Beiyang Dream

Chapter 23 Chang Desheng: Have I finally found my people?

September 11, 1889, 2:30 p.m. Berlin, outside the waiting room in the west wing of Sanssouci Palace.

Fukushima Yasumasa and Tojo Hidenori, one by the left window and the other by the right, were pretending to admire the scenery. However, their eyes were fixed on the staircase leading to the second floor in the center of the hall, as if nailed to it.

The stairs were covered with a red carpet, and a guard stood motionless every five or six steps.

The German Emperor was on the second floor.

Chang Desheng, that kid, is also on the second floor.

Tojo Hideaki pulled a pocket watch from his pocket, clicked open the cover, stared at the dial for three seconds, then clicked it shut and put it back in his pocket. He turned his head and whispered in a voice only Fukushima could hear:

"Colonel, it's been an hour."

Fukushima Yasumasa didn't turn around. He had a cigar in his mouth, took a puff, and then slowly exhaled.

"Hmm." Fukushima's voice was also very low, almost inaudible. "It seems this Chang Desheng is no ordinary international student!"

Hideaki Tojo didn't reply; his mind was racing with calculations.

One hour.

The audience was scheduled for 3 p.m., but the Kaiser summoned a foreign student two hours early for a private meeting, something almost unheard of in Prussian-German diplomatic protocol. Unless… this student's identity wasn't that of a "student" at all.

"Colonel," Tojo lowered his voice, "could he be Li Hongzhang's secret envoy?"

Fukushima finally turned his head and glanced at Tojo.

"That's for sure!" Fukushima took another drag of his cigarette, his gaze returning to the staircase. "It seems we underestimated the Beiyang Army and Li Hongzhang."

He paused, then continued:

"In the past, we only focused on the Beiyang Fleet and the outdated Huai Army. We lacked understanding of the Beiyang Military Academy and the Beiyang Modern Army that they might be forming."

"The Beiyang New Army?" Tojo Hideaki repeated the phrase, his mind flashing back to his conversations with Chang Desheng on the cruise ship. He thought for a moment and said, "The Beiyang Army is probably building a new force capable of fighting in the cold regions along the Heilongjiang River, with the aim of defending against Russia."

"Oh?" Fukushima raised an eyebrow. "Did Chang Desheng tell you that?"

"He revealed it unintentionally," Tojo said. "Or perhaps... he let me know on purpose."

Fukushima didn't speak, but just narrowed his eyes.

Just then, there was a creaking sound on the stairs.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The footsteps were quick and hurried. Fukushima and Tojo looked in the direction of the sound at the same time and saw Chang Desheng walking briskly down the stairs, his braid swaying behind his head, his face looking somewhat... grave? It seemed he had just finished a rather unsuccessful private meeting!

Hideaki Tojo's face instantly broke into a smile, and he called out in Chinese towards Chang Desheng's direction:

"Brother Zhenbang!"

Chang Desheng was walking downhill with his head down when he heard the sound. He paused for a moment and looked up. He saw Tojo, and also Fukushima next to Tojo. The worried expression on his face vanished like smoke blown away by the wind, replaced by a warm smile, as if he had changed his expression instantly.

He cupped his hands in a respectful gesture and replied:

"Tojo-kun."

Then, without stopping, he continued briskly downstairs, through the waiting hall, and straight out of the palace. His back view looked... a bit hurried.

Tojo Hideaki stared at his retreating figure as he disappeared outside the palace gates, then lowered his voice and asked:

"Colonel, should we send someone... to keep an eye on him?"

Fukushima Yasumasa smiled, finished the last puff of his cigar, and stubbed it out on the stone edge of the windowsill.

"Someone's already watching."

Hideaki Tojo didn't say anything, but there was a hint of admiration in his eyes.

Fukushima turned around, patted Tojo on the shoulder, and pointed in the direction where Chang Desheng had disappeared:

"In the War Academy, you must study him as your nemesis on the future battlefield. Not a classmate, not a competitor, but an enemy. Understand?"

