Beiyang Dream

Chapter 54 Lord Guo, we're doing all this to build a garden for the Empress Dowager!

Chapter 54 Lord Guo, we're doing all this to build a garden for the Empress Dowager! (Second Update)

April 8, 1890, night, Berlin.

Chang Desheng, carrying a large portion of a Berlin-style braised pork knuckle wrapped in oil paper and a half-empty bottle of Riesling in his right hand, strolled to Guo Shigui's door. He was in an exceptionally good mood today. He had successfully negotiated the deal in Pontianak with Master Zhang and Luo Jingrou, and the Germans had also given their approval. All that remained was to keep that slippery fox, Old Guo, under control.

"Knock knock knock".

He knocked three times.

The door opened a crack, and Guo Shigui poked half his face out. He was wearing a silk nightgown, his hair was a mess, and he looked a little flustered.

Chang Desheng asked with a smile, "Brother Jichuan, are there any foreign women in the house?"

"What are you talking about!" Guo Shigui's face darkened. "Where are you talking about foreign women? Do you think I'm that kind of person?"

As he spoke, he glanced into the room and lowered his voice.

Chang Desheng held up the oil paper package and the wine bottle in his hand: "That's good. I packed half of the braised pork knuckle from the Kempinski for you, let's have a couple of drinks."

Guo Shigui finally breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door: "Come in, come in. Zhenbang, really, it's so late—"

"It's not late, it's not late," Chang Desheng squeezed through the door, "it's only nine o'clock."

The room was quite warm, brightly lit by the gas lamp. Guo Shigui's room was a size larger than Chang Desheng's. A tin stove sat in the corner, with a copper kettle bubbling away. The blankets on the bed were neatly folded, and the pillows weren't askew. Chang Desheng glanced at it and thought: "No foreign woman here after all. Looks like I've come up empty-handed."

A large desk stood by the window, with several account books spread out on it, along with a half-finished official document. Guo Shigui moved the items on the desk to the side, then took out two Chinese wine cups and two sets of bowls and chopsticks from the cabinet. Chang Desheng opened the oil paper package, and the aroma of stewed pork knuckle wafted out.

This pork knuckle is the Kempinski's "signature dish," stewed for six hours until the skin is tender and the meat is juicy and glistening with oil. Chang Desheng tore off half of it and put it in Guo Shigui's bowl, then tore off a piece for himself, and then picked up the wine bottle and filled both wine cups.

"Come on, let's have one!"

The two clinked their glasses and each took a small sip. Guo Shigui smacked his lips, picked up a piece of pork knuckle with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, chewed a few times, and narrowed his eyes: "Hmm, this German pork knuckle, the taste is alright. It's just not as good as our braised pork knuckle."

"They don't use soy sauce here." Chang Desheng also picked up a piece with his chopsticks. "Jichuan, you've been living the good life lately, haven't you?"

Guo Shigui chuckled, put down his chopsticks, and lightly tapped his wine cup against Chang Desheng's cup: "Isn't this all thanks to you, Zhenbang? The director of Schneider Electric's salary is one thousand marks a month. How many taels of silver would that be in our Qing Dynasty?"

"About two hundred taels," Chang Desheng casually calculated.

"Two hundred taels!" Guo Shigui clicked his tongue. "One month's worth is equivalent to half a year's worth. This life—heh."

Chang Desheng smiled and filled his cup again: "This is just the beginning. Once the shops in Southeast Asia open, your salary as a director will increase."

Guo Shigui paused, his hand holding the wine cup, and narrowed his eyes: "Zhenbang, you have something on your mind today, don't you?"

Chang Desheng calmly refilled his glass before slowly saying, "Jichuan, there's something I need to tell you first: the Germans want to build an ice-free port in the East."

Guo Shigui was chewing on a pork knuckle when he heard this, and he forgot to chew, staring blankly at Chang Desheng.

"An ice-free port?" He swallowed the meat. "What the hell? The Germans want to build a port in our Great Qing? Jiaozhou Bay? Lushun? Weihaiwei? This—how is this possible? Would the Grand Secretary agree to this?"

"Not the Qing Dynasty." Chang Desheng picked up his wine cup, took a sip, and said, "It's Southeast Asia."

