What a weird drawing. It looks like the guy is eating chips and watching a TV that is just off screen. 😆
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Restoration of the Great Ming: A Tianqi Timeline
- Thread starter RexSueciae
- Start date
Oh damn you should have told us you were breaking the fourth wall. I reread it but couldn’t find any strong hint. Actually I was confused too.
It really does! He's supposed to be reading the book he's holding, but the shelves in front of him look very much like a TV stand.
Maybe the Ming dynasty were time travelers. Gavin Menzies wishes he had what I have.
Haha. Good point -- I went ahead and put a horizontal line + bolded the intro note to demarcate the separation a bit better. Hopefully that'll lessen confusion.
The Curious Adventures of Judge Dee [Chapter One]
Harbor of Luoyang, Dongshan[1]
The ship was mercifully tied to the pier, no longer at the whim of the ocean’s swells. That made it a lot more convenient for him to vomit messily over the side.
“Cheer up, lad,” his companion, an older man by the name of Lu, happily offered. “We’re here at last. Good to get our feet on solid ground again, eh?”
Di Yimin shot him a dirty look. Mr. Lu had been sent as a sort of guide and escort from the court of Admiral Zheng, and apart from his ineffable good humor, the bastard had the luck to not get seasick. Whereas he, a scholar-gentleman of impeccable lineage, who had been awarded the Jinshi degree on his very first try, had been almost completely incapacitated every moment that their ship was at sea.
“I’ll be fine.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And when we are on land, I would advise you to be very careful with respect for my title, lest anyone get the wrong idea.”
“Aye, that’s very fair, I’ll do my best to remember, lad. I mean, uh, your magistracy. Excellence. Fuck, what was the formula...”
Magistrate Di just sighed. Wasn’t any use getting irritated at the man. Sure, he was missing several teeth and seemed likelier to trip over his own feet than move with any amount of natural grace. But Dongshan was a polyglot sort of territory, so they said, and Mr. Lu apparently had great skill with languages. He claimed that he could converse with just about anyone in the southern half of the empire, and that count included the pale foreign merchants and the reclusive forest-dwellers. Nobody would mistake him for a classical poet, though. Some men simply were made with a certain level of inelegance.
In any case, Mr. Lu would do for now. Having a translator on hand was useful enough.
Disembarking the ship was a bit of anticlimax. Not a single person here seemed to have the proper knowledge of ceremony. And Mr. Lu anxiously caught his attention as they crossed the gangplank. “I know that you official types like to ride around in a fancy litter, y’know the kind of thing, but we don’t really have that around here. I mean, the Admiral himself doesn’t use them much, if you like I can ask around and see if we could rent one...”
“It’s fine.” He might as well wave it off. There ought to have been one reserved ahead of time, but getting angry at Mr. Lu wouldn’t solve anything. Walking wouldn’t kill them. “I don’t suppose that the Admiral is going to be meeting us here, is he?”
“Uh, no, your intelligency. He’s at his palace right now, I should think, since he’s just returned from an expedition to the north.”
“Very well. Then we shall call upon him.” This was all somewhat irregular. If the Admiral was indeed a governor, or some other figure within the strictly regimented system, then it would have been perfectly correct for him to receive a new magistrate at his administrative center. If, on the other hand, the Admiral was no more than an up-jumped pirate, as some at court seemed to (quietly) think, it should have been him arriving at the harbor to greet the newest representative of the emperor’s formal power. But, of course, it was said that the emperor favored this incredibly irregular viceroy.
Magistrate Di didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. “Oh, and Lu? If you are going to mangle my style of address,” he said to his companion, “at least pick one form and mangle it consistently.”
“Very well, my liege. Uh, that’s too formal. Honorable sir? Blast it all. I’ll think of something...”
Sighing to himself, Magistrate Di followed the still-rambling man. They were, it seemed, proceeding to the Admiral’s palace on foot. Which wasn’t as bad as it sounded, since he knew instinctively that getting out among the people was probably a good idea. See how they acted in person, outside the pages of a book. But the general impression he was getting so far was a riotous mass of human flesh, yammering in such dialects that he could only catch one word in three, if he was lucky.
And the heat -- muggy in the extreme, although he understood that this was genuinely an unseasonably warm day. Eventually he took off his magistrate’s cap and used it to fan his face. Nobody seemed to be giving him a second glance anyways.
“What’s this district here?”
“Hm?” Mr. Lu turned around. “Oh, yeah, those buildings, there’s a bunch of shrines and whatnot. Someone must’ve thought it was an auspicious place to build ‘em. Personally I just think it’s just part of the town away from all the mud and shit. You know, because there’s a little bit of a slope and when it all rolls downhill-”
“Mhm. That big tall building. Whose is that?”
“That one? Oh, that’s the temple of the Lord Three-In-One. Plenty of folks worship him here.”
“Interesting.” Magistrate Di had seen the building that the Jesuits had appropriated back in Beijing, but it looked nothing like this impressive edifice. “There are enough Christians here for them to have their own church?” He scrupulously used the term Tianzhu in his description of the sect, as was only proper.
“The Chr- oh, I see. No sir, these are different from them, it’s a Fujian thing. Lord Three-In-One was a great sage and teacher from somewhere on the mainland.[2] A lot of the locals have taken to his veneration, seeing as he was gifted with such wisdom. But the Christians also have their own church somewhere, I think. Now, that one down there? Yeah, that’s where the Princess of Heaven has a shrine.[3] Burn incense for her, your ship won’t get lost at sea. Or so they say! Nice folks, I make sure to pay my respects whenever I can.”