Hideaki Tojo straightened his back: "Hey! I'll create an 'opponent file' for him, collecting all the information about him, his tactical preferences, personality weaknesses, way of thinking, interpersonal relationships, and so on, and conduct systematic research and analysis."

He paused, his voice lowering, as if making a vow:

"In the future, I will utterly defeat them on the Korean Peninsula and on the battlefields within Qing China!"

......

At the same time, outside Sanssouci Palace.

Chang Desheng exited the palace gates, squinted, and scanned the parking lot before finding the old horse-drawn carriage belonging to the embassy. Reiner and Guo Shigui were pacing beside it, each with a pipe in their mouth. Reiner's pace was quite measured, like a Prussian officer on duty. Guo Shigui's pace had a more… Tianjin-style old man's leisurely stroll, hands behind his back, arms swinging.

Upon seeing Chang Desheng emerge, Guo Shigui quickly pulled his pipe from his mouth and jogged to meet him.

"Zhenbang! Oh my, you're finally out! It's been over an hour, what were you talking about with the Kaiser?"

Chang Desheng nodded, said nothing more, and only uttered six words:

"We talked about quite a few things."

Then he waved to Reiner and Guo Shigui: "Mr. Reiner, Mr. Guo, get in the car, let's go back to Berlin first."

Reiner, speaking in Mandarin with a German accent, also asked, "Chang, how's it going?"

Chang Desheng replied in Mandarin, "Not bad, Mr. Rui. We'll discuss it in detail later."

Reiner and Guo Shigui exchanged a glance but didn't ask any further questions. They both knew perfectly well that something had definitely come up in their conversation, and it was something significant.

The three boarded the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, and the old horse trotted along the cobblestone streets of Potsdam, heading towards Berlin.

Chang Desheng leaned against the carriage wall, closed his eyes, and his mind was racing with the sound of his abacus.

We got the Kaiser's attitude, and it was incredibly positive! Almost too positive.

How can this attitude be conveyed to Li Hongzhang?

He started doing calculations in his mind:

First, he didn't have a codebook. Before leaving Tianjin, that fat man Yinchang only gave him a letter addressed to the German Emperor, not the coded message for contacting the Beiyang Army. What the hell does that mean? The messenger only delivers the message, not the reply?

Secondly, if he were to use the official channels of the legation to send a telegram to the Beiyang government through Hong Zhuangyuan, the news would be considered public. Wouldn't the upright officials in the court, Weng Tonghe's group, and the future "war faction" all know? What would they think if they knew that Li Hongzhang was secretly plotting with the German Emperor to buy a 10,000-ton warship, hiring German advisors, and secretly planning to "strike first" against Japan? Wouldn't these war faction members think that Li's appeasement faction was... way too damn warlike?

Chang Desheng thought to himself: Something's not right. Wasn't Li Hongzhang supposed to be quite patient in history? Why is he now "rushing headlong" down the path of actively provoking war against Japan? Is the butterfly effect of my "little butterfly" a bit too big?

Third, even if Hong Zhuangyuan sent a telegram, how should it be written? Should he send a vague message saying "The Emperor has agreed and will send the consul stationed in Tianjin to discuss the details"? If Hong Zhuangyuan pressed for details about what the Emperor had agreed to, the price, and the specifics, how would he answer?

Fourth, and most importantly, Chang Desheng performed so well in Germany—he ranked first in the War College exam, met the German Emperor, and even made acquaintances with future bigwigs like Schlieffen and Hindenburg. Shouldn't Li Hongzhang, such a high-ranking leader, know about his achievements and hard work? And if he did, wouldn't he be rewarded? He'd be given an official position, but one with a vacancy—in the Qing Dynasty, Han Chinese officials didn't receive a salary without a vacancy; he couldn't just be a "perpetual laborer," could he?

To avoid working for nothing, one must find a safe and discreet channel to directly contact Li Hongzhang.

