Pei Shaohuai pronounced all the detainees not guilty and withdrew from the session. Yet the faces of the common people outside the hall showed no sign of relief. The Prefect had declined to accept this “meritorious deed” — so how were the merchant vessels circling offshore at Wuyu Island supposed to return to Tong’an City?
That afternoon, every family came to pay the bill for wine and food and took their elders out of custody. The sole exception was the Twenty-Seventh Elder, who stubbornly “refused to leave” the yamen’s side chamber and insisted on seeing the Prefect again.
The constables had no choice but to report the situation to Pei Shaohuai.
Upon hearing of it, Pei Shaohuai went to see the Twenty-Seventh Elder again and asked with a smile: “Does the elder find the wine and food here superior to what is served at home, and wish to stay on for a few more meals?”
He added: “Staying a few more days is no great matter — only the meal charges and lodging fees must be tallied accordingly… This prefectural yamen of mine is quite impoverished, I’m afraid.”
The Twenty-Seventh Elder came straight to the point: “Did the Prefect not say yesterday that after the hearing, the Qi Clan Hall’s vessels would be permitted to return from Wuyu Island to Tong’an City?”
He was afraid Pei Shaohuai might go back on his word.
“Why such urgency, elder?”
“Other matters can wait. The matter of having enough to eat cannot be delayed.”
So it was that Pei Shaohuai, with the Twenty-Seventh Elder looking on, summoned Bao Bantou and first declared: “As summer draws near, the Jiulong River swells with water, the current runs swift, and this is also the season when the common people of Shuang’an Prefecture put out to fish in the river. Fishing boats frequently drift with the current out past the river mouth and are mistaken for private vessels engaged in trade. This keeps happening over and over and is a genuine drain on the time and energy of the prefectural yamen.”
He then continued in an easy, unhurried tone: “This official is of the view that beyond the mouth of the Jiulong River, the islands are numerous and abound in fish and shrimp. There is truly no need to use the inlet as the boundary and restrict the common people from fishing — and it would also spare the men of our yamen the exhausting burden of patrolling by boat each day. Let it be thus: from today, outside Shuang’an Bay — the waters from the Jiulong River mouth to the vicinity of Wuyu Island — shall all be designated as fishing grounds for the common people. Ordinary surveillance is sufficient; daily patrols to intercept are no longer necessary.”
The meaning was: as long as the merchant ships could make it safely into Shuang’an Bay, take down their masts, and pose as fishing vessels, they need no longer fear interception by the authorities.
Beyond Shuang’an Bay, Pei Shaohuai could not yet exercise authority. But within Shuang’an Bay, his word was law.
Pei Shaohuai issued the order: “Convey this official’s words to Deputy Administrator Xu and have him draw up the official document to be proclaimed publicly.”
“Your subordinate receives the order.” Bao Bantou replied, his delight plain to see, and departed at a brisk pace.
Within Shuang’an Prefecture, it was not only the Qi Clan Hall’s merchant ships that had been sheltering at Wuyu Island without returning.
“The Prefect is indeed a man of his word,” said the Twenty-Seventh Elder. He pledged: “With the Prefect’s declaration standing, the men and women of the Qi clan will have clothes to wear and food to eat. They will look to the Prefect as their leader and will never stir up trouble or cause disorder for the yamen.”
“Does the elder wish to leave now, or to stay for the evening meal first?” Pei Shaohuai asked.
Though the Twenty-Seventh Elder had reached the age of eighty and dragged a lame right leg, his frame was still sturdy and his movements brisk. The small old man immediately adjusted his robe, rose, and prepared to walk out, saying: “This old man is going home right now.”
He tightened the sash at his waist and then muttered: “The wine and food here at the Prefect’s yamen — it is good, I’ll grant that — only it is… rather expensive…” Common people living their daily lives tried to save wherever they could.
With those words, he limped his way out of the yamen.
Pei Shaohuai watched the Twenty-Seventh Elder’s retreating figure and instructed the runner: “Send a carriage to see him home.”
“Yes.”
A few moments later, the runner’s hesitant voice was heard again: “My lord… should the carriage be charged for?”
Pei Shaohuai was briefly taken aback. Had his reputation for honest and selfless governance spread so quickly? Somewhat irritating.
“No charge.”
——
Evening came, and it was time to close the yamen. Aside from those on duty, the yamen’s officials and staff made their way out one by one.
Pei Shaohuai gave his writing desk a brief tidy, changed out of his official robes, and prepared to head home.
As he passed by Qi Tongzhi’s office chamber, he saw Qi Tongzhi pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression agitated. The man who ordinarily left work early and returned home promptly was today the last to depart.
The rumor of “Grand Secretary’s prized disciple” was one Pei Shaohuai had deliberately set afloat. But in the end, it was Qi Tongzhi who had made his own choices.
Pei Shaohuai asked in passing: “Has Vice Administrator Qi not gone home yet?”
