Chapter Five

Lin Feng stood in the living room, staring blankly at the guest for a long time before hesitantly asking, “You… could it be that you are Mr. Chen Jinnan?!”

The old man opposite him looked exceedingly unremarkable—his face was lined with sorrowful wrinkles, and the few strands of gray hair on his head could almost be counted individually. He was short and frail, as if a gust of wind could blow him away, dressed in the typical garb of the working class. At a glance, he looked just like Old Wang who sold roasted sweet potatoes at the street corner. This appearance startled Lin Feng so much that he rudely stared for quite a while.

“I am Chen Yonghua, Chief Administrator of Dongning and subordinate to the Prince of Yanping of Great Ming. I greet General Lin!” The old man’s eyes flashed with a trace of humor as he cupped his hands in greeting. Despite his unimpressive appearance, his conduct was neither servile nor overbearing.

Lin Feng swallowed hard, probing, “Then… who is Mr. Chen Jinnan?!”

“Heh, that is the name I use when traveling the martial world. My apologies for the confusion, General.”

It was truly unbelievable—so this was Chen Jinnan? Wasn’t he supposed to be elegant and refined, a man of charm? They say if one has not met Chen Jinnan in life, he cannot be called a true hero. In Lin Feng’s imagination, even if he wasn’t a dashing figure, he should at least have some character to his looks. Yet, however Lin Feng looked at him, he seemed more like a background extra. His spirits sank, and he waved his hand in disappointment, “Well then… please, Mr. Chen, have a seat.”

Chen Jinnan bowed deeply. “General Lin, you led the righteous army and wiped out the Tartar leaders in one stroke, avenging millions of Han people and bringing hope for the Ming’s restoration. On behalf of the people, I thank you!”

“Oh?” Lin Feng scratched his head, puzzled. “Avenging the Han people, fine, but the Ming’s restoration… I’m not sure what that has to do with me?—Uh, Mr. Chen, there’s no need for all these bows and hand gestures. Aren’t you tired at your age? Sit, please, let’s talk sitting down.”

“Who says opposing the Qing means one must restore the Ming? That seems to be only the Heaven and Earth Society’s way, isn’t it?” Lin Feng asked curiously. “Those Ming emperors brought the people so much suffering. Really, the commoners should be hunting down the Zhu family, not helping them. If they couldn’t defend their own throne and let the Tartars in to slaughter so many Han, why should anyone now support them to ‘restore the Ming’? I wonder if those Zhus have any shame left.” He glanced at Chen Jinnan, scoffing. “Mr. Chen, if your mind is rusted, that’s your business—but why drag others down with you?”

Chen Jinnan was so incensed he trembled all over, nearly storming out. Lin Feng, unperturbed, turned to Yang Haisheng and asked, “Haisheng, isn’t there a Yang Qilong as well? Where is he?”

Yang Haisheng cast an apologetic look at Chen Jinnan and stood to reply, “My lord, there seems to be some friction between Mr. Yang Qilong and Mr. Chen over matters like ‘supporting the Tang’ or ‘the Crown Prince.’ Mr. Yang refused to enter together and is having tea in a side hall.”

Lin Feng understood—yet another internal squabble. He looked up at Chen Jinnan, who had regained his composure. Their eyes met, and Chen Jinnan said in a deep voice, “Since General does not wish to follow the Ming’s legitimate line, I will not press further. Still, I hope your army may ally with ours to resist the Qing together.”

Lin Feng found this a little odd. At this time, the Zheng family should have been contending with Geng Jingzhong and Shang Zhixin, and even if they got past them, Wu Sangui and Prince Kang were still to be reckoned with—how did they have energy to spare for the north? He asked, puzzled, “An alliance? I don’t see much benefit for either of us.”

Chen Jinnan flushed slightly and replied in a low voice, “To be frank, the Tartars in the northern provinces have gone mad lately, and our Heaven and Earth Society’s branches have suffered heavy losses up here. I hope the General, for the sake of our shared anti-Qing cause, might look after us.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Lin Feng chuckled. “An alliance is a big matter; can you, as a mere Chief Administrator, make such decisions?”

