Chapter 72: The Wedding (Part 2)
Huang Chongying, Wu Lingyun, Liu Yongfu, and others primarily used people from Guangxi, rarely recruiting Vietnamese into their ranks. On one hand, the remaining forces of the peasant armies scattered outside Zhen Nan Pass numbered seventy to eighty thousand, even if not a hundred thousand. Some Qing army leaders, fearing dismissal upon returning to China, preferred to stay in Vietnam and fight as long as they received pay. These Guangxi-based peasant soldiers were seasoned veterans, brave and skilled in battle—far stronger than the weak Vietnamese peasants. On the other hand, it was due to funding issues; neither Wu Lingyun nor Huang Chongying, nor Liu Yongfu could conjure up funds out of thin air, so they relied more on Guangxi natives and recruited many Vietnamese locals.
Now, however, the Xi Liu Camp was making an exception—almost every sentry post had a small number of Vietnameses, and even the engineering battalion was formed mainly of Vietnamese. Thinking of their connection with the Hua Jian Sect, Huang Zuo Yan grew increasingly worried. This was like another Li Yangcai! Unlike people like Liu Yongfu, who would rather hold a high rank in the Qing Empire than a second-rank position in Vietnam, these people had taken root in the land, exploiting its resources, which could lead to serious future problems. The prosperous scenes along the way only reinforced his concerns.
Northern Vietnam had been ravaged by war, while Shanxi remained prosperous. Despite the strong military atmosphere, the region was bustling with traffic and trade—it had inadvertently become a crucial opium distribution center in Northern Vietnam. The Xi Liu Camp had set up several tax checkpoints in the province, each staffed by armed tax collectors. Due to Cheng Zhan’s wedding, most checkpoints reduced taxes by half, causing long queues of people waiting to pay. Such scenes were unseen in other provinces, even in Hanoi! Huang Zuo Yan’s worries deepened. He asked Zun Shi Yunping, “Are there now only over three hundred loyal soldiers left in Shanxi?”
“Just over three hundred!”
Liu Yu’s engineering battalion and elite battalion were under the command of Shanxi’s army. Nominalmente, they were directly under Vietnamese government control. As for Shanxi’s original special forces, after Liu Yu’s reorganization, their strength dropped from five thousand to just over seven hundred, and now only about three hundred remained. Moreover, these three hundred were scattered across various parts of Shanxi. Among them, there were more officers than soldiers; their muskets had been taken away, leaving them mostly as unarmed fighters. They had also been turned into engineering units, working on construction projects under the supervision of the engineering battalion.
Zun Shi Yunping said anxiously, “If this continues, in another year, Shanxi may have not a single soldier from the South left.”
Huang Zuo Yan sighed, “At a time when the country is in turmoil, I’m utterly helpless… Sigh!” He didn’t realize that the engineering battalion was now a highly sought-after profession. In Shanxi, thousands wanted to join, including veterans from the Vietnamese army. Many junior officers preferred to start as ordinary soldiers in the engineering battalion and gradually rise through the ranks. After all, the Xi Liu Camp offered good benefits, and although the engineering battalion was essentially a labor unit, it didn’t treat its members like laborers like the Vietnameses or the Qing army did.
