〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉12

Chapter Eleven: The Regional Bishop Steps In to Mediate

51
At the Maya chieftain’s residence in the Madou community, the atmosphere in the living room was heavy yet tranquil. Sunlight, dappled through the carved wooden windows, fell upon the ancient wooden floor, and the dim yellow light made the mansion’s ambiance particularly solemn. On the wall hung an oil painting depicting a grand feast of the ancient tribe; the figures in the painting displayed rich expressions, as if narrating the heroic legends of the past. The air in the room carried a faint scent of herbs, harmonizing with the low wooden furniture, creating a sense of simplicity and stability.

Father Matthews entered the living room. Chieftain Maya was seated upright in a low-backed chair, watching the priest with an expressionless face. Her hands rested flat on her knees, fingers slightly interlaced, her gaze steady and profound, everything under her control.

Matthews bowed respectfully, his tone gentle yet tinged with a trace of urgency: “Chieftain, I have reported to Regional Bishop Gandis, and he has promised to convene the presidents of the foreign merchants’ guilds in Pucheng and Dayuan Port to jointly put pressure on Chief Peter of the governor’s office. The bishop asked me to relay the message that during this period, please ensure calmness and treat the hostages well, so as not to provoke the authorities.”

Maya nodded slightly, and in the cold sharpness of her eyes, a trace of gratitude shone through: “Father, we thank the bishop for striving on behalf of the people of the region. During this period, we will treat the hostages well. Our aim is only to request that the office rescind the tax increase order, not to engage in direct conflict with the authorities.” She put down the bamboo fan in her hands and whispered a few words to the nearby maid, who nodded and left.

She turned back, her gaze extending through the shadows outside the window toward the distance, her tone resolute: “I will instruct Valu to take the letter I wrote to meet with the chiefs of each community. You need not deliver the messages one by one.”

Matthews exhaled slightly, his body relaxing a little, nodding in understanding: “That reassures me a bit.” He paused, then turned toward a bottle of orchids on the table, seemingly waiting for Maya to continue speaking. “Earlier, I passed by your community meeting hall and saw the banner for mobile medical services. Could it be that Doctor Junsheng and his wife are visiting your community?”

Maya’s lips curved slightly, carrying a subtle trace of gentleness: “Yes. That foreign doctor and Shayun will be here in our community for a while, providing medical services to the villagers.” Her tone carried a hint of pride, clearly pleased by the arrival of the doctor couple.

A spark of excitement passed through Matthews’ eyes, and his tone became much lighter: “Then I must go see him; Junsheng and I are familiar friends.” Saying this, he stepped forward to leave, lightly stroking the wooden carving at the edge of the table, imbued with a hint of nostalgic feeling.

Maya rose, her steps light as she walked toward the door, her hand gently resting on the doorframe, her tone low but filled with trust: “Father, should any unforeseen circumstances arise, please contact me immediately.”

Matthews looked back, giving a slight smile, his gaze steadfast: “Rest assured, Chieftain. I will contact you as soon as possible.”

Maya nodded, her eyes turning again toward the window. The distant mountains gleamed under the sunlight, as if symbolizing the future of this land, which, in any case, would continue to move forward.

52
Matthews arrived at the meeting hall, an ancient wooden building surrounded by dense trees. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches, falling on the lush green grass. The air was filled with the fresh scent of soil and herbs, particularly refreshing. Inside, the lighting was soft, with various herbs and medicinal ingredients arranged on the tables. In the corner, the stove emitted a faint smoke, carrying the fragrance of firewood. The atmosphere here was simple yet warm, like a refuge hidden within nature.

Matthews entered the building and saw Doctor Junsheng and his wife standing nearby. A familiar smile appeared on his face. He approached Junsheng, and the two embraced, instantly creating a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Matthews patted Junsheng on the back, his tone cheerful: “Junsheng, my good brother, I hope all has been well?”

Junsheng smiled, pushing Matthews slightly away, a trace of warmth in his eyes: “Matthews, I am well. And you?” His tone carried genuine concern.

