Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

The next day, at noon.

Yuanfang Tower.

After the destruction of Xieyitang, the property was quietly taken over by its former subordinates, and daily operations continued as usual.

However, the dishes served at noon today were not prepared by the Cantonese chef, but by Jian Yuan himself. The waiters who usually greeted and saw off customers were also on holiday, and the place was now filled with heavily armed assassins.

Su Song waited at the entrance on the first floor. Before long, he saw two riders coming from the street corner.

The person in the lead was Director Chen Long, followed by a short-haired young man with slightly rusty riding skills but a straight back, who was none other than Rong Hong.

"Oh dear, how could I trouble Mr. Su to wait for me outside? I'm so sorry to have troubled you."

Chen Long, carrying the gifts, and Rong Hong quickly dismounted and bowed.

Yesterday, he had originally planned to host a dinner for Su Song, but he didn't expect to receive a reply in the evening. Su Song actually invited him instead and even asked him to bring his nephew Rong Hong.

"Director Chen, Mr. Rong, there's no need to be so polite."

Su Song smiled and returned the greeting, then stepped aside and gestured for them to proceed: "Please follow me to the second floor, my lord has been waiting for you for quite some time."

Lord?

Disbelief flashed in both Chen Long and Rong Hong's eyes. Everyone in Chinatown thought that Su Song, who was ruthless and controlled a powerful armed force, was the leader of this emerging force.

I never expected that he had someone above him?

The two suppressed their emotions and followed Su Song upstairs to a private room facing the street.

The private room was decorated with great care, featuring a mahogany round table, a screen partition, and elegant furnishings.

It was the same room where Chen Long and Su Song first met.

Seated at the head of the table was a young man, about twenty years old, tall and strong, with handsome features. Like Rong Hong, he had a neat short haircut, and his eyes and brows exuded an unusual calmness and sharpness.

He was flipping through the extra edition of the newspaper, the front page detailing the tragedy that had occurred in San Francisco the previous day. Reporters and commentators were criticizing the incompetent police system and calling on citizens to join a vigilance committee to protect themselves.

"My lord, Mr. Chen Long and Mr. Rong Hong have arrived," Su Song announced at the door.

He put down his newspaper and glanced at the newcomer, his gaze lingering on Rong Hong for a moment.

Having overheard their conversation through Jian Yuan's ears last time, he had been thinking of meeting them. After all, in this era, Chinese people who could truly open their eyes to the world and were willing to do things were extremely rare.

But he really didn't expect that one of them would be Yung Wing.

Rong Hong—the name might be unfamiliar, but his achievements are well-known to later generations.

First, he participated in the construction of the Jiangnan Arsenal, China's first large-scale arsenal in modern times. At that time, most of the machinery was purchased from the United States.

Secondly, he organized the first group of young Chinese students to study in the United States, including Zhan Tianyou and Cai Shaoji. It is because of this that he is hailed as the father of Chinese students studying abroad.

This was a man who truly harbored the ideal of "infusing China with Western scholarship, so that China could become civilized and prosperous."

He gestured to the two men, saying, "Mr. Chen Long, Mr. Rong Hong, please have a seat."

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Zeng Jing, and I am now an unknown person."

Chen Long and Rong Hong sat down as instructed, their postures still somewhat reserved.

Su Song then turned and went to the kitchen to urge Jian Yuan to serve the dishes.

"Judging from his accent, Mr. Zeng is from Hunan?"

After Chen Long sat down, he tentatively began to speak, trying to start a conversation: "I wonder what the relationship is between that Vice Minister Zeng of the Imperial Court and you, sir?"

Zeng Shilang?

I blinked and realized who Chen Long was talking about.

Zeng Guofan once shaved his head.

From 1849 to 1854, he remained in the position of Vice Minister.

He served as the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, Acting Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, concurrently Acting Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice, and Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel. After his mother's death and the ensuing period of mourning, he became a registered Vice Minister...

He took a sip of tea and said, "It's nothing, we're just from the same hometown and share the same surname."

There might be some connection in their past lives, since their hometown is only six kilometers away from Zeng Guofan's former residence, and they might have actually been from the same family during the Ming Dynasty.

But in this life, we are truly just fellow villagers.

"Is my Hunan accent so obvious that people can tell right away?"

Yung Wing nodded and said, "Indeed, it is quite noticeable. Just as we Cantonese people always have a bit of a Cantonese accent when we speak Mandarin, the Hunan, Jiangxi, and Wu dialects each have their own characteristics."

"After all, the Mandarin language was originally based on the Northern accent, and we Southerners weren't taken into consideration."

I once complained, "Forget it, let's not talk about this anymore."

"I heard Mr. Chen runs a clothing store in San Francisco? How's business?"

Chen Long cautiously replied, "Fortunately, both shops are doing quite well. We recently reached a cooperation agreement with a foreigner to sell his trousers, which has brought in a considerable amount of new income each day."

I was once curious: "Oh? What kind of pants?"

