Chapter 761: The Joyous Lion Dance at the Cutting Ceremony
If the town of Huangpu was already prosperous in the past, it now felt utterly unfamiliar to those who had visited it a year earlier. Shops lined up one after another; on just Hengdian Street alone, there were eighteen merchant guilds and twelve maritime guilds, all with large storefronts three bays wide and one depth. Customers came and went in an endless stream, and the shopkeepers and clerks wore smiles on their faces. Several of the merchant ships that set sail last December had already returned safely, and in recent months, the number of ships from Western islands had more than doubled, making business extremely booming.
On this day, the already lively town of Huangpu was even more crowded than before—because the new dock there was officially inaugurated today. The old dock had been converted into an inland dock, serving ships traveling to Qiongzhou Prefecture, Fujian, Guangdong, and the Jiangsu-Zhejiang regions. Although the government employed many laborers, they were provided with three meals a day. Though their wages were still unpaid, five ships from the fleet that set sail at the end of last year had already returned, with small boats sent ashore to report their success. Now, from merchants in Foshan Town to the hardworking craftsmen and commoners, everyone was eagerly awaiting the arrival of those five ships once the new dock was in use.
Of course, Zhang Yue wouldn’t take all the credit for such a joyous occasion. He invited the two main officials from the military and judicial departments, as well as Zhang Qian and the imperial censor Yu Qian. After the messengers sounded the gongs to clear the way, three groups of escorts armed with spears and steel clubs led the way. Then, several large palanquins passed by the street one after another, followed by many guards carrying swords—far more grand than an ordinary official procession. Even merchants who had come from other places, hearing that the Guangdong Maritime Administration was fair and did not extort, were amazed by the scene—not because of its imposing scale, but because it showed the integrity of the Guangdong government in even the smallest matters.
At least on the surface, these three administrative departments and the imperial censor were united.
At the dock, officials from the Maritime Administration were already directing laborers to build a platform. The governor of Guangzhou and officials from Nanhai and Panyu counties also came to join in the celebration. All except those left behind from the administrative departments were present. Standing on the platform, Zhang Yue saw officials wearing black hats and round-collared shirts everywhere. Beyond them, in addition to the messengers and patrolmen maintaining order, there were many merchants dressed in silk and satin—yet the scene remained quite quiet.
Zhang Yue had never been one to indulge in long speeches. With the scorching sun of the day, he simply praised the officials in charge of building the dock as well as the craftsmen and commoners, and encouraged the officials at all levels. Then he nodded at several high-ranking officials beside him, and they all stepped forward together to the red ribbon adorned with six beautiful silk flowers.
The original completion ceremony was extremely simple, but since the new dock was completed at the same time as overseas treasure ships returned, Zhang Qian suggested holding a proper celebration, vowing that the Municipal Maritime Office would cover the costs. With the rice crops growing exceptionally well that year and business thriving, Zhang Yue also wanted to celebrate properly. So he ordered that the ribbon-cutting ceremony, which had not been seen in years, be arranged, and he managed to persuade Yu Qian, who initially thought it was too extravagant.
When the five people picked up the scissors from the tray beside them and neatly cut the ribbon, the six strong men standing in front of the silk flowers immediately raised the tray high. The one in the middle even threw the largest silk flower. In an instant, a lion dancer who had been waiting by the platform leaped out with a somersault, skillfully catching the silk flower with the lion’s mouth. As he landed, the other silk flowers were also thrown out, and almost simultaneously, five colorful lion dancers appeared.
Although this lion dance was different from the lion dances in Guangzhou as remembered by Zhang Yue and even seemed somewhat simple, it was a sight-new experience for the local gentry and commoners, while foreign merchants watched in awe. Amidst the cheers, the artists specially invited from Foshan by the Provincial Administration showed off all their skills—running, jumping, and acrobatic moves that were quite impressive. Zhang Yue thought that since today’s lion dancers all came from the common people and lacked martial arts training, they could hardly perform difficult stunts like ribbon-catching or high-stick acts. He pondered for a moment but sighed when he thought of the phrase “heroes breaking the law through violence.”
If things really turned out like in the movies, with martial arts schools everywhere and Huang Feihong competing as the lion king, that would be a disaster.
Below, there was a sea of joyous excitement. The high-ranking officials on the platform, though more reserved, also stood in groups, smiling and discussing the scenes that were not often seen before. Zhang Qian naturally stood with Zhang Yue. He watched with a smile as the six lion dancers placed the silk flowers back on the six wooden poles that had been prepared earlier, then asked Zhang Yue with a laugh, “This lion dance performance is quite good—vibrant and festive. It’s thanks to you for bringing so many people from Foshan; otherwise, just the ribbon-cutting ceremony would have been too dull. The merchants in Foshan Town are quite smart for recommending such people to you.”