“That all sounds...reasonable.” He hadn’t exactly expected this territory to be full of barbarians, but it was still a little surprising that everything was -- well, it was shaped more or less like any other imperial province.
“Oh, of course, people here have different needs from the inland provinces, you know. No disrespect meant. But everyone sorta goes with what they require at the moment, a safe childbirth, a decent funeral. I figure that’s universal the world ‘round. Doesn’t matter if you’re a lama from a far-out western monastery or a sinew-cutter from Kaifeng, it’s all the same at the end of the day.”[4]
Magistrate Di frowned. The sentiment reminded him of a borderline-innovative thing that the emperor was reputed to have expressed during a court audience. Well, there’s wisdom to be found everywhere, he was sure. Even from the mouth of Mr. Lu.
“If I might inquire,” he said, “how far is it to the Admiral’s palace? We have been walking for quite some time now.”
“Oh, your excellency, not that far at all. Only about two or three more li and we’re there.”
“Two or thr- what! in this heat?! So help us all, Mr. Lu, you will find us a teahouse where we can take nourishment or I promise you, my corpse will be your problem to solve!”
Footnotes
[1] I would like to reiterate that Luoyang is the TTL name of the island’s primary settlement / port city, not to be confused with the other city of that name in central China. See the 1633 installment for how this came to pass.
[2] The church that worships Lord Three-In-One is a real thing that exists and is completely distinct from Trinitarian Christianity. Despite the name, which sounds a lot like a description of the Christian trinity.
[3] Also known as Mazu, a prominent local goddess in Fujian. While nowadays she is often addressed as “Queen of Heaven,” that title was conveyed in 1683 IOTL. Particularly prominent among seafarers in this era, IOTL she is reputed to have aided Koxinga in his conquest of Taiwan.
[4] The sect of “sinew-cutters” that Mr. Lu mentions is, of course, a reference to the Kaifeng Jews, who are doing a bit better ITTL. (For one thing, Li Zicheng isn’t going to attack Kaifeing in 1644, because he’s dead, which means that the city won’t be flooded by its defenders deliberately breaching the dikes, which means that the community won’t lose its synagogue in the flood. Although clearly they are still a small minority within Kaifeng, to say nothing of China proper.)
The ship was mercifully tied to the pier, no longer at the whim of the ocean’s swells. That made it a lot more convenient for him to vomit messily over the side.
“Cheer up, lad,” his companion, an older man by the name of Lu, happily offered. “We’re here at last. Good to get our feet on solid ground again, eh?”
Di Yimin shot him a dirty look. Mr. Lu had been sent as a sort of guide and escort from the court of Admiral Zheng, and apart from his ineffable good humor, the bastard had the luck to not get seasick. Whereas he, a scholar-gentleman of impeccable lineage, who had been awarded the Jinshi degree on his very first try, had been almost completely incapacitated every moment that their ship was at sea.
“I’ll be fine.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And when we are on land, I would advise you to be very careful with respect for my title, lest anyone get the wrong idea.”
“Aye, that’s very fair, I’ll do my best to remember, lad. I mean, uh, your magistracy. Excellence. Fuck, what was the formula...”
Magistrate Di just sighed. Wasn’t any use getting irritated at the man. Sure, he was missing several teeth and seemed likelier to trip over his own feet than move with any amount of natural grace. But Dongshan was a polyglot sort of territory, so they said, and Mr. Lu apparently had great skill with languages. He claimed that he could converse with just about anyone in the southern half of the empire, and that count included the pale foreign merchants and the reclusive forest-dwellers. Nobody would mistake him for a classical poet, though. Some men simply were made with a certain level of inelegance.
In any case, Mr. Lu would do for now. Having a translator on hand was useful enough.
Disembarking the ship was a bit of anticlimax. Not a single person here seemed to have the proper knowledge of ceremony. And Mr. Lu anxiously caught his attention as they crossed the gangplank. “I know that you official types like to ride around in a fancy litter, y’know the kind of thing, but we don’t really have that around here. I mean, the Admiral himself doesn’t use them much, if you like I can ask around and see if we could rent one...”
“It’s fine.” He might as well wave it off. There ought to have been one reserved ahead of time, but getting angry at Mr. Lu wouldn’t solve anything. Walking wouldn’t kill them. “I don’t suppose that the Admiral is going to be meeting us here, is he?”
“Uh, no, your intelligency. He’s at his palace right now, I should think, since he’s just returned from an expedition to the north.”
“Very well. Then we shall call upon him.” This was all somewhat irregular. If the Admiral was indeed a governor, or some other figure within the strictly regimented system, then it would have been perfectly correct for him to receive a new magistrate at his administrative center. If, on the other hand, the Admiral was no more than an up-jumped pirate, as some at court seemed to (quietly) think, it should have been him arriving at the harbor to greet the newest representative of the emperor’s formal power. But, of course, it was said that the emperor favored this incredibly irregular viceroy.
Magistrate Di didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. “Oh, and Lu? If you are going to mangle my style of address,” he said to his companion, “at least pick one form and mangle it consistently.”
“Very well, my liege. Uh, that’s too formal. Honorable sir? Blast it all. I’ll think of something...”
