114: Chapter 114 What secrets are hidden in this batch of items?

He began to investigate the whereabouts of the secret memorials.

Regarding the secret memorials of the Yongzheng era, the Qing court kept specialized archives; the Forbidden City Museum still preserves a large number of Memorials with vermilion comments from the Yongzheng reign, a significant portion of which are secret memorials, each with its own serial number and record.

Hu Tian searched for a long time but could not find any record of a secret memorial related to the foreign items reported by Hao Yulin.

Not a single one.

He sat back in his chair and looked at the two matters together.

The secret memorial did not appear in the archives.

Hao Yulin was assassinated only three days after sending out the secret memorial.

These two things combined led to only one explanation.

The secret memorial never reached the Yongzheng Emperor's hands.

It vanished unexpectedly on its way to the capital.

Something began to stir in Hu Tian's mind; he reopened the search bar and entered another name.

Zhu Bu.

He hadn't thought deeply about this name at the time, but now he remembered it.

The results came up.

Zhu Bu, a famous pirate of the Qing Dynasty, was active during the Yongzheng and Emperor Qianlong eras, primarily operating in the Taiwan Strait and the coastal areas of Fujian and Zhejiang. He plundered countless merchant ships, and despite numerous government suppression attempts, none were able to completely eliminate him. He eventually disappeared, leaving behind many legends among the people.

Hu Tian looked at these words and tapped his fingers lightly on the table twice.

Zhu Bu.

The seventh year of the Yongzheng reign.

The secret memorial sent by the Governor-General of Fujian to the capital traveled via Courier Routes, but the journey from Fujian Province to the capital during the Yongzheng era was long and involved multiple stretches of water. Zhu Bu's range of activity happened to cover the most critical segment.

He found a relatively detailed record of Zhu Bu's activities compiled by later generations, which included a chronological list of his plunderings.

The seventh year of the Yongzheng reign appeared three times on that chronology.

Hu Tian locked his gaze on one of the entries.

In the autumn of the seventh year of the Yongzheng reign, a fleet of official ships was plundered; the haul was substantial, but the specific items remain unknown.

A fleet of official ships.

Autumn.

Hu Tian pieced the timeline together once more.

Hao Yulin was assassinated exactly in the autumn of the seventh year of the Yongzheng reign.

Zhu Bu plundered the official fleet also in the autumn of the seventh year of the Yongzheng reign.

And the secret memorial sent by Hao Yulin, along with the items attached to it, never appeared in any archives from that point on.

Hu Tian slowly leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes to think for a moment.

The logic held up.

Hao Yulin had entrusted the secret memorial and the relevant important items to messengers to be sent secretly to the capital. While traveling by water through the Fujian and Zhejiang region, they were intercepted by Zhu Bu, who was active in that area. He plundered everything from the fleet, which naturally included that Copper Box.

But after the robbery, did Zhu Bu know what he had obtained?

Clearly, he did not.

Hu Tian opened his eyes and turned to look at the Copper Box on the table.

The Copper Box sat there quietly; under the light of the desk lamp, the engraved patterns appeared exceptionally serene.

Hu Tian picked up the Copper Box from the workbench again.

He turned it over and over, examining it for a long time.

From the outside, it looked like an exquisitely crafted Copper Box with intricate but not extraordinary patterns. Similar items were not rare in that era; official families might display such objects to store jewelry, seals, or miscellaneous small items.

He opened the Copper Box and examined its internal structure.

The inner walls were smooth, the bottom was flat, and there was a hidden compartment that one wouldn't notice without looking closely.

Even if they did notice, a common person's first reaction upon getting this Copper Box would be that it was a container for valuable small objects. They would then take out the fabric inside, glance at it, see a few rolls of scrap cloth, and might throw them away directly or just set them aside as useless items.

As for what was written on the scrap cloth—those dense handwriting samples, the interwoven content of Chinese, manchu, and latin—it would have been completely meaningless to a pirate who lived by plundering.

Hu Tian slowly placed the Copper Box back on the table.

Zhu Bu certainly hadn't discovered the secret within this Copper Box.

Perhaps when he got the Copper Box, he glanced through it and thought it was just a jewelry box containing a few useless scraps of cloth. Maybe he threw those fabrics away on a whim, or perhaps he kept the Copper Box as a valuable vessel, but he absolutely did not know that hidden inside was a secret enough to astound him.

Thus, with no one the wiser, this secret drifted at sea with Zhu Bu's ship, then sank into the ocean, and finally, hundreds of years later, fell into Hu Tian's hands.

Hu Tian looked again at the several rolls of fabric spread out on the table.

The picture he could piece together now was much clearer than it had been two hours ago.

Adam Schall von Bell.

Hao Yulin.

Zhu Bu.

These three names that had left their marks on history were entangled with these items, forming a broken chain.

But the chain was broken at the most critical point.

What secret is hidden within these items?

Hao Yulin said that if this object were to emerge, the world would know the grave danger of the foreign barbarians.

He had carefully studied these items, made this judgment, and then decided to report secretly to the Emperor for him to decide.

This indicated that Hao Yulin had seen the danger in these things.

But he, Hu Tian, had not yet.

Hu Tian lowered his head again, his gaze falling back onto those rolls of fabric, back onto the records where Chinese, manchu, and latin were interwoven.

He knew the answer was here.