Chen Long said, "They're just ordinary work pants, but they're extremely durable, and the pockets and seams are reinforced, so they're very popular with foreigners."

"Jeans?" I was somewhat taken aback.

Upon hearing the name, Chen Long's eyes lit up: "Jeans? It's true that most of the buyers of these jeans are cowboys and miners, so the name is quite fitting."

"Mr. Zeng also has expertise in clothing?"

No, it's just that I wore it a lot in my past life.

When he looked at Chen Long, he never expected that this foreigner, whom he mentioned as someone with whom he had some cooperation, was actually Levi Strauss, the inventor of jeans.

"No, I've only dabbled in it a little."

She shook her head briefly, glossing over the question, before her gaze returned to Yung Wing. "Mr. Yung, you're a Yale graduate, with broad knowledge and experience. What are your plans for the future?"

Yung Wing was taken aback, not expecting to be asked about himself. He thought for a moment and then slowly said, "To be honest, Mr. Zeng, I plan to go back and first visit the Qing court, and then go to the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom."

Chen Long, listening from the side, felt a growing anxiety. His nephew lacked experience in the ways of the world and was too arrogant and unrestrained.

Why are you explaining yourself so clearly when you don't even know the other side's background? What if the other side is someone from the imperial court? Your life could be in danger if you just said that one sentence.

He chuckled lightly and said, "Whether it's the Qing Dynasty or the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, does Mr. Rong really think they can listen to your advice and allow that ancient continent to begin modernization?"

Yung Wing frowned, his expression slightly unconvinced: "Why not? The balance of power between East and West is becoming increasingly clear, and that is an undeniable fact."

There must be discerning people on both sides who have seen this situation. With a crisis looming, would they really remain stagnant and wait to be destroyed?

"Yes." The answer was firm and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

Seeing the growing skepticism in Rong Hong's eyes, he calmly put down his teacup and began to give examples, as if reciting a familiar list:

"Mr. Rong may still have illusions about the hides of those Tungusic wild boars. Let me give you a few examples."

"Kangxi employed Western missionaries such as Ferdinand Verbiest to study mathematics and astronomy, and to learn about the progress of Western science and technology, but he never promoted it. Instead, he kept it hidden in the palace, regarding it as a private school for the emperor."

"In 1793, the British envoy Lord Macartney came to China with gifts including an orthography device, a bronze cannon, a model of a warship, a telescope, and a flintlock musket. However, Emperor Qianlong regarded them as strange and frivolous crafts and not worth mentioning."

"During the Kangxi era, Dai Zi, a genius in firearms, created a repeating firearm shaped like a pipa (a Chinese lute) that could fire twenty-eight shots in succession; he also created a mother-and-child cannon, which was lightweight and convenient for field battles. What was the result? He was not given important positions, but was instead falsely accused and exiled to Shengjing (Mukden), where he died in obscurity."

"Bi Maokang wrote 'Illustrated Explanation of Military Weapons' in the late Ming Dynasty, which recorded in detail the manufacturing method of flintlock guns. However, this book was banned and destroyed for a long time in the Qing Dynasty, and it was only in recent years that the ban was lifted."

Rong Hong remained silent for a long while, then hesitated and said, "Perhaps it was because it was a peaceful era, and the court did not experience the pain firsthand?"

He scoffed once, then said, "Let me tell you something closer to home."

"During the Opium War, which the British called the Trade War."

Ding Gongchen, a native of Jinjiang, Fujian, devoted himself to the study of Western firearms, authoring "Illustrated Explanation of Artillery Operations" and even drawing rudimentary sketches of steamships, intending to present them to the imperial court. What did Mu Zhang'a, the then Grand Councilor, do with him? He discarded him.

"He Ligui, a craftsman from Guangdong, learned how to build large Western sailing ships overseas. He wanted to return to China to serve his country, but he was treated as a spy and was kept under surveillance."

The Manchus said, "As for He Ligui, who used to build ships for the foreigners, now that he is working for us, it is inconvenient to detain him as a criminal. The most important thing is to ensure he serves diligently, keep him under secret surveillance, and prevent him from contacting foreigners or escaping."

"He Ligui, the craftsman from Guangdong, is to remain in Chu Province and be properly supervised; he shall not be allowed to escape."

"In addition, there were Gong Zhenlin casting cannons, Ding Shoucun making landmines, and Pan Shicheng imitating Western warships..."

Countless talented Han Chinese devoted themselves to saving the nation through technology. However, the Manchu nobles either condemned their efforts as wasteful, suspected them of colluding with foreigners, or simply shelved them. Few were truly capable, while countless others attacked them.

He took a sip of tea to moisten his throat, and said with a half-smile, "Mr. Rong, do you still think that those Manchu nobles who regard Han people as slaves and are more wary of them than of rivers would genuinely listen to the words of a Han person who has cut off his queue and speaks fluent Western learning?"

Rong Hong sat blankly in the chair, his face pale. He had a heart full of patriotic fervor, but he had never thought about what the Manchu Qing Dynasty was.

