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

thinks of the battery,” said Lin with a smile. “Is it good enough for him?”

So Shi-Rong asked. And Nio took no chances. “It is truly wonderful, Lord,” he said.

After Lin got into his litter, he turned to Shi-Rong. “How is your honorable father? When do you next write to him?”

“I was going to write tonight, Excellency.”

“Come to me when you have finished your letter. I shall add a word myself.”

—

It was quite late that night when Shi-Rong approached the library where the great man worked. But he could see from the light under the door that his master was still there.

“You told me to report when I had finished the letter to my father, Excellency.”

“Ah, yes. May I see?”

Shi-Rong placed it on the table. It was a good letter. Apart from the usual inquiries after his father’s and his aunt’s health, he gave a brief report of his recent duties and a vivid account of the events that day. While he used no words of flattery, it was clear that he held his master Lin in the highest regard, and this was no more than the truth.

Lin read it, gave a grunt of approval, and laid the letter on the table again. He motioned Shi-Rong to sit down. “I am considering a private message to Elliot,” the commissioner announced. “Before I send it, tell me what you think.” After Shi-Rong had bowed, Lin continued. “The other day, quite accidentally, a British sailor was drowned, and his body has washed up.”

“So I heard, Excellency.”

“It would perhaps be convenient if this corpse was the very man we had demanded for the murder of our unfortunate villager. The case could then be closed without loss of face to ourselves or the British. What do you think?”

“Your Excellency can be devious,” Shi-Rong remarked with a smile.

“The emperor does not require us to be stupid.”

“Elliot would be a fool not to accept your offer,” Shi-Rong replied. “But may I ask a question?”

Lin gave him a brief nod.

“Our power is overwhelming, and the barbarians must know it. Now you generously offer them a further concession. Yet I cannot help wondering: Are you never tempted just to crush the British barbarians once and for all?”

“Personally?” Lin smiled. “Of course. But you have asked the wrong question. It is the wishes of the emperor that matter, not mine. And what did the emperor tell me to do?”

“To stop the opium smuggling.”

“Correct. Did he tell me to go to war with the barbarians?”

“Not so far, Excellency.”

“There is a large tea trade with the barbarians. Our farmers grow it. Our Hong merchants sell it. Did the emperor tell me to destroy the tea trade?”

“No, Excellency.”

“So the matter is very simple. The British may trade in tea, but they must not smuggle opium, concerning which they must sign our bond promising to submit to our justice. Elliot says their laws forbid them to sign. Then their laws should be changed. I hope that his queen has read my letter by now, and that if she is just, she will forbid the opium trade and tell the British merchants to submit at once. Then the problem is ended and my job is done.” He paused. “In the meantime, is the tea trade continuing?”

“Yes, Excellency. The American ships are carrying the tea at present.”

“Just so. The Americans and other barbarians who submit to our laws can enter the river and purchase the tea. Meanwhile, the British merchants are not allowed in. The tea gets to Britain, of course, but the British merchants are unable to carry it. Americans and others are commandeering every available vessel, shipping the tea, and taking the profit, leaving the British merchants out in the cold. For this, they have no one to blame but themselves.”

“Is it true, Excellency, that the Americans have been allowed to sign a less stringent bond that doesn’t oblige them to submit to our justice?”

“Their bond is in their own language, so I couldn’t say.” The cunning bureaucrat allowed himself a faint smile. “Apart from the villainous Delano, the Americans hardly smuggle opium, so it doesn’t really matter what they sign.”

“Do you think the British are so greedy, Excellency, that for this cause they would attack us?”

“Who knows?” Lin answered, this time with genuine perplexity. “I have yet to understand their morality.”

He picked up Shi-Rong’s letter again. Taking a brush and dipping it in the ink, he selected a convenient space on the paper, quickly wrote a few characters, and returned the letter to Shi-Rong, who read what he had written.

Fortunate the master, whose secretary is trusted;

Happy the father, whose son is praised.

A perfect Chinese couplet: each sentence a mirror of the other, each word in perfect grammatical balance with its fellows. As for the elegant calligraphy, every brushstroke showed the purity of soul and the sense of justice of the writer. As Shi-Rong gazed at the message and thought of the joy it would bring his father, tears came into his eyes.

He bowed from the waist, both to show his respect and to hide the tears.

◦

“Damn Hong Kong!” said Tully as he stood with John Trader on the deck of the ship that for weeks had been their home. He said it every morning. With the steep mountain of the Peak towering just behind it, Hong Kong Harbour presented a magnificent panorama—but not one that gave any pleasure to Tully Odstock.

“At least we can get food from the mainland,” said Trader. “And they didn’t really poison the water.”

“I wish to God they had,” Tully muttered. Eyes bulging, he glared across the waters where the British ships had already been anchored for weeks. “I’d sooner be dead than go on like this.”

Trader couldn’t blame him. Everybody was bored. “Well, we’re safe at least,” he said soothingly.

“Marooned, more like. Chained to that cursed rock.” Odstock nodded towards the Peak. “Look!” He shot his short arms out furiously towards the anchorage. “There’s seventy British ships at anchor. And not a damned one I can