The pay was generous, the food was good, and the atmosphere was intense; once one joined the army, there was a sense of brotherhood. They were engineers, not some kind of servants. This is a very important detail. In the Qing Dynasty, in addition to 500 regular soldiers per battalion, there were often 180 laborers assigned. These laborers usually had no role in peacetime, but in wartime they were brought in to make up the numbers. This system continued until the Republic of China era, when it was replaced by the People’s Liberation Army’s comprehensive mobilization system. The PLA even created the new term “civil workers,” coined by Chen Yi. At that time, many civilians who supported the army did not want to be called “comrades servants,” which they considered shameful. Chen Yi specifically requested that they be addressed as “civil workers” — a term that was highly honorable at the time. During the counteroffensive against Vietnam, it was changed to “military workers.” This was a crucial detail that, to some extent, determined the outcome of battles between the two armies. A Kuomintang officer once remarked that the Communists referred to them as “eight major officers,” while they called them “slave soldiers.” One side treated people as human beings, while the other reduced them to animals — morale naturally followed. In the Xiliu Camp, this people-centered atmosphere persisted at all times. Even the most ordinary Vietnamese soldier was a proud engineer, filled with pride every day. It was a pride that came from within. Huang Zuoyan had no fondness for such arrogance. He saw that even the simplest soldiers dared to look him in the eye, the greatest man in Tonkin. They did not bow down but answered his questions politely. Yet Huang Zuoyan was used to a sense of superiority and was furious. This strengthened his resolve to eliminate the Xiliu Camp. However, he and Zunshi Yunping considered countless methods, all of which he rejected. The reason was simple: strength. The Xiliu Camp now controlled Shanxi, with 1,500 troops, plus more than 2,000 from the Black Flag Army, totaling over 4,000 soldiers. Such an army might be manageable for the Vietnamese, but considering the French factor, Huang Zuoyan did not have the courage to act. Every officer and soldier in the Xiliu Camp, regardless of age, status, or nationality — even a Vietnamese engineer — carried an innate sense of pride. They did not take the governor seriously. They only knew of Liu Yu, not Huang Zuoyan — a fact that Huang Zuoyan could not accept, yet he had no choice but to accept it. In terms of strength, the Xiliu Camp had 1,500 combatants, several hundred breech-loading guns, and control over an entire province. Huang Zuoyan could only come with bitterness and offer his congratulations: “Huang Zuoyan, governor of Tonkin’s military affairs, presents 1,800 taels of silver.” Liu Yu’s wedding was a mix of all sorts of people — opium traffickers, leaders of illegal North Vietnamese armed groups, and successful individuals like Huang Zuoyan. There were many historical enemies among them, but now everyone was overly polite, almost hypocritically so. Shen Sheng was also there. He had finally managed to secure a place at the banquet for the Heaven and Earth Society, but his status was probably no better than that of the opium traffickers.
Those opium dealers were surrounding Liu Qing, one hand counting the cigarettes for him while the other grabbed him: “Mr. Liu, the buyer, is a bit short of funds these days. How about borrowing some money? You can repay it immediately in a month.” The opium business was extremely profitable; the taxes they paid to the Vietnamese government had increased by 30% in just the past year. But more than that, what interested them even more was the loans from the Black Flag Bank. If the bank granted them a loan of 10,000, they dared to bring in opium worth 20,000. Yet they knew well that Shanxi, though a hub for opium distribution, had relatively low opium consumption. The monopoly on opium enforcement in Shanxi by Xiliuying was very effective—anyone wanting opium had to pay a high price; the price of opium in Shanxi was more than twice that in other regions, and no one was allowed to consume opium inside Xiliuying. Most of these opium dealers themselves also opposed opium use, but they monopolized the opium trade acrossthe entire Bắc Kỳ. According to the Black Flag Bank, they targeted Haiphong, a colony, as their market. Even the French troops, colonial officials, and the Oriental Bank of Commerce in Haiphong, who tried to resist this trend, were persuaded by financial incentives. Now, the French in Haiphong were considering importing opium directly to compete with these Chinese dealers, otherwise silver would keep flowing out of Haiphong. But these opium dealers became even more determined to cling to Liu Qing: “Mr. Liu, the buyer, you can put forward any demands you have.” Liu Qing was the first to experience this treatment; previously, only the senior managers of the Oriental Bank of Commerce enjoyed such adulation. Yet he simply smiled without answering. Meanwhile, Huang Zuo Yan had already seen the bride and groom emerge, and his mood worsened further. With nowhere to vent his anger, a servant, with a hint of arrogance, handed him a gift bag. Huang Zuo Yan opened it casually and instinctively licked his tongue. Liu Yu was really generous. What he held was a very simple certificate, but it read: “Black Flag Bank, 1,000 special shares.” 1,000 shares… that was 10,000 yuan. He had given away 1,800 taels of silver, yet Liu Yu had returned gifts worth 7,000 to 8,000 taels. No, it was more than that—this was just the original value. It was said that the shares of the Black Flag Bank had already risen in price, and there was even talk of an “upper-class share class,” where the original share value of 10 taels per share would increase to 20 or 30 taels per share. On the back of the certificate, it stated: “Special shares cannot be redeemed, and no dividends will be paid during the three-year cultivation period, but otherwise, all shareholder benefits apply.” There was also a note added: “To compensate for no dividends for three years, five extra shares will be given for every ten shares,” which left Huang Zuo Yan confused. After asking the servant for a long time, he finally understood that his 1,000 shares would automatically increase to 1,500 shares after three years. He became very satisfied—now he was also a major shareholder in the Black Flag Bank and could ask Liu Qing for any amount of loan he wanted. Not only Huang Zuo Yan but also other attendees at the wedding received such special shares, ranging from 10 shares to 2,000 or 3,000 shares, depending on the amount of gift money given. Each share was worth 10 Black Flag Bank notes, with no dividends for three years, after which every ten shares would become 15 shares.
