After settling in, Pei Shaohuai began going out early and returning late each day, traveling throughout Shuang’an Prefecture to observe local conditions and customs. On one hand, he needed to familiarize himself with the local terrain and geography to select a fine natural harbor and bay; on the other, the local customs and folk ways of the Min region differed greatly from those of the Central Plains, and only through seeing with one’s own eyes and experiencing firsthand could one come to a deep understanding.
The Min region is dominated by mountains and hills, and has long been described as “eight parts mountain, one part water, one part field.” On the way south, Pei Shaohuai had already experienced this firsthand — lifting the carriage curtain and looking out, as far as the eye could see on both sides of the official road, stretching mountain slopes rolled on and on.
Eighty percent mountains, ten percent water — only the remaining ten percent was farmland. A classic case of many people and too little land, unsuitable for smallholder farming.
Shuang’an Prefecture was even more so. Not only were there few fields, but they were also prone to saltwater intrusion from the sea, making yields very low. With such terrain, the only option was to “rely on the sea to feed from the sea.”
With the court’s sea ban in place, and yet the people of the town appearing to live tolerably well, Pei Shaohuai’s mind was already forming a few conjectures.
That day, Assistant Governor Qi knocked on Pei Shaohuai’s door.
“Please come in, Magistrate Qi.”
“Governor.”
Assistant Governor Qi’s given name was Qi Yi. He was a native of Chaozhou Prefecture, and had come up through the provincial examination. He had entered government service at age thirty as an education instructor in Tong’an County, and after several promotions had finally become the county magistrate of Tong’an. That is to say, his surname “Qi” and the dominant surname “Qi” in Tong’an County were not the same “Qi.”
When Tong’an and Nan’an Counties were merged into a prefecture, Qi Yi was changed from county magistrate to assistant governor, elevated from the seventh rank to the sixth rank. Though he had risen a grade, he had gone from being a chief official to a deputy, and to make matters worse, Pei Shaohuai was a man in his twenties. Assistant Governor Qi harbored a smoldering resentment in his heart.
He simply chose not to show it.
After the customary pleasantries, Assistant Governor Qi said: “There are some minor affairs in my household that must be attended to tomorrow, so I fear I cannot be present at the prefectural yamen. I have come specially to inform the Governor.”
He was asking for leave.
Pei Shaohuai naturally agreed without hesitation.
As Assistant Governor Qi was departing, Pei Shaohuai noticed Bao Bantou, standing below the hall, inadvertently let slip a fleeting smirk, his eyes glancing sideways at Assistant Governor Qi’s retreating figure with a hint of contempt.
Pei Shaohuai pretended not to see it, continued with his work, and after a while set down his brush and said casually: “I wonder what has arisen in Magistrate Qi’s household — perhaps this official should go and call on him to express some concern.” He was asking for Bao Bantou’s opinion.
Bao Bantou stepped forward two paces. Though he harbored no fondness for this man surnamed Qi, he did not dare rashly stir up trouble between his superiors, so he replied with a smile: “This subordinate is only guessing — tomorrow is the ancestral hall sacrifice at Qi Family Hall, and Magistrate Qi has been one of the ten who offer the first incense every year without fail. This year is likely no exception… This subordinate thinks the Governor need not trouble himself over this.”
Assistant Governor Qi was asking for leave to attend the ancestral hall sacrifice at Qi Family Hall.
“So that is the matter — as long as there is no trouble in his household, all is well.” Pei Shaohuai wore an expression of having understood, then asked with surprise: “But is Magistrate Qi not the ‘Qi’ from Chaozhou Prefecture? How is it that he…” He deliberately inquired how Qi Yi had become entangled with Qi Family Hall.
“The Governor may not be aware — years ago, Magistrate Qi fell gravely ill with typhoid fever in winter, and it was the Qi clan chief who saved his life with an ancient remedy. From then on, Magistrate Qi and the Qi clan chief took each other as sworn father and son.” Bao Bantou answered honestly.
He merely stated the facts, adding nothing embellished, and spoke no words of disparagement.
Pei Shaohuai turned this over in his mind: Qi Yi, a man with the same surname from another prefecture, had become one of the ten to offer first incense at Qi Family Hall’s sacrifice — this revealed that his ties with Qi Family Hall had grown so intimate as to be intertwined. It also showed that Qi Family Hall’s influence was not particularly great. Just as Bao Bantou had said — they merely enjoyed some prominence within Tong’an Town.