Sighing to himself, Magistrate Di followed the still-rambling man. They were, it seemed, proceeding to the Admiral’s palace on foot. Which wasn’t as bad as it sounded, since he knew instinctively that getting out among the people was probably a good idea. See how they acted in person, outside the pages of a book. But the general impression he was getting so far was a riotous mass of human flesh, yammering in such dialects that he could only catch one word in three, if he was lucky.
And the heat -- muggy in the extreme, although he understood that this was genuinely an unseasonably warm day. Eventually he took off his magistrate’s cap and used it to fan his face. Nobody seemed to be giving him a second glance anyways.
“What’s this district here?”
“Hm?” Mr. Lu turned around. “Oh, yeah, those buildings, there’s a bunch of shrines and whatnot. Someone must’ve thought it was an auspicious place to build ‘em. Personally I just think it’s just part of the town away from all the mud and shit. You know, because there’s a little bit of a slope and when it all rolls downhill-”
“Mhm. That big tall building. Whose is that?”
“That one? Oh, that’s the temple of the Lord Three-In-One. Plenty of folks worship him here.”
“Interesting.” Magistrate Di had seen the building that the Jesuits had appropriated back in Beijing, but it looked nothing like this impressive edifice. “There are enough Christians here for them to have their own church?” He scrupulously used the term Tianzhu in his description of the sect, as was only proper.
“The Chr- oh, I see. No sir, these are different from them, it’s a Fujian thing. Lord Three-In-One was a great sage and teacher from somewhere on the mainland.[2] A lot of the locals have taken to his veneration, seeing as he was gifted with such wisdom. But the Christians also have their own church somewhere, I think. Now, that one down there? Yeah, that’s where the Princess of Heaven has a shrine.[3] Burn incense for her, your ship won’t get lost at sea. Or so they say! Nice folks, I make sure to pay my respects whenever I can.”
“That all sounds...reasonable.” He hadn’t exactly expected this territory to be full of barbarians, but it was still a little surprising that everything was -- well, it was shaped more or less like any other imperial province.
“Oh, of course, people here have different needs from the inland provinces, you know. No disrespect meant. But everyone sorta goes with what they require at the moment, a safe childbirth, a decent funeral. I figure that’s universal the world ‘round. Doesn’t matter if you’re a lama from a far-out western monastery or a sinew-cutter from Kaifeng, it’s all the same at the end of the day.”[4]
Magistrate Di frowned. The sentiment reminded him of a borderline-innovative thing that the emperor was reputed to have expressed during a court audience. Well, there’s wisdom to be found everywhere, he was sure. Even from the mouth of Mr. Lu.
“If I might inquire,” he said, “how far is it to the Admiral’s palace? We have been walking for quite some time now.”
“Oh, your excellency, not that far at all. Only about two or three more li and we’re there.”
“Two or thr- what! in this heat?! So help us all, Mr. Lu, you will find us a teahouse where we can take nourishment or I promise you, my corpse will be your problem to solve!”
Footnotes
[1] I would like to reiterate that Luoyang is the TTL name of the island’s primary settlement / port city, not to be confused with the other city of that name in central China. See the 1633 installment for how this came to pass.
[2] The church that worships Lord Three-In-One is a real thing that exists and is completely distinct from Trinitarian Christianity. Despite the name, which sounds a lot like a description of the Christian trinity.
[3] Also known as Mazu, a prominent local goddess in Fujian. While nowadays she is often addressed as “Queen of Heaven,” that title was conveyed in 1683 IOTL. Particularly prominent among seafarers in this era, IOTL she is reputed to have aided Koxinga in his conquest of Taiwan.
[4] The sect of “sinew-cutters” that Mr. Lu mentions is, of course, a reference to the Kaifeng Jews, who are doing a bit better ITTL. (For one thing, Li Zicheng isn’t going to attack Kaifeing in 1644, because he’s dead, which means that the city won’t be flooded by its defenders deliberately breaching the dikes, which means that the community won’t lose its synagogue in the flood. Although clearly they are still a small minority within Kaifeng, to say nothing of China proper.)
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Given that Zheng Zhilong himself has organized a personal bodyguard force composed entirely of former African slaves of the Portuguese, the unintentional parallels only continue to pile up.
Here's hoping the Kaifeng Jews continue to prosper. It's fascinating how long they managed to survive, while the Church of the East was obliterated.
Damn I almost thought about trinity too.
Nevertheless, these pieces of a new guy exploring a new place gives off an adventuring vibe.
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The Curious Adventures of Judge Dee [Chapter Two]
Admiral’s Palace, Dongshan
The Admiral of the Coastal Seas had built a palace for himself a little distance from the main settlement. While the palace compound occupied a decent patch of land, Magistrate Di was nonplussed to note that many of the buildings were rather short and squat, not nearly as tall as palaces sometimes were.[1]
Mr. Lu led him through the outermost gate and into a courtyard where they were halted by a guard. “One moment, please,” the guard requested; he spoke, Magistrate Di observed, with passable diction. After a brief conference with one of his comrades, he waved them through.
This palace lacked the patina of time which seemed to imbue some of the buildings in the capital. Generations of emperors had progressively added to the decor, acquiring trinkets or renovating the intricate furnishings.
Not much of that was present here. It reminded Magistrate Di of a military camp, although he had little enough experience there. The guardsmen -- physically imposing, all clad in gleaming metal armor and carrying polearms -- were just about the only interesting sight.