At Liu Yu’s wedding, he received 15,000 taels in gifts from various parties. He immediately distributed nearly 8,000 special shares, a truly generous gesture that delighted all the guests. Meanwhile, Liu Qing continued, “After the New Year, the board of directors will need to be reelected. If anyone is interested in running for a seat on the board, please join us in this important endeavor.” The opium dealers had been waiting for this opportunity. As they knew, once they were on the board, they could give orders to Liu Qing, making it much easier to grant loans. Someone immediately asked, “Liu Da Mua Ban? I heard there are still some vacant shares in the Black Flag Bank. Is that true?” “Of course it’s true. We plan to issue a batch of warrants then to keep everyone happy.” These words made Huang Zuoyan’s ears perk up. In addition to these special shares, he had also received a private promise from Liu Qing that, since there would be no gifts during the New Year, he would give him 500 special shares later. 1,500 special shares, and in three years, that would be 2,200. If he added the warrants issued by Liu Qing, he would likely become a major shareholder with over 3,000 shares. 3,000 shares! Unbeknownst to him, according to the shareholder register, Liu Yu was currently the major shareholder with 30,000 ordinary shares. Even Liu Yongfu, who didn’t care much about such things, was a major shareholder with 1,000 shares. Liu Yongfu didn’t take any of this seriously. He had also received 200 shares as a gift, but he merely looked down on Liu Qing, thinking the whole scheme was too flimsy and wouldn’t last long. His interest lay more with Liu Yu. He looked at Liu Yu and then at the beautiful Jiang Ningxue behind him. This perfect couple had finally united for a lifetime of happiness. It was late at night. There were crystal pillows and red silk curtains, along with embroidered quilts in snowy white. Jiang Ningxue entered the bed but teased Liu Yu, “Liu Yu, you’re full of mischief. You can’t bully me like this…” “How am I bullying you?” Liu Yu laughed. Jiang Ningxue was as beautiful as a delicate flower. She said softly, “I gave you real money as gifts, yet you gave me just some pieces of paper representing special shares.” Liu Yu became proud. “These special shares are worth real money. Each share will yield at least 30 yuan in three years. I’m absolutely confident about that.” “It’ll still be worthless paper by then!” Jiang Ningxue gave Liu Yu a gentle kiss. “You’ve said that to me before, yet you still smile so mischievously…” The beauty was like a flower, and Liu Yu smiled wickedly as he hugged her tightly. At that moment, he was filled with happiness, wishing time could freeze. The two hugged tightly, their bright red tongues kissing each other. Liu Yu’s “spirit snake” plunged deep into Jiang Ningxue’s mouth, stirring up waves of passion as they exchanged sweet saliva. The couple kissed endlessly until Jiang Ningxue could hardly breathe. “You’re so mischievous! You’re only allowed to be naughty with me tonight…” With tender words, Liu Yu lost control. He quickly untied his clothes, stripping Jiang Ningxue bare, revealing her snow-white, flawless body. At first glance, she was a truly beautiful woman, flawless in every way. Jiang Ningxue, filled with affection, closed her eyes and let Liu Yu kiss every inch of her skin, emitting soft moans. It was like a dream. Her snow-like skin gradually turned slightly red. She longed for the moment when she would become a wife, yet she still felt a bit insecure.
