Chapter 88: The Grand Eunuch

In April of 1631, even during the Little Ice Age, spring finally arrived outside the capital city. The willows on the earthen dikes and riverbanks were newly green, and the peach and apricot blossoms bloomed in succession, their delicate flowers swaying in the slightly chilly spring breeze. The earth turned green again, and the peasants who had survived the chaos of war and famine, though sallow-faced and in rags, were busy in the fields once more.

The first Manchu invasion, also known as the “Jisi Incident,” had ended last year. In the tenth month of the third year of the Chongzhen era, the entire invading Later Jin army had returned to Shenyang. The four cities of Zunhua and others, which had been garrisoned by their troops within the pass, were successively recovered by the Ming army. The burned houses had not yet been rebuilt, and the bones left over from the war could still be seen from time to time on the roadsides and in the fields. But the prefectures and counties of Northern Zhili, which had been in a state of panic due to the Later Jin invasion, finally breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the Great Ming, like the land itself, was about to welcome another spring.

However, many officials in the capital, regardless of their political stance, knew that the Great Ming was sick, and seriously so, as long as they had any sense. But at this time, no one could have predicted that the Great Ming’s days were numbered.

The most talked-about topics among the officials and scholars in the capital were still the Later Jin, which had gradually become a major threat to the court. As for the roving bandits in Shaanxi, the She-An Rebellion in Guizhou, and the “Australian rebels” in Qiongzhou… some people mentioned them, but most were not very concerned. Although He Rubin’s entire army had been annihilated in Qiongzhou with heavy losses, it did not cause much of a sensation. Compared to the loss of high-ranking officials like governors and governors-general in the She-An Rebellion, the highest-ranking official killed in the Battle of Qiongzhou was only a brigade commander. So far, no prefectures or counties had been lost.

The spring in Beijing was windy. The wind from the Mongolian Plateau, mixed with sand and dust, chapped people’s skin, and the streets were full of yellow sand. After a recent spring rain, the streets were muddy. In this mud, a two-man small sedan chair was trudging along, its two bearers splattered with yellow mud.

Behind the sedan chair were about a dozen porters carrying loads, all tightly wrapped in reed mats.

The curtain of the sedan chair was quietly lifted a crack, and someone glanced out at the street. If anyone could get close enough, they would have heard this person let out an almost imperceptible, contemptuous sneer.

The person in the sedan chair was Leng Ningyun, who had been sent to the capital to carry out his work.

Leng Ningyun had worked in finance and trust in the old world, was familiar with financial history, IPOs, and derivatives, and had a bachelor’s degree in management. He was fluent in English, could communicate simply in Japanese, and also knew a few phrases in French. The financial department of the transmigrator group was large and powerful, but the work that the financial department could do was too simple—a large number of finance professionals could only work as accountants.

Bored to tears, Leng Ningyun had the idea of being stationed abroad. After enrolling in the Foreign Intelligence Bureau for training, his financial background attracted the attention of Jiang Shan and others. In the end, he was sent to Beijing to serve as the head of the Beijing station and the manager of the Delong Bank’s Beijing branch.

The Beijing station was different from other overseas stations. It was not required to carry out commercial or industrial activities locally. Its main activities were intelligence gathering and attracting the “official’s purse” of the Beijing bureaucrats. Therefore, the Beijing station’s activities were mainly financial. It was most appropriate to have a professional in finance take charge.

Entering Beijing was easy, but carrying out activities in Beijing was not. In particular, Leng Ningyun’s main task was to attract deposits. How could the completely unfounded Delong Bank gain the trust of corrupt officials and make them feel at ease to deposit their silver in the Delong Bank? This was a major test for Leng Ningyun.

The person Leng Ningyun was going to visit at this time was a key figure for him after his arrival in Beijing—Eunuch Yang.

Eunuch Yang was Gao Ju’s major backer in the capital. When Wei Zhongxian was in power, he had once planned to build a living shrine in Guangzhou to curry favor with the “Nine Thousand Years Old,” but this plan did not materialize, and Eunuch Yang escaped disaster. After Wei Zhongxian’s fall, Eunuch Yang benefited from the misfortune and was not implicated. He quickly latched onto Wang Dehua, spent tens of thousands of taels of silver and many “Australian goods” sent by Gao Ju, and managed to take charge of the Bell and Drum Office. He had made a comeback.

Eunuch Yang, having returned to power, was much more cautious than before. He was not, after all, an old retainer from Prince Xin’s household. When the “Nine Thousand Years Old” was in power, he had not been “firm in his attitude and clear in his stance,” at most a fence-sitter. So now he rarely meddled in matters in the palace. Apart from his own duties, he never said an extra word.

Although it was spring, the weather was still very cold. Leng Ningyun shrank his neck, thinking about how to speak to this grand eunuch when he met him.

