Chapter 1022: The World Is a Kaleidoscope (4)

While Qing was turning it over in her head, the Shanghai County Magistrate made a troubled face, practically cringing as he spoke.

“My good man. Matters regarding sales permits are not under my authority. Do you understand? That means I cannot raise or lower them at will, nor decide who sells more and who sells less. Even so! Yes, yes, I will repay you somehow—yes, you seemed to be looking closely at that porcelain last time, no, better yet, you may take all of it if you like, just the physician, somehow...”

“[What’s he saying?]”

“[He says he has no authority over trade volume. But he says he can offer as much of his personal property as he likes.]”

“[How does that make any sense? Isn’t this monkey the mayor of the city? How can a mayor not have trade authority?]”

In this era, the Netherlands was a commercial republic, an age when a merchant’s wealth and income were his political power.

Of course, one governor effectively held the governorship of every city in the Netherlands, and it could even be inherited, so it was not much different from a monarchy.

Even so, it was still a quasi-monarchy that claimed the merchant council—that is, parliament—held the right to replace the governor.

That was why the power of merchants was immense, and only the greatest of merchants could become the head of a city and serve as mayor, devoting themselves solely to commercial growth and attracting wealth for the prosperity of the entire city.

So by Dutch common sense, this was utterly incomprehensible.

What do you mean, he has no authority?

Then what exactly does a mayor do?

What, does a mayor concern himself with lowly things like administration?

If Qing had heard those inner thoughts, she would have shot back asking what in the world a mayor did if not handle administration.

Unfortunately, while Qing’s automatic translation let her understand speech, it did not let her eavesdrop on people’s inner thoughts.

“Is no trade authority truly the truth? Can you swear it?”

“How could a mere official trespass upon what the Son of Heaven has decreed? Very well, I shall submit a memorial to the Forbidden City and make a recommendation. How about that?”

At that, the missionary started rattling away with the sailor again.

“[He says his Heaven-Son—that is, the Emperor—decided it, so he can’t do anything.]”

“[Does that emperor have some kind of grudge against us? Why is he coddling only those pig bastards?]”

“[Hmm.]”

“Pig bastards” was one of the Dutch’s most representative slurs and insults for the Portuguese.

At that, the missionary stroked his chin as though something had occurred to him, then opened his mouth.

“[Then how about this? The Central Plains are a place where the Emperor’s power is absolute, so we won’t get a result by pressuring this man right now. So instead of trade, how about asking him to let us build a church? If we spread the Bible widely, then the people of the Central Plains, as fellow believers, will eventually open their hearts.]”

“[That sounds like pig-cock-sucking bullshit—khm, my apologies. That insult wasn’t directed at you, Pastor, it just slipped out. I’ve spent too long working with sailors, so it’s stuck in my mouth...]”

“[Tsk, tsk. The Lord said that for a rich man to enter His kingdom is harder than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle. So instead of chasing wealth that will vanish anyway, you ought to think about spreading His absolute word. Why do you pursue only worldly riches?]”

“[Didn’t we build the church you’re planting right now for you? And if this keeps up and the Eastern boom really ends, we may simply wind down this business on this side entirely. Then you would be in a difficult position too, wouldn’t you? Besides, if this matter goes well, we would of course help your missionary church as well.]”

“[But didn’t he say he had no authority?]”

“[Pastor, what does authority matter? The Emperor is far away and this man is near at hand, so if we were to set up one unofficial trading post just outside the city gate, who would know? If it were done without the mayor knowing, then no one in the world would know about it.]”

“[Are you telling me to recommend corruption?]”

“[You wouldn’t be recommending corruption, Pastor. You’d merely be relaying the words of an unrighteous merchant like me, blinded by gold coins. You still need to keep planting churches, don’t you?]”

“[Khm.]”

At that, the missionary let out an embarrassed little cough.

Because in this world, no religion whatsoever was ever truly free of money.

God might provide spiritual nourishment, but He did not personally provide food, clothing, and shelter.

“[Now then, please interpret it like this. So...]”

The pastor haltingly conveyed the sailor’s words in his characteristic accent.

Let our company build just one warehouse outside the city walls.

Of course, if that happened, it was obvious that Central Plains merchants hoping to sell goods in secret would come flocking in, but we had no interest in such smuggling.

And if we chased those merchants away, what problem would that cause? Who would stupidly go around blabbing that they had attempted smuggling and then been driven off?

Still, we would have to pay some warehouse-use fee, but aren’t we practically family? We would reward him generously.

And on top of that, we would report those lawless men who attempted smuggling, so he could collect fines from them as well.

In other words, it meant this:

Let’s open a smuggling route.

Once smuggling began, everyone involved would be accomplices anyway, so they would all keep their mouths shut and preserve the secret.

We’d be happy because we could buy, and you’d be happy because instead of taxes you could pocket bribe money, so wasn’t it good for everyone?

At that, the face of the Gold-Worshiping Divine Physician, who had been listening right alongside them, went completely white.

“W-what, what, what kind of nonsense is this! Absurd! Impossible! No! How can you say something so treasonous! No! Absolutely not!”

For some reason he kept darting glances at Qing while bellowing at the top of his lungs, a true lion’s roar.

Well, how could the blood not drain from his face when they were sitting there talking so openly about smuggling and skimming tax money right in front of imperial royalty?

Just hearing such words could make one party to treasonous plotting.

“Th-that, ma—no, Heavenly Flower Sword! I do not agree with such words in the slightest! How dare these lawless Western bastards! Magistrate! Isn’t that so?”

“Uh, well, but my son...”

