Chapter 78: Master Zhao

On this matter, the Foreign Intelligence Bureau had held in-depth discussions. It was clear that Zhao Yigong could not be associated with the Australians. Jiangnan was not Guangzhou; it was not under the cannon fire of the Senate. Unlike in Guangzhou, where Guo Yi had operated in a semi-public capacity from the very beginning.

With the help of historical researchers from the Great Library, Jiang Shan ultimately decided to create a false identity for Zhao Yigong.

Leveraging the Senate’s prestige in Guangdong and the help of a group of minor officials who were more than willing to run errands for the Australians in exchange for silver, Zhao Yigong easily obtained a false identity as a native of Sanshui County, Guangdong. Not only did he get a false identity, but he also went through the channels of the Guangdong Provincial Education Commissioner, spending a few hundred taels of silver to acquire the title of “zengsheng” (a type of scholar) in Sanshui County. He was now a proper scholar. Jiang Shan even planned to get him a “juren” (provincial graduate) title during the Guangdong provincial examinations to facilitate his future activities.

With the status of a scholar, he was no longer an ordinary commoner in Ming society. All sorts of troublemakers would have to show him some deference. This provided a considerable guarantee for the transmigrator’s personal safety and social activities.

After everyone settled down, Zhao Yigong instructed Sun Wangcai to immediately look for a house. To integrate into Hangzhou society, he needed a residence that befitted his status—not too luxurious, but still displaying the dignified air of a descendant of the Song imperial family.

Of course, there was a legitimate Zhao-Song imperial family in this era, the descendants of Zhao Ruohe, the Prince of Minchong of the Song Dynasty, who lived together in Fujian and built the Zhao Family Fortress. The ancestors of the Zhao Family Fortress had been allowed to resume the surname Zhao by the Hongwu Emperor, thus restoring their identity as descendants of the Song imperial family. Jiang Shan had once considered contacting this family to endorse Zhao Yigong’s identity, but after discussion, they decided not to stir up trouble. After all, this family held no significant official positions and had retired from public life in the 28th year of the Wanli era. They had little influence.

“I believe that for at least a few years, it is not advisable to openly declare yourself as a descendant of the Zhao-Song imperial family,” Yu E’shui said after careful consideration at a Foreign Intelligence Bureau meeting on this issue. “Because many of the things you will be doing are public welfare activities for the masses. This already carries the suspicion of winning people’s hearts. To add the title of a descendant of the Song imperial family would attract unnecessary suspicion.”

Yu E’shui suggested that until the time was right, he could only hint at his extraordinary origins, but never openly and clearly state his identity.

“Alright. But doesn’t that mean my idea of building an ancestral hall is off the table?”

“You can build it in your own home. Just don’t build it on Phoenix Hill or by the West Lake,” Yu E’shui said. “You just need to show a faint ‘Song Dynasty flair,’ to evoke a sense of nostalgia…”

“‘Song Dynasty flair’?” Zhao Yigong scratched his head. He knew a little about the “Republic of China flair”—qipaos with bare legs and such—but what did the “Song Dynasty flair” look like?

“It just means showing a bit of the Song Dynasty style in your daily life,” Yu E’shui said. “I’ll get you a booklet later—a guide to Song Dynasty interior decoration and furnishings. Just follow that.”

“Done. I’ll also see if I can get some Song Dynasty antiques to display.”

“That will be difficult to find, and the price won’t be low,” Yu E’shui said. “Take your time. If you can’t get authentic pieces, start with replicas. The idea is what matters.”

However, so far, Zhao Yigong still hadn’t figured out what “Song Dynasty flair” meant. In general, it seemed to be a style of simple elegance. He was pondering how to explain it more clearly to Sun Wangcai.

“The house needs to be large, and the location quiet, but not too remote,” Zhao Yigong instructed in detail. “It must have a garden. If the location is right, even a dilapidated house or an abandoned garden will do.” Finally, he added, “When you go out, take a look at the pier and see if you can find that mark.”

Daoquanzi had traveled with him but they had parted ways before reaching Hangzhou. The Daoist priest believed it was best for the two groups to enter the city separately.

“When you see my mark, you’ll know I’ve arrived safely,” the Daoist priest had said. “Don’t come looking for me. I will find you when the time is right.”

“Look carefully. If it’s not there, you must go and check every day from now on.”

Sun Wangcai agreed and went to look for a house.

It was not easy to find a place to stay in a city like Hangzhou, and a suitable house was especially hard to find. Although Zhao Yigong had several thousand taels of silver with him, this money had to cover many expenses, so he had to spend it as sparingly as possible. Sun Wangcai searched for several days before finding a suitable house. The process of buying and transferring the deed took another ten days or so.

It was not possible to do anything secretive in the inn, so Zhao Yigong took his retinue to wander the streets and alleys of Hangzhou every day to familiarize himself with the local culture and geography, and also to practice his Hangzhou dialect.

The Hangzhou of the Ming Dynasty was no longer the “Xingzai” (temporary capital) of the Song Dynasty—in fact, few traces of the Xingzai remained. The year after the Song surrendered, a great fire destroyed the palaces of the Southern Song court on Phoenix Hill. In the fourth month of the first year of the Zhizheng era of the Yuan Dynasty, a fire broke out in Hangzhou, spreading from the southeast to the northwest. Nearly 30 li of official and private houses were burned down, with a total of 15,755 official and private houses, public offices, and temples destroyed. 10,797 households and 38,116 people were affected, and 74 people were burned to death. The following year, another great fire broke out in Hangzhou, burning down more than 40,000 houses. The severity of the fire was unprecedented, and this place, which had been prosperous for hundreds of years, gradually fell into decline.