"Nanyang?" Guo Shigui put down his chopsticks. "Where in Nanyang?"

"Pontianak".

Guo Shigui paused for a moment, racking his brains for geographical knowledge: "Borneo? That's Dutch territory—"

"It used to be Lanfang's territory," Chang Desheng interrupted him. "You know Lanfang, right?"

Guo Shigui picked up his wine cup, tilted his head back, poured himself another cup, and then said, "Zhenbang, stop beating around the bush. What exactly do you want?"

Chang Desheng put the wine bottle on the table and leaned forward: "Simple—help the Germans get the right to use Pontianak Port, help Lanfang's former subordinates regain control of Pontianak, and help the Beiyang government gain favors on both sides."

He recounted in detail how he helped the Germans with the port of Pontianak—and Moltke the Younger had expressed his satisfaction, agreeing to arrange warships to "protect the citizens" and tacitly allow arms to leave the country.

After hearing this, Guo Shigui stared with his mouth agape for a long time.

"Zhenbang," he lowered his voice, his expression as if afraid someone next door might overhear, "you...you fucking sold the Dutch ports to Germany? That...that can't be right, can it?"

"What's wrong with that?" Chang Desheng raised an eyebrow. "This is called using barbarians to control barbarians! That's what the Grand Secretary taught us."

Guo Shigui shook his head again: "But—but what does this have to do with our Beiyang government?"

"Of course it's related." Chang Desheng tapped the table with his finger. "This matter needs to be mediated by our Beiyang faction. The Zhang and Luo families of Nanyang can't be trusted with foreign devils—they've been cheated by foreigners more than once or twice. Back then, Lanfang wanted to become a vassal state of the Qing Dynasty so badly that he almost went blind! But the court just didn't dare to accept him."

"Isn't that just wishful thinking—" Guo Shigui muttered.

"Furthermore," Chang Desheng continued, "the Germans don't trust the Zhang and Luo families either. Without official backing, why would they give you arms? So, this deal has to be done under the guise of the Beiyang government, signing contracts in the name of Beiyang to ship the arms out of Germany. Once the goods arrive in Southeast Asia, who will receive them? The Luo family. Who will use them? The Luo family. Who will bear the responsibility? Still the Beiyang government."

Guo Shigui grew increasingly uneasy as he listened, and quickly interrupted him: "Wait, wait—the Grand Secretary would never agree to something like this! Stop making a fuss!"

Chang Desheng waved his hand, picked up his wine cup, took a sip, and said unhurriedly, "Jichuan, let me finish. The Grand Secretary cannot agree. If he publicly gives his approval, the Dutch Minister will go to the Zongli Yamen to negotiate, and that will cause a lot of trouble. But he won't object either."

"Why don't you object?"

"Think about it," Chang Desheng put down his wine cup and stared at Guo Shigui, "who did the Grand Secretary borrow the 720,000 taels of silver from to buy the birthday warship?"

Guo Shigui was taken aback.

"Who," Chang Desheng said, enunciating each word clearly, then poked Guo Shigui's chest twice with his index finger, "who acted as a go-between? Who built the bridge? Who came up with the idea? Who helped with the arrangements?"

Guo Shigui's lips twitched: "It's—it's me."

"That's right!" Chang Desheng slammed his hand on the table, making the wine cup jump. "Lord Guo, if you cooperate with me this time, both Germany and Southeast Asia will owe you a huge favor. Once I return to China, all the work of connecting Germany, Southeast Asia, and Beiyang will be yours."

He counted on his fingers for Guo Shigui: "One hand, German arms. Another hand, silver from Southeast Asia. And yet another hand, a promising official career in Beiyang. Combine these three—Brother Jichuan, I think the ministerial position will be yours sooner or later!"

Guo Shigui's eyes lit up when he heard the word "Minister".

Chang Desheng, seizing this glimmer of hope, immediately continued, lowering his voice even further: "But if you don't cooperate with the loan of 720,000 taels of silver, we've only received 100,000 so far, leaving a shortfall of 620,000. What if those in Southeast Asia become unhappy and refuse to lend the rest—the Empress Dowager's Summer Palace will be short of this sum. If the garden can't be built, and the Empress Dowager is displeased, guess who will ultimately bear the blame?"