Matthews smiled slightly and gestured around: “Madou is my parish. After leaving Dayuan Port, I have stayed here to preach.” His tone held a trace of pride, clearly satisfied with his sense of mission.

Junsheng smiled even more gently, his eyes full of understanding: “I know you are the priest here, Matthews.” He spoke softly, his eyes revealing the joy of reunion after a long separation.

Suddenly, Matthews glanced at Shayun standing beside him, his eyes lighting up, a joking tone in his voice: “Junsheng, I heard you got married, married the princess of Chikan, and this beautiful lady beside you must be the princess’s wife, right?”

Junsheng smiled warmly, his gaze gentle as he looked at Shayun: “This is my wife, Shayun. She is indeed a princess.” His tone was full of pride.

Shayun bowed slightly, smiling gently, her tone respectful and composed: “Pleasure to meet you, Father Matthews.” Her posture was upright, yet her eyes contained a trace of humility.

Matthews squinted, laughing: “When husband and wife are united, it truly is a case of the husband leading and the wife following!” He waved his hand, seemingly making a lighthearted jest.

Junsheng smiled at Shayun, introducing gently: “My wife practices medicine with me. She has studied Chinese medicine for several years.” His tone was full of pride, clearly proud of his wife.

At that moment, Yimin jumped over, slightly pouting, her tone playful: “I am not here just to join in the fun! Shayun is my big sister. She and her husband teach me many medical skills and knowledge.”

Matthews squinted, looking at Yimin, smiling: “Princess Yimin, are you here joining in the fun too?”

Yimin pouted, somewhat indignant: “I am not joining in the fun! Shayun teaches me many things!” She muttered, her eyes full of small defiance.

Matthews laughed even more heartily: “Tonight we brothers will have a proper reunion. Tomorrow I still have to rush to Xiaolong Community.” He patted Junsheng on the shoulder, his tone relaxed.

Junsheng raised his eyebrows in surprise: “To Xiaolong Community?” He clearly did not anticipate Matthews’ plan.

Matthews nodded: “The regional bishop has instructed me to deliver messages.” His tone was calm, but his eyes held a trace of contemplation.

Junsheng nodded in understanding: “I see.”

At that moment, Shayun’s voice rang out warmly: “Yimin, why don’t we cook together tonight and make a feast?”

Yimin’s eyes lit up, immediately nodding: “Okay! With sister teaching me, the dishes I make shouldn’t be too bad.” A trace of anticipatory smile appeared on her face.

Meanwhile, Wami, standing aside, couldn’t resist pretending to make a distressed face, his tone teasing: “That’s not certain. I have experienced the princess’s cooking before—it felt like being a victim.”

Yimin pouted, retorting with displeasure: “It wasn’t that tragic, Wami. Don’t make me look so awful.”

Wami scratched his forehead nonchalantly, laughing: “I did not make you look awful; I am only speaking honestly.” As he spoke, he glanced at Yimin, his face playful.

Yimin pretended to be angry, striking a challenging pose: “Wami, you really are naughty!” She lightly waved her hand, tapping Wami’s shoulder a few times.

Wami pretended to be painfully bent over, as if severely hit, then his eyes twinkled, and he laughed mischievously: “I dare not, I dare not! Princess, spare me!”

Everyone watching could not help but laugh, and the atmosphere instantly lightened considerably. Matthews also laughed more heartily, feeling that these moments were far more precious than anything else.

53
Ali's hurried footsteps echoed on the quiet streets of Chikan Village, and the dust on the street was stirred by the wind, while the low wooden houses cast long shadows under the setting sun. When he hurriedly reached the village entrance, Kalli was standing at the doorway waiting, his armor glinting faintly in the twilight. Seeing Ali, Kalli furrowed his brow and asked in surprise, "Ali, why are you back alone? At this time, you should be with Sharyun and Junsheng, shouldn't you?"

Ali's face was somewhat grave, and his breathing slightly hurried: "Kalli, the Junsheng couple have encountered trouble! I was planning to go report this matter to the headman."

