Chapter 171: Smear Him

Cao Guangjiu was not a surprising character. The first time Gou Chengxuan met him, he knew he was a “worn-out boot” type. Although they didn’t have this term in Lingao, Cao was cut from the same cloth. Back then, the scholars of Lingao had cursed him as a disgrace to the literati.

“Calling me a disgrace, yet every single one of you went and surrendered to the kūnzéi thieves!” When Gou Chengxuan woke from nightmares, painfully aware of his own downfall, he would always remember the Lingao scholars who had cursed him and his father. He hated the kūnzéi thieves even more for their poor judgment, for not trying to win over his Gou family first and instead colluding with those salt mongrels.

In truth, his family would have had no qualms about surrendering to the kūnzéi thieves. It was just that the kūnzéi thieves had treated his family like a wild monster to be slain first, leaving the Gou family with no opportunity to even betray their country. Now it had escalated into a matter of national and personal hatred, a painful feeling of “no gateway to treason.”

This intense sense of loss, coupled with his own family’s decline, filled Gou Chengxuan with a fierce hatred for the kūnzéi thieves. He felt he had no choice but to fight them to the death.

This wasn’t the first time he had come to Hao Yuan’s place. The man was very strange: he lived in a stinking slum, yet his room was kept immaculately clean.

His manners were refined, he was tidy, and he could read and write. When he spoke, he wove grand principles with minor truths, creating a flawless argument of reason and human sentiment… Gou Chengxuan believed he was no “mechanic,” but a man of scholarly background.

But this scholar was too unusual. He didn’t show off his scholarly status and could endure living in such a squalid environment. Gou Chengxuan knew that the Master gave him ten taels of silver each month for personal expenses. As for the funds for “operations,” they amounted to several dozen taels a month, and in recent months, sometimes even hundreds of taels.

In a world where the idea that “one takes a cut of what passes through one’s hands” was deeply ingrained, even an open secret, where even the great gentry families tacitly allowed their servants to take kickbacks and inflate expenses, Hao Yuan could have easily skimmed some personal profit from the money he handled.

Even if he were truly noble and unwilling to profit from it, his ten taels a month in personal expenses were more than enough to rent a decent house in the city and hire a woman to serve him. After all, a yamen secretary’s annual salary was only about one hundred and twenty taels.

Yet Hao Yuan lived in this dilapidated hut without a care, eating meals of coarse rice and grains with vegetables, all provided by the villagers from nearby. He usually helped the villagers by writing letters and contracts for them or reading out official announcements. As for meat or fish, he only ate the cheapest stinking fish and shrimp from the riverside; Gou Chengxuan had never seen him eat meat.

Gou Chengxuan had secretly sent people to inquire about Hao Yuan’s activities here. He learned that Hao Yuan had an excellent reputation among the surrounding poor, who all respectfully called him “Mr. Hao.”

Hao Yuan usually acted as a “scribe” for people. Not only was his calligraphy excellent, but the content he wrote was also thorough and appropriate. When people encountered difficult problems, they would ask for his opinion, and he always gave very suitable advice. He also took the initiative to visit the dilapidated homes of various families. If someone fell ill and the family was short-handed, he would stay up all night to watch over them. If they had no money for medicine, he would pay out of his own pocket. Whenever a family faced an insurmountable difficulty, he would always do his best to help.

The common people are the most sincere at heart. If you treat them with sincerity, they will give you their hearts in return. In their eyes, Hao Yuan was a “saint.” They liked him, respected him, and trusted him more and more. He held great prestige throughout the entire Nanxiawa slum.

Gou Chengxuan was very wary of this man. He believed in the principle “every man for himself, or heaven and earth will destroy him.” He, Gou Chengxuan, had also suffered greatly and endured hardship. But that was out of necessity, for the sake of revenge. It was hatred that had sustained him through his struggles to this day. Moreover, if conditions allowed, he would never pass up an opportunity to take money that came his way and enjoy himself.

For a person to be without desire, to not covet wealth or pleasure, to be content with poverty, yet be willing to be kind and helpful to others everywhere—it could only mean that his ambitions were immense. Gou Chengxuan had, after all, read a few history books. He had mentioned this to the Master many times, but the Master always responded with a noncommittal, enigmatic smile, leaving him baffled. Perhaps it was just that those in higher positions and those in lower ones understood things differently?

Sometimes, Gou Chengxuan even felt a twinge of jealousy: it seemed the Master and Hao Yuan understood each other better.

This impression deepened with each of his encounters with him. Although Hao Yuan claimed to be a mechanic, his manner of speaking was neither servile nor overbearing. His amiability was infused with a firm self-confidence, completely unlike people from poor backgrounds who were either too timid to speak a word or acted as if they’d swallowed gunpowder, ready to argue with everyone about everything.

“…The Master’s intention is to continue the rice riots and make them even bigger,” Gou Chengxuan relayed the Master’s instructions. “Not only must we continue, but we must also expand the scope, especially to the other counties in Suzhou Prefecture, to link the rice riots together.”

