The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 579: More progressive, gentler and fairer colonization!

The hall used by the True Agreement faction to hold a banquet for Wen Xian and others was ridiculously large, with kerosene lamps hanging everywhere, making the room very bright. Apparently, the kerosene was also scented, filling the room with a faint fragrance. In front of the hall, statues of Heavenly Brother Ji Du and Heavenly King Hong Xiuquan were enshrined side by side. Heavenly Brother Ji Du was strong and powerful, holding a 10-foot-long spear, while Heavenly King Hong Xiuquan held a True Agreement in one hand and a sword in the other.

There were dozens of servants and maids serving in the hall. There were more than ten people at the main table where Wen Xian and Wei Jun were sitting, and each of them had three or four little maids serving tea and wine.

However, Bai Siwen, Moore and Friedrich did not sit at the same table with Wen Xian and his group. They sat at the same table with the children. It was not because the True Covenant priest in charge looked down on them, but Moore and Friedrich took the initiative to sit at the same table with a group of Chinese teenagers. Children are generally more honest and easy to get the truth out of them. What surprised Moore and Friedrich even more was that two of the children at their table could speak fluent English. Now they didn't need Bai Siwen as an interpreter, and could talk to the two children directly.

The two children who could speak English both had the surname Xue, one was Xue Youren and the other Xue Youyi, they were about ten years old, looked very similar, had round faces, bright and lively eyes, wore exquisite Chinese robes, spoke politely, and were obviously from upper-class Chinese families in Singapore. Moore and Friedrich could speak some Mandarin now, so they mixed Chinese and English and quickly became familiar with the two children.

Xue Youren, who is older, picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and put it into the bowl. "Try it, sir. It's made with pork and pineapple produced by members of the Zhenyue Farmers' Association. It's sour and sweet, and delicious."

"Farmers' Association?" Moore put down his silver fork. Wei Jun's drunken laughter came from the other end of the hall, and several high-ranking True Covenant priests were taking turns to toast Wen Xian.

"The Johor Sultan distributed 50% of the royal land to the Zhenyue Farmers' Association last year," the young Xue Youyi said, "The Farmers' Association sent 500 brothers carrying foreign rifles to supervise the land distribution, which frightened the local king's guards so much that they didn't even dare to draw their bows and arrows."

The boy also took out a mimeographed booklet from his pocket and handed it to Moore. On the cover was the "Land System of the Celestial Empire: Revised Edition of Nanyang", with the following key points highlighted in red on the inside pages: "Each person is granted ten acres of land, regardless of gender or age", "Chinese and natives are treated equally", "Exemption from all feudal obligations", "Reduction of taxes and rents, abolition of unpaid labor", "Freedom of religious belief, freedom of marriage", etc.
When Moore took the booklet, he had learned a lot of Chinese characters from Bai Siwen in the past two years and could already understand the key points marked with red lines. He suddenly thought of the red flags on the barricades in Paris in 1848.

"What about the Malay farmers?" Friedrich tapped his pen on his notebook. "Can they really get a share of the land?"

Xue Youren took out a handkerchief to wipe the sauce off his brother's mouth. "You can get a share if you join the Farmers' Association. Chinese and Malays are treated equally, as we are all children of God. After the land is allocated, the Farmers' Association will also give them iron plows and seeds, and teach them how to grow rice and sugarcane. The Farmers' Association is also responsible for purchasing the rice and sugarcane produced. If they don't want to sell to the Farmers' Association, the Farmers' Association will not stop them from selling them to Singapore. As long as the farmers pay the dues, it will be fine."

Moore asked, "Membership dues? How much?"

"It's about 5% of the harvest," Xue Youyi said. "It's written in the Tianchao Tianmu System. Nanyang Revised Edition that the Sultan can collect another 5% tax, and the rest goes to the farmers. If the farmers in the farmers' association rent other people's land, the rent should not exceed 20% of the harvest, and including other taxes, it should not exceed 30%."

Moore asked again, "Don't they need to convert to the True Covenant Church? Can they just join the Farmers' Association?"

The Xue brothers were at a loss for an answer to this question. If the Zhenyue faction was so good and so helpful to everyone, they would run farmers' associations and schools. When someone bullied the Chinese, they would stand up for them. When there were fights, some of them had guns, and when there were lawsuits, they had foreign lawyers. It was really great, how could anyone not want to join?
At this time, a young woman of mixed race at the next table suddenly interrupted in English: "It's okay not to convert to the True Covenant Church. My family is a believer of the Anglican Church and my palm garden has also joined the True Covenant Farmers' Association."

"Plantation?" Friedrich asked with interest, "Can plantation owners also join the farmers' union? Aren't you worried that the True Covenantists will distribute your land to the poor?"

The young woman was surprised: "Divide our land? Why? We purchased our land legally and it fully complies with the regulations of the Farmers' Association."

"It complies with the regulations of the Farmers' Association?" Moore asked. "The Farmers' Association allows farmers to buy large amounts of land?"

"Why not?" The young woman was very surprised by Moore and Friedrich's question. "Everyone is buying it!"

"Everyone?" Friedrich's interest grew. "Who is everyone?"

