So, the Prefect of Haizhou and the interpreter returned to the government office from the ship and quickly asked the admiral if he had approved the letter they sent. The interpreter said the admiral was initially unwilling, but only after a lot of persuading did he agree and promise to help them in the letter. The Prefect was over the moon upon hearing this. That night passed, and the next day, the Prefect and his team went to the seaside to give the admiral a send-off before returning. Xiao Changgui also took the boat back to the province.
The next day, Mei Yunren indeed submitted a report, detailing the whole incident and finally wrote: "We nabbed the big one, and all those who contributed are asking for rewards." The prefect got Mei Yunren's report and the admiral's letter on the same day, which was immediately translated. The main content of the letter was a thank you for the reception and gifts. He also said the Haizhou officials had been great to him, thanks to the governor. The prefect and the interpreter had asked for promotions, leaving the decision on their new positions up to the governor. Their names are attached for review. After reading the letter, the governor thought to himself: "Meimu in Haizhou really came through. Even if they hadn't caught the bandits, I'd still promote him – he deserves it. That makes things even simpler. These prefect and interpreter managed to get the admiral to write to me; they're pretty clever. I'll bring them to the provincial office." And that was that.
The next day, officials from the regional and prefectural governments came to see the Zhitai. The Zhitai showed them the report from Haizhou about the magistrate and interpreter asking foreigners for help. The Fan Si spoke first, saying, "These guys went to foreigners for help – real smooth operators, huh? But if this sets a precedent, in the future, those unscrupulous officials will come with foreign letters, either seeking positions or interceding. It'll be a right mess. In my opinion, Haizhou Mei's solving of the theft case should be heavily rewarded according to regulations. As for the magistrate, who only knows how to network and disregards shame, the top brass should decide—either remove his position or give him a good dressing down, so he can learn a lesson." Unexpectedly, the Zhitai did not agree at all, his face stern as he said, "Look, times are changing! The court is vigorously employing talents, should we still be hung up on this? According to what you said, when foreigners come, we drive them away, ignore them, even if you are a loyal minister? In the end, if they get mad and send their warships over, you can't stop them; you'll just have to pay up. In the end, you are still involved. Think about it, is it worth it? It's better to be safe than sorry. The ancients said it well: 'You can tell a lot about a person by watching them carefully.' These two individuals can seek foreign help; they've got good vision. I see potential in this; they will definitely become diplomatic talents in the future. With a shortage of talent in China now, we should be nurturing talent, not picking on them." The Fan Tai, seeing the Zhitai's response, although unhappy, just shut up and left.
The prefect of Haizhou and the translator were summoned to the provincial capital by the governor-general, upon receiving the letter from the foreigner. Thrilled, they packed their bags and hotfooted it to the provincial capital (Nanjing). Upon arrival in Nanjing, they met with the governor-general. The governor-general, surprisingly, was all smiles, arranged seats for them, and chatted with them for a long time, mostly praising their good judgment. "Don't worry about going back just yet; I've got jobs for you both." Upon hearing this, they quickly expressed their gratitude again. The next day, the governor-general arranged for the prefect of Haizhou to work at the Office of Foreign Affairs, also serving as a member of the manufactory. As for the translator, since he was originally a teacher at the Haizhou school, he was promoted to a teacher at the Nanjing Academy, also serving as a member of the Office of Foreign Affairs. With that settled, they were each assigned their new roles. The prefect of Haizhou's post was temporarily filled by another official. Mei Yunren, for solving the case, was rewarded by the court and summoned to Beijing. Upon his return, Xiao Changgui was also given special attention by the governor-general, transferred to another camp as a commander, and in command of naval vessels. That's a tale for another time.
So, the Haizhou prefect, newly appointed supervisor of the factory, hurried to visit the boss, his deputies, and the other guys, and took office at the factory. Guess who the general manager of this manufacturing plant is? This guy had just taken office not long ago. His surname is Fu, and his given name was Bowan. His father had been a customs official, a magistrate, and twice a provincial governor. Later, a governor arrived who he didn't get along with, and he figured he was well-off enough, so he faked a sickness and retired. Fu Bowan had an older brother who unfortunately died at the age of sixteen, so all the family property went to him. Everyone called him Fu Baimillion. In fact, his family wealth was only about half a million or so, and "Baimillion" was just a way of speaking. Because he was short and fat, wearing thick-soled boots, he was barely five feet tall when standing in front of people. Also, he was the second eldest in the family, so everyone gave him the nickname "Second Hammer Fu." Before Second Hammer Fu had even turned a month old, his father had donated a position as a magistrate to him, so everyone respectfully called him "born a magistrate." However, this was only known by a few friends who were present at the time, and no one mentioned it again later. Everyone just knew him as Second Hammer Fu.