Apart from seeing them in movies and on TV in the old world, Leng Ningyun had never seen a eunuch—of course, the eunuchs in movies and on TV were also fake. What a real eunuch looked like, what kind of heart he had, was a difficult thing to fathom. However, a grand eunuch who could make a name for himself in the palace was undoubtedly a shrewd person. He had to be on his guard. After all, this grand eunuch’s attitude was crucial to the future development of the Beijing station.

He had already found out the location of Eunuch Yang’s private residence beforehand and knew that the master was coming back from the palace to rest tonight. At the gate, a servant sent in his calling card and Gao Ju’s “eight-line” letter. Not long after, a young eunuch who answered the door came out and invited him in.

To go and visit a eunuch and have to flatter him was something Leng Ningyun was naturally not very willing to do. In his mind, eunuchs were a group of sinister, cunning, and greedy people, and he held a certain contempt and disgust for them.

However, Leng Ningyun understood very well that in this struggle on the intelligence and commercial fronts in Beijing, the help of this grand eunuch was indispensable.

When he saw the young eunuch walk out with his calling card held high, Leng Ningyun gave a signal. His servant immediately took out a tael of silver from his pocket and stuffed it into the eunuch’s hand, while taking back the card. Only then did he compose himself and walk inside.

According to the court’s system, eunuchs, as the emperor’s personal attendants, had to live in the palace city, except for those sent on missions outside. But a grand eunuch like Eunuch Yang, with wealth and power, had a private residence outside. It was said that Wei Zhongxian’s private residence in Beijing was extremely luxurious, comparable to the imperial palace. Eunuch Yang’s residence, of course, was far from comparable to Wei Zhongxian’s. However, just from the fleeting glimpses he had on his way in, Leng Ningyun could already feel that this residence was not only large but also must be quite deep, and the architecture and furnishings were also very exquisite. It was clear that a great deal of money had been spent on its construction.

As the meeting approached, his mood instinctively tensed. He began to focus more on his mission and felt a new sense of unease and anticipation.

The young eunuch led him into a hall. After waiting for a moment, with a steady and unhurried sound of footsteps, Eunuch Yang came out from behind a screen. Leng Ningyun, following the proper etiquette, stood up respectfully to greet him, putting on a very deferential appearance.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that the grand eunuch was a sturdy man in his fifties. His neatly combed sideburns were clearly turning white. His bald chin, as usual, had not a single whisker. His well-fed, broad face glowed red. His large, thick lips, though smiling as usual, and his squinting, long eyes, clearly showed a look of doubt and inquiry.

The two exchanged greetings. As a protective measure for the safety of the intelligence agents and for the convenience of their activities, Li Yan had created false Guangdong household registrations for every agent sent to the Ming-controlled areas. He had also managed to get them some official titles. Some were legitimate government-supported students, some were attached students or supplementary students, and some were so-called students of the Imperial Academy. In any case, they were all obtained by spending money through the Guangdong and Guangxi officialdom.

Feeling that his purpose could not be explained in a few words, and since they were strangers, to reduce the trouble of retelling, Leng Ningyun did not engage in much pleasantry. He took out a secret letter from Gao Ju that he had prepared beforehand and handed it over with both hands along with the gift list. “This is what the great official Gao has ordered this student to present to you. Please have a look, Your Excellency.”

“Oh,” Eunuch Yang was not surprised. He had learned of Leng Ningyun’s visit from Gao Ju’s letter a few days ago. He glanced at his guest and then took the letter. “Please sit down, sir!”

He motioned for him to sit down while he himself sat down in a chair and began to open the letter.

The content of this secret letter was very simple. Gao Ju informed him in the letter that Leng Ningyun was one of Master Guo’s men and had come to the capital to open a bank and manage commercial affairs.

Gao Ju had never explicitly told Eunuch Yang about Guo Yi’s background. It was not that Gao Ju intentionally wanted to deceive him, but that Eunuch Yang did not want to know so clearly. Although he somewhat understood that Guo Yi had an unusual relationship with the “Australian rebels,” or “Australians,” and might even be one of them, he had no intention of exposing this. The business with the “Australian rebels” brought him a large amount of benefits every year, and he would rather play dumb and not know.

In case the “Australian rebels” did something “inappropriate” in the future and the court investigated, he could also shirk all responsibility.

This Leng Ningyun before him, needless to say, was also one of the “Australian rebels’” men, Eunuch Yang thought. He was surprised that the visitor was a young man. For a scholar, he was not exactly young, but for a merchant who was to take charge of a business on his own, the guest was too young.

He then opened the gift list. The gifts were very valuable, all popular and rare Australian goods. Among them, a half-length glass mirror was very valuable. It was clear that the other party was very sensible.

Out of caution, Gao Ju’s letter was written very briefly, only mentioning the matter. The specific details and plans were to be explained by Leng Ningyun himself. So from the beginning, Leng Ningyun had been paying close attention to the host’s expression, hoping to get a better understanding of his thoughts before the formal conversation began, especially to understand his basic character.