At the end of the Yuan and the beginning of the Ming, Zhang Shicheng abolished the “Nine-Bend City” and rebuilt Hangzhou, conscripting 200,000 laborers to dig a river along the city walls. But shortly after the city was built, it was besieged by Chang Yuchun’s army. The siege lasted for more than three months, and the food supply was cut off. Six or seven out of ten people in the city starved to death. After the army retreated, more than half of the survivors died of disease.

It was not until the Yongle era that Hangzhou gradually regained its vitality and prosperity. As the premier city of Zhejiang, it was a hub for merchants and a center of bustling commerce. Jiangnan was the most prosperous and bustling region at the end of the Ming Dynasty, and according to modern estimates, Hangzhou had a permanent population of over five hundred thousand. After wandering around the city and its outskirts for a few laps, Zhao Yigong felt that there was even greater potential to be tapped here than in Guangzhou.

The house was in the “Upper City,” which, as the name suggests, was the “upper-class district” of Hangzhou. The house had a five-bay main building, with a total of three sections, side rooms on the left and right, a sedan chair hall in the front, and a large garden in the back. However, the garden was mostly abandoned. The previous owner had sectioned off a part to create a small, exquisite garden, leaving the rest to go wild. Zhao Yigong looked at it and was very satisfied. Although the house itself was not too large, the abandoned garden was very spacious, providing enough land to expand the garden and build more houses.

The quality of the house itself was still very good—it was said to have belonged to an official’s family. After the master passed away, his descendants were unworthy and quickly fell into decline, so they sold the house to divide the property. Sun Wangcai knew that the biggest problem when buying a house was disputes among descendants over property, which could lead to endless trouble. So he did not hesitate to spend extra money at the brokerage, and also had the matter specially registered at the county yamen’s household registration office to ensure everything was done properly.

After buying the house, Sun Wangcai went to a tea house and found a construction company to renovate and redecorate the entire house. At the same time, he had the abandoned garden slightly tidied up—for now, he had neither the financial resources nor the energy to expand the garden.

All kinds of furniture and daily necessities were bought in a hurry. Zhao Yigong instructed them not to buy too many things for now, just the essential furniture and items.

The furniture could only be second-hand. Fortunately, Hangzhou was a provincial capital with many gentry and wealthy households. With their ups and downs, there were always a few fallen families selling their property. There were also many officials here, and those who were leaving their posts had to dispose of inconvenient-to-carry furniture and miscellaneous items. Therefore, the second-hand shops were full of goods, business was brisk, and the prices were not too expensive.

Zhao Yigong did not want to appear like a nouveau riche, but he found it difficult to grasp what “Song Dynasty flair” meant. After much thought, he concluded that nouveau riche always liked new, big, and expensive things. To be low-key and tasteful, one needed “old goods.” But the price of these old goods could not be low. In short, things that looked worthless had to be actually very valuable. With this in mind, he had Sun Wangcai first buy some half-worn rosewood tables and chairs, and then added some decorative items to furnish the place.

As for calligraphy and paintings, he had brought a lot with him—many were works by minor artists from Guangdong and Guangxi, and some were by officials who had served in Guangdong. This both highlighted his Guangdong identity and strength, and also appeared elegant.

“I need to find a ‘qingke’ (scholar-retainer),” Zhao Yigong thought. Otherwise, if he had to handle all these things himself, he would definitely make a fool of himself. No matter how many history books he read, he was not a person of this era.

With money, things got done easily. The construction company finished the renovations, and the group moved from the inn to their new residence. In just three to five days, everything was in order. Even the servants—the cook in the kitchen, the doorman, the sedan chair bearers, and the maids for rough work—were all hired. This was a typical consumer city, with a huge population engaged in the tertiary industry.

Of course, these people were not reliable, but for now, the Guangzhou Station had no secret activities. He had to set up the scene first before he could start his activities. In the future, he would slowly select reliable and suitable candidates.

In his newly completed study, he was racking his brains over the problem of supplementing his staff.

There were plenty of reliable people in Lingao. Talents in all walks of life could be found among the naturalized citizens who had passed the political review in Lingao, but most of them were from Guangdong, Guangxi, Fujian, Jiangxi, and Hunan. There were a few from Zhejiang, but mostly from the south. People from the Jiangnan region were very few. And what he needed most now were local “pathfinders.”

In Guangzhou, they had Gao Ju. In Hangzhou, they were completely in the dark. Gao Ju had some business dealings in Jiangnan, but the relationships were not deep. His main connections were in Beijing. So, Gao Ju’s only use was to provide some business partners.

Li Luoyou did not have a large network in Jiangnan either. So it would be quite difficult for him to open up a social circle in Hangzhou. The scholar status obtained by the intelligence bureau was too low, and he lacked literary fame, making it difficult to make a breakthrough on this front. After much thought, Zhao Yigong believed that he still had to start with novel and ingenious goods. By opening a shop to sell new products, he could attract the attention of local merchants and even the gentry, and thus slowly enter the social circle of the local gentry and wealthy households.