Chapter 199: The Undercurrent of Competition

This Taoist temple was in a state of utter disrepair. The dilapidated rooms in the first courtyard had previously been inhabited by beggars, and now they were even more crowded with refugees. Zhang Yingchen passed through the narrow alley and went to the back. The lay practitioner was chopping firewood. He gave a cursory greeting and headed towards his own small courtyard.

The courtyard was not large. On the dirt ground were a brazier and charcoal, as well as many jars and pots. The air was filled with the smell of vinegar-charcoal and disinfectant. Zhang Yingchen knew that a flood had just passed, and now that the water had receded, the temperature was rising rapidly. An outbreak of infectious disease was imminent. Although his veins were full of antibodies, it was better to be careful.

Ming Qing greeted him at the door of the room. This young Taoist novice from Qingyun Temple had officially become his “disciple” in Hangzhou. After his careful training, he was now a reliable and capable assistant. He was also responsible for the preliminary training of the two Taoist students—Ming Qing, at least, was literate.

“Master—” Ming Qing said respectfully.

“Let’s talk inside,” Zhang Yingchen said.

Ming Qing was not yet a formal naturalized citizen, so Zhang Yingchen had some reservations about him. He only tried to instill in him the theories of the new Taoism and his own religious views, while also teaching him medical knowledge. As for the Senate that worked for the welfare of humanity, he had not yet revealed anything. Zhang Yingchen only told him that he was a Taoist priest from Guangdong province—after all, Qiongzhou was under the jurisdiction of Guangdong at that time.

The central hall was cluttered with bamboo trays for medicinal herbs, cutters for slicing herbs, stone mortars for pounding herbs, earthenware pots for decocting herbs, copper pots, and charcoal. It was almost impossible to find a place to stand. In order to treat as many people as possible, in addition to the Chinese patent medicines and Western medicines brought from Lingao, many of the medicines were prepared by him locally.

Two young Taoist students sat on the heated brick bed in the room, sorting medicinal herbs. They were both teenagers in their early teens. Their parents and relatives had died or been separated in the disaster, and they themselves were half-starved. After being taken in by Zhang Yingchen and nursed back to health for many days, they had finally begun to look like human beings again.

Seeing him return, the two children immediately got off the heated bed and bowed to him awkwardly.

“Good, good, you can continue preparing the medicine,” Zhang Yingchen said with a smile. “How is it? How many medicinal herbs can you recognize?”

“Only a dozen or so…” one of the children replied.

“Well, I use few medicinal herbs here, so it’s difficult for you to recognize more. Tomorrow, when we go to the pharmacy to get medicine, I will point out a few more for you to learn on the spot.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Now, besides Ming Qing teaching them to read, Zhang Yingchen also took the time every day to teach them to identify medicinal herbs and memorize the “Song of Decoction Formulas,” providing them with a basic introduction to Chinese medicine. Overall, he was quite satisfied with these two children; they were much better than the Taoist students he had acquired before.

But these two children should not stay with him for long. They had not been purified, their bodies were relatively weak, and the environment in Yizhou was complex. He had to make arrangements to send them away.

Zhang Yingchen took a key from his waist and opened the door to the inner room—this was his private chamber. He hid his most important things here, which were mainly medicines and medical equipment. The most important among them were his writing chemicals and codebook.

Upon entering the inner room, Ming Qing first reported on the household affairs: how many new characters he had taught his two junior brothers, the progress of medicine preparation, who had come looking for Zhang Yingchen, and any unusual occurrences outside.

The most suspicious thing was that three or four strange beggars had moved into the outermost courtyard of the temple. Unlike the others who were weak and listless, they looked full of energy. They didn’t often go out to beg, but sometimes stayed by the gate. One of them often loitered near the back gate of the temple.

“Well, you’ve done very well,” Zhang Yingchen praised him. “We are strangers here, so we must be extra careful. You may go out now.”

He locked the door and lit the oil lamp—the shutters had already been lowered, and the room was pitch black. Seven or eight days ago, a death threat written in crooked characters had been thrown into his courtyard. He had to be careful.

Zhang Yingchen had previously read a large amount of Taoist materials and had also dabbled in many books, secret society jargon, and research papers on various folk religions and secret societies of the late Ming. But after being here for more than half a month, he deeply felt that the historical materials were too limited. The situation he faced was more complex and difficult to grasp than what was recorded in the books.

Just from what he had gathered, there were more than a dozen secret societies active in this area, taking advantage of the famine to proselytize, develop their organizations, and win over the people. Some of them he had never even heard of.

Zhang Yingchen touched the pistol holster at his side: a Glock 19. When he went to the Li areas, he could go without any weapons without a care. Neither the Li nor the Miao people would kill randomly, let alone a doctor. But the current situation in southern Shandong was a hornet’s nest. Both the Foreign Intelligence Bureau and Zhao Yingong had opposed his operating alone in a county without logistical support.