Watching the magistrate falter, the Gold-Worshiping Divine Physician pounded his own chest furiously.

You lunatic bastard! So here really was someone sticking his head into a tiger’s jaws and yanking its whiskers right in front of him!

“Y-you fool! Is that what matters right now? Is that what matters? Ah—th-this one will give that fellow a proper scolding, but while I understand the feelings of a father whose child is sick, what is wrong is still wrong, isn’t it. Exactly!”

At that, the magistrate felt a little wronged.

This old man, notorious for loving money, was the very same one who strutted around openly saying even the imperial physicians of the Forbidden City were beneath him, so why was he suddenly possessed by the spirit of history’s most loyal minister and jumping up and down?

“B-but my family line is on the verge of ending, and afterward I will voluntarily submit myself for punishment, so for now if we could first ask the physician—”

“Ah-ah! Ah! No such thing! I absolutely! Absolutely! Absolutely! Absolutely refuse to agree! That is the sort of thing that invites heavenly punishment! I oppose it! I oppose it!”

The Gold-Worshiping Divine Physician shouted with desperate intensity.

Because no matter how arrogant a man might be, if imperial royalty was standing right in front of him, then he had no choice but to become a loyal subject on the spot.

In the middle of that, Qing quietly spoke up.

“Mm. Um, Pastor? Why are you telling someone who serves the state to break the law—mm, no, to do something bad?”

“Khm. Khm, I am only interpreting.”

“And I understand how you feel about your son, Magistrate, but someone in office cannot break the law of the state for private affection. Still, since the lifeline of your family is also not something one can call unimportant, mm, let’s do this.”

“H-how do you mean?”

“Even if the ‘illness’ ‘relapses,’ as long as ‘I’m’ here, it can be ‘treated’ immediately, so I’ll ‘remain here and keep looking after him.’ Or at least until an heir is born to carry on your family line.”

Qing pronounced certain words with emphatic force, as though for someone’s benefit.

Except?

“Good heavens...! Benefactor! No, this will not do—instead, this Jo will serve our benefactor as a foster mother for the rest of my life! Please accept a great bow from your godson! Ryung, what are you doing! Hurry and offer a great bow to your foster grandmother!”

At that, Qing immediately recoiled in horror and grabbed hold of the magistrate, who looked ready to throw himself to the floor at any moment.

No, her family line was already enough of a disaster as it was. What did he mean, godson?

“No, damn it, forget it, okay? What do you mean godson? Sir, help stop him, will you?”

“Ah, yes! Ahem, man, there’s a guest here, what kind of spectacle is this—no, not a spectacle, of course such respect is natural, but still, calm yourself first, will you?”

The expression on the Dutch sailor’s face turned strange as he watched the magistrate leap up to perform a great bow and the other two trying to stop him.

Well, the missionary at least understood the language, but from the sailor’s perspective a bunch of monkeys making bizarre noises that barely sounded like speech had suddenly clustered together, and he had no idea what in the world was happening.

“[Pastor? Why are those monkeys losing their minds? What’s happening?]”

“[That veiled lady says she can treat your, ah, mm, that, well, the sickness. She says she’ll remain here and treat it whenever it flares up until he recovers, so the mayor says he wants to serve the lady as his mother. She seems not to want that, so they’re stopping him. In this East, there is a custom of serving the person one respects most as one’s father or mother.]”

“[What kind of unfilial custom is that—no, wait, that woman can treat it? Are you sure?]”

“[Well, the mayor’s son there looks perfectly fine, so.]”

“[Hmm, so that whore did it.]”

At that, Qing, who had been trying to restrain the magistrate, pulled a fierce face.

No, that bastard really did have a curse word hanging permanently from his lips, didn’t he?

Anyway, it seemed to have gotten across.

If witches really did exist, and if that witch had been pulling tricks through Jo Ryung’s illness—

Then the most troublesome person for her would naturally be the physician who could treat it.

From the sound of it, this whole Eastern craze or whatever was urgent enough, so she probably would not try to drag things into a contest of patience by repeatedly making the illness relapse with a who-blinks-first attitude.

Given the nature of bad people, surely she would choose the easiest method—the method of removing the obstacle.

If that meant trying an assassination or something of the sort, then Qing could just storm in immediately and wreck the place.

Or what if she changed the target of the illness to Qing instead?

Then that would be great for her. She would not even need to stay stuck here. Wouldn’t it just mean her True Qi filled up periodically?

That would be the very definition of enjoying it infinitely.

Still, mm.

Qing’s gaze turned toward the missionary.

As far as those long-nosed foreigners’ religion went, Qing, if forced to classify it, was on the dislike side.

Still, he had blue numbers over his head—a man who had accumulated good karma.

Perhaps that was why, because he was someone who had come all the way to a distant land on the strength of his religious convictions.

All this time he had worn a stiff expression and made it painfully obvious that he disliked this whole business, but the air around him was still one of, I need money, so there’s no helping it.

And from the sound of their conversation, this sailor fellow also used formal speech toward the missionary, but neither his tone nor his sentence endings contained any actual respect.

Qing had money now too. A lot of money.

The Priestess Order Temple was rich now, and as the hidden power behind the Seol Family Trading House and the Taecheong Merchant House she also had plenty of money, though she herself did not know that, and as imperial royalty she could draw in as much money as she wanted if she chose.

So she could always make an extremely generous donation and inquire a bit about witches.

But she had her doubts about whether it was really right to unleash Jesus-freaks across the Central Plains, so for now she shelved that thought.

In any case, it looked like she had cast the fishing line well enough.

Whether anything would bite, though, remained to be seen.