“It don’t look like much,” Mr. Lu whispered to him, almost clairvoyantly, “but that’s only because the boss is usually busy with other things. Like his wife- nahh I won’t finish that thought.” Then why did you bring it up? Magistrate Di suppressed a sarcastic remark.
“Oh, that’s my cue.” His companion trotted forward as the guards escorted them into what was clearly a throne room. “May I present,” he announced, “his excellency, Magistrate Di Yimin!”
And he didn’t flub my title this time. Truly, this is an age of miracles and wonder.
Magistrate Di stepped forward. He’d given the matter of court protocol some very careful thought during his journey (that is, when he wasn’t busy vomiting from seasickness). A commoner would prostrate themselves upon the ground, in the august presence of the emperor’s representative. But then, he was no commoner, and in fact could probably claim a more orthodox commission from the imperial court. Still, it was important to respect your superiors, no matter how piratical they might be.
When Mr. Lu introduced him, he bowed, very correctly but not too low. Just enough, he hoped, to be respectful without unduly debasing himself.
Straightening again, he got his first good look at the Admiral. The man was, surprisingly, of an age with him, or maybe a little older.[2] An attractive face, a man who obviously possessed that intangible knack for command. Maybe even a decent choice for the emperor to have appointed as viceroy for this region, Magistrate Di admitted to himself.
Admiral Zheng looked at him, and said nothing for a while, before abruptly asking: “So. Who’d you piss off to get sent here?”
What. “What?”
“You heard me. We are at the furthest frontier of the empire. I suppose being posted way out in the west might be worse, depending on how remote you are, or somewhere in the way of an invasion from the north. But they don’t send Jinshi graduates out there unless they really fuck up. But they sent you here. Why?”
“Would you believe it if I said I volunteered?”
“Maybe. Almost. If I do believe you then you’re a damned fool.” The Admiral made a gesture of indifference. “Not that I care. I’ve got an island to rule. You’ve got the man who calls himself the Sun King up the coast a ways, and either we’ve gotta bump him off or else make sure he understands how things run. The guys on the other side are more even-keeled but there isn’t a single potentate to deal with so we’ve gotta approach each village basically one at a time. And don’t get me started on those Spanish. Don’t trust them, but I can live with them as neighbors. For now.”
Brief silence.
“Anyways,” Admiral Zheng said, “I’ll be dealing with all of that. You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”
Magistrate Di coughed. “Unfortunately, one of my first set of instructions specifically concerned you.”
“Oh?”
“According to reports which have reached Beijing, some months ago you ordered the execution of eight subjects of the emperor without receiving confirmation-”
“Oh, that.” The Admiral waved a hand. “They were common brawlers and it would’ve touched off a whole thing with the northern tribes if I’d let it continue. Don’t worry about it, I only had them strangled.”[3]
“Regardless. The rules-”
“Fuck the rules.” Admiral Zheng leaned forward. “I acted quickly to head off a crisis. If custom says that I should’ve gotten confirmation from Beijing -- Heaven is high, and the emperor is far away.”[4]
Magistrate Di let that hang in the air for a moment. “As a wartime commander, your discretion is respected. But from now on, matters of criminal law are my responsibility. Anyone who is put to death under the law shall be subject to the totality of the legal procedures. I hope we can come to an understanding over this.”
The Admiral threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. One less thing to occupy my time so I can focus more on ruling a damned island.” He snorted. “At least you’ve got fire in your belly. Maybe I like that. Far sight better than a lot of you scholar-types.”
Magistrate Di ignored that final barb. “And I will need a proper court building, a support staff-”
“Yeah, yeah, you can have a building. You’ll have to hire from the locals if you want a staff, though. I’ve already given you Mr. Lu and that’s about all I can spare, unless you’d like the pick of the local ruffians-”
“That will do.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have someone show you to your residence in a bit. After dinner, though. Might as well have a bite to eat. Knowing you landlubbers, you probably puked your guts out before you got here.”
Footnotes
[1] Zheng Zhilong is no fool. Dongshan (OTL Taiwan) is located along the Ring of Fire and tends to be seismically active. Anyone from Fujian, just across a narrow strait of water, would remember the incredibly powerful 1604 earthquake. Which isn’t to say earthquakes don’t happen elsewhere in China, but for that and for other reasons Admiral Zheng has opted for a less towering sort of residence. We wouldn’t consider his palace to be earthquake-proof by modern terms, but it’s a bit less likely to suffer catastrophic failure.
[2] Zheng Zhilong is exactly thirty years old as of 1634, the current year. With a scholar-bureaucrat advancing through the levels of the civil service examinations, a “normal” schedule might have them attaining the Jinshi degree by their early thirties -- this is assuming that they manage to pass all the levels, even if it takes them a few tries (which it often did). Di Yimin has advanced rapidly through the examinations and is thus approximately the same age as Zheng Zhilong.
[3] Capital punishment in imperial China had several gradations. Strangulation was seen as the most lenient method, since the body remained more or less intact afterwards. Decapitation was used for more serious offenses. Slow slicing was reserved for the worst of the worst, although the usual procedure was to kill the person relatively quickly and then to inflict the rest of the wounds postmortem. A professor of mine described it as akin to “ritual dismemberment,” since the disfigurement of the body was the important thing. (Of course, some unfortunate prisoners were certainly not killed quickly, depending on the seriousness of their crime and the cruelty of the emperor.)
[4] 天高帝远. A common proverb.