Second Bro Fu used to rely on his family's wealth to live a comfortable life at home without any desire to become an official. He spent his days smoking opium. Fortunately, he received guidance from some clever old soul who told him that smokers only need to have a good appetite and be able to eat greasy food to avoid the smell of smoke on their faces. Since he had a big appetite, he ordered the kitchen to kill two ducks every day—one for lunch and one for dinner—and the leftover bones were used to make soup with noodles the next morning. Every day for 365 days, he ate like this, becoming chubby and looking completely different from other smokers. He smoked three times a day after breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with the smoking pipe ready, and could take more than thirty puffs in one go. His craving for smoking was strong, smoking at least 100 puffs a day, costing him at least five or six coins. After smoking, hot towels were prepared in advance, and several attendants took turns to wipe his face, ensuring that there was no smell of smoke on him. After wiping his face, he looked at himself in the mirror and said, "I am so rich, even if I spend one or two taels of silver a day (approximately X dollars), who can control me? Besides, our family, with its imperial connections, will eventually have to become officials. If my face is grimy, how can I manage my subordinates?" The old-timers, though, saw he had a bit of pride about him, even if he did love his pipe. They encouraged him to get out there and make something of himself. However, he did not want to casually become a minor official and just coast along. He found it uninteresting to follow others to the provincial capital. He always wanted to do something special, such as going abroad, engaging in business, or getting a recommendation from a governor or provincial official to become a remarkable figure. But why would anyone bother him in his comfy life?
I didn't expect the opportunity to fall into my lap. By chance, a guy his grandpa had pushed up the ladder, surnamed Wang, has now also become an advisor to some big shot ambassador sent to a certain country. This bigwig, surnamed Wen Mingguo, is a pencil-pusher from the Hanlin Academy. He writes well, but it's all just hot air; he knows nothing about practical affairs. Moreover, foreign civilizations are progressing rapidly, and the foreign books he reads are ten years out of date, ancient history compared to the current situation. However, he is unaware of this and thinks he’s trendy, parading around someone else's cast-offs. Fortunately, some old-timers haven't heard of these things. After hearing his comments, they thought he was a sharp cookie and recommended him to the emperor. In those days, the court just rubber-stamped whatever the bigwigs said, and there was never any evaluation. When there was a vacancy for a diplomatic envoy, the list was submitted, and as long as someone spoke well of the candidate, the approval was immediate. When the imperial edict arrived, the usual thank-you's and pleasantries were just routine. Even if the emperor summoned you and asked a few questions, it was just a bit of bowing and scraping. Think about it, no matter who you are, if you haven't left the capital for years and suddenly you're sent abroad, even if you were well-read, you'd be completely lost when it comes to handling matters.
Returning to the point, after Commissioner Wen took office, he went to visit influential officials to seek advice on handling affairs. Some ministers who were concerned about the situation recommended individuals who had been abroad and understood the matters at hand to serve as advisors or assistants to him. Others were just playing the game, recommending people to curry favor for future promotions. At this time, Wang Guancha, who had been promoted by Fu's father, had already been recommended to serve as an advisor to Commissioner Wen. Wen highly valued him. Wang Guancha remembered Fu Erbangchui, the son of Fu Fantai, who'd already expressed interest in a government position and contacted Wang. Even though Wang was capable, he was strapped for cash. Since he was going abroad, he needed to get himself kitted out and sort out his finances. Although the court would provide some money, it was never enough, so he had to find a way to make some money. He knew Fu was rolling in it and was just about to ask him for a loan when Fu Erbangchui wrote to ask for his help in finding a job. Wang Guancha seized the opportunity and strongly recommended Fu in front of Commissioner Wen, asking Wen to take him along. The commissioner agreed. Wang Guancha sent him a telegram, asking him to meet in Shanghai. After meeting in Shanghai, even though Fu came from a wealthy family, he was still green and relied on Wang for guidance on many matters. As a result, they got along famously, and Wang got his wish. The two of them went abroad with the commissioner. Wang Guancha was the chief advisor, and Fu Erbangchui was already a Dao Tai, so he was above menial tasks and unskilled at anything else. Wang Guancha gave him advice, suggesting he bribe the commissioner by calling him "teacher," and the commissioner set him up with a sinecure.