Seeing his nephew so distraught, Chen Long sighed inwardly, but also felt a great sense of relief. This Mr. Zeng, who could so vehemently criticize the flaws of the Manchu Qing dynasty, was certainly not a lackey of the imperial court.

He looked at Rong Hong and continued, "Ah Hong, let me tell you something about the Qing Dynasty."

"In the twenty-second year of the Daoguang Emperor's reign, I accompanied my father to Jiangsu to do business, and we stopped in Zhenjiang along the way."

"When the British invaded, the city was closed, and my father and I had no choice but to stay at a friend's house in the city. Then we witnessed the most absurd scene in the world."

"Hai Ling, the deputy military commander of Zhenjiang, was a Manchu. Under the pretext of investigating and arresting spies, he massacred Han Chinese in the city. Sometimes, in order to rob people of their property, he would even search and kill people from house to house."

"Before the British cannons even reached the city walls, Zhenjiang was already littered with corpses and rivers of blood, and tens of thousands of Zhenjiang people had passed away."

Later, when the British breached the city, many surviving civilians even believed that the British had come to rescue people out of pity.

"This is how the Manchus treated us Han Chinese: they regarded us as worthless and slaughtered us at the drop of a hat!"

This is why I don't want you to go to the Qing court. In that den of wolves and tigers, your talent and learning will not only be a stepping stone to advancement, but may even be your death warrant.

The private room fell silent for a moment, with only the faint sounds of bustling city life coming from outside the window.

At this moment, Jianyuan, accompanied by several bodyguards, brought out the dishes one after another. In addition to the exquisite Cantonese dim sum, steamed sea fish, and poached chicken, there were also two plates of bright red and glistening Hunan dishes.

Stir-fried pork with chili peppers and fish head with chopped chili peppers. Steam rises, and the spicy aroma instantly fills the air.

He picked up his chopsticks, pointed at the dishes, and said, "Alright, we're all thirsty from talking so much. Let's eat and chat."

He picked up a piece of fish, and his taste buds were greeted by that domineering, spicy flavor that he hadn't experienced in a long time, causing him to squint his eyes.

Chen Long also picked up his chopsticks and then asked, "Judging from Mr. Zeng's earlier words, you don't have a good opinion of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom either?"

Having swallowed the fish, he nodded: "Yes, although the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom is now buying foreign guns and cannons from Western arms dealers at high prices and has established arsenals such as the Suzhou Ammunition Factory and the Zhangzhou Ordnance Factory, its dependence on external forces is still too high."

"In addition, internal struggles were fierce. The Heavenly King, Heavenly Father, Heavenly Brother, Eastern King, Northern King, and Wing King were separated from each other, and suspicion arose daily."

Once relations completely break down, internal strife erupts, and soldiers turn on each other, the Qing army will seize the opportunity to attack from the outside. The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, currently burning like a raging fire, will then decline and may even face annihilation.

Having recovered somewhat, Yung Wing asked in a hoarse voice, "The Qing Dynasty is no good, and the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom is also unreliable."

"After all these years of study, am I just supposed to watch helplessly as my homeland declines and my compatriots are bullied, without being able to do anything about it?"

"It's not that bad."

He smiled slightly, but his words were full of meaning: "Even if the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom fails this time, the world is vast and the blood of the Han people has not cooled. There will always be new people of virtue and righteousness who step forward, one after another, to try to save the people from suffering."

"Since the Jia Shen Incident, when China was submerged and the Han people lost their country more than two hundred years ago, has the resistance ever truly stopped?"

Whether it was Zhu San Taizi, the Heaven and Earth Society, the White Lotus Sect, or even today's Taiping Army and Nian Rebellion... though the sparks of revolution have been repeatedly extinguished, they always reignite from the ashes. Why?

His gaze swept over Rong Hong and Chen Long. "Because our people have never truly surrendered in their bones. As long as there are people who refuse to be slaves, as long as this land still exists, the flame will never be extinguished."

Yung Wing put down his chopsticks, sat up straight, and looked directly at Zeng Guofan: "Mr. Zeng invited us here today and said so many insightful and incisive things, pointing out the ills of the times. Could it be that you want to recruit me?"

"That's right." Zeng Cheng said frankly, "After all, in this day and age, there are very few compatriots like Mr. Rong who can open their eyes to the world."

Yung Wing hesitated and said, "But Mr. Tsang is already in America, and I studied literature, so I'm afraid I can't be of much help to Mr. Tsang."

"Mr. Rong is mistaken."

He once waved his hand and said, "Doing things doesn't necessarily have to be done in this corner of San Francisco. What I need is someone like you, to come back to China and do something that only you are best suited to do right now."

"Firstly, I hope you can go back and contact the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom for me. As you know, I run an arms company and have no shortage of weapons. Go back and sell them to them; as long as they pay a reasonable price or provide the necessary resources, I can supply them. This is both business and support."

"Secondly, I hope you can bring as many Han Chinese as possible here, including artisans, women and children, and even refugees. I need more of our own people to settle down here and multiply."