“Rest assured, General. I still have some sway with Prince Zheng, and this matter benefits both sides without harm; the Prince will certainly agree. As for advantages… if you consent, our brothers in the north would be willing to provide you with military intelligence.”

Intelligence cooperation seemed quite appealing. Lin Feng pondered for a long time and decided there was little to lose. He laughed heartily, thumping his chest with righteous flair. “Don’t be offended, Mr. Chen, I was only joking just now. Among men of the martial world, loyalty is everything. Rest assured: as long as your Heaven and Earth Society brothers are in my territory, I guarantee their safety!”

With that, the conversation seemed to reach its natural end—the first diplomatic contact between the Han army and the Zheng family’s forces from Taiwan thus concluded. In truth, Chen Jinnan had no official diplomatic mission this time; it was more of a chance, exploratory contact. Although Lin Feng’s attitude toward the Ming was not especially friendly, the results were satisfactory enough, giving Taiwan’s intelligence network on the mainland a legitimate foothold.

In fact, without Zheng Jing’s explicit approval, Chen Jinnan had no authority to negotiate further. Lin Feng’s forces were still a new power, their survival uncertain amidst hostile encirclement—much remained to be seen. Still, as long as they shared an anti-Qing stance, Chen Jinnan was willing to provide intelligence support, for any disruption in the heartland would sap the Qing’s strength, benefiting the Zheng family’s designs on the mainland.

After seeing Chen Jinnan off, Lin Feng immediately received Yang Qilong.

Compared to the unremarkable Chen Jinnan, Yang Qilong was much more impressive—fair-skinned, handsome, every gesture full of refinement, his mild smile exuded an air of elegance that made a strong first impression.

The only flaw was his apparent lack of respect for Lin Feng. He did not bow or salute but merely nodded slightly as a token greeting.

Lin Feng found this amusing. According to Yang Haisheng’s reports, this fellow was only the head of the Four Lords Society—a well-known but, in terms of status, far inferior to a regional commander like Lin Feng. Yet, seeing his arrogant demeanor, Lin Feng said nothing, though his bodyguards couldn’t help but snort in unison.

With a crisp snap, Yang Qilong flicked open his folding fan and sat down heavily in a chair, chuckling, “General Lin, can you not control your subordinates?”

“Not bad, not bad.” Amused by his pretentious airs, Lin Feng couldn’t help laughing out loud. He ignored the jibe and turned to his guards. “Don’t just stand there—someone, serve Mr. Yang some tea!”

After some polite small talk, Lin Feng, having learned from experience, resolved not to broach any substantive matters first. Yang Qilong tried several times to steer the conversation, but Lin Feng always deflected, and after four rounds of tea, Yang Qilong finally lost patience and spoke up, “General Lin, you truly are a bold and open-hearted man. I have been here so long yet you haven’t asked my purpose!”

“Bold? I wouldn’t dare claim that. I’m just hospitable. Whatever you wish to say, say it; if not, I won’t press you. For now, let’s drink tea. When it’s time, we’ll eat. If you wish to stay the night, I’ll have rooms prepared; if you want a young lady’s company, I’ll send for one at once. I’ve never treated friends from the martial world poorly.” Lin Feng picked up his cup and took a slow sip, speaking leisurely.

Yang Qilong was taken aback—he hadn’t expected Lin Feng to speak so. This was nothing like a general, more like a street ruffian. He forced a bitter smile, put away his fan, and solemnly stood up. “Since you are so forthright, I’ll speak plainly.” He stood tall. “Yang Qilong is but an alias I use in the martial world. My true name is Zhu—Ci—Jiong!” Each syllable landed with weight.

“Oh?” Lin Feng raised his brows, then laughed heartily. “So it’s Mr. Zhu. Delighted to meet you—do let me know what you’d like for supper; I’ll have the kitchen prepare it.”

Yang Qilong was stunned, blood rushing to his face until it turned purple. After a long moment, he managed to steady himself and said slowly, “I am the Third Prince Zhu!”