Before becoming an important official, Wen Qinchai worked as a minor bureaucrat in the capital, doing whatever it took to make ends meet. He had a wife and two girls at home. His wife often wore patched clothes. Life was tough, with no servants, so she did everything herself—cooking, laundry, and household chores. If anyone else had landed such a good gig, they would have started splashing out right away. However, Mrs. Wen was down-to-earth and never forgot her roots. Even as the big shot's wife, she still did all the housework and looked after the kids. Their friends couldn't stand it and urged Wen Qinchai to talk to his wife. Wen Qinchai replied, "Do you think I don't know we're loaded now? But sometimes you gotta remember what it was like when we were broke. Now we've got money, should we just blow it all? What if things get tough again? So I figure we keep saving like we used to, right?" Seeing his point, the envoy had no choice but to agree. He was used to it and didn't find it strange. Since Fu Erbangchui had become the envoy's student, he naturally went to visit the envoy's wife as well. She said, "You're our master's student, so don't be so formal with me. Besides, we're a long way from home, not many Chinese around, so we're all family here. If you need anything, just ask. Think of me as your aunt, don't be shy." Fu Erbangchui responded, "It's great to be looked after by you both." After some small talk, he took his leave.
This bunch of expats, from the imperial envoy to the entourage, was led by old Fu Erbangchui, a local big shot, who brought a small fortune! Although he didn't bring his family, he had three or four housekeepers with him. He was always changing his clothes, saying, "Foreigners are really fussy about being clean." In summer, he changed into two outfits a day, and in winter, he changed once a day. And those dirty clothes? Had to be washed. Unlike in China, washing clothes is expensive abroad; with Fu Erbangchui's laundry habits, that's two gold coins a day! That's a chunk of change!
Lucky guy, that envoy. Since arriving abroad, his wife had been washing the family's clothes. They rented a house for the embassy. Their embassy was a small, multi-story building right on the street. Foreigners had laundromats and places to hang their laundry. The envoy's wife washed the clothes, but there was no space inside to hang them, so she strung everything up outside the window—pants, shirts, socks, even footwraps and those square shoe pads. Blue, white, the whole shebang, flapping in the breeze like a crazy flag display. Some foreigners passing by couldn't understand and said, "What kind of crazy parade is the Chinese embassy having? Besides the dragon flag, there are a bunch of long and square flags, blue and white, in various shapes—what's with all this?"
The story spread like wildfire, and everyone thought it was nuts. The story was in the papers the next day. Luckily, the envoy didn't speak English, but he never bothered to get them translated. So, it was big news, but they were clueless and just went about their business.
When Fu Erbangchui first arrived in a foreign country, his clothes were washed a few times, and someone told the Minister's wife that Mr. Fu was loaded, spending a fortune on laundry every day. The Minister's wife scoffed, "If I had all that money, I'd never be so wasteful! Our master and young master change clothes once a month, and I might only change mine every two or three months. But he, he changes clothes every day! He doesn't seem to care how much he spends a month. At this rate, he'll be spending half his salary just on laundry! Go tell him to bring his clothes to me; I'll wash them for him. He spends two dollars a day; I only need one, so he can save some money and I can earn a little, after all, it's all physical work." So, word got back to Fu Erbangchui. He felt awkward about letting the Minister's wife wash his underwear and socks, so he kept delaying. Later, the Minister's wife didn't want to lose a customer, so she personally spoke to Fu Erbangchui. He had no choice but to agree, and from then on, he brought his clothes to the Minister's wife for washing. Things went smoothly for the first two months; Fu Erbangchui kept paying the full foreigner's rate, happy to keep the Minister's wife pleased.
One day, a famous foreigner invited the Chief Minister to a tea party. The Chief Minister naturally brought his counselor and translator. It was a huge, fancy affair, with at least two to three thousand people, a who's who of local bigwigs, wealthy merchants, and international dignitaries. Fu Erbangchui was all dressed up in his finest clothes, sporting his fancy feathered hat, and squeezed in with the crowd. But he was too short, standing behind the Chief Minister, trying to see by tiptoeing, but always blocked and unable to see anything. The crowd was so thick he couldn't move an inch, and he was getting frustrated, just pushing and shoving.
And there she was, a gorgeous foreigner, right next to him. Foreign women at these tea parties, no matter how rich, would wear floor-length gowns but would be bare-shouldered, practically naked. Fu Erbangchui, crammed next to her, bobbed and weaved to get a glimpse, his head swiveling like a crazy metronome. She felt something furry and cool brushing against her arm—a persistent, ticklish touch—and had no idea what it was. At these affairs, women always had a male escort. The escort would ask the lady beforehand, and if she said no, the host had to find someone else. Anyway, her escort was some big shot—a count, they said, and a government official. Luckily, this count had dealt with Chinese officials before and knew what it was: a "flower feather," like a medal, a reward only the Emperor could give. He didn't know you could buy a flower feather, bless his cotton socks! She stepped back, peered at it closely, even touched it, then whispered something to the count, and that was that. Fu Erbangchui spent hours trailing the envoy, stuck in the back, missing everything. The taller guys saw it all, but he saw nothing. He was furious and didn't leave the embassy for three days.
