!” Wu Shimang watched them leave with a broad smile, but inwardly he was scornful—he had expected Gonzales, with his grand air, to produce at least fifty silver coins. Father Jin had just heard their confessions—the two had been under Dutch rule for a long time, forced to perform Protestant rituals and not observing Catholic fasting rules, and their hearts were deeply troubled, so they made a thorough confession. As for the content of the confession, he would have to wait until noon tomorrow to find out—the transmigrator who knew Italian would only listen to the recording in the morning. If any secrets were revealed, he, the general of the Religious Affairs Office, would get the primary credit…

Wu Shimang was very dissatisfied with the current state of religious work—he even felt he had chosen the wrong career path. He had originally planned to transform the Catholic Church into the “state church” of the future transmigrator empire. He had already drafted many specific plans, including how future dioceses would be divided, how church property would be managed, and so on. Director Wu had even selected a site for the future “Holy City” and had a blueprint for a church army. In his vision, the future state church would be a vital force ensuring the eternal reign of the transmigrator empire. The church’s monastic knightly orders and holy army would be the “shield and sword” of the Senate. Of course, he couldn’t escape the cliché of thinking about armed nuns… In short, he was very ambitious.

But the Senate kept a tight leash on the religious system, showing no interest in establishing a state religion. They wouldn’t let him run wild—and even created a “New Taoism” to muddy the waters. This left Wu Shimang very disheartened. In terms of religious scholarship, he was clearly no match for Daoquanzi, who was well-versed in Taoist scriptures and had a systematic plan for their reform. And in the areas where he considered himself most skilled—organization, management, and operations—the Senate imposed numerous restrictions. After much thought, Wu Shimang concluded that if he didn’t want to switch out of the religious system, his best bet was to massively expand the number of believers—especially in the Li districts and the “new areas.” The Senate believed that proselytizing helped to stabilize restive regions. At the same time, the more effective his missionary work, the more resources he could obtain from the Jesuit Order.