novelSusiti Chapter 84 Hong Rengan
Chapter 84 Hong Rengan
Chapter 84 Hong Rengan
Near Lantau Island, there is an unnamed island.
Liu Daba's fleet anchored on the shallows on the west side of the island.
The surviving pirates were carrying the bodies off the ship in pairs, preparing to bury them.
Several hundred people went out, but more than a hundred came back missing, and some were injured, lying on the deck groaning.
The entire fleet was shrouded in gloom and despair.
One of the corpses suddenly opened its eyes.
He kicked away the pirate who was trying to lift his foot, and cursed, "Damn it, I'm not dead yet, what do you think you're doing?"
The pirate didn't tolerate him and cursed, "Damn it, why didn't you say you weren't dead? You were lying on the deck, I thought you were stinking."
"You little brat, I was injured and passed out. If I could speak, I would have already cursed your mother!"
The two argued louder and louder, which soon attracted the attention of a minor leader.
"What's all the noise about? You damn fools, get back to work!" he said irritably. "I'm telling you, the boss's in a bad mood right now. If you keep making noise, he might throw you into the sea to feed the fish!"
The two glared at each other and then fell silent.
One of the pirates turned and left.
"Old Yuan, where are you going?" The leader frowned.
"I'm going to fucking go find a doctor and get my medicine!"
Without turning his head, the pirate named Yuan Laosan said fiercely, "I'm a wounded soldier who was pecked by a bullet. What kind of work am I supposed to do after getting off the ship?" Yuan Laosan walked towards the doctor's location.
When he reached a deserted corner, he didn't hesitate and went straight into the dense jungle.
His target was the place where Liu Daba kept his gold, silver, treasures, and beautiful wives and concubines.
Sheung Wan, Hong Kong Island.
This is the main settlement of Chinese people on the island, and also the most diverse and mixed place in Hong Kong.
The narrow streets were lined with all sorts of shops: herbal medicine shops, general stores, pawnshops, opium dens, gambling houses, brothels—
The signs were densely packed together, one after another, almost blocking out the sunlight.
The ground was always wet, mixed with sewage, vegetable scraps, and human and animal excrement, emitting a nauseating stench.
With more people, shadows will naturally arise.
Dongzihui, Wan'antang, Fu'anshe, Zhonghetang, Shengzihao, Lianzihao —
Gangs of all sizes are crammed here, fighting to the death for business.
At this moment, inside the Wan'an Hall's stronghold.
"Boss, Chief Chen sent someone over with a message. They want us to help find someone, and there will be a reward after we find them."
Wan'an Hall's boss, Bengya Zhao, was lying on the couch indulging in opium, his face full of a drunken, decadent expression. Upon hearing this, he murmured, "Looking for someone? Who?"
The younger brother stood before the couch and said, "Find a guy named Hong Rengan. The other Hongmen groups should have received this commission as well."
"Then let's find him. We still have to give Chief Chen face."
Beng Ya Zhao took another drag and said, "Pass down that man's portrait so that the brothers and neighbors can all take a look and search for him."
The younger brother gave a wry smile and said, "Boss, here's the problem. They didn't provide a portrait, they only said the person should be in the Sheung Wan area."
"There are 20,000 to 30,000 people in the entire Sheung Wan area, how are you supposed to find someone by just one name?"
Bengya Zhao frowned and asked, "Are you sure Chief Chen didn't provide any other information?"
"There's another thing, that Hong Rengan must be hanging around with those red-haired devil missionaries."
Bengya Zhao stopped pulling out the ginseng, sat up from the bed, and cursed, "Damn it, with such obvious features, what's the point of a portrait?!"
"Those who associate with the missionaries of the 'red devils' are basically people who have cut off their queues and wear their clothes. Just send someone around to inquire about Han Chinese with this appearance, and ask if their name is Hong Rengan."
"Understood, boss."
Meanwhile, in Central.
After landing in Hong Kong last night on a small boat provided by Chen Wang, Yung Wing first found a hotel to rest for the night and took a hot bath, something he hadn't done in a long time.
Early this morning, he left the hotel and headed straight for Wellington Street.
He planned to visit Xiao Derui, the editor-in-chief of the Dechen West Newspaper, who had sponsored his studies in the United States, to express his gratitude.
After that, he planned to go to several churches in Central to ask the missionaries there if they knew Mr. Hung Yan-kan.
Although we've already asked the Hongmen to help us search, a two-pronged approach would be more efficient.
"By the way, Mr. Hong."
On the street, Rong Hong, carrying gifts, turned to Hongwu beside him and asked, "Why did you suddenly change your mind when we were with the Red Turban Gang? Are we not going to Nanjing?"
Hongwu is observing the scene on the Central Street.
As the core urban area of Hong Kong and a predominantly white area, its streets are wide, straight, and paved with stone slabs.
