Chapter 186: Beijing (Part 1)

The people of Beijing had seen much of the world, so they always carried a sense of pride and self-satisfaction.
Everyone knew that among the destitute bannermen in the streets might be former nobles, and those listening to stories in teahouses could be idle court officials. Even the famous actors in theaters might be nothing more than puppet masters with hidden powers.
Thus, no matter what news came, it hardly stirred up a fuss among them. Even the two invasions by foreign powers failed to shake their composure: “I heard that Li Hongzhang and the French envoy Bao Hai reached an agreement, and the Sino-French military conflict can now be put aside…”
“I know. But that won’t bring back the money I have at the Fukang Bank…”
“That’s right. If the Sino-French conflict ends, maybe Fukang can survive a few more years…”
They weren’t concerned about the Sino-French conflict but rather about the survival of the Fukang Bank, which was directly related to their daily lives.
With the collapse of Fukang came a wave of failures among banks across the country. Fukang was small—only with a capital of a few hundred thousand—yet it was also large, with over 30 million taels in deposits on its books. When it collapsed, countless other banks and money houses followed suit, or at least had to suspend operations temporarily.
The failures of these financial institutions signaled a tightening of credit, severely impacting domestic and foreign trade, which relied on loans for business. The market naturally declined. In modern terms, this was a classic economic crisis.
In history, it took the Qing Dynasty several years to recover from such a crisis. Its impact was second only to the most famous economic crisis in late Qing history—the rubber stock crisis of 1910.
That crisis was also caused by Chinese banks and money houses speculating in worthless rubber stocks from Southeast Asia, compounded by the arbitrary actions of the Shanghai governor, leading to an uncontrollable situation. The economic crisis devastated the entire Chinese economy and only began to recover after World War I.
This time, however, the economic crisis triggered a political crisis, which in turn led to revolution. The Qing Dynasty perished in the turmoil caused by this economic crisis.
In this timeline, the economic crisis triggered by Fukang was further amplified. Although, as in history, Fukang’s collapse was an inevitable outcome—whether or not affected by the Sino-French conflict—the many people here wrongly linked Hu Xueyan’s financial troubles to the Black Flag Army. “I heard from people in the palace that once the Sino-French conflict ends and the remnants of the rebels stop causing trouble, everything will get better…”
“That’s true. It’s said this whole mess was caused by those rebel elements. Thanks to Li Hongzhang’s decisive action, the war can be averted…”
…
“This time, Li Hongzhang was truly decisive in signing this new Sino-French treaty—his contributions are undeniable…”
Li Hongzhang, squinting as he read Zizhi Tongjian, smiled slightly upon hearing Zhang Peilun’s words. “It’s not such a great achievement. But it’s still a good thing that Qinxuan can establish his own domain now…”

Qinxuan was Pan Dingxin’s courtesy name. During the negotiation of a new treaty between China and France this time, Li Hongzhang smoothly appointed him to the important position of governor of Guangxi. Although it was a transfer from governor of Hunan to governor of Guangxi—a move at the same rank, which even seemed like a demotion—Guangxi was a strategic military region of utmost importance. In essence, Pan Dingxin was promoted by half a rank, becoming a true high-ranking official. Moreover, Hunan was the birthplace of the Xiang Army, and Pan Dingxin, being from Huai, had been heavily restricted there. In Guangxi, he could act more freely: “This time, all the troops in Beining have gone north, and the war situation is out of control. I negotiated a new treaty through talks, and by the way, I helped Qinxuan as well. What do you think of the outcome?”

Beijing always received news from Vietnam much later than Paris. Although Hanoi was thousands of kilometers away from Tokyo, the lack of fully extended telegraph lines meant that Li Hongzhang had no idea that a massive war was unfolding in Vietnam. He had always been indifferent to foreign affairs, content as long as things could be glossed over, without any deeper consideration, and his assessments of the situation were also superficial. Historically, he had signed a treaty with the French by leveraging the influence of Zhenan Pass, but his timing was unfortunate—just a month later, the Vietnamese king broke ties with the French in Hue. Although the attempt failed, the war continued, and it took the French over a decade to pacify the entire country. By then, the Qing army and the Black Flag Army had already been forced to withdraw from Vietnam, left to watch helplessly.

Now, Li Hongzhang’s superficial approach yielded unexpected results. The treaty proposed by French envoy Bao Hai involved continuous concessions, with almost all terms accepted. Among the officials, there was one named Xue Fucheng, who came from the Zeng family’s circle and was highly capable: “Your Excellency, this time the French are not ceding territory or paying compensation; instead, they’re giving us foreign currency. They must have ulterior motives…”

Although Bao Hai’s treaty involved ceding all of Vietnam, in Li Hongzhang’s eyes and that of the entire court, it preserved both face and substance—no territory lost, no compensation paid, no need to open trading ports or protect missionaries. The French even agreed to jointly administer Vietnam, allowing it to continue paying tribute as usual. Yet Li Hongzhang knew full well that joint administration was just empty talk; once Vietnam fell into French hands, it would never again pay tribute to China. But since he began handling foreign affairs, this was the first time such terms appeared: “The French are willing to lend our country 2 million gold francs. This is a good thing. Our dynasty has always had good relations with the French; the only dispute is over the southern regions. Why should our dynasty fight with them?”

What he really had in mind was Pan Dingxin. Since most of the Xiang Army was disbanded and the Huai Army rose to prominence, many Xiang Army commanders became governors. In contrast, few members of the Huai Army, the backbone of the Qing military, held such positions. This was both due to taboo against the Huai Army within the palace and Li Hongzhang’s deliberate suppression. Li Hongzhang himself came from the Xiang Army. Back then, he led nine battalions from the Xiang Army to assist Shanghai. The Zeng brothers had hoped he would raise funds for the Xiang Army, but once he arrived in Shanghai, he turned against them, not only refusing to support them but also trying every means to strangle them. Since he had risen to power in such a way, he naturally feared his subordinates might follow in his footsteps, so he did everything possible to suppress them. To date, only three people from the Huai Army had reached the rank of governor.

One is Zhang Shusheng, who was completely overwhelmed by Li Hongzhang as soon as any sign of success appeared; now he is the governor of Guangdong and Guangxi. Although he wasn’t directly in charge of the defeat in Beining, he still has to take responsibility, and it’s unlikely he’ll remain in office for long. Moreover, his role as governor of Guangdong and Guangxi may not be very beneficial to the Huai Army. The other is Liu Bingzhang, who was also recognized and valued by Li Hongzhang, but as soon as he showed ambitions to become another Zuo Zongtang, he was pushed aside. As for Pan Dingxin, he can be considered someone close to Li Hongzhang. “If Qin Xuan can quell the bandits, he could surely avenge the shame of the past…” Upon hearing this, Zhang Peilun immediately understood what Li Hongzhang was thinking: “Shandong? But the Black Flag bandits are extremely strong and difficult to subdue!”