China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

“In any case,” said Gao, “Japan’s big game isn’t the islands, even Taiwan.”

“It isn’t?” Shi-Rong frowned. “Then what is?”

Gao hesitated a moment and glanced at the other two. Ru-Hai nodded. “This is,” said Gao. And the Manchu rapped his pointer on the great peninsula of Korea.

“Japan hasn’t gone near the peninsula,” said Shi-Rong.

“They’re going to,” said his son.

“How do you know?”

“We know.” Ru-Hai looked seriously at his father. “Any day. They could be there at this very moment, as we speak.”

“I find that hard to believe,” said Shi-Rong. He paused. “It’s our most important vassal kingdom.”

“More than that,” said Gao. “For centuries the great peninsula has been like a protective arm, shielding our northern coast, including access to Beijing from the Sea of Japan. The tribute payments and the loyalty of their people have never been in question.”

“The Japanese would like to change that,” said Ru-Hai.

“You think they’ll invade?”

“No, not yet. They’re not ready. But they’ll infiltrate. They’ll tempt them with foreign trade, new ideas. They’ll try to separate them from us.”

“And what are we supposed to do?”

“Get back in the game,” said Gao. “We have to do what the Japanese are doing. Engage fully with the Western barbarians. Learn everything possible about not only their arms but also their ships, their factories—everything that makes them strong and leaves us weak if we do not have them.”

“Just so long as we don’t have their railways,” said Shi-Rong. “They are monstrous. Life would not be worth living with such foul machines.” He said it as though in jest, but he really meant it, and Ru-Hai and his friends knew he did. The young men looked at each other in silence, then politely ignored his remark.

“Father,” said Ru-Hai very seriously, “we are all proud to be Chinese. But being Chinese alone isn’t enough anymore. Put another way, if we want things to stay the same, we must change. We’ve sent an envoy to the British in London to learn all he can. And a few students have already gone to America to attend the universities there. We used to be ahead, but now we’re deficient in mathematics and engineering and the science of money, all of which they can learn there. And our leaders must understand these things, too.”

“I’m well aware of all these expeditions,” Shi-Rong replied. “But be careful. We still need mandarins learned in morals and philosophy. You cannot have an empire run by money-grubbers and mechanics.” He paused. “But there is one thing that concerns me.”

“What’s that?” asked Ru-Hai.

“Even if I don’t like all of it, I admire you for trying to save the Celestial Empire in this way. Your sincerity and your courage are clear. But it’s also clear that the court and your own superiors are not yet persuaded and—forgive me if I say it—you are very young, too junior to take such a burden upon yourselves.”

“We know,” said Ru-Hai. “That’s why we’re trying to convert our elders—people like you, Father. If you and others like you speak up for us, then the court will take more notice. The matter is urgent: That’s what the court needs to understand.”

“I can talk to Peng about it,” said Shi-Rong, “and some others I know—prefects, a few governors, people with influence.”

“Thank you, Father,” said Ru-Hai. “I suppose you don’t know anyone who has the ear of the Empress Cixi?”

“Not really.” Shi-Rong was sorry to disappoint his son. He’d like to have cut a more important figure in front of his friends. Then a thought occurred to him. “The only fellow I know who claims to have her ear”—he smiled with amusement at the idea—“is a eunuch who does her nails. I don’t suppose that would be much use to you.”

His son’s mouth fell open. “You know the eunuch who does her nails?” he cried in amazement.

“That’s wonderful,” cried Gao in chorus.

“How do you know him?” Ru-Hai asked eagerly.

“Mr. Peng knows him, really. This eunuch is also a merchant, and I’m transacting a small piece of business with him.” He didn’t say what. “I daresay I’ll see him quite soon.”

“Please speak to him, Father. That would be magnificent.”

“If there’s any further information we can provide for you, sir, please let us know,” said Gao.

Even the Manchu nodded fervently.

And Shi-Rong realized with sorrow that in the eyes of his son and his son’s colleagues, he, a prefect of the fourth rank, was a very insignificant person compared with the eunuch who cut and polished the dowager empress’s nails.

—

He ate at his lodgings with his son that night. It was a handsome hostel, often used by mandarins like himself who were visiting the capital. The servants were attentive, the meal excellent, and by the end of it, Shi-Rong was in quite a good humor. The meeting in the Tsungli Yamen might have damaged his amour propre a little, but not too much. He hadn’t cut such a bad figure. It had certainly been interesting. And now here he was, at the end of a good meal, looking with affection at his boy.

“You know,” he remarked, “it might be time for you to get married. What do you think?”

“I’d like to be further along in my career first, Father.”

“I understand that,” said Shi-Rong. “But the path you’re following in the Tsungli Yamen is quite uncertain.” He saw his son frown. “Don’t misunderstand me. I admire you. And it could lead to great things. But it’s risky.” He paused. “Your grandfather left the estate in pretty good shape. And I’ve been able to save money myself. So as far as marriage is concerned, whatever happens at the bureau, you’re quite a good catch. We can probably find you a rich wife as well, with a bit of luck.”

Ru-Hai nodded slowly. He seemed to be considering. “Can I ask you something, Father?” he said at last.

“Of course, my boy.”

“Why are you meeting with the eunuch? The one who does Cixi’s nails?”

Shi-Rong hesitated for a second. He