Kalli's eyebrows immediately rose, a flicker of unease passing through his concerned eyes: "The Junsheng couple encountered trouble? Explain clearly, what happened?"

Ali took a deep breath, speaking with urgency: "The three of us left Xinguang Village and headed toward Madou Village. Just as we reached the village entrance, we were stopped by Walu and his group of brothers. Walu said that their headman Maya had ordered all foreigners to be detained; Junsheng is a foreigner, so he must stay. Sharyun insisted on accompanying him, so Junsheng told me to return first and report."

Veins bulged on Kalli's face, a flash of anger in his eyes, fists clenched, his voice low and stern: "This Walu is utterly outrageous! He dares to treat Junsheng like this? Does he not know that Junsheng is one of us from Chikan Village?"

Ali shook his head, speaking firmly: "He certainly knows, but he is only executing the headman's orders. I warned him on the spot that if he forcibly detains our people, he must pay the price for it."

Kalli's expression darkened, and he said angrily: "We must report to the headman immediately; we must go to Madou Village and get our people back!"

The two quickened their pace and arrived at Dabongya's residence. Ali hurriedly explained the whole chain of events: "Headman, this is exactly how things happened."

After hearing this, Dabongya kept a calm expression and spoke evenly: "From what I hear, Maya probably does not intend to treat Junsheng as a hostage. First, Junsheng went for a medical tour, not for business; second, Junsheng is Sharyun’s husband, our son-in-law from Chikan Village. My relationship with Maya is deep; she would not intentionally make things difficult for us."

Kalli's worry did not fully dissipate; he spoke in a low voice: "Headman, regarding this tax increase event, Madou Village and several other northern communities have united to resist the taxes, and they have detained all foreigners. This situation already puts us at odds with them. If Junsheng is also captured now, it clearly shows they are disregarding Chikan Village. I believe we should immediately go to Madou Village and bring Junsheng and Sharyun back."

Dabongya nodded, speaking in a steady tone: "We cannot handle this matter rashly. If Maya does not intend to treat Junsheng as a hostage, then we should not recklessly march in and demand accountability; that would only harm the friendship between us and her."

At this time, Li Qinghua spoke from the side: "Dabongya, I have a somewhat different opinion."

Dabongya turned to look at him: "Husband, please speak."

Li Qinghua slightly furrowed his brow, speaking thoughtfully: "We have a deep friendship with Headman Maya. She would not detain Junsheng without reason. But what I worry about is that if this joint tax-resistance action spirals out of control, and a conflict occurs with the authorities, Junsheng and Sharyun, being in Madou Village, could become innocent victims."

Dabongya silently nodded after hearing this, her tone becoming more resolute: "Yes, my husband is right. We cannot let Sharyun and her husband be trapped in such a dangerous situation."

Li Qinghua looked at Dabongya and smiled: "Why don’t the two of us go together and bring them back? After all, Chikan Village is safe."

Dabongya nodded in agreement: "Alright, Qinghua, I will follow your advice. Ali, go prepare the ox cart. After a brief preparation, we will depart."

Ali responded promptly: "Yes, Headman."

Kalli then spoke eagerly: "Headman, can I go with you?"

Dabongya slightly frowned: "Kalli, your temper is too hasty. If you want to go, you must accept my restraints and not act recklessly."

Kalli shivered in his heart, immediately bowing and cupping his hands: "Yes, Headman. I will remain calm and prepare now."

Dabongya smiled and nodded: "Good. Wait for me at the village entrance within half an hour."

Kalli and Ali saluted each other and parted ways. A few minutes later, Ali drove the ox cart to the Chikan Village entrance, seeing Kalli and the siblings Lalu standing there. They wore simple warrior outfits, with bows and arrows on their backs, long knives at their waists, and shields held in their hands, appearing particularly capable.

Ali frowned in puzzlement: "Kalli, why are you dressed like this? We’re not going to war."