“A Yu…” Jiang Ningxue’s voice was melodious and enchanting: “Yu Lang…”
“What is it?”
“Are my feet not pretty?”
Jiang Ningxue’s feet were crystal clear and adorable, extremely beautiful. Liu Yu couldn’t see anything unsightly about them: “They’re beautiful, truly beautiful…”
“My feet are natural-sized—could they be unattractive?”
In that era, Chinese women considered foot binding beautiful, admiring small, delicate feet. Yet Jiang Ningxue’s feet were normal, just like those of modern women.
“No! I like them just as they are…”
As he spoke, Liu Yu gently stroked her feet, arousing her desire: “So beautiful!”
Jiang Ningxue felt relieved. She softly said, “A Yu! Come here!”
She was already excited under Liu Yu’s stimulation. He gently explored with his fingers and found her already moist. He then guided himself into her slowly.
It was the most beautiful place in the world. The flower-lined path tightly surrounded them as Jiang Ningxue frowned, waiting for happiness to arrive.
Liu Yu thrust forward abruptly, breaking through the last barrier of purity and fully possessing her.
The two were tightly united, with not even a crack between them.
It was destined to be a wild night.
Tossed by turbulent waves…
…
Jiang Ningxue’s first night was beautiful, leaving her with a wonderful impression.
Her honeymoon was equally sweet, giving her a sense of ultimate beauty. Whenever she had time, she longed for Liu Yu.
Liu Yu only managed to have sex with Luo Yanqiu twice in between, but he had no complaints.
After the honeymoon, this happiness continued. Jiang Ningxue still cherished him.
But between two women, there were always the hardships of men. Yet Liu Yu gradually immersed himself in happiness.
The ordinary year 1880 passed, followed by another ordinary year, 1881.
It was also the last year before war.
Everything was progressing, with various factions awaiting loans from Liu Yu’s Black Flag Bank.
The bank’s business was booming. In the recent board election, the powerful men from northern Vietnam fought hard to secure two director positions, collecting votes everywhere. To everyone’s surprise, an opium dealer managed to gather nearly 8,000 voting rights.
This seemed impossible—8,000 rights accounted for almost 70% of all special shares, which were spread among different factions.
The upcoming subscription warrants also attracted great interest from all sides. People were extremely enthusiastic about these certificates, which were said to allow them to buy special shares at low prices.
Along with this, there were huge loan amounts and increasing paper currency issuance. Forty thousand yuan in paper money had been issued, with more to come. As for the loan amounts, Liu Qing’s pride was well-founded—he had lent one million yuan, 50% of which went to opium dealers. Now, not only in Vietnam but also in parts of Yunnan and Guangxi in China, Black Flag Bank notes could circulate.
In these two regions, the best way to purchase opium or gain access to opium-only shops is to obtain a few Black Flag Bank tickets, as opium dealers will immediately regard you as one of their own. All of this demonstrates the booming success of the Black Flag Bank. Currently, the bank has branches in seven provinces of Northern Vietnam, with over 300 employees. The reason for not opening more branches is purely due to a shortage of human resources. Liu Daimai has already set up two training classes to accelerate the training of apprentices, aiming to open two more branches in China. What makes Liu Yu even more pleased is that deposit amounts have also increased; the Black Flag Bank’s deposits have remained at a high level of 600,000 yuan. This is the decisive factor that allows the bank to lend out one million yuan. While many of these deposits are collateral-based, opium dealers from various parties have already made the Black Flag Bank their primary settlement tool. Even Liu Yongfu has changed his mind. Sitting across from Liu Yu, he raised his doubts: “If outsiders can hold two director positions, why can’t I hold one?”