Qi Tongzhi stiffened at the sound of his voice. A long moment passed before he turned to face Pei Shaohuai. The conflicting feelings on his face were not entirely concealed — puzzlement, vexation, resentment — but not, notably, remorse.
By this point, Qi Tongzhi had already worked out that Pei Shaohuai was a man of no ordinary standing. Without that, how would Pei Shaohuai have dared pronounce those accused of unauthorized seafaring not guilty in open court, and how would he have dared take a single stroke of the brush and designate the whole of Shuang’an Bay a “fishing zone”?
He had only his own habit of thinking in fixed patterns to blame — the persistent assumption that being transferred from the capital to Fujian could only mean demotion.
Qi Tongzhi hesitated and wavered, and in the end managed only to produce a strained smile: “In reply to my lord — there are a few official matters still unfinished. I shall leave a little later.”
Pei Shaohuai gave a slight bow in farewell and took his leave.
The evening light was thick that day, the sunset blazing with color. Outside the yamen it had been quiet — but the moment Pei Shaohuai stepped through the gate, a crowd of young men surged out from the alleys on either side of the street, every face seething with rage, all of them wearing the look of men who had come to settle a score.
The short clubs in the young men’s hands were already being raised — then they saw that the person who had emerged was Pei Shaohuai.
Not Qi Yi.
Their hands dropped at once. Their expressions turned awkward. Fortunately, someone with a quick mind immediately took the lead and called out for the group: “We pay our respects to the Prefect.” The voices held a certain rough edge common to plain folk, yet it was possible to detect a note of genuine respect within.
Clearly, the young men of the Qi Clan Hall had come to settle accounts with Qi Tongzhi. No wonder Qi Yi was hiding inside the yamen and refusing to come out.
Pei Shaohuai looked up at the sky and asked: “At this hour, what brings you all together here?”
“Since the Prefect took up his post, the breeze here is the finest in the district. We have come to enjoy the cool air.” Someone quick-witted replied, and slipped in a word of flattery while they were at it.
“That’s right, we’re only here to cool off.”
“My lord need not worry — we are all law-abiding people. We would never cause trouble.”
The group chimed in one after another.
This was a private grievance between the Qi Clan Hall and Qi Tongzhi. Pei Shaohuai was in no rush to intervene. He said a few words of mild counsel and went on his way.
The following morning, when Pei Shaohuai returned to the yamen, he found several young men sprawled in various postures in the alleyway, fast asleep, their snores overlapping in layers — the young men of the Qi Clan Hall had apparently been keeping watch for Qi Tongzhi through the entire night.
True to their word, they had not caused trouble. They had simply “enjoyed the cool air” for one whole night.
Meanwhile, outside the Tong’an City ferry landing, a good number of “fishing boats” had slipped back under cover of darkness, and large quantities of grain and foreign goods were quietly transported into the city.
Pei Shaohuai opened up his office chamber and had barely taken his seat when a runner came to report that the Qi clan head, Qi Yu, was requesting an audience.
“Bring him in.”
The Qi clan head was not as “shrewd” as Qi Tongzhi, yet he had a better instinct for reading the moment and acting accordingly. The previous night, he had listened carefully to everything the Twenty-Seventh Elder had to say, and spent the whole night without sleep, turning it all over and weighing every detail.
This young official had known the Qi Clan Hall’s ships were concealed at Wuyu Island — and had then seen fit to include Wuyu Island in the designated “fishing zone” at precisely the right moment. This made clear that he had done his homework and come fully prepared.
This young official was not seeking money. Nor was he seeking heads to convert into merits. He therefore must be seeking something else.
Pei Shaohuai invited the Qi clan head to be seated and had tea brought.
“What brings the Qi clan head here today?”
“Previously, my eyes were poor and I judged a gentleman by the measure of a petty man. I failed to perceive my lord’s upright character, and have been full of regret ever since. I have come today especially to offer my apology.” The Qi clan head was past sixty. He had shed his former manner entirely and presented himself before Pei Shaohuai with marked humility — a man capable of both bending and standing straight. He continued: “This Qi is a man of modest accomplishment; I have achieved little in nearly sixty years. Yet having lived in Tong’an City for several decades, I have some knowledge of matters and inner workings — whether within the city or beyond it, on land or at sea. If any of it should prove useful to my lord, this Qi will speak freely and hold nothing back.”
Since he could not fathom what Pei Shaohuai was after, he simply offered himself for question and answer.
The Qi clan head had expected Pei Shaohuai to open by asking how many merchant ships the Qi family operated, what goods they traded, how much profit they turned each year — matters of that sort.
Instead, the young Prefect seated above him opened his mouth and asked: “When the Qi family’s merchant ships sail south with cargo and return laden with goods, the journey is fraught with danger at every point. Who provides escort for the Qi fleet?”
The Qi clan head considered for a moment, then replied: “Pirates.”
Not the Japanese raiders.