The Admiral of the Coastal Seas had built a palace for himself a little distance from the main settlement. While the palace compound occupied a decent patch of land, Magistrate Di was nonplussed to note that many of the buildings were rather short and squat, not nearly as tall as palaces sometimes were.[1]
Mr. Lu led him through the outermost gate and into a courtyard where they were halted by a guard. “One moment, please,” the guard requested; he spoke, Magistrate Di observed, with passable diction. After a brief conference with one of his comrades, he waved them through.
This palace lacked the patina of time which seemed to imbue some of the buildings in the capital. Generations of emperors had progressively added to the decor, acquiring trinkets or renovating the intricate furnishings.
Not much of that was present here. It reminded Magistrate Di of a military camp, although he had little enough experience there. The guardsmen -- physically imposing, all clad in gleaming metal armor and carrying polearms -- were just about the only interesting sight.
“It don’t look like much,” Mr. Lu whispered to him, almost clairvoyantly, “but that’s only because the boss is usually busy with other things. Like his wife- nahh I won’t finish that thought.” Then why did you bring it up? Magistrate Di suppressed a sarcastic remark.
“Oh, that’s my cue.” His companion trotted forward as the guards escorted them into what was clearly a throne room. “May I present,” he announced, “his excellency, Magistrate Di Yimin!”
And he didn’t flub my title this time. Truly, this is an age of miracles and wonder.
Magistrate Di stepped forward. He’d given the matter of court protocol some very careful thought during his journey (that is, when he wasn’t busy vomiting from seasickness). A commoner would prostrate themselves upon the ground, in the august presence of the emperor’s representative. But then, he was no commoner, and in fact could probably claim a more orthodox commission from the imperial court. Still, it was important to respect your superiors, no matter how piratical they might be.
When Mr. Lu introduced him, he bowed, very correctly but not too low. Just enough, he hoped, to be respectful without unduly debasing himself.
Straightening again, he got his first good look at the Admiral. The man was, surprisingly, of an age with him, or maybe a little older.[2] An attractive face, a man who obviously possessed that intangible knack for command. Maybe even a decent choice for the emperor to have appointed as viceroy for this region, Magistrate Di admitted to himself.
Admiral Zheng looked at him, and said nothing for a while, before abruptly asking: “So. Who’d you piss off to get sent here?”
What. “What?”
“You heard me. We are at the furthest frontier of the empire. I suppose being posted way out in the west might be worse, depending on how remote you are, or somewhere in the way of an invasion from the north. But they don’t send Jinshi graduates out there unless they really fuck up. But they sent you here. Why?”
“Would you believe it if I said I volunteered?”
“Maybe. Almost. If I do believe you then you’re a damned fool.” The Admiral made a gesture of indifference. “Not that I care. I’ve got an island to rule. You’ve got the man who calls himself the Sun King up the coast a ways, and either we’ve gotta bump him off or else make sure he understands how things run. The guys on the other side are more even-keeled but there isn’t a single potentate to deal with so we’ve gotta approach each village basically one at a time. And don’t get me started on those Spanish. Don’t trust them, but I can live with them as neighbors. For now.”
Brief silence.
“Anyways,” Admiral Zheng said, “I’ll be dealing with all of that. You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”
Magistrate Di coughed. “Unfortunately, one of my first set of instructions specifically concerned you.”
“Oh?”
“According to reports which have reached Beijing, some months ago you ordered the execution of eight subjects of the emperor without receiving confirmation-”
“Oh, that.” The Admiral waved a hand. “They were common brawlers and it would’ve touched off a whole thing with the northern tribes if I’d let it continue. Don’t worry about it, I only had them strangled.”[3]
“Regardless. The rules-”
“Fuck the rules.” Admiral Zheng leaned forward. “I acted quickly to head off a crisis. If custom says that I should’ve gotten confirmation from Beijing -- Heaven is high, and the emperor is far away.”[4]
Magistrate Di let that hang in the air for a moment. “As a wartime commander, your discretion is respected. But from now on, matters of criminal law are my responsibility. Anyone who is put to death under the law shall be subject to the totality of the legal procedures. I hope we can come to an understanding over this.”
The Admiral threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. One less thing to occupy my time so I can focus more on ruling a damned island.” He snorted. “At least you’ve got fire in your belly. Maybe I like that. Far sight better than a lot of you scholar-types.”
Magistrate Di ignored that final barb. “And I will need a proper court building, a support staff-”
“Yeah, yeah, you can have a building. You’ll have to hire from the locals if you want a staff, though. I’ve already given you Mr. Lu and that’s about all I can spare, unless you’d like the pick of the local ruffians-”
“That will do.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have someone show you to your residence in a bit. After dinner, though. Might as well have a bite to eat. Knowing you landlubbers, you probably puked your guts out before you got here.”
Footnotes
[1] Zheng Zhilong is no fool. Dongshan (OTL Taiwan) is located along the Ring of Fire and tends to be seismically active. Anyone from Fujian, just across a narrow strait of water, would remember the incredibly powerful 1604 earthquake. Which isn’t to say earthquakes don’t happen elsewhere in China, but for that and for other reasons Admiral Zheng has opted for a less towering sort of residence. We wouldn’t consider his palace to be earthquake-proof by modern terms, but it’s a bit less likely to suffer catastrophic failure.