“Actually, I’ve read a few anonymous books before, and the lion dance performances in those books were even more amazing. Those dancers could perform on poles three feet high, moving around, leaping, and flipping—it was truly spectacular. But to do that, one needs considerable skill. And if one has such skill, it’s impossible for them to choose lion dancing over a career in the military. Having them here is just to add some liveliness and festivity, so that these people won’t have to worry about making a living in the future. Lord Zhang, think about it—after today’s event, how many shops in Guangzhou and Huangpu Town will open or invite them for festivals?”
“Look, you always bring it back to your field of expertise. Before you know it, you’re back to talking about business. You really are…”
Though joking, Zhang Qian tilted his head and thought about the high-pole lion dance Zhang Yue mentioned, feeling somewhat intrigued, but then dismissed the idea. Seeing a group of officials from the provincial level, a group from the military level, and another from the regional level on the platform, with only Yu Qian standing alone, he couldn’t help frowning and sighed softly, “It’s been half a year since he took office, yet Yu Tingyi still doesn’t fit in with others. He’s too straightforward. But because of the issues related to the second and third harvests, he’s been out most of the time, rarely staying in Guangzhou. A few counties tried to please their superiors by ordering the people to convert mulberry fields and even mountainsides into rice fields, but thanks to him, no major mistakes were made.”
“Not bad. Without someone like him, we would only see the short-sighted desires of those below and the achievements they report. Even well-intentioned actions for the benefit of the people can turn into bad things if not done properly. That’s why the imperial court appointed him as the censor in Guangdong—now we can rest assured. In the past, Wang Anshi enjoyed great fame for twenty years, and his reforms weren’t entirely useless, but it was the wrong people in charge that turned them into tools for factional strife. Now, although it’s just simple rice cultivation, forcing it through could still lead to bad outcomes despite good intentions. With someone as upright as him around, there’s no need to worry about people faking achievements.”
“Uprightness is rare. Such a person would be most suitable paired with someone as strict as Gu Zuo at the Censorate. In the capital, Huang Huai has retired and Lu Zhen is dead; others say one troublemaker and one slick tactician are gone, but that’s not really the case. They say the emperor is wise and the ministers are virtuous, but even among virtuous ministers, there can still be scheming… Enough, it’s not our concern since we’re not in those positions.”
Zhang Qian sighed, then smiled again. “By the way, officials in Guangdong fear Yu Qian like a tiger. Not to mention the Provincial Administration Office, even the Provincial Judicial and Military Offices avoid him at all costs. Over the past six months, he’s submitted five or six memorials each month, all substantive—unlike other censors who fill them with trivial matters. You probably don’t know that even people like you and me have criticized him two or three times, not to mention Li Long and Yu Liang. It’s truly rare to find a censor as upright as him…”
Seeing Yu Qian standing alone there without showing any sign of loneliness, Zhang Yue ultimately didn’t approach him. As for being impeached, he didn’t care much—after all, it hadn’t happened often before. When he heard Zhang Qian gradually mention the celebration of the completed dock, he couldn’t help but think of the money spent on it: “Now, Eunuch Zhang is the biggest wealth god in our entire province of Guangdong. Sea merchants are still preparing ships, and not many are setting sail yet, but since April, foreign merchants’ ships have been coming continuously. Your tax collections must be overflowing every day. By the way, that small boat that arrived at the dock yesterday said that Eunuch Zheng and his men have wiped out several pirate groups that had just begun to gain strength in the Western islands. I guess this time, in addition to cargo, there might also be envoys.”