The clan head continued: “In places such as Mingzhou and Quanzhou, there are often powerful families who operate as merchants and pirates at once — sustaining the pirates through trade, and using the pirates to protect the trade. This serves two purposes: first, it protects the fleet from encountering Japanese raiders who kill for plunder along the way; second, it guards against the authorities sending troops to intercept them. For smaller clans like the Qi and Bao of Tong’an City, if they wish to put out to sea for trade, they have no choice but to pay these men for protection.”
In the clan head’s account, a clear distinction was drawn between pirates and Japanese raiders.
And it was not only the clan head — the local people in general made the same distinction, just as plainly.
“What cut do they take?”
“Fifty percent.”
All that hardship of a sea voyage, and half the profit handed over.
Pei Shaohuai then gathered information about which pirate chieftains operated in the outer seas and which islands they held as their bases.
When the subject turned to the difference between sea pirates and Japanese raiders, the clan head’s jaw tightened with what seemed to be suppressed anger, as though calling up some unpleasant memory. He said: “Many Da Qing people, driven to desperation, took to the sea and turned to crime, stirring up trouble on the waves. For most, it comes down to the single word ‘profit.’ The Japanese raiders, on the other hand, come season after season to harass and plunder. Their nature is fundamentally brutal — killing for goods, burning, killing, looting, enslaving. They are a true evil. It cannot be explained away as ‘seeking profit.'”
The clan head added: “Japanese are Japanese. Pirates are pirates. Even if both do evil, they cannot be spoken of in the same breath.”
“This official understands.”
It was plain to see that the local people held deeply complicated feelings toward the island pirates.
Without noticing it, the two had talked for an hour and a half. The sunlight outside the window was now brilliant and full — it was already noon. The Qi clan head rose to take his leave.
As Pei Shaohuai rose to see him off, he thought of the young men in the alleyway outside the yamen and said: “Those young men who have been gathered outside the yamen gates — I trust the Qi clan head will advise them to go home.”
He was not pleading on Qi Tongzhi’s behalf.
He added: “Should an assault on a court-appointed official occur, this official cannot look the other way. There will inevitably be consequences.”
The implication was plain: if the Qi Clan Hall wished to deal with Qi Tongzhi, they would do well to find another means. There was no need to bring disorder to the yamen’s doorstep.
“I thank my lord for the reminder. This Qi will handle the matter appropriately.”
So it was that later that afternoon, Qi Tongzhi — after watching and waiting with great caution and confirming that no one was lying in wait — finally dared to leave the yamen and return to his residence.
Yet the Qi Clan Hall’s retribution was far from over.
When the Qi household’s steward went out to purchase grain and daily necessities, the small traders who had always shown him such deference seemed to have become entirely different people overnight — ignoring him entirely, and whenever he asked a price, quoting him figures to the sky: “Ten taels of silver per catty. How many catties does the steward wish?”
The moment he tried to argue, the traders would cry out: “Is the Vice Administrator’s household trying to bully and coerce us into selling against our will?”
The Qi household’s steward could only slink away.
Chang Fan happened to be out purchasing fish, meat, and vegetables and witnessed the whole thing.
No sooner had Chang Fan stepped down from the cart than several small fish sellers came hurrying over, fish baskets and shrimp baskets in hand, greeting him warmly and speaking a few simple words in halting Mandarin: “Steward Zhang, just pulled from the water — fresh — do you want some?”
Chang Fan asked the price, and every item was offered at a very favorable rate.
For about twenty copper coins, he bought five catties of shrimp and was given a fish besides, and went home with a full load.
——
The matter of the Twenty-Seventh Elder was settled, and all of Tong’an City’s merchant ships returned without exception.
By day, the streets of Tong’an City were lively and noisy, traders’ cries ringing out one over another, and many families pushed their carts out to stock up on grain.
When night fell, the shop fronts went dark, and the city was plunged into blackness — yet all through the streets, the rumble of cart wheels could be heard, unceasing.
Out in the grove beyond the city, a makeshift market had been set up, and it was even more bustling than the city itself in broad daylight.
On this day, Pei Shaohuai summoned Bao Bantou.
In front of Pei Shaohuai, Bao Bantou remained as smooth and circumspect as ever, yet there was now a certain respect layered into it. Before answering any question, he thought it through carefully, no longer daring to try and bluff this young superior of his.
Pei Shaohuai brought up the “cousin who had returned home after doing business away,” asking: “I wonder whether Bao Bantou’s cousin is still in the village?”
Bao Bantou understood full well: his cousin was just an ordinary civilian — what reason would a Prefect have to pay him any attention? Since my lord had asked, it could only mean he had seen through his cousin’s true identity.
If my lord had truly wanted to arrest the cousin, there would have been no need for this roundabout approach. Best to answer honestly now. Bao Bantou replied: “In reply to my lord, he is still in the village.”
“This official wishes to meet with him. I ask Bao Bantou to make the arrangements.” The word used was “wishes” — but the tone was not one of consultation.
“Your subordinate understands. I will go and arrange it at once.”