Chapter 454: The Expert in Cropped-Hair Studies

Huang Binkun was at a loss for words for a moment. Yes, what were the Cropped-Hair Bandits after? To make themselves emperors? Although their territory was not large, occupying the entirety of Qiongzhou Prefecture was a considerable achievement. If they intended to rebel, their warships and cannons could sweep through half of China without a problem; the government troops were no match for them.

If they wanted to change the dynasty and contend for the Central Plains, they could have crushed any armed force on the mainland since their bombardment of Humen and the bloodbath at Zhongzuo. Although the Cropped-Hair army seemed small, if they were to charge into Guangdong and issue a call to arms, they could raise an army of several hundred thousand in an instant. In these times, as long as there was military pay and grain, there was no shortage of poor people willing to become soldiers.

But they just stayed on that island of Qiongzhou, tirelessly building roads, setting up iron wires, clearing land for farming everywhere, building water conservancy projects, recruiting refugees, and establishing schools… They had turned a desolate island into a thriving place. Not only that, but they seemed to take pleasure in it, creating all sorts of strange “Australian gadgets”—in Huang Binkun’s view, these “gadgets” were utterly meaningless, a waste of money and resources.

He thought for a long time before saying, “I see it now. They want to create a ‘New Australia’!”

“New Australia?!” a few people exclaimed in surprise.

“That’s right!” The more Huang Binkun thought about it, the more he felt his guess was correct. He then recounted his observations and thoughts one by one. The others listened very carefully.

Although their knowledge of the Australians was extensive, it was mostly derived from Australian books, periodicals, and rumors. None had the firsthand experience of someone like Huang Binkun, who had lived in Lingao for a long time and had frequent contact with the real “Cropped-Hairs.” Hearing Huang Binkun’s words, they were both surprised and delighted.

“Warships, cannons, and machines, in the end, are just clever tricks and toys. Having them adds color, but their absence doesn’t affect the grand scheme of things,” Huang Binkun said eloquently. “If they wanted to contend for supremacy, why would they print these Australian studies books and spread them throughout the world? I am in Qiongzhou, and I see the common people gradually adopting Australian methods, getting used to their new language, and eagerly following their customs. Even the Cropped-Hairs’ style of dress has become fashionable, and children sing their nursery rhymes…”

“Using barbarian ways to change China!” Young Master Liang said softly.

“Exactly!” Huang Binkun slapped his fan shut with a snap. “As for the claim that they are descendants of the Great Song, I absolutely don’t believe it. How could descendants of the Great Song change their own dress and cast aside the attire of their ancestors? Besides saying a few phrases like ‘our Great Song’ and ‘the Australian court in exile,’ they neither observe the taboos of the Song emperors’ names nor use the laws and institutions of the Great Song.”

“As for ‘using barbarian ways to change China,’ that’s just wishful thinking,” Lin Zunxiu said with a smile.

Everyone nodded. Then, Lin Zunxiu began to ask him many questions about the Australians. Unlike the banquet the other day, where the scholars’ questions were mostly about overseas oddities, Scholar Lin’s questions were mostly about the laws, institutions, and governing strategies implemented by the Australians in Qiongzhou. Not only were the topics clear, but they were also profound. Some questions were far beyond the scope of Huang Binkun’s knowledge.

As the conversation grew more animated, Lin Zunxiu exchanged a look with Liang Cunhou, who nodded. Scholar Lin said, “Brother Huang, please follow me.”

The group stood up. Lin Zunxiu led them towards the rear courtyard, to a small building standing alone in the center, not connected to any of the surrounding houses. Huang Binkun was secretly puzzled: what kind of layout was this?

Lin Zunxiu took a key from his sleeve and opened the door. The ground floor only had some large water vats, all filled with clear water, with a staircase in the middle. Huang Binkun suddenly understood: it was a library.

The group ascended the stairs. The second floor was indeed lined with bookshelves, piled high with all sorts of books. Huang Binkun had a vague feeling that something was amiss, and then he realized: all the books collected here were Australian books!

Huang Binkun had seen the scale of the Australians’ libraries, and this collection was nothing in comparison. But for a scholar’s private villa to have so many Australian books was a first for him.

Lin Zunxiu said, “I’ve instructed my servants to collect any Australian books available on the market, not even sparing their storybooks and novels. But it’s a mixed bag, good and bad together. I don’t know which are useful and which are not. Brother Huang, since you’ve come from Lingao, I must ask for your guidance.”

Huang Binkun looked around. The collection of books was truly comprehensive. From the various “magazines,” “pictorials,” and “readers” he had seen in the Guangzhou bookshop, to the “textbooks” that were only available in Lingao… it had everything. In a corner was another shelf, piled high with something he was very familiar with: the Lingao Times. Almost every gentry family in Lingao subscribed to a copy to study the Australians’ policy trends.

“Lingao Times!” he couldn’t help but exclaim, walking quickly to the bookshelf.

He saw that the newspapers were stacked neatly by month and date. However, judging from the condition of the paper, they didn’t seem to have been read much.