Lin Feng frowned, puzzled. “Third Prince Zhu? Who’s that?”

“The Ming… the Ming Emperor Chongzhen’s Crown Prince!” Zhu tried his best to keep his anger in check, making his voice calm.

“Ah—! What an… honor!” Lin Feng exclaimed, then reassured him. “Don’t worry; here in Beijing, no one would dare lay a hand on you.”

“General Lin, may I ask if you hold loyalty to the Ming?” By now, even if Zhu were slow-witted, he could see Lin Feng was toying with him, but since the matter was out in the open, there was little point in dissembling.

“Mr. Zhu, I suppose you’re here to persuade me to serve the Ming? Mr. Chen Jinnan just tried the same. But at least he’s got territory and troops; joining him might make sense—certainly more than following you.”

“They? Usurpers and traitors—not to be compared with me!” Zhu slammed the table in anger.

Lin Feng merely smiled in silence. This man seemed half-mad—these days, strength was what counted, and a titleless prince might fool the gullible, but to try his luck with Lin Feng was another matter.

“General Lin, let me be frank. Since the late emperor’s death, I have lived among the people, founded the Four Lords Society, and after years of toil, by the ancestors’ blessing, now command a million followers across Henan, Shanxi, Hebei, and Shandong—loyal men beyond counting. With but a single call…”

“Ahem—didn’t you already call once?” Lin Feng interrupted. “Not long ago, didn’t you rally the loyalists in the capital and try to storm the palace? But weren’t you driven off by a few eunuchs and palace maids?”

“Indeed, my lord is correct!” Yang Haisheng leapt up, indignant. “Whatever we do, we’ll do ourselves; no one is going to take advantage of us!” The guards in the hall, fired up, nodded in agreement.

Zhu could contain himself no longer and stood up angrily. Though he had expected this answer, he did not think Lin Feng would speak so bluntly, leaving him no face. He glared at Lin Feng for a long time, then gritted out, “Hmph, I thought you, General, were a man of loyalty, letting your hair grow and changing your garb. But it seems you too are ambitious and self-serving…”

With a sharp sound, several of Lin Feng’s guards drew their sabers, glaring at Zhu. Lin Feng remained unmoved in his chair and waved his hand lightly. “Relax, put your weapons away—no need to get worked up over words. If word gets out that we draw blades over mere talk, it’ll ruin my reputation!” He turned a genial face to Zhu. “Come now, old Yang, you’ve been in the martial world so long—why so hotheaded? Always saying things so tasteless! Sit, sit, let’s talk calmly.”

Seeing Lin Feng so unruffled, Zhu was momentarily taken aback, then sat again and sneered, “Since the General will not aid the Ming, as they say, ‘our paths diverge, so our aims do not align.’ What more is there to discuss?”

“How can you say that? Though I won’t serve the Ming, aren’t we both fighting the Tartars now? We share an enemy—surely there’s room for cooperation!” Lin Feng grinned, waving his hand so that, other than Li Ergou, all the attendants and guards withdrew. “Brother Yang, your dream of restoring the Ming is grand—I admire your ambition. But let me offer you some frank advice: reclaiming a kingdom is best done by one’s own efforts, not by leaning on others. Your ancestor Zhu Yuanzhang carved out a two-century dynasty by sword and blood, not by picking fruit others had planted.”

Zhu frowned; the words were harsh and hard to hear, but this time he swallowed his pride and said, “You are right, General. Just now… I was rash.”

“Then let me explain the larger situation,” Lin Feng said, rising and turning to Yang Haisheng and Li Ergou. “You two keep watch outside—clear away idlers. I have some business to discuss with Mr. Yang.”

Seeing Lin Feng’s gravity, Zhu perked up. When the others had left, Lin Feng began, “You’ve seen it yourself: the Tartar emperor and central court have both been destroyed by me. The northern provinces are in chaos. You claim a million followers—surely you don’t need me to tell you what to do?”

