Chapter 468: The Collaborators
The days of “enjoying the fruits of victory” were always particularly sweet. Li Cunfa and the monk Daoliao had been lining their own pockets, making a fortune. Both were now living an “Australian lifestyle.”
But greed knows no bounds. The profits from monopolizing the mat grass business could no longer satisfy their appetites. The commercial economy of the Pearl River Delta was developed, with a large proportion of cash crops in agricultural production, and the rural high-interest loan market was very active. Li Cunfa and the monk began to operate a lending business. With the halo of being “Australian liaison officers,” they were considered local powers. This provided them with a background, and they had the capital accumulated from several years of the mat grass business. The business quickly got on track and prospered. Gradually, their capital became insufficient. So they set their sights on the “reasonable burden.”
The reasonable burden in Sanliangshi was paid in silver. As Hu Xuefan had said, it took some time for mat grass to be converted into silver, so a delay of a few months in paying the “reasonable burden” in Sanliangshi was accepted. Li Cunfa began to push the boundaries, delaying the payment for another month beyond the normal delay.
In one month, this sum of silver from the reasonable burden could generate a lot of interest. It was a good trick of using the chicken to lay eggs.
However, there are no secrets that can be kept forever. Although they had not embezzled the Australians’ money, it was still somewhat “improper.” Li Cunfa had been feeling uneasy—he had heard that the Australians were very particular about money.
This time, when Chief Hong suddenly summoned the liaison officers from all the villages and towns that paid the “reasonable burden” to a meeting in Guangzhou, he became a little flustered. But he didn’t dare not to go. After arriving in Guangzhou, he learned that it was a “mobilization meeting.”
This mobilization meeting was very strange. The meeting was presided over by “Australian chiefs,” and the agenda was very simple: in addition to the reasonable burden, each village had to establish a special “public granary” and pre-store a certain amount of grain according to the village’s grain production, to be “available for use.”
Besides grain, each village also had to prepare firewood, repair a certain number of boats to be “on standby,” and register the number of able-bodied men. This made the liaison officers from all the villages feel a little uneasy. It seemed like preparations for the “passage of troops.” The Australians had laid siege to Guangzhou just a few years ago. Were they planning to demand a “ransom” again?
If the yamen were to do this, the villages would have been in an uproar long ago. The “passage of troops” was not much different from being raided by bandits. Even if the main army did not pass through their village, just supplying firewood and grain was a heavy burden. They would also have to negotiate with the clerks of the military affairs office and pay a sum of silver to appease the yamen runners and the officials at the grain depot. Otherwise, their grain would be declared “moldy and old,” and their firewood “rain-soaked and waterlogged,” in short, “delaying military affairs.”
Because the Australians had left the impression of “not taking a single needle or thread from the people,” and it was known that they paid for all requisitions besides the reasonable burden, the common people were not so afraid. However, war was never a good thing. If the Australians and the government troops were locked in a stalemate, and both sides passed through their villages back and forth, then nothing could be guaranteed.
The liaison officers who came to the meeting all returned with their own thoughts. Li Cunfa had also wanted to hurry back and discuss with the monk Daoliao: even if it meant losing the interest, they had to get back the money they had lent out. If war broke out and chaos ensued, the money they had lent out would be in jeopardy. Unexpectedly, he received a notice to stay behind, as an “Australian” wanted to see him.
“Are you Li Cunfa, the liaison officer of Sanliangshi?” the Australian opposite him asked. Seeing his kind face and hearing his slightly strange but understandable Cantonese, Li Cunfa’s mood calmed down a little.
“Yes, I am Li Cunfa,” he said with a bow.
“Have a seat.”
“Yes, thank you.”
The reason Hong Huangnan had summoned Li Cunfa was not simply because of his arrears in the reasonable burden—in fact, that was not under his jurisdiction. The reason he wanted to clarify this matter was to use it as a small handle.
As a Senator, he didn’t need to resort to such means against a semi-naturalized citizen. But what he wanted to do was actually related to the No. 82 store—it was a private matter, and not something he could openly discuss.
“What is your business in Sanliangshi?”
“I make a living by selling mat grass,” Li Cunfa said cautiously.
“The profits must be good,” Hong Huangnan said casually, observing the other’s reaction. As expected, Li Cunfa’s body trembled slightly—there was indeed something fishy.
Hong Huangnan was not yet clear on what exactly Li Cunfa had been up to, but he could see that this matter made him fearful in front of the Senate. Considering that the reasonable burden of Sanliangshi, though delayed, was paid in full, it was likely there were matters of bullying and exploiting the local people.
“The mat grass business must be doing well,” Hong Huangnan said. “I remember the local tyrant who was hanged was also in the mat grass business.”
Li Cunfa said with a stiff upper lip, “Master Luo was a big merchant. I am just a small merchant, no comparison, no comparison.”
“Whether you can compare or not, you know best in your heart,” Hong Huangnan didn’t waste any more words. “Are you only selling mat grass now?”