No wonder the townspeople of Tong’an only knew that Pei Shaohuai had taken office as governor, without knowing he had come to open the seas.
The following day, Pei Shaohuai put on civilian clothes rather than official robes, rode in a carriage to the outside of Qi Family Hall, and observed the grand ancestral sacrifice from a distance.
By the time Pei Shaohuai arrived, the Qi clansmen had already gone up the mountain to pay respects at the ancestral graves. Each branch of the clan carried large yellow banners, and as the long procession returned to the accompaniment of gongs, drums, and firecrackers, it made for an imposing sight.
The sacrifice was very grand. First, all manner of offerings were carried in a steady stream into the ancestral hall; the Eight Immortals tables bearing the sacrificial offerings stretched from inside the hall all the way out to the street.
Incense smoke curled and rose, and everywhere was hazy with mist. Human voices and the sounds of gongs and drums mingled together in great din.
When the appointed hour arrived, the clamor gradually fell silent. The clan chief read the sacrificial text, pausing between each character, his voice resounding and clear.
Afterward, ten persons of great virtue and high standing offered incense together. Assistant Governor Qi Yi was indeed among them.
Someone intoned: “Clouds and mist part over the eastern sea; the Qi clan’s sons and daughters stand in reverent waiting. Forebears and fathers sit enthroned in their honored halls; may every household gate be forever free from calamity. Bow —”
Then intoned again: “Gongs and drums ring out before the hall; the Qi clan’s sons and daughters attend to their boats. Forebears and fathers sit enthroned in their honored halls; may every scholar among the family serve as a high minister. Bow again —”
After nine verses and nine bows, it was then the turn of the branch clan members to offer incense — the main branches first, the smaller branches after, and scattered households last.
Today’s sacrifice appeared to be only a “minor rite,” so the ceremony did not last long and no feast was set out.
As the sacrifice drew to a close, the distribution of sacrificial food and the sharing of blessings began — the distribution of sacrificial food meant dividing among the worshipping clan members the foodstuffs from the offerings, generally pork portions and mutton portions. The sharing of blessings meant distributing the sacrificial wine downward.
Pei Shaohuai could not understand the Min dialect, nor did he know these sacrificial customs. Watching from the outside from a distance, he could only make out the general liveliness.
He saw that the many clan members each received only a small cut of pork and a cup of thin wine, yet they treated these as precious — drinking the wine on the spot and wrapping the pork in dry lotus leaves to bring home, not a single person showing the least sign of thinking it too little.
He also saw several boys dressed in rags, each hoisting a strip of meat as tall as themselves, running joyfully toward home. And there were the very elderly, who also received no small amount of sacrificial offerings.
Pei Shaohuai thought to himself: if speaking of trust and reverence, the people of this place would likely be more willing to look to the clan chief rather than to him, this newly arrived governor. Pei Shaohuai had thought he had prepared himself mentally, but truly being in the Min region and witnessing the local customs and folk ways firsthand, he now understood how difficult it would be to fit in here.
Moreover, this state of people living together in communal groups — which the people had arrived at spontaneously — was a way of surviving that they had worked out for themselves, something they revered wholeheartedly from the depths of their hearts.
Qi Family Hall’s influence was not great, and Pei Shaohuai could “overpower it by force.” But when encountering a powerful major clan where “overpowering by force” was not an option, what was to be done then? Major clans had high officials to vouch for them at court above, clan members’ support below, merchant ships conducting trade on the outside, and even some degree of “cooperation” with pirates at sea. Simply meeting force with force was not workable.
“Let us go, back to the yamen,” Pei Shaohuai said to Chang Fan.
“Yes, sir.”
By the time Pei Shaohuai returned to the yamen, it was midday. He had just stepped down from the carriage when he happened to see Bao Bantou coming out of the yamen in a hurry, apparently heading home.
“My respects to the Governor.”
“You seem to be in quite a hurry, Bao Bantou — is there some urgency at home?”
Bao Bantou was not good at improvising lies, and his expression became sheepish. He replied: “This subordinate has a cousin who does business in other parts and rarely comes back. He is hosting a flowing-water banquet for the villagers, and this subordinate is heading back for that.”
“How delightful.” Pei Shaohuai then asked: “What sort of business does he do outside?”
Bao Bantou thought for a few moments before answering: “In response to the Governor’s question, it seems he does something in the tea trade.”
“Go on then — have a few fewer cups, as you’re still on duty tonight.” Pei Shaohuai reminded him.