He just hadn't found the key to unlock it yet.

That was why it had slept in that coastal reef east of the Matsu Islands for nearly three hundred years, sleeping until now, sleeping until it waited to be dug out of the mud by Hu Tian.

Hu Tian sat in his chair without moving.

The circle of light from the desk lamp turned the tabletop yellow; the rolls of fabric lay quietly in the light as if waiting for something.

He placed his fingers on the keyboard and typed a few more keywords.

The seventh year of the Yongzheng reign.

Fujian Province.

Hao Yulin.

Related entries popped up—scattered, incoherent, mostly fragments from local Gazetteers or historical articles compiled by later generations.

He read through them one by one, his eyes moving slowly across the screen.

Records of Hao Yulin during the Yongzheng reign mainly focused on his administrative achievements in Fujian Province—repairing dikes, rectifying officialdom, and suppressing bandits. He had done much practical work and was a High-ranking official with a good reputation.

But regarding his death, the historical records were surprisingly brief, only stating that he "died of illness while in office," with no further details.

Hu Tian paused on those few words.

Died while in office.

He moved his gaze from the screen to the rolls of fabric.

Hao Yulin died in the autumn of the seventh year of the Yongzheng reign; that same year, the Fujian Missionary Incident broke out, and the Imperial Court began a large-scale expulsion of missionaries.

The timing matched up.

He returned his gaze to the screen, slowly organizing his thoughts.

Hao Yulin had discovered these items, seen the secret hidden within, judged the matter to be of great importance, and decided to submit a secret memorial, sending the items along to the capital.

But on the way, he died.

The manner of his death was assassination by a foreign barbarian assassin.

And the Yongzheng Emperor must have known what Hao Yulin was doing; otherwise, he wouldn't have immediately used the Fujian Missionary Incident as a pretext to order the expulsion of missionaries from Fujian Province after Hao Yulin's death, with an intensity of enforcement far exceeding other provinces.

This proved one thing.

The Yongzheng Emperor received the news, but he did not receive the Copper Box, the fabric, or the things Hao Yulin wanted him to see.

He knew what had happened, but he didn't know where the object had ultimately gone.

Hu Tian took his hands off the keyboard and leaned back.

He ran this logical chain through his mind once more.

Hao Yulin found the items, discovered the secret, and decided to report it.

The Yongzheng Emperor was aware of this step; perhaps Hao Yulin had sent another secret memorial in advance to explain the situation, or perhaps the news was leaked through other channels.

Then Hao Yulin was killed.

The assassin was a foreign barbarian; the Yongzheng Emperor knew this as well, otherwise there wouldn't have been such a strong subsequent reaction.

But the fleet carrying the items was intercepted at sea by Zhu Bu. The Copper Box, the fabric, and that secret all fell into Zhu Bu's hands, and then sank to the bottom of the sea near Donghu Island along with Zhu Bu's shipwreck.

The Yongzheng Emperor waited—waited for the items to be delivered, or waited for someone to tell him where they were—but he received nothing.

He only knew that Hao Yulin was dead, killed by foreign barbarians; he only knew the outline of the situation, but he never knew what the core item actually was or where it was hidden.

So all he could do was drive the foreigners out of Fujian Province, close the churches, suppress the matter, and then wait for the items to appear on their own.

But they did not appear.

They lay submerged in the sea for nearly three hundred years, until today, when Hu Tian dug this secret out of the mud.

Hu Tian sat in his chair for a long time without moving.

The light from the desk lamp cast his shadow on the wall—long and quiet.

He lowered his head again and looked at the rolls of fabric.

Hao Yulin said that if this object were to emerge, the world would know the grave danger of the foreign barbarians.

He saw something that the Yongzheng Emperor never had the chance to see.

And he, Hu Tian, was now sitting here, facing these rolls of fabric with nearly three hundred years of history and the answer he had not yet found.

He picked up the outermost roll of fabric again, spread it flat on the table, and looked at the words once more.

Chinese, manchu, and latin were interwoven and densely packed. He had been looking at them for several hours, and his eyes were starting to feel dry, but he did not stop.

He knew the answer was here.

He followed the text, tracing it section by section.

He could already roughly understand the Chinese parts; they recorded certain locations, dates, names, and some descriptive sentences involving the handover of goods, the movement of personnel, and the flow of funds.

The latin parts were harder to handle, but he had the Language Proficiency rewarded by the system. He carefully identified the passages of latin, deducing some parts based on context and using tools for the rest.

The information from the translated latin wasn't entirely accurate; some words seemed discordant in that historical context. He had to cross-reference and deliberate repeatedly to barely grasp the meaning of a passage.

He worked section by section like this for nearly an hour before he basically organized and clarified the content on the first roll of fabric.

He wrote the results on a piece of paper nearby and then sat there, staring blankly at the paper.

This was an account book.

Not an ordinary account book, but a record of the circulation of goods. The types of goods involved were diverse: silk, porcelain, and tea—these were normal, the standard commodities of foreign trade in that era.

But interspersed among these goods were records of another category of items.

Documents.

Gunpowder.

Letters.

There were also some terms he hadn't seen before that required further confirmation, but from the context, they were likely related to military information as well.

And these items were not flowing in from the outside.

They were leaking out from the Imperial Court.

He re-read the contents on the paper once more to confirm he hadn't misread it.