Zhu thought a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “To be honest, the Four Lords Society’s uprising is imminent! I came to see you precisely to discuss great plans.”

“Is that so? To be frank, I already knew what you wanted. Let me be clear: if you intend to recruit in Beijing, on my territory, I will absolutely not allow it,” Lin Feng said with a smile. “If you insist, don’t blame me for fratricide.”

Zhu glared at him, but Lin Feng met his gaze coldly, unflinching. After a long silence, Zhu averted his eyes and bowed dejectedly. “Then… I ask for your guidance, General.”

“I know you’ve laid deep roots in Beijing—perhaps even in my own forces. But as the saying goes, fate has played its hand, and I’ve seized the moment. Nothing for it!” Lin Feng smiled. “I’m being open with you because I don’t want Han people fighting each other and letting the Tartars laugh.”

Zhu forced a bitter smile. “What else can I do if you forbid my uprising here?”

“How can there be no way? Doesn’t your society have branches in all the northern provinces? Why does it matter if you don’t rise in Beijing? Go to Shanxi, Henan, Shandong—right now, the Tartar viceroys are all in disarray. I’m drawing all their attention here. Isn’t that a better opportunity?”

Zhu frowned. “But… the capital region is not only rich in arms but also in supplies. Elsewhere… to be honest, though we have some funds, we lack weapons and armor.”

“Haha, so you’ve had your eye on Beijing’s armories!” Lin Feng laughed heartily and waved expansively. “If you’ll do me the favor of not rising in Beijing, I’ll reciprocate: fifty thousand taels of silver and five thousand sets of armor and weapons—how’s that?”

Zhu started, swallowing hard. Silver was one thing, but the weapons were priceless. He rose and bowed deeply, grateful. “Thank you, General! If I ever succeed, I will never forget your generosity!”

Seeing Lin Feng say nothing, Zhu hesitated, then ventured, “I’ve heard… you have many cannons and firearms…”

Lin Feng frowned—this man was insatiable. “Cannons are not like swords and armor—not so easily transported. When you’ve succeeded and have a base, come see me. But I won’t give them for free; you’ll need to pay in silver.”

Zhu was a bit disappointed but took heart at Lin Feng’s openness. “Agreed!—In your view, General, which of the northern provinces is best for an uprising?”

Lin Feng pondered and replied slowly, “Since the Three Feudatories rebelled, the Kangxi court has had to raise war funds, and harsh policies have long plagued the north. You know, after the Eight Banners seized the land, refugees filled the region. The people are destitute—there’s nowhere you couldn’t raise a rebellion.” Seeing Zhu’s disappointment, Lin Feng smiled. “I wager it’s only gotten worse. With my attack on Beijing, the provinces are surely terrified and must prepare for war—preparing for war means squeezing the people even more, which only breeds more rebellion. Just wait, within a few months, chaos will erupt.”

Zhu’s spirits soared. He applauded. “General, your insight is brilliant!”

“I dare not claim brilliance, Mr. Yang. If the Four Lords Society truly means to rise, I suggest you do it in Henan. The Yellow River floods, disasters are frequent, the people are already suffering. If harsh policies are imposed, they’ll respond more readily than elsewhere.”

Zhu was taken aback and eyed Lin Feng with suspicion. “Why do you say so, General? Henan is a land surrounded on all sides—won’t it be hard to hold?”

Lin Feng smirked. “Are you muddle-headed? You’re not rising to carve a kingdom, but to restore the Ming. Henan may be surrounded, but isn’t Beijing the same? See how I’m beset on all sides—Shanhai Pass to the north, the Viceroy of Zhili to the south, Tianjin nearby threatening my throat. Yet I believe I can attack Liaodong to the north, move south to Baoding and Shandong. Henan is no different—it’s all a matter of determination. If your ambition is true, prove it!”

These words struck Zhu like a revelation. He bowed to the ground, moved. “General, you are right. If I take Henan, I can reach Shanxi and Shaanxi as well. Your counsel is invaluable!”

He straightened, full of spirit. “With you supporting in the north and me in the south, our great cause will succeed!”