“The increased revenue is because no one dares to falsify accounts to cheat; there’s always a bit more money. Although Li Wenchang, the head of the Maritime Administration, is an infuriatingly stubborn man, he’s extremely meticulous when it comes to accounting, so one can trust him. As for the envoys, dealing with them is manageable, but don’t let so many people come to the capital—otherwise it will waste money and grain… Ah, look, the ships have arrived at the port!” Amidst the loud drums and gongs, more people turned their gaze toward the sea outside the dock. Though these few ships were far fewer than the thousands that covered the sky last winter, not only were there many merchants from Foshan Town, but also the craftsmen and laborers responsible for building the new dock, all eagerly awaiting their arrival. As soon as the first ship anchored steadily, someone stepped onto its thick planks, and several soldiers in red coats rushed down the planks in quick strides before shouting at those on the ship. Soon, more planks were set up on top of the ship, and this time a group of over a dozen strong and muscular soldiers came down. Seeing Zhang Qian and others already waiting on the platform to greet them, the leading officer quickened his pace. Upon approaching, he knelt down respectfully and saluted, “I am Xiang Jiao, a hundred-man officer of the Divine Might Left Guard. I pay my respects to all of you, lords.” When Zhang Yue came over, he recognized this man as Xiang Jiao—the same soldier who had been taken to Zheng’s residence on Ma Fu Street in Nanjing years ago for borrowing grain at night, and who had later followed Zheng He on his voyages. When Zhang Qian told him to stand up, he couldn’t help but examine this old acquaintance from head to toe. Seeing him full of energy and looking healthy, he smiled slightly. Xiang Jiao glanced at the others but only recognized Zhang Qian and Zhang Yue. Remembering Zheng He’s instructions before departure, he didn’t dare speak too plainly and simply reported with clasped hands and lowered head, “I am ordered by Lord Zheng to lead five ships of the Great Ming Divine Might Fleet back.” This brief statement greatly disappointed Li Long and Yu Liang, who were eager to learn about the gains from this voyage. After Gu Xingzu, the Marquis of Zhenyuan, had had his title revoked, Li Long, thanks to a few kind words from Zhang Yue and Zhang Qian, not only wasn’t punished for his previous actions instigated by Gu Xingzu but also received praise and encouragement. Now, he preferred to stay in Guangdong and didn’t want to leave. Yu Liang, too, had heard through his own channels that he would return to the capital after completing his term, so he aligned himself even more closely with the Provincial Administration. Yet, despite being on the same side, they still coveted this big deal jointly orchestrated by the Provincial Administration and the Maritime Administration.
How could Zhang Yue not know what others were thinking? Yet, this wasn’t a matter of whether to keep the money for oneself or not; he urgently needed it, and part of it was meant to be turned over to the national treasury. After all, last year’s autumn harvest had left the administration facing a severe famine. Seeing Zhang Qian give him a signal, he nodded and said, “Captain Xiang, you’ve worked hard on this journey. There’s a banquet at the Three Ministries’ office on Caiyun Tower at noon, but it’s crowded there. Why not rest in Lord Zhang’s private residence east of the dock?”
Back in Nanjing, he had dared to act recklessly at night and had spoken openly and boldly to Zhang Yue about whether to pay in rice or cash. Naturally, Xiang Jiao wasn’t someone quick-witted by nature. But he had one advantage: he was extremely grateful for favors. Only after the imperial army dismissed a group of the elderly and weak to live in Nanjing did he get promoted to captain. This time, Zheng He even entrusted him with such an important task. Silently following Zhang Qian and Zhang Yue to the small courtyard east of the new dock, he stepped forward as soon as they entered, taking out a ledger from his bosom and presenting it to Zhang Yue.
“Lord Zhang, this is a detailed account of the goods on these five ships.”
Zhang Yue flipped through it briefly before passing it to Zhang Qian beside him. Then he smiled at Xiang Jiao and said, “I’ll have someone knowledgeable review the accounts later. But I’d like to hear your explanation of the details.”
Hearing this, Xiang Jiao was momentarily stunned. Seeing Zhang Yue smiling at him, he immediately remembered what Zheng He had said—that he had been appointed captain precisely because of his honesty and courage back then. He straightened up and said, “To report to Lord Zhang, after arriving in Luzon, Lord Wang has already set off with twenty ships further west, accompanied by several local guides who are familiar with the sea routes. Besides sandalwood, ebony, and various types of wood from Western islands—used as ballast—these five ships were originally supposed to carry dyes, pepper, and other goods. But since Guangzhou is not what it used to be, Lord Zheng instructed that these items not be used instead, and instead, gold, silver, agarwood, ambergris, rhinoceros horn, ivory, gems, and agate should be brought instead. Much of this is meant as tribute to the imperial court, while the rest can be used to cover the value of previous shipments…”
Compared to the eloquence of those seasoned officials, Xiang Jiao’s report was rather disorganized. At first, he talked about the cargo on the five ships, but suddenly shifted to describing the scene of suppressing pirates at sea. After a while, he talked about the lively occasion when meeting the foreign king. Only toward the end did he realize he had rambled on without coherence, and he grew embarrassed: “These five ships also brought back about 2,200 taels of gold and 26,000 taels of silver.”