“This is the Australians’ official gazette, which I specially commissioned Proprietor Guo to purchase from Lingao,” Liang Cunhou said. “He sends it to me once a month. Looking at the dates, is it published daily?”

“Exactly!” Huang Binkun said. “It’s a daily paper, published every day.” He caressed the paper. “There’s a great deal to be read in this paper!”

“Please enlighten us, Brother Huang!” The eyes of the several men lit up. They knew this newspaper was equivalent to the Australians’ “court gazette,” and reading the gazette to understand the court’s direction was an age-old practice. But they had no idea how the Australians’ “court” operated or how to interpret it. Moreover, this Australian gazette was a jumble of everything from astronomy and geography to farming seasons and city life. It was very difficult to discern the “direction” from it.

Huang Binkun was quite pleased with himself—the gentry in Lingao had already developed a certain understanding of how to judge what the Australians were up to from the Lingao Times. He casually pulled out an old newspaper.

The headline on the front page was “Maintaining Maritime Trade Order is the Inescapable Responsibility of the Senate.”

“Gentlemen, please look. What does this article tell you?”

They all read it. The article was a mix of narration and commentary, basically saying that maritime trade order must be stable and secure to benefit the livelihood and prosperity of the coastal nations, and so on.

“I can’t see anything,” Wu Ming spoke up. “I think it’s just the sea power that the Australians are always trumpeting.”

Huang Binkun nodded, turned to the second page, and pointed to an article there. “Now look at this one.”

The title of this article was “Another Tragedy in Quanzhou Prefecture—A Maritime Merchant’s Entire Family Commits Suicide.” The article described how a certain sea merchant, for failing to purchase a trade flag from the Zheng family, had his ship intercepted by Zheng Zhilong, and all his cargo was confiscated. The merchant went bankrupt and his entire family committed suicide.

The group fell silent, lost in thought. Huang Binkun then flipped to another page, where there was another article: “What is Limiting the Pace of Chinese Sea Merchants.”

“…And this one: A Record of European Nations’ Voyages (Serial).”

“These?” Several people looked at Huang Binkun with puzzled eyes—they vaguely understood, but it felt like there was still a veil over it.

Huang Binkun pointed to the date. “The date this paper was published was three months before the Australians attacked Zhongzuo and defeated Zheng Zhilong…”

“I see! I see!” Scholar Shi was greatly excited. “Brother Huang, your words have truly awakened me from a dream!”

“You flatter me!” Huang Binkun said. “This newspaper not only reveals the direction of the Cropped-Hair Australians’ court but also other things. It’s full of wonders.”

“We will have to ask for more of your guidance in the future, Brother Huang!” Lin Zunxiu was also very happy. “Brother Huang is truly the foremost talent in Cropped-Hair affairs! To meet you today, we must drink to our heart’s content.”

By the bamboo grove, in the bamboo lodge, the group talked freely and openly. The western sky gradually turned from bright to crimson, and finally, the setting sun broke through the clouds, revealing its fiery corner for a final moment before sinking behind the western mountains. The afterglow dyed Baiyun Mountain red, heralding a clear day tomorrow. Lin Zunxiu waved to a servant outside the window. When the man came in, he ordered:

“Prepare a banquet. Tonight, I will drink with my brothers until we are all drunk!”

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A few days after returning from the bamboo lodge, Huang Binkun found himself inexplicably an “expert in Cropped-Hair affairs” and a “master of Cropped-Hair studies.” Visitors flocked to his inn every day, making the place as crowded as a marketplace, which made him very uneasy. Fortunately, with Liang Cunhou’s help, he soon moved out of the inn and into a temple in the city for temporary lodging. The environment here was quiet, the rooms elegant, and Lin Zunxiu even sent a handsome young servant to attend to his daily needs. His days were quite leisurely.

However, his attempts to secretly visit the civil and military officials and advisors who had participated in the campaign against the Cropped-Hair Bandits, whose names he had obtained through Young Master Liang, came to nothing. When he entered their gates and said he was from Lingao, they were all polite and invited him in, the doorman not even asking for a tip. But once inside, the conversations with the masters were just a few pleasantries before he was shown out. Although a servant would come the next day with a gift of local products, there was no further contact.

On this day, Huang Binkun was rebuffed again. Frustrated, he walked back. It was already lamplighting time. Although Guangzhou had no curfew, there were few pedestrians on the road. On the way back to his lodging, Huang Binkun kept feeling that someone was following him. When he was just one small alley away from the temple, he saw a figure flicker at the corner, seeming to hold something. Huang Binkun didn’t overthink it and prepared to take a detour around the alley. But as soon as he turned, two dark figures rushed out from the corner, swinging sticks at his head. Fortunately, Huang Binkun had experience fighting bandits and had been in battle. He was agile and quick-witted, easily dodging the stick aimed at his head. He punched one attacker in the face and kicked the other away. He turned to run, but saw three more men with sticks running towards him. The men surrounded him. Huang Binkun saw that all five were dressed in scholar’s robes, but their skin was dark and their arms were muscular, clearly having done farm work. The one in the middle shouted, “Cropped-Hair bandit! Don’t run!”