Li Cunfa was so frightened by the previous sentence that his soul almost left his body. Fortunately, the next sentence did not pursue the matter, and his soul returned. He quickly said, “Besides selling mat grass, I also have it woven into mats to sell.”
“Many people in our town make a living from this,” Li Cunfa said. “Even ordinary women, by helping to braid the grass and weave mats, can earn a little money to supplement their family’s income after a season’s work.”
“Can you weave mats of this style?” Hong Huangnan took out a thick booklet. Li Cunfa took it and saw that it was a catalog of various mat patterns, most of which he had never seen before, with dozens of different styles. This must be another Australian product! He hesitated, “Some can be done, others I haven’t seen the actual product—if there is a real product, a skilled craftsman can understand it by taking it apart and looking…”
“Good.”
Li Cunfa was a little confused, not knowing what “good” meant. But he heard Hong Huangnan say, “For this year’s mats, don’t weave them for now.”
Li Cunfa felt as if he had been struck by lightning, thinking that Senator Hong was going to punish him. His face turned pale, and he stammered, “This, this, if we don’t sell mat grass and don’t make mats, we won’t be able to pay this year’s reasonable burden. Besides… besides…” A thought struck him, “Many people in Sanliangshi rely on weaving mats to make a living. If we don’t let them weave, wouldn’t that be, wouldn’t that be…”
“I didn’t say you can’t weave,” Hong Huangnan said. “Gather all your craftsmen and women and have them weave straw bags. When the rice is harvested, you will also need to use straw to weave them. I will send someone with the pattern for the straw bags.”
“Yes, yes.” Li Cunfa was still confused.
“I need a large quantity of straw bags. As many as you can make,” Hong Huangnan said. “You can rest assured, we will pay for the straw bags at a fair price.”
“Yes, I understand.” Li Cunfa calmed down. But in an instant, he understood: the Australians were definitely going to war!
Straw bags were mostly used for bulk goods. The most common uses were for rice, salt, and sugar. The reason the Australians wanted him to prepare a large number of straw bags was obvious: they were going to use them to transport grain to supply their army.
What are the Australians planning with such a grand display? Li Cunfa’s hair stood on end. But at this moment, he couldn’t be bothered with these things. Seeing that Chief Hong was signaling for him to leave, he quickly took his leave.
“I must get back to Sanliangshi at once!” This was the only thought left in his mind.
“Husband, why aren’t you sleeping yet?” his wife asked, sleepily climbing out of bed. She looked at Lin Ming, who was wrapped in a robe and staring blankly at the moonlight. Bibo, under his feet, probably felt hot, as half of her body had already crawled out from under the covers, revealing a snow-white shoulder.
Her husband, who had been away from home for almost a year, had suddenly returned a few days ago. Lin Ming’s wife and concubines almost didn’t recognize the man who used to be so handsome and full of heroic spirit. He was now dark and thin, dressed in ragged clothes, his hands covered in calluses. Although he hadn’t said anything about his experiences since his return, Lin Furen and the four concubines all knew that their husband had suffered greatly on this trip.
At least he had returned safely. The wife and concubines, who had been constantly worried, were finally relieved. Their husband was the pillar of the family; without him, there would be no home. A welcoming feast was a matter of course, and they attended to his daily needs with the utmost care and consideration.
After Centurion Lin returned, he went back to his post as usual, reporting for duty every day. Besides his renewed vigor in the bedroom with his wife and concubines after a long period of abstinence, there was not much different about him. He had just become a man of few words and had little interest in drinking and making merry with his wife and concubines at home. It seemed something was weighing on his mind.
Lin Furen got up, poured Lin Ming a cup of warm tea, covered Bibo with the blanket, and whispered, “Husband, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” Lin Ming said.
“Husband, you must have suffered a lot this time,” Lin Furen said, seeing that it was late at night and Bibo was sound asleep, a good time for a private conversation between husband and wife. “Although Qianqian was not found, you did your best to find her. It was her fate that she was not found… Husband, don’t blame yourself too much.”
“I’m not worried about her,” Lin Ming’s feelings were very complicated. After being captured in Lingao, he had formally surrendered to the Cropped-Hairs, having witnessed their power and fearing death. After a brief period of political study and training, he was released back to Guangdong and told to “lie low” at home, awaiting orders from a messenger.
Although he felt he had seen the “grand trend” and knew that in a few years, the Australians would sweep across the mainland and contend for the throne, he still felt a faint sense of shame for surrendering to the enemy. He was a centurion of the great Ming, a title passed down for generations. His family had been officials for several generations. To have surrendered to the enemy just like that? Every time he thought of this, he felt very uneasy.
Although the Australians hadn’t made him shave his head and had let him return to his family, it came at a price. Needless to say, when the Australian army arrived, he would be a natural collaborator. At that time, he would probably have to shave his head, change into the Australians’ short clothes, and “become a founding hero of a new dynasty.”