Beiyang Dream

Chapter 68 Everything we did was to build a garden for the Empress Dowager!

The front hall of Zhang Bishi's residence.

It was well dark outside, but the four large gas lamps in the front hall were brightly lit, making the mahogany furniture gleam. Chang Desheng was nestled in a grand chair, legs crossed, holding a cup of Pu'er tea, sipping it intermittently.

I can't do business in Pontianak alone; I need to get a few brothers involved. That way, if anything goes wrong, there'll be a way to avoid being punished in numbers! What? They don't want to? No problem, the little rich woman has everything arranged—how does she say it in Hakka? She'll knock them unconscious with silver paper!

On the opposite sofa sat Duan Qirui, Shang Dequan, Wu Dingyuan, and Kong Qingtang, each with a different expression.

Shang Dequan was getting restless and leaned forward, speaking in Tianjin dialect: "Brother Zhenbang, when are we going to Singapore?" Wu Dingyuan chimed in: "Yes, Brother Zhenbang, we still have to go back to Tianjin. It's almost March, if we go back too late, the military academy will be in trouble..." Kong Qingtang didn't speak, but his eyes also glanced at Chang Desheng.

Chang Desheng knew perfectly well that these men were eager to return home seeking official positions. Having gained some prestige in Prussia, they could at least become officers back home, earning a steady few hundred taels of silver a year. Who would want to wander aimlessly in this sweltering heat of Southeast Asia?

But before he could speak, Zhang Bishi, who was seated at the head of the table, spoke first.

"Everyone, please calm down."

Zhang Bishi had changed into a silk robe, was holding a folding fan, and had a smile on his face. He waved to the steward standing to the side, who understood, turned around, took a sandalwood box from the curio cabinet, and presented it with both hands.

Zhang Bishi opened the box and took out a telegram from it.

The paper was the special foreign paper used by the Zongli Yamen (Foreign Ministry), with the words "Minister of Commerce for the Northern Ports" printed on the top. The telegram was copied with a brush, the handwriting was neat, but the words... were rather vague.

Li Hongzhang, well, he's a real enigma!

"Gentlemen, please take a look," Zhang Bishi spread the telegram on the coffee table, pointing with his finger, "This is Li Zhongtang's telegram to me regarding the conflict between the Chinese and the natives in Pontianak."

Chang Desheng leaned over and took a look.

The telegram was short, just one line:

"The merchants of Pontianak are loyal subjects of the Chinese government. In the face of Dutch disputes, we should negotiate skillfully and ensure their safety. We may solicit donations as appropriate to assist the navy..."

Chang Desheng thought to himself, "Wow!"

Old Li's words were truly insightful.

"Negotiation is key to ensuring safety." What does "negotiation" mean? What does "protection" mean? Figure it out yourself.

"The necessary funds may be solicited through donations as appropriate." Need money? Just ask the wealthy people in Southeast Asia! It's not free; they have plenty of official positions to offer!

"As a gift to the navy"—it doesn't matter if there's too much money. Even if the coastal defense donation is made, where does it end up? Of course, it goes to the Summer Palace!

Seeing that everyone was reading the telegram, Zhang Bishi cleared his throat and began to "interpret" it:

"His Majesty's telegram is quite clear. First, it demands negotiation; second, it demands protection." He paused, tapping his folding fan in his palm. "As for the negotiation, as the Imperial Consul in Penang, it is my duty. But as for protection..."

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over Duan, Shang, Wu, and Kong:

"I believe that, ultimately, we must help the Chinese in Pontianak protect themselves! But how can the Chinese protect themselves? You are all brilliant individuals who studied military affairs in Prussia, do you have any... good ideas?"

There was a moment of silence in the front hall after these words were spoken.

Duan Qirui, Shang Dequan, Wu Dingyuan, and Kong Qingtang all looked at Chang Desheng.

Chang Desheng turned another page in his mental calculations: Old Zhang was setting the stage. Alright, it's my turn.

He put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, and looked completely nonchalant.

"Lord Zhang, this is easy to handle."

"Oh?" Zhang Bishi raised an eyebrow in agreement.