Moreover, his current actions were suspect in the eyes of both the government and the secret religious societies. If he wasn’t more careful, he could lose his life in an instant. Zhang Yingchen sometimes admired himself for being a man of “faith.” He dissolved a special writing chemical in clear water, then dipped a brush in it and began to write quickly.

The letter was for Zhao Yingong. Zhang Yingchen was anxious to know how his progress was in Shandong. Had he established a relatively stable base? Not only did he have manpower to send, but he was also in urgent need of a supply of medicine from Zhao Yingong’s channels.

He blew on the first letter to dry it, then wrote some irrelevant content in the spaces between the lines of the secret message with a brush. After sealing the letter, he wrapped it in oilcloth and sealed it with wax. Tomorrow, he planned to personally deliver it to a shop in the city. That shop had clerks who went to Linqing every three or four days to deliver letters and run errands. For a small fee, they would deliver it for him. When the clerk arrived in Linqing, he would hand the letter to the local Qiwei Escort Agency. The agency would use carrier pigeons to transmit it. Within three or four days, the letter would reach Hangzhou, and then it would be sent out by telegraph. Within a week, Zhao Yingong and Lingao would know the contents of his letter.

Although this transmission speed was miraculous for this era, it was still unimaginably slow for the Elders. And there were too many uncertain factors.

Zhang Yingchen had no other choice. This was not a place where the Wuxing Wushang or the Black Dragon Society had established a presence. The nearest contact point was in Linqing, a major shipping town on the Grand Canal in Shandong.

The second letter required more caution. He not only used the writing fluid but also converted the message into code before writing. This was a proposal and plan for how to carry out further activities in Shandong, and the content was very sensitive. Apart from his deputy, Dai E, and the head of the Religious Affairs Office, he did not want anyone else to know about it for the time being. As an independent department, the New Taoism had its own codebook, just like the Lingao church. However, He Ying, as the director of the Religious Affairs Office, had the codebooks for both.

In fact, in the mind of Patriarch Zhang, there was an even bigger and more radical plan. The letter discussed a targeted plan for the Dengzhou Mutiny:

“Old Dai, I hope this letter finds you well:

As Operation Engine unfolds, as a glorious member of the Senate, you and I must make all possible preparations for the Dengzhou Mutiny. Considering the urgency of time, it is difficult to maximize the transfer of population by relying solely on the native bureaucrats. Therefore, I have referred to the incident of the Queen Mother of the West’s talismans during the reign of Emperor Ai in the ‘Treatise on the Five Elements’ in the ‘Book of Han.’ I feel it is necessary to take advantage of the already rampant folk religions and the worship of the Unborn Old Mother in the Shanxi-Hebei-Shandong-Henan region to create a bit of panic and spread the legend of a holy ship that will rescue all beings at sea a little earlier. I have also conveyed this opinion to the Grand Library and the intelligence departments. I believe this plan has a certain value for Operation Engine. However, the uncertainties are also worrying. Please discuss this with Yu E’shui on my behalf, and also with Director Zhao. In my opinion, no one would be more interested in this plan than he is…”

Some things were not mentioned in Zhang Yingchen’s private letter, such as how many tragedies would be caused by a blind outbreak of popular unrest. Clearly, Zhang Yingchen had deliberately ignored this part. It was no wonder he did not mention using the New Taoism as a tool for spreading rumors and guiding public opinion. In the eyes of Patriarch Zhang, it was better to leave such dirty work to the folk religions that were destined to be suppressed.

As he wrote this part, Zhang Yingchen couldn’t help but hesitate. He felt that He Ying would most likely strongly oppose his plan. The personal risks he would be taking in this plan were enormous, and if something went wrong, it would be difficult for Old He, as the head of the department, to bear the responsibility.

Never mind, he thought. To get more people, it was necessary to make Shandong even more chaotic. At least in the intelligence and civil affairs departments, his idea had received a lot of support. However, with his current pathetic execution capability, he himself had no idea how much effect it would have.

“Nothing can be done without people!” Zhang Yingchen once again thought of the boys around the congee yard with great distress. What a great resource!

At this thought, his blood boiled. Why not just recruit seventeen or eighteen of them and be done with it? They could be sent directly to Linqing and transported back to Jiangnan by the Qiwei Escort Agency’s boats.

Then, he added at the end of the letter that Old Dai should send a few reliable Taoist students who were currently in training and could speak good Mandarin to Shandong for use. He also added a few more sentences, asking Dai E to find a way to get a few Qiwei bodyguards or members of the Special Reconnaissance Team to Shandong to “assist,” especially to protect his own safety.

After finishing the letter, he stood up and stretched his back, then walked to the outer room to watch the Taoist students process the medicinal herbs. The “epidemic” after the flood was almost all intestinal infectious diseases, and the medicine was simple. The Taoist students were mostly processing this type of medicinal herb. In addition, he also had a special “anti-diarrhea medicine” on hand.