[2] Zheng Zhilong is exactly thirty years old as of 1634, the current year. With a scholar-bureaucrat advancing through the levels of the civil service examinations, a “normal” schedule might have them attaining the Jinshi degree by their early thirties -- this is assuming that they manage to pass all the levels, even if it takes them a few tries (which it often did). Di Yimin has advanced rapidly through the examinations and is thus approximately the same age as Zheng Zhilong.
[3] Capital punishment in imperial China had several gradations. Strangulation was seen as the most lenient method, since the body remained more or less intact afterwards. Decapitation was used for more serious offenses. Slow slicing was reserved for the worst of the worst, although the usual procedure was to kill the person relatively quickly and then to inflict the rest of the wounds postmortem. A professor of mine described it as akin to “ritual dismemberment,” since the disfigurement of the body was the important thing. (Of course, some unfortunate prisoners were certainly not killed quickly, depending on the seriousness of their crime and the cruelty of the emperor.)
[4] 天高帝远. A common proverb.
Oops forgot to reply to some comments. One second.
Thanks! We'll get back to the mainland eventually, to the rest of the stuff happening during the Tianqi era, but 1) I thought a bit of microhistory-as-narrative would be fun 2) I wanted to do a quick tribute to Judge Dee 3) I expect a change of pace will prevent me from burning out quite so fast. So here we are!
I hope so too. This isn't going to be a TL about them becoming the next dynasty or anything (although that would be a neat challenge, have a TL with a Jewish dynasty ruling China) (do people still play "pin the Zion on the Eurasia"?) but every now and then, they might show up. Kaifeng's still a decently important city.
Zheng zhilong looks like a cool kind of guy. It was indeed a hearty exchange between the seasoned pirate turned Viceroy and the uppity scholar magistrate. Your inclusion of humor and sarcasm in the story without ruining the atmosphere of history. As a guy fond of pov style I admit that I've fallen in love with your writing which gives a few thumbs to writing my own TL.
Well, if you like the narratives of the last couple installments, there'll be some more of this sort of thing after we wrap up the story of Magistrate Di -- I've got at least one storyline that'll require narrative interludes -- and thank you for continuing to read! I'm glad you like it, and good luck with your own writing!
The Curious Adventures of Judge Dee [Chapter Three]
Luoyang Yamen, Dongshan
The dinner wasn’t half bad. Some unusual flavors and textures. The stir-fry included a crisp white vegetable, not unlike water chestnut but unfamiliar to him, which Mr. Lu identified as a fan-ge.[1] Magistrate Di ate sparingly, wishing to avoid digestive trouble. At least none of the food was obviously poisonous.
Before proceeding to his new offices -- he’d been assured that the building reserved for him was in good condition -- he had Mr. Lu inquire after any prisoners that the Admiral currently had jailed for minor offenses. They’d found a guardsman whose brow creased with puzzlement upon hearing their request. “Sure,” he’d said, “we have a few in custody, if you’d like to see them.” And he’d brought forth a couple of vagabondish-looking types.
Magistrate Di surveyed the prisoners. One was a bit taller, or maybe just carried himself a little more upright, had a lighter complexion and a small divot of flesh missing from his face just to the side of his left eye. The other one slouched beneath his mop of dark hair; Magistrate Di fancied his head was just a trifle too large.
“Your names?”
“I am called Gao Zhiying,” said the first one, and “Yang Zhaoyu,” said the second.[2]
“The Admiral, I expect, has had you detained for some crime,” Magistrate Di said. “What is it that he’s accused you of doing?”
“Well,” said Gao, “I think it’s more in the area of a disagreement.”
“Yeah,” said Yang, “we found some treasures that the Dutch had left behind, when they’d fled. And we were of the opinion that it should belong to the two of us, as the rightful finders.”
“And the Admiral disagreed,” said Gao. “He thought it should have been all his, and had us locked up after he took our stuff.”
Magistrate Di raised an eyebrow. “And you properly reported your discovery when you found it? You did not, I assume, stash the treasure away immediately in the hope that nobody would ever know?”
A brief silence.
“Very well,” Magistrate Di said. “If the Admiral has taken back what you found, I see no reason for further penalties. You will not be held responsible for holding back from the emperor’s taxes on your windfall, nor for annoying the emperor’s viceroy of Dongshan. From now on, the two of you will serve as my personal guards. You will be paid regularly so long as you stay out of trouble and do as I instruct.”
Gao rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That is a compelling offer. And if we ‘find’ any more treasures...?”
Magistrate Di gave him a level look. “The alternative is that I leave you to whatever questionably legal retribution the Admiral has in mind. Rest assured that when you are with me, I will protect you in exchange for your complete honesty in all things. Report to me anything and everything of interest. And resist the temptation to charge ‘extra fees’ to petitioners who wish to see me. I may approve certain measures to offset administrative costs, if you present the cause to me most eloquently, but the important thing is that you run everything by me first. I shall not tolerate arbitrariness in this district.”
Yang made a gesture of indifference. “Eh. I suppose that’s a real decent deal, all things considered. Gao, we might want to accept those terms.”
“I suppose we shall.”
“Right, then,” Yang said cheerfully. “Who do you need us to beat up?”
“Nobody. Not yet.” Magistrate Di rubbed his forehead. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated. Now then, I’ll sign off whatever forms the guardsman needs me to sign, and then you’ll both be free. Prevent anyone from putting a knife in my back and live within the bounds of the emperor’s laws. I’ll make sure you’ll be paid for it, at least.”