"We can teach those Chinese estate owners," Chang Desheng said, counting on his fingers, "first, fence off the estate with barbed wire—it's cheap, effective, and can keep livestock and people out. Build several bunkers inside, brick and stone structures, three feet thick walls, with firing ports on top. Mount Maxim machine guns on top of the bunkers; they have a long range and high firepower. Also, equip them with a few small cannons, like the new Schneider mortars, which fire indirect fire—perfect for hitting people hiding in ditches."

He paused, then added:

"Build watchtowers at the four corners of the village, set up telescopes, and deploy snipers—all skilled marksmen—to target the enemy leaders. With this setup, as long as there's enough ammunition, defending this small village will be foolproof."

He said it calmly, as if it were nothing special.

But in the front hall, Shang Dequan, Wu Dingyuan, and Kong Qingtang were all stunned.

Barbed wire... Maxim machine gun... Mortar... Sniper...

Is this what they call "protecting the village"?

How is this any different from armed separatism?!

Wu Dingyuan opened his mouth, but no words came out. Shang Dequan's eyes widened. Kong Qingtang, a bit taciturn, swallowed hard. Only Duan Qirui wasn't stunned; his expression simply changed.

He first frowned, then narrowed his eyes, stared at Chang Desheng for two seconds, and then... suddenly realized!

That's it!

It turns out that Chang Desheng and Zhang Bishi were already in cahoots. They wanted to make a big splash in Southeast Asia, and they even used the Beiyang government as a front. They probably even colluded with the Germans. Chang Desheng, how dare you!

Aren't you afraid things will escalate and the Dutch and British will go to the Zongli Yamen in Beijing to file a complaint? Even Li Hongzhang won't be able to protect you then! Duan Qirui's mind was in turmoil, but he tried his best to keep a straight face.

Zhang Bishi spoke up again at this point, his tone very "embarrassed":

"Lord Chang's method is good, but... these Maxim and the cannon are not easy to deal with."

Duan Qirui sneered inwardly: Not easy to handle? Didn't Chang Desheng already get his goods for you? What are you pretending for?

Zhang Bishi continued, "Even if we managed to get them, they wouldn't be very useful. Those wealthy men in Pontianak, though they have plenty of money, know absolutely nothing about foreign guns and cannons. So…"

His gaze swept over the crowd again, finally settling on Chang Desheng's face:

"Therefore, I was thinking that since you are all military experts who studied in Germany, could you... trouble yourself to make a trip to Pontianak? Go and teach Lord Luo Zhenxing, the Kapitan of Pontianak, who is a seventh-rank official of the Qing Dynasty, a proper court official. He is in dire need of someone knowledgeable to guide him."

Luo Zhenxing?

Duan Qirui immediately guessed it.

Luo... Luo Jingrou's father!

He suddenly turned to look at Chang Desheng, his triangular eyes blazing with anger.

Chang Desheng, Chang Desheng, you bastard! After all this time, you've gone through all this trouble, dragging us into this mess, all to help your future father-in-law!

You've killed two birds with one stone! You've pleased your father-in-law while also getting us all on your pirate ship!

Duan Qirui clenched his fists in his sleeves. He really wanted to stand up, point at Chang Desheng's nose, and curse him as a "traitorous scoundrel," before storming off. But just then, Luo Jingrou emerged from behind the screen.

She carried a small brocade pouch, walked to the coffee table, opened the pouch, and took out eight banknotes.

The paper is pale yellow, printed with Javanese and Dutch script, and in the center is a large "1000". There are also a few Chinese characters – Javanese Bank voucher, payable on demand.

This is like throwing money at someone!

Luo Jingrou first handed two "silver notes" to Shang Dequan, her voice soft and gentle: "Brother Shang, this is a small token of my appreciation, please accept it." Shang Dequan took it blankly, then looked down and saw that there were two "silver notes" worth 1000 dong each!

Zhang Bishi, standing nearby, "timely" explained: "These are banknotes from the Java Bank. They can be paid on demand. These two banknotes can be exchanged for two thousand silver dollars—that is, Dutch silver coins. One silver dollar can be exchanged for nine mace of treasury silver."