Guo Shigui's hand, holding the wine cup, froze. The half-filled cup of Riesling wine swayed under the light, almost spilling. He slowly put down the cup, looked at Chang Desheng, and his expression was as if he had swallowed a bitter pill.

It's so tough!

He finally understood.

He was forced into this situation by Chang Desheng—no, forced into Changshan! If he didn't help, a link in the chain of the Empress Dowager's garden construction would break, and on that link, the three characters "Guo Shiguichuan" would be engraved.

If you help him, he'll climb higher and higher on "Changshan," and it will be difficult for him to go down later.

"Zhenbang—" Guo Shigui's voice was a little weak, "Isn't what you're doing a bit too harsh?"

Chang Desheng didn't speak, but picked up his wine cup and took a sip. He thought to himself: "Brother Jichuan, I'm sorry. This move was a bit underhanded, but without this method, how could I possibly control someone as cunning as you?"

Guo Shigui stared at the braised pork knuckle on the table for a long time, then suddenly picked up his wine cup, downed half of it in one gulp, and slammed the cup down on the table.

"Zhenbang," he sighed, "the thing I regret most in my life is agreeing to become a director for you."

"Brother Jichuan, what you're saying is so true—" Chang Desheng filled his cup, "When things are done in the future, you'll be most grateful to this person."

Guo Shigui gritted his teeth: "Speak, what arrangements do you need for this?"

Upon hearing this, Chang Desheng knew the time was right. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, saying, "Next Sunday, Lord Hong will be dragged by Madam Hong to the Kempinski Hotel for a big meal. After that, they'll have to go to the Lorenz Jewelry Store to buy jewelry—all paid for by Master Zhang."

Guo Shigui paused for a moment: "Madam Hong is willing to do this favor?"

"As for Madam Hong," Chang Desheng picked up his wine cup and twirled it in his hand, "I have my own way of dealing with her. She's not the kind of person who's unreasonable."

Guo Shigui nodded and didn't ask any further questions. He knew that Chang Desheng and Madam Hong had a special relationship—for the past six months, Chang Desheng had been sending Madam Hong jewelry and perfume during holidays, and it was Madam Hong who had helped smooth things over with Lord Hong regarding the "Dear Empress Dowager" incident. He had accumulated enough favors, and now it was time to use them.

"The location—" Chang Desheng dipped his chopsticks in wine and drew a circle on the table, "It's at the Qing Dynasty Legation, in your signing room. I'll arrange things with Zhang Zhensheng, and I'll contact Mao Qi. You just need to show up when the time comes."

Guo Shigui picked up the wine cup, took another swig, and then put the cup on the table with a loud "thud".

"Fine," he said, his tone as if he were being led to the execution ground, "I'm on your pirate ship now, so I admit it."

"How is this like getting on a pirate ship? We're all doing this to build a garden for the Empress Dowager!" Chang Desheng raised his wine cup. "Come on, Brother Jichuan, let's have a drink to wish our business a resounding success."

The two wine cups clinked together with a sound.

Chang Desheng has been gone for a while.

Guo Shigui was the only one left in the room, amidst the mess on the table and the flickering flame of the oil lamp. He stared at that light, his face no longer showing any trace of alcohol.

He slowly moved to the desk, spread out a sheet of Xuan paper, and dipped his brush in ink. The brush tip hovered on the paper, not falling for a long time.

Finally, he put pen to paper, writing very slowly, as if he were carefully considering each word: "To Lord Sheng, the Customs Commissioner of Tianjin, for Your Excellency Li: My personal attendant, Desheng, has recently been making many connections, and has been very close to German military officers and wealthy merchants from Southeast Asia, such as Zhang and Luo, discussing many things. It seems he has ulterior motives, which may be detrimental to the Dutch-controlled Southeast Asia. I have observed his behavior and dare not conceal anything. I humbly request Your Excellency's judgment. Respectfully submitted by Shigui."

After finishing writing, he put down his pen and stared blankly at the kerosene lamp, the ink on the paper slowly drying.

After a long pause, he finally murmured, his voice extremely low: "Chang Desheng, Chang Desheng, you're just too much of a fuss-maker—but I have to—take care of myself, right?"

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