The young woman was unable to answer for a moment, but Bai Siwen, who had been silent, said leisurely: "Of course, they are mainly hardworking Chinese and foreigners with capital. In any case, they can't be Malays."

The young woman thought about it carefully and nodded: "It seems to be true. The Malays are too lazy and don't know how to manage. They don't know how to cherish the land allocated to them. When they are short of money, they sell it at a very low price. There are also many sultans and nobles who have lost half of their land and can't impose heavy taxes on the people below. In order to maintain expenses, they have to sell land."

Bai Siwen said in a barely audible voice: "This is all calculated. The Malay farmers who lost their land could not get the protection of the farmers' association. Because the land was divided up by the royal family and the nobles, they dared not return to the royal family and the nobles to be serfs. So they could only join the Zhenyue sect and become hired workers or thugs for the Chinese and foreign farms!"

The young woman glared at Bai Siwen fiercely: "Don't talk nonsense, be careful that Archbishop Wei will find out and have someone tear your mouth apart!" Bai Siwen chuckled: "What's the matter? The calculations of the Real Yorkists are very good and progressive! Moore, Friedrich, what do you think?"

Moore and Friedrich looked at each other, and for a moment they both had the same feeling: the True Contractists in the Nanyang region were a group of bourgeois revolutionaries and colonizers in ghost cloaks and divine robes! Their methods were more sophisticated and gentle than those of the European colonizers, and they seemed fairer, with a kind of wisdom from ancient Asian civilization. But colonization is colonization after all, can it really be done without guns and bayonets?

There was a sound of slamming the table in the middle of the hall, followed by Wei Jun speaking Chinese with a thick Hakka accent: "Judas is my brother, the Queen is my sister, who are those shitty sultans? If they dare to incite the Malays to attack the territory of the Zhenyue Farmers' Association, I will immediately dispatch troops from Lan Fang to kill them all. No one will be spared!"

Back at the hotel where he was staying, Moore wrote furiously in his Red Star Over China: "When the ancient and huge races in the East mastered Western capitalism, they would inevitably do the same thing as the so-called advanced civilizations in the West. Although they are more sophisticated, gentler, and seemingly fair, their essence is the same. This is determined by the nature of capitalism!"

In the True Testament Church on the corner of Broadway in New York, incense smoke curled up, and the colorful window painting of Hong Xiuquan capturing Emperor Xianfeng and ascending to heaven was illuminated by the gas lamps, making it look extremely magical. The "escaped from heaven" Emperor Xianfeng straightened his bishop's red robe and spoke fluent English: "May the Heavenly Father bless you, and the Heavenly King bless you, Brother O'Connor and Brother Davis."

Senator Jefferson Davis took off his beaver hat, revealing his gray beard trimmed into sharp lines. This tall, thin man from Mississippi seemed like a sharp bayonet that could stab someone in the chest at any time. He didn't want to come to New York to meet this Chinese charlatan, but he did it for the sake of Senator Jamie O'Connor, who kept dozens of Japanese chicks in his mansion on Long Island, New York.
Davis glanced at the New Testament and the True Testament placed side by side on the altar and said, "Father Zhao, I heard you can tell fortunes?"

"It's the Father and the King of Heaven who are spreading the word." Zhao Si placed an incense burner with three incense sticks on the coffee table between him and Davis. "Mr. Davis, what do you want to ask?"

"Ask about your fortune!" The Irish senator at the side laughed, "He's very good. It was under his guidance that I was able to dig up gold on the West Coast."

"Okay then," Senator Davis said, but he was thinking about the Japanese chick in Long Island.

Xianfeng on the other side suddenly convulsed violently. He knocked over the incense burner, and the ashes scattered all over the floor. His eyes suddenly rolled up, and the voice that came out of his mouth suddenly became shrill: "The iron horse of heaven needs to drink black blood. There is a black river of gold under the pine forest of Titusville, Pennsylvania."

O'Connor bowed quickly, but Davis leaned forward. He had seen the Alabama mediums bewitched by the black slaves' poison, but the white foam from the yellow-skinned priest's mouth was tinged with blood - too realistic.

"I am the little prince of Heavenly Father. Now I am sending a message to Brother Davis, who is destined to accomplish great things!" Xianfeng's voice became sharper and sharper. "When the liquid black gold of Titusville gushes, Brother Davis' money will be enough to equip 100,000 Heavenly Soldiers."

Davis frowned. "Liquid black gold. What is that?"

Xianfeng tilted his head and said: "You call it oil."

"Oil?" Senator Davis was surprised. "Is there really oil there?"

Xianfeng looked at the future president of the South and said, "If you don't believe me, I can have my servants contribute all the capital and use your name to buy the land in Titusville. The True Contract Party only wants 30% of the profit!"

"Only 30%?" Davis was a little unconvinced. "Are you kidding me?"

Xianfeng still said in a sharp voice: "You need to grab wealth from oil to complete the great cause given to you by God!"

"My great cause?" Davis looked at Xianfeng. "What is that?"

Xianfeng said: "You will know in three years." Then he yawned and said, "I am going back to heaven."

(End of this chapter)