They made for a very fine party, the imperial magistrate, the gap-toothed deputy, and the two recently-reformed thieves. A more foolish man would have turned up his nose, to be found in such company. Yet Magistrate Di remembered the words of Kongzi, when asked how he could stand the uncouthness of barbarians: “If a gentleman were to dwell among them, what uncouthness would there be?”[3]
At least the sun’s heat was finally starting to wane. The mugginess of the climate, though, hardly lifted, even as the day drew to a close. Still, it was not far to the building which had been set aside for his use.
Just as with the dinner, the building was not half bad. It had, to Magistrate Di’s eyes, a distinctly foreign feel, as if someone had taken a hint of barbarian thought into their lungs and breathed it all over the house. But that complaint was so intangible as to be nearly useless; he was sure it was just the bias of being in a new place. The building which was to be his headquarters was of competent construction in a grey stone, a courtyard enclosed by a low wall or fence. Someone had clearly been through and swept the whole place out before his arrival, so that there was no refuse piled up. And, conveniently, it was a building of more than sufficient size. There were enough rooms for his staff to take up residence within the main building, rather than have to find lodgings elsewhere in the neighborhood.
His staff! That was a wry thought. An old man and two pardoned criminals. But he had to start somewhere. And his rise, he was confident, would be all the more glorious from how far down the ladder he’d started. In Dongshan there was possibility, a chance for meteoric growth.
“What is that?” He pointed to the courtyard, where a structure could be faintly seen in the gathering gloom of nightfall.
“Aye,” Mr. Lu said, “one of the lads read about how a proper yamen is to be constructed, and he said we should put a gong out front, y’know? So if someone needs us they can give it a good whack and let us know they’re out here. Clever, that. I wonder who thought it up first.”
“Mm. That was good thinking. Tell whomever it was that they did a fine job.” He yawned. Right. He hadn’t slept much on the boat, either. “Okay, you lot, I’m going to find a place where I can lie down and sleep. Feel free to pick your own rooms, whichever are free. I’ll worry about the furnishings and everything in the morning.” And with that, he found himself the first room that looked vaguely like a bedroom, stretched out, and was asleep in minutes.
There might have been other people moving around a bit -- the members of his staff choosing their rooms, performing evening ablutions, and the like -- which did not stir Magistrate Di into wakefulness. In fact, he slept more or less peacefully until the thunderous crash of the gong outside jarred him from slumber.
“What the f-!” Leaping to his feet, he stormed from his room. Gao and Yang had already awoken, were in the hallway. Mr. Lu was only seconds later in showing up, and he’d had the good sense to bring a lantern.
Dammit. It was still dark out. Magistrate Di rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Well,” he said, trying not to sound too irritable, “let’s go see what emergency has disturbed my rest.” And with that, they filed out into the courtyard.
Footnotes
[1] 番葛, Hokkien word for jícama. I confess, I included this detail only because I heard of how, in certain other online communities dealing in historical (or alt-historical) fiction, there are running jokes about novice writers with shaky grasps of history who describe medieval Europeans eating dishes made from potato -- a remarkable achievement, seeing that potatoes originate from the New World and would not appear in Old World cuisine until after 1492. I wished to write a sort of tribute to that literary trope. Fortunately, as my timeline is set in the mid-1600s, there is every reason to believe the jícama has already made its way to Southeast Asia via Spanish trade, such that a socially prominent individual might have it served at a banquet.
[2] For the sake of verisimilitude and completeness, I will note that their names are rendered 高智鹰 and 楊沼宇, respectively. They are fictional characters, but they are intended to fill an archetypal role in this narrative.
[3] Analects 9.14
The dinner wasn’t half bad. Some unusual flavors and textures. The stir-fry included a crisp white vegetable, not unlike water chestnut but unfamiliar to him, which Mr. Lu identified as a fan-ge.[1] Magistrate Di ate sparingly, wishing to avoid digestive trouble. At least none of the food was obviously poisonous.
Before proceeding to his new offices -- he’d been assured that the building reserved for him was in good condition -- he had Mr. Lu inquire after any prisoners that the Admiral currently had jailed for minor offenses. They’d found a guardsman whose brow creased with puzzlement upon hearing their request. “Sure,” he’d said, “we have a few in custody, if you’d like to see them.” And he’d brought forth a couple of vagabondish-looking types.
Magistrate Di surveyed the prisoners. One was a bit taller, or maybe just carried himself a little more upright, had a lighter complexion and a small divot of flesh missing from his face just to the side of his left eye. The other one slouched beneath his mop of dark hair; Magistrate Di fancied his head was just a trifle too large.
“Your names?”
“I am called Gao Zhiying,” said the first one, and “Yang Zhaoyu,” said the second.[2]
“The Admiral, I expect, has had you detained for some crime,” Magistrate Di said. “What is it that he’s accused you of doing?”
“Well,” said Gao, “I think it’s more in the area of a disagreement.”
“Yeah,” said Yang, “we found some treasures that the Dutch had left behind, when they’d fled. And we were of the opinion that it should belong to the two of us, as the rightful finders.”
“And the Admiral disagreed,” said Gao. “He thought it should have been all his, and had us locked up after he took our stuff.”
Magistrate Di raised an eyebrow. “And you properly reported your discovery when you found it? You did not, I assume, stash the treasure away immediately in the hope that nobody would ever know?”
A brief silence.