On both sides are Western-style buildings with arcades and columns. Every now and then you can see Indian men with their heads wrapped in turbans and wearing green clothes patrolling the road, chasing people while blowing whistles.
The man being chased by the Indian guy still had time to turn around and taunt: "One, two, three, four, ABCD. Big head, green shirt, can't catch the thief, blowing your own horn! Blowing your own horn!"
Upon hearing Rong Hong's question, Hongwu smiled and turned his head, saying, "Go, go to Nanjing, but also go to Guangzhou."
"Any group that resists the Qing Dynasty deserves to be met to see if they are worthy of support."
Yung Wing asked with some confusion, "Mr. Hung, isn't our main task to establish a trade route? To transport weapons here and people there. Why are we starting to support the anti-Qing forces now?"
"In the Lord's words, this is a side quest."
Hongwu said, "If the United States wants to occupy it, then the ancestral lands of the Han people should naturally be taken back."
He paused, then chuckled, "Who knows, in the future, we might take over Australia, Japan, Southeast Asia, and even South America one by one?"
Rong Hong raised an eyebrow, amused by those words.
"Wouldn't that turn it into a Pacific Rim empire? The Mediterranean is Rome's bathtub, and the Pacific is China's bathtub?"
Hongwu replied matter-of-factly, "It's not impossible."
As the two chatted, the offices of the Westin newspaper, located on Wellington Street, came into view.
"We're here, Mr. Hong. Would you like to come up with me?"
Hongwu waved his hand and said, "That won't be necessary. You can go by yourself. I'll just wander around for a bit, and we'll meet again later."
"Okay, see you later."
pier.
Led by Beng Ya Zhao, the people of Wan An Tang had just driven away a group of competitors who wanted to seize their territory.
Bengya Zhao was sitting at the Eight Immortals table, and his underlings behind him were applying liniment to the bruises on his body.
"Ouch, be gentle! You little brat, are you trying to kill me with pain?!"
Bengya Zhao grimaced and cursed, while the underling applying the medicine to him said aggrievedly, "Boss, this medicine just hurts when I apply it."
""
After applying the medicated wine, he stretched his shoulder, wincing in pain. Suddenly remembering something, he asked, "By the way, any news about the person Chief Chen asked us to find?"
The underling in charge of this matter shook his head, looking distressed, and said, "Boss, not yet. We've asked everyone in the neighborhood in Sheung Wan, but we can't find anyone named Hung Yan-kan."
"Moreover, the red-haired devils have been in Hong Kong for over ten years, and now more and more people are cutting off their queues and wearing their clothes, making them hard to find."
""
Beng Ya Zhao frowned and said, "Keep searching. We have to give Chief Chen face, and finding the person will bring benefits. Tell the brothers to keep an eye on things."
"Understood, boss."
Meanwhile, in Central, Pottinger Street.
This street is one of the oldest streets in Hong Kong, lined with all sorts of trading companies and shops. At the end of the street stands a steeple church, St. John's Cathedral, built in 1849.
Yung Wing came out and scratched his head. "It's strange that the pastors here don't recognize Hung Yan-gan either."
Hongwu was also puzzled: "We've been to all three churches in Hong Kong—St. John's Cathedral, the Immaculate Conception Church, and the Anglican Church—how could we not have visited them?"
Rong Hong thought for a moment and said, "Could it be that we're looking in the wrong direction? Hong Rengan is indeed with a pastor, but he's definitely not in the church."
"What do you mean?"
Yung Wing said, "Some white pastors don't really like staying in churches; they prefer building schools and hospitals and preaching there."
After saying that, he went into St. John's Cathedral.
A few minutes later, Yung Wing came out, looking excited.
"Mr. Hong, let's go. I think I know where he is!"
"where?"
"Anglo-Chinese College!"
Ying Wa College is located at the junction of Sheung Wan and Central.
Founded by the London Missionary Society, the school implemented bilingual teaching in Chinese and English and was specifically designed to train Chinese missionaries and assistants.
The academy was small, a three-story building. People lived upstairs, and classes were held downstairs.
Several young people in long gowns were reading in the courtyard, while others carried newly printed propaganda materials out the gate.
Upon seeing Rong Hong and Hong Wu enter, they both looked up at the two men with curiosity.
"Gentlemen, who are you looking for?"
Yung Wing said, "Hello, we are looking for a Mr. Hong Rengan."
"Hong Rengan?"
The young men looked at each other, and then one of them spoke up: "Sir, we don't have anyone named Hong Rengan here, but we do have a teacher named Hong Ren."
The two exchanged a glance and began to speak in hushed tones.
Could it be him?
"They might be using an alias; we'll find out by meeting them and testing them."
Yung Wing nodded, then looked up and asked the young man, "Where is Mr. Hong Ren now?"
The young man pointed to the leftmost door on the second floor and said, "Teacher Hong finished teaching a class not long ago and went back to his dormitory to rest."