He paused, then added, "Two thousand dong is equivalent to eighteen hundred taels of silver."

One thousand eight hundred taels!

Shang Dequan was completely bewildered. Even if he returned to Tianjin and was granted an official position, he would only earn a few dozen taels of silver a month at most. Saving up 1,800 taels was simply impossible!

Wu Dingyuan took the two banknotes that were his, feeling a little dizzy.

Kong Qingtang accepted the money, and the usually taciturn man finally managed to stammer, "This...this is too much..."

Luo Jingrou smiled, revealing two dimples: "It's nothing, just a small token of my father's appreciation. He'll reward you handsomely once it's all done!"

And there's more!

The three men, Shang, Wu, and Kong, all had one thought: This sister-in-law... no doubt about it!

She walked up to Duan Qirui and handed him two pieces of "silver paper".

Duan Qirui did not answer.

He stared at the pale yellow banknote, then looked up at Chang Desheng.

Chang Desheng spoke up at this moment, his tone casual: "Zhiquan, just take it. This isn't about exploiting soldiers or embezzling military pay; it's your hard-earned money, earned honestly and fairly."

He paused, lowering his voice slightly, but everyone in the front hall could hear him:

"Besides, this was ordered by the Grand Secretary to have Lord Zhang protect wealthy overseas Chinese merchants! We are simply carrying out the Grand Secretary's telegram!"

Zhang Bishi immediately chimed in, "Yes, yes, yes! Your Excellency is even planning to sell official positions in Southeast Asia to raise funds for the navy!"

Chang Desheng lowered his voice even further:

"This donation for coastal defense... is ultimately intended as a tribute to the Empress Dowager for the construction of her garden."

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on Duan Qirui's face, and said, word by word:

"So our trip to Pontianak to teach the Chinese landowners how to build fortifications and use guns to protect their property is in exchange for their gratitude. They will then donate more money to the navy, and the navy will use that money to repair their estates..."

He paused, then drew a conclusion:

"We're helping the Empress Dowager Cixi renovate her garden!"

Can you do this?

Shang Dequan, Wu Dingyuan, and Kong Qingtang looked at the banknotes in their hands, then at Chang Desheng, and the same thought was running through their minds: 1,800 taels... to help the Empress Dowager repair her garden... this is loyalty!

This sister-in-law gave so much!

I absolutely have to help!

Duan Qirui, however, found it absurd.

That's really ridiculous.

Smuggling arms, arming overseas Chinese in Southeast Asia, and recruiting Beiyang military officers into his ranks... This string of head-threatening activities, in Chang Desheng's mouth, were actually described as an act of loyalty to "raise funds for the Empress Dowager's garden construction"!

Duan Qirui himself was ashamed of his ability to distort the truth.

But he also knew in his heart that Chang Desheng wasn't entirely wrong. In the Qing Dynasty, anything related to "serving the Empress Dowager" was considered right and loyal. Anyone who opposed it was considered "disloyal."

Despite Chang Desheng's audacity, if he were to offer the Empress Dowager a sum of 100,000 to 200,000 taels of silver for the Summer Palace project, and the foreigners did not file a complaint with the Zongli Yamen (Foreign Ministry), Chang Desheng would be promoted to the rank of fourth-grade Dao (a high-ranking official).

As for Duan Qirui, even if he wanted to expose someone, he would do so in front of the Grand Secretary.

The Grand Master... will make the decision!

Thinking of this, Duan Qirui took a deep breath and reached out to take the two banknotes.

"Brother Zhenbang," he said calmly, "then I'll listen to you."

Chang Desheng laughed and patted him on the shoulder: "That's right! We're all working for the court, so why distinguish between you and me?"

He turned to Zhang Bishi and asked, "Lord Zhang, when shall we depart?"

Zhang Bishi closed his folding fan: "Three days later, on February 24th, a steamship owned by my Guangfu Shipping Company will depart from Penang for Pontianak... a direct voyage to Pontianak, without stopping in Singapore. Let's go together."

"Alright!"