A worried expression appeared on Cao Guangjiu’s face, but Hao Yuan remained calm. He thought for a moment and said, “This is not difficult. Although Suzhou Prefecture wasn’t hit by disaster last year, the people’s lives are not easy. This year’s income from sericulture was also severely damaged by Zhao Yigong. Furthermore, a large number of flood refugees from Jiangbei and Shandong have poured in. These people are like powder kegs, ready to explode with a single spark.”

“Then we’ll have to trouble Mr. Hao.”

Hao Yuan smiled. “How can I accomplish anything alone? I still have to rely on the Master’s help! The task is easy enough, but it will require Master Cao’s assistance.”

Providing the men was Cao Guangjiu’s job. Cao Guangjiu was very familiar with the gangs in Suzhou and Hangzhou and could gather a group of people with a single call. Every time there was a rice riot, it was this group that mixed into the crowd to act as support, taking the lead in everything from incitement and rabble-rousing to storming the rice shops.

Cao Guangjiu coughed. “The men are no problem. They get paid, so what’s not to like for this bunch of troublemakers? It’s just that if we make such a big scene, the yamen will eventually take notice. If by some chance they catch a few and interrogate them harshly, these guys are not exactly heroes who value loyalty. A few words and they might implicate us…”

Gou Chengxuan laughed. “You can rest assured. If that really happens, I guarantee they will never make it to the courtroom.”

Cao Guangjiu nodded, knowing this was no empty threat. A chill went down his spine. How could he know if he wouldn’t become one of those who “never make it to the courtroom”?

At this moment, Hao Yuan spoke up. “I agree with escalating the matter. Right now, this is the only way to fight for the people’s benefit. But our current methods aren’t enough to direct the blame towards Zhao Yigong. The common people don’t realize that their suffering is all his doing. We need to give them a reminder!”

Gou Chengxuan nodded. “You’re right. The Master has the same idea. He plans to issue another batch of posters…”

“Posters are fine, but they must be easy to understand. Ballads would be best.” Hao Yuan took out a draft of the poster that Gou Chengxuan had brought last time from under his sleeping mat and said:

“These posters are good, and relatively easy to understand, but they are still too profound for the common people—how many of them can read? It would be best to turn them into catchy ballads that are easy to remember and recite. That’s how they’ll spread. The content of the posters must focus heavily on the fact that he is buying up rice to ship out for huge profits.” Hao Yuan continued, “As for things like army provisions, don’t get into that. It involves too many people, and they’ll band together. We should just focus on beating Zhao Yigong, this drowning dog.” “If we do that, the common people will surely hate him to the bone.”

“We need them to hate him to the bone. Only then can we mobilize the people to burn down the Zhao Family Villa.” Hao Yuan suddenly laughed, took a sip of yellow wine, and continued, “The posters don’t need to be well-printed. Thin paper will do. Print a hundred thousand or so and paste them all over the prefecture and counties. Then get a few people to read them out to the public. In less than ten days, the news will have spread. By then, this Master Zhao will be infamous throughout Jiangnan.”

“Brilliantly said, Mr. Hao.” Cao Guangjiu clapped his hands and laughed. “Since ancient times, the words of children have been treated as prophecies. If we can create a song for the children to sing in the streets and alleys of Hangzhou, I’m afraid this Master Zhao won’t be able to sleep at night.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean.” Hao Yuan nodded. “The rice riots were to get everyone’s attention. Now that we have it, we need to escalate it to public opinion. The officials and gentry have noticed. We don’t have to worry about it not reaching the ears of the highest authorities. Seething public resentment leading to a popular uprising—those two things alone are enough to finish him. When the time comes, even if he has powerful backers, they’ll have to sacrifice a pawn to save the king.”

Cao Guangjiu said, “His backers are not simple…”

“Isn’t it just that bunch of Christian gentry?” Hao Yuan said dismissively. “Grand Secretary Xu is already sickly; I doubt he’ll live past this year. Sun Yuanhua is a clay bodhisattva crossing a river—he can’t even save himself. The rest of them are all insignificant.”

“And what about the Fu She?”

“As long as we ruin Zhao Yigong’s name and turn him into a public enemy who harms the people, the Fu She, who care so much about their scholarly reputation, will rush to distance themselves from him. Even if they have secret dealings, they wouldn’t dare to support him openly. Besides, this is a popular uprising. Even if the gentry support him and help him get through this, and the imperial court and local government don’t pursue his crimes, his Phoenix Mountain Villa and Wanbi Bookstore will be reduced to ashes. Starting over from scratch would be impossible for him.”

Gou Chengxuan, being an outsider, didn’t think much of it. But for Cao Guangjiu, who had lived in Jiangnan for a long time and knew the local customs and social dynamics well, it was a quiet shock. He couldn’t believe that this outsider, who had appeared out of nowhere, understood the situation in Jiangnan and the scholarly circles so well. While this level of insight might be common among scholars, it was extraordinary for a commoner, especially one who claimed to be a “mechanic.”

“Mr. Hao is right. The key is to ruin Zhao Yigong’s reputation! The more it stinks, the better.” Gou Chengxuan beamed. “When his house and businesses are burned down, everyone will clap and cheer. Maybe someone will even write a novel about it, ‘The Tale of Black and White’.”

The three of them burst out laughing together.