“This subordinate understands.”
Chang Fan was nearby and had heard this exchange. After Bao Bantou left, Chang Fan remarked: “The people here are really generous — go and do some business outside, come home and treat the whole village to a flowing-water banquet.”
“If he were doing legitimate tea business out in other parts, the whole neighborhood for ten li around would surely already know. Why would Bao Bantou need to hesitate before answering?” Pei Shaohuai offered a hint.
Chang Fan was taken aback and asked: “His cousin isn’t really a merchant?”
“He is most likely someone who sits at sea and collects ‘road tolls.'”
Being subjects of Da Qing, Pei Shaohuai had not the heart to say the words “in league with pirates” outright. The factors involved were too many, and far too complex.
“If that’s the case, then isn’t Bao Bantou…” Chang Fan, who was usually so sharp-tongued, was now so astonished he was stumbling over his words.
Pei Shaohuai appeared relatively unperturbed and said: “Growing up together in the same village from childhood, then growing up and finding themselves unable to feed a family on the household’s scant land, each had to go out and make a living. Gradually each put on a different kind of clothing… As long as they don’t run into each other out there, as long as no blades or swords cross between them, once they’re back in the village they’re still the playmates who grew up together.”
He smiled quietly and added: “In this Tong’an Town, it is not just one family or one village with this sort of situation.”
A family with three sons: the eldest stays home to farm; the second is recruited into the army; and the youngest bundles up a few garments and heads out to sea. If the youngest never comes back, it’s as if he was never born. If he returns after a few years, they say he went out to do business and earn a living.
Such cases were far from rare.
Outwardly calm, Pei Shaohuai harbored a complex tangle of feelings within. Under such circumstances, to think of completely eradicating the pirates and smoothly opening the seas — how formidable a task that would be.
He thought for a moment and said to Chang Fan: “Go back and let Madam know I won’t be coming home for dinner tonight — tell her not to wait for me… I need to make a trip to Jiahe Island.”
Half a month had passed since separating from Commander Yan — he did not know whether the troops of Jiahe Guard had been assembled yet.
It was also time to go and see Yan Chengzhao.
“Yes, sir.”
……
That afternoon, Pei Shaohuai boarded a boat for Jiahe Island.
This was the largest island at the mouth of the Jiulong River, with beautiful scenery. The island had originally housed a Left Thousand-Household Station and therefore had a walled settlement within, home to a thousand households.
The court had transformed this into a “Guard,” which administered five thousand households. Besides the original thousand households on the island and the two thousand troops Yan Chengzhao had brought from the capital, at least two thousand more households were still needed before a genuine “Jiahe Guard” could be established.
Yan Chengzhao’s assignment was no simple matter.
Upon learning that Pei Shaohuai had come to visit, Yan Chengzhao set aside what he was doing and hurried over to meet him. But he did not have someone bring tea — he had wine brought directly instead.
A look of dejection showed on his face.
It seemed Commander Yan had also run into difficulties.
At the wine table, Yan Chengzhao’s very first words were: “Jiahe Guard will likely require no short amount of time to assemble.”
“I know.” Pei Shaohuai drained his cup. This was just as he had expected. He went on: “A thousand-household station — of the troops on the roster, half are the elderly, the infirm, and the sick. Of the remaining half, some seventy to eighty percent spend their days doing nothing but farming and producing grain. Those who have genuinely trained number only one or two hundred. Those who have experienced cannon fire, handled blades and spears, and have the skill to kill enemies are even fewer in number.”
Pei Shaohuai said with resignation: “With only these one or two hundred troops, how could they possibly hold up a court-established Jiahe Guard?”
“Did you foresee all this?” Yan Chengzhao asked.
“It was not that I foresaw it,” Pei Shaohuai answered. “It is simply that this state of affairs is the common condition facing military officers throughout the realm.”
The military garrison system had been established long ago. On the surface it appeared that both the nine frontier passes on land and the guard stations along the sea borders were all garrisoned, but in truth the troops grew weaker year by year. The Min region was far from the capital, and a thousand-household station garrisoning a remote little island — unable to repel a strong enemy when it came, unable to pursue a weak one when it fled — after such a long time, how could one place any hope in it having outstanding combat strength?
Pei Shaohuai asked: “What is truly troubling Commander Yan must not simply be the question of manpower, correct?” After all, Yan Chengzhao had been forewarned and had brought two thousand elite troops from the capital — no small fighting force.
“That is correct.”