Where could he find such connections? He was a complete stranger in Berlin, knowing no one except for the people at the embassy. Guo Shigui? This dark-skinned, chubby man seemed quite helpful, but he was Hong Zhuangyuan's subordinate—unreliable. Reiner? A German—even less reliable.

Chang Desheng's head throbbed more and more as he thought about it. The smug feeling he had after leaving the Emperor of Germany, thinking "I've seen the world," was completely extinguished by the harsh realities of life.

Damn it, Party A (Li Hongzhang) gave a vague instruction (to deliver a letter), and Party B (I) exceeded the task (and even negotiated additional conditions). Now I want to settle accounts with Party A and claim my bonus, but I find that... I don't have Party A's contact information.

What the hell is this?

The carriage clattered and rattled all the way, finally arriving back at the legation in Berlin as dusk fell.

The embassy was quiet. Duan Qirui, Shang Dequan, Wu Dingyuan, and Kong Qingtang were all absent. Tomorrow was the day they were taking the entrance exam for the Berlin Military Academy, which was located in the suburbs and quite far away. They had gone there this afternoon to stay overnight in the academy's dormitory so they could get up early tomorrow.

Chang Desheng originally intended to go and report the audience with Scholar Hong, just to go through the motions. But as soon as he arrived at the main building entrance, he heard the servant say, "Young Master Chang, Lord Hong is unwell and has already retired for the night."

Chang Desheng was taken aback, thinking: Why are they asleep so early? What time is it? But he didn't ask any more questions. This Scholar Hong doesn't have many years left to live, why ask? So he nodded and turned to walk towards his own small building.

After arriving at his small building, he went to the kitchen first, ordered two steamed buns, a plate of German salted pork knuckle, and a bowl of millet porridge, and carried them back to his room on a tray.

The oil lamp was lit, its dim light casting shadows throughout the room. Chang Desheng sat at the table, munching on a steamed bun and salted pig's trotters while continuing to ponder.

How to reply to Li Hongzhang's telegram and write a letter?

It can't be too long, telegrams are too expensive! It needs to be concise, but key information can't be omitted.

The Kaiser's attitude: He agreed, was very enthusiastic, and even somewhat "encouraged".

The purchase price of the ship was around two million taels.

German advisor: Tirpitz in charge.

The Kaiser's hints about "striking first" were very clear, almost like saying "Go ahead and attack, I support you"—truly befitting Wilhelm II!

His contributions to Chang Desheng must be mentioned, but a reward cannot be openly demanded. How should it be mentioned? Should it be something like, "This student has subtly ascertained the German side's bottom line, and their intentions are very sincere"? Or, "This student observes the Emperor's intentions and believes the opportunity for war may be brought forward"?

After he finished eating his steamed bun and pig's trotters, he was scribbling on a piece of draft paper with a pencil stub when there was a sudden "knock knock knock" on the door.

From outside came Guo Shigui's authentic Tianjin dialect:

"Zhenbang, it's me, Lao Guo."

Chang Desheng was taken aback, wondering what this fat guy was doing here so late at night instead of sleeping. Was he drinking? He quickly flipped the draft paper over, placed it face down on the table, and got up to open the door.

As soon as the door opened, Guo Shigui slipped in, holding a small blue notebook about the size of his palm.

Chang Desheng initially thought Guo Shigui had come to have a couple of drinks with him and try to get some information out of him, but looking at the notebook in his hand, he didn't think so—who would bring a notebook when asking someone to have a drink?

"Lord Guo, what's going on here...?" Chang Desheng asked as he closed the door.

Guo Shigui didn't reply. Instead, he walked to the table and slammed the small notebook in his hand down in front of Chang Desheng.

Chang Desheng looked down.

It was a palm-sized blue notebook with the words "Beiyang Secret Telegrams" printed on the cover, and a handwritten number on the right side—"Zhen," number one.

Guo Shigui reached out and turned the cover page of the notebook.