Thank you!
Rong Hong nodded to them, quickly went upstairs to the second floor, walked to the door, and knocked.
A man in his thirties opened the door.
He was wearing a Western-style shirt and trousers, and his hair was cut very short; he didn't have a braid.
"Who are you looking for?" he asked.
Yung Wing looked at him and asked, "Is your surname Hong, sir?"
The man paused for a moment, then nodded: "My surname is Hong, Hong Ren. May I ask who you are—"
Yung Wing took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Hung Yan-gan, I've been looking for you for a long time."
The man's expression changed slightly. He remained silent for a few seconds before stepping aside.
"Come in."
The two sat down in the room. It was a simple study with a desk and several bookshelves filled with foreign books and Chinese classics.
Hong Rengan stared at Rong Hong with a wary look in his eyes.
How do you know my name?
Rong Hong did not rush to answer, but first took a look at the simple study.
The bookshelves were filled with English and Chinese classics, and on the table was an open Bible with a stack of manuscript paper covered in writing.
I glanced at it briefly, and the manuscript was mostly about learning from the West and eliminating decadence.
Hong Rengan slightly turned his body to block the manuscript paper and said in a deep voice, "Sir, you have not yet answered my question."
Yung Wing smiled slightly and said, "Mr. Hong, my name is Yung Wing. I am from Xiangshan. I studied in the United States for seven years and recently graduated from Yale College."
Hong Rengan's brows relaxed. People with this kind of background are generally not from the Qing court.
"I've heard of Yale College. So, Mr. Rong, what brings you here? And how did you find out about me?"
Yung Wing said, "I'm being asked by someone to do you a favor."
"What kind of help?"
Yung Wing said, "I would like to ask you to take us to see someone, your cousin, Hong Xiuquan, the Heavenly King of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom."
Hong Rengan's expression changed only slightly.
When Yung Wing came to his door, he was already aware that his identity had been exposed, so he wasn't particularly shocked.
He shook his head and said, "Then you might be disappointed, Mr. Rong."
"I'm not very familiar with my cousin, so I can't do that."
Yung Wing chuckled and shook his head: "Mr. Hung, you were the first believer developed by Heavenly King Society, and one of the founders of the God Worshipping Society. How could you not be familiar with it?"
Hong Rengan's expression changed completely.
He abruptly took two steps back, his eyes filled with wariness as he stared at Rong Hong.
"How—how did you know—?"
It was Hongwu who told me this before he entered the gate, although I don't know where he found out from.
While thinking to himself, Yung Wing said aloud, "Mr. Hung, you don't need to be nervous. We are not people of the Qing government, nor are we foreign spies."
We are business people with mines, ships, and people in the United States. We want to sell goods to China, such as machinery, guns, and ammunition. We're willing to sell to anyone who can afford it.
The Qing court is corrupt, and we have no desire to assist the Manchus. Therefore, we wish to establish a connection with the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom through you.
Hong Rengan slowly exhaled a breath of stale air and asked, "Guns and cannons? You have guns and cannons?"
Yung Wing nodded: "Yes. New-style rifles, revolvers, and automatic weapons, I guarantee you've never seen anything like them before."
Hong Rengan stared at him, remained silent for a while, and then shook his head.
"It's not that I don't want to help you, it's that I really can't."
The Qing army's Jiangnan and Jiangbei camps, numbering over 100,000 men, surrounded Nanjing like an iron barrel. I tried many times, but to no avail.
Yung Wing said, "I know. But we have a way."
"What method?"
Rong Hong did not answer directly, but said, "Mr. Hong, if you are willing to come with us, we guarantee that we can get you safely to Tianjing."
Hong Rengan suddenly asked, "What did you see during your seven years in America?"
Yung Wing paused for a moment, then replied, "I saw the factory, the railway, the telegraph, and the steam engine."
We saw how foreigners used these things to make money, how they used them to wage war, and how they used them to trample the whole world under their feet.
He paused, then said, "We also saw how China was trampled under their feet."
Hong Rengan nodded, then asked, "So, what do you think China should do?"
Rong Hongdao said, "Learn from them. Learn their technology, their systems, their ideas; learn from the barbarians' superior techniques to control them."
'
Hong Rengan's eyes lit up: "You and I are thinking the same thing."
He handed the manuscript behind him to Yung Wing, saying, "These are what I've written over the years. They contain my observations of Western systems and my ideas for reforming the Heavenly Kingdom. Take a look."
Yung Wing took it and flipped to one of the pages.
The words written on it are four characters: "A New Treatise on Governance".
"This is what I prepared to dedicate to my cousin, but it's not finished yet."
He looked at Rong Hong with a hint of expectation in his eyes.
"Do you really have a way to get me to Tianjing?"
Yung Wing nodded solemnly: "Yes."
Hong Rengan smiled and said, "Tell me about the power behind you too."