“Very well,” Magistrate Di said. “If the Admiral has taken back what you found, I see no reason for further penalties. You will not be held responsible for holding back from the emperor’s taxes on your windfall, nor for annoying the emperor’s viceroy of Dongshan. From now on, the two of you will serve as my personal guards. You will be paid regularly so long as you stay out of trouble and do as I instruct.”
Gao rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That is a compelling offer. And if we ‘find’ any more treasures...?”
Magistrate Di gave him a level look. “The alternative is that I leave you to whatever questionably legal retribution the Admiral has in mind. Rest assured that when you are with me, I will protect you in exchange for your complete honesty in all things. Report to me anything and everything of interest. And resist the temptation to charge ‘extra fees’ to petitioners who wish to see me. I may approve certain measures to offset administrative costs, if you present the cause to me most eloquently, but the important thing is that you run everything by me first. I shall not tolerate arbitrariness in this district.”
Yang made a gesture of indifference. “Eh. I suppose that’s a real decent deal, all things considered. Gao, we might want to accept those terms.”
“I suppose we shall.”
“Right, then,” Yang said cheerfully. “Who do you need us to beat up?”
“Nobody. Not yet.” Magistrate Di rubbed his forehead. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated. Now then, I’ll sign off whatever forms the guardsman needs me to sign, and then you’ll both be free. Prevent anyone from putting a knife in my back and live within the bounds of the emperor’s laws. I’ll make sure you’ll be paid for it, at least.”
They made for a very fine party, the imperial magistrate, the gap-toothed deputy, and the two recently-reformed thieves. A more foolish man would have turned up his nose, to be found in such company. Yet Magistrate Di remembered the words of Kongzi, when asked how he could stand the uncouthness of barbarians: “If a gentleman were to dwell among them, what uncouthness would there be?”[3]
At least the sun’s heat was finally starting to wane. The mugginess of the climate, though, hardly lifted, even as the day drew to a close. Still, it was not far to the building which had been set aside for his use.
Just as with the dinner, the building was not half bad. It had, to Magistrate Di’s eyes, a distinctly foreign feel, as if someone had taken a hint of barbarian thought into their lungs and breathed it all over the house. But that complaint was so intangible as to be nearly useless; he was sure it was just the bias of being in a new place. The building which was to be his headquarters was of competent construction in a grey stone, a courtyard enclosed by a low wall or fence. Someone had clearly been through and swept the whole place out before his arrival, so that there was no refuse piled up. And, conveniently, it was a building of more than sufficient size. There were enough rooms for his staff to take up residence within the main building, rather than have to find lodgings elsewhere in the neighborhood.
His staff! That was a wry thought. An old man and two pardoned criminals. But he had to start somewhere. And his rise, he was confident, would be all the more glorious from how far down the ladder he’d started. In Dongshan there was possibility, a chance for meteoric growth.
“What is that?” He pointed to the courtyard, where a structure could be faintly seen in the gathering gloom of nightfall.
“Aye,” Mr. Lu said, “one of the lads read about how a proper yamen is to be constructed, and he said we should put a gong out front, y’know? So if someone needs us they can give it a good whack and let us know they’re out here. Clever, that. I wonder who thought it up first.”
“Mm. That was good thinking. Tell whomever it was that they did a fine job.” He yawned. Right. He hadn’t slept much on the boat, either. “Okay, you lot, I’m going to find a place where I can lie down and sleep. Feel free to pick your own rooms, whichever are free. I’ll worry about the furnishings and everything in the morning.” And with that, he found himself the first room that looked vaguely like a bedroom, stretched out, and was asleep in minutes.
There might have been other people moving around a bit -- the members of his staff choosing their rooms, performing evening ablutions, and the like -- which did not stir Magistrate Di into wakefulness. In fact, he slept more or less peacefully until the thunderous crash of the gong outside jarred him from slumber.
“What the f-!” Leaping to his feet, he stormed from his room. Gao and Yang had already awoken, were in the hallway. Mr. Lu was only seconds later in showing up, and he’d had the good sense to bring a lantern.
Dammit. It was still dark out. Magistrate Di rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Well,” he said, trying not to sound too irritable, “let’s go see what emergency has disturbed my rest.” And with that, they filed out into the courtyard.
Footnotes
[1] 番葛, Hokkien word for jícama. I confess, I included this detail only because I heard of how, in certain other online communities dealing in historical (or alt-historical) fiction, there are running jokes about novice writers with shaky grasps of history who describe medieval Europeans eating dishes made from potato -- a remarkable achievement, seeing that potatoes originate from the New World and would not appear in Old World cuisine until after 1492. I wished to write a sort of tribute to that literary trope. Fortunately, as my timeline is set in the mid-1600s, there is every reason to believe the jícama has already made its way to Southeast Asia via Spanish trade, such that a socially prominent individual might have it served at a banquet.
[2] For the sake of verisimilitude and completeness, I will note that their names are rendered 高智鹰 and 楊沼宇, respectively. They are fictional characters, but they are intended to fill an archetypal role in this narrative.
[3] Analects 9.14
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Cliffhanger, Yay!
I can resonate with Di as I too eat less when travelling or in a new place. Don't want to have an upset stomach in a plane or train.
I am strangely invested in Magistrate Di, and like to think that his memoirs become an important foundation of Chinese legal and crime fiction in this timeline.
The battle for prominence in Chinese culture between Magistrate Di and Justice Bao ITTL would be legendary.