On the title page, a few words were written in calligraphy:

Jiao Changzhenbang

荫昌

The handwriting is strong and vigorous; it is indeed Yin Chang's handwriting.

This codebook…was it given to him by Yin Chang? But why didn’t Yin Chang give it to him before he left Tianjin? And how did this codebook end up in Guo Shigui’s hands?

He suddenly looked up and stared at Guo Shigui.

Guo Shigui remained calm. He took out another neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket and placed it next to the codebook.

Chang Desheng opened the note, which contained only one number: "+33".

"This is..." Chang Desheng looked up at Guo Shigui.

"The key," Guo Shigui said in a low voice in Tianjin dialect, "translate the words into numbers according to the codebook, add a certain number to each number, and that's encryption. Send it to the Zhili Governor-General's Office in Tianjin. The Grand Secretary has the same codebook and knows how to decrypt it."

Chang Desheng picked up the small notebook and opened it. The Chinese characters and numbers inside were neatly matched, and each character was marked with a four-digit code.

He stood there, stunned, his mind racing.

Codebook... key... Guo Shigui...

He suddenly realized what was happening, looked up at Guo Shigui, and his eyes were filled with surprise.

Guo Shigui looked at him and suddenly smiled. That smile was completely different from his usual perfunctory laugh; it conveyed a sense of closeness, like that of someone who was "one of us."

"Zhenbang," Guo Shigui said, his tone changing, losing the slickness of his Tianjin roots, "to be honest, I, Guo... have long been a member of the Beiyang clique."

As he spoke, he took out a stack of things from his pocket and placed them on the table.

It was money, Imperial Marks, a thick wad of cash.

"This is one thousand marks, your allowance and telegraph fee, paid annually," Guo Shigui said. "Telegraphs are expensive, so use them sparingly. For detailed matters that are inconvenient to discuss in a telegram, you can write to His Excellency the Grand Secretary. In three days, someone from the embassy will be returning home, and I will arrange to send your letter back."

Chang Desheng looked at the blue-covered codebook on the table, the handwriting of Yin Chang on the title page, the note with "+33" written on it, and the stack of marks, and finally understood.

I understand everything now.

What Yin Chang gave him before leaving Tianjin was not a letter. It was a connection, and the other end of that connection was in Berlin, at the embassy, ​​to Guo Shigui, who seemed greedy, avaricious, and loud-mouthed.

Guo Shigui had been observing him all along. He observed his exams, his meeting with the Emperor, and his reactions upon his return. Only after confirming that he was "usable" and "reliable" did he reveal himself and connect the intermediary.

This is... we've found the Beiyang organization.

The weight that had been hanging over Chang Desheng's heart finally lifted with a thud. But immediately afterward, an even bigger weight pressed down on him—the organization had found him, which meant he had to start working.

"Brother Guo," Chang Desheng changed his form of address and solemnly cupped his hands towards Guo Shigui, "I... understand everything now."

Guo Shigui patted him on the shoulder, said nothing more, and turned to leave. Before leaving, he turned back and added, "Hurry up. Tomorrow morning, I'll take you to a certain area where you can send telegrams."

The door closed.

Chang Desheng was left alone in the room again, along with the flickering oil lamp.

He sat back down at the table and spread out a new sheet of white paper. He picked up his pen and first wrote a draft of the telegram on the paper:

"The Kaiser has agreed to sell ships and send personnel, at a price of over two million, and also intends to provoke war. Judging from his intentions, he wants to profit from the chaos. I, Desheng, request your instructions."

After he finished writing, he put down his pen and stared at the line of text for a long time.

Then, he opened the blue codebook and, referring to the key on the slip of paper, decoded the code number by number. After finishing, he checked it over to make sure there were no errors before neatly copying the decoded ciphertext onto a new telegram.

After doing all that, he took out another sheet of paper and began to write.

This time it wasn't a telegram, but a letter.

Give him a letter from Li Hongzhang, his real client, first stating your job requirements, then asking for money and a position.

The Grand Secretary: You deserve more money and a promotion!