Kalli chuckled, patting the shield on his back: "Better safe than sorry! If the others come at us forcefully, at least we have some ability to protect ourselves."

At this moment, Dabongya approached with a smile: "Kalli, why did you bring Lalu along as well?"

Kalli shrugged one shoulder: "Headman, no choice. She insisted on coming to rescue them when she heard Junsheng and Sharyun were captured."

Lalu lifted her chin slightly: "Headman, I am as close to Sharyun as a sister. How could I stand by if she encounters trouble? So I decided to come along."

Dabongya smiled and nodded: "Alright, since you insist, then come together. Get on the cart and sit beside me. Having company along the way will not be too boring."

Lalu, nimble and agile, leapt onto the ox cart in two steps and sat beside Dabongya. Dabongya smiled at her: "Lalu, with your skills, if you were a boy back then, how great that would have been. In the future, you will certainly become a brave warrior."

Lalu smiled, winking proudly: "My mother said the same thing!"

With the ringing of the ox cart bell, the group set off toward Madou Village in the north. Under the sunset, the shadow of the cart stretched long, as if vaguely foreshadowing the challenges that were about to come.

54
The scribe Bossman led Gandis, George, and Louis through the hall of the magistrate’s office. The reflections from the green tiles on the floor and the light and shadows from the paintings on the walls interwove, creating an atmosphere of solemnity and austerity. The air was filled with the musty scent of ancient wooden bookshelves and documents. Enormous windows let in the faint afternoon sunlight, casting a cold, empty light over everything. As they approached Chief Peter's office, Bossman stopped, signaling the three to wait.

The office door slowly opened. Peter stood behind the enormous oak desk, hands crossed on the desktop, his gaze stern, as if already aware of their purpose. Bossman spoke quietly: "Chief, the bishop and the two heads of the merchant associations."

Peter slightly waved his hand in acknowledgment. Bossman respectfully stepped back, then allowed the three to enter. Peter’s gaze did not waver as he said faintly, "Please sit."

Gandis spoke first, his tone carrying a trace of urgency: "Chief, the three of us have come specially regarding the official tax increase."

Peter remained seated steadily, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, but behind the smile, his eyes were cold. "I am aware of your purpose," he replied in a low voice, tinged with indifference. "Whether to raise taxes is the authority of the office; it seems inappropriate for you three to interfere."

George slightly furrowed his brows, lightly tapping the edge of the desk with his fingers, clearly feeling Peter’s indifference. He then spoke more firmly: "The official tax increase has caused strong resistance from the natives. Foreign merchants in this area are also affected. Not only is their freedom of movement restricted, but trade activities with the natives have halted due to native boycotts. We ask the Chief to reconsider, revoke the tax order, so the situation can ease, and trade activities can resume as soon as possible."

Peter’s gaze never shifted. After listening, he responded calmly: "My tax officers are in the hands of the natives; I do not want the situation to escalate. If the natives agree to release my subordinates, I am willing to sit down with them and negotiate calmly."

Louis, hearing this, showed a slight sense of relief. He leaned slightly forward and said in a low voice: "Since the Chief sincerely intends to resolve the issue, we hope this dispute can end peacefully."

Gandis, seeing the situation was not clear, became serious. He stepped forward, hands crossed on his chest, his tone heavier: "I have requested priests in each district to properly calm the emotions of the congregation. I, and all the clergy of the Dominican Order, do not wish this matter to affect foreign merchants. Chief, please restrain your subordinates. At this moment, the congregation must not be provoked further."

Peter slightly nodded, but his tone remained unchanged: "I will do my best! You three need not say more; I know how to handle this."

Peter waved his hand, his tone carrying a hint of unquestionable command: "Attendant, see them out."

Peter turned and left, leaving the three standing in the office, faces full of shock and frustration. Gandis’s brow was tightly furrowed, muttering under his breath: "You, Chief Peter, wield a lot of official power!"

Louis also frowned, his lips moving slightly, as if wanting to say more, but ultimately remained silent. George placed his hand on his forehead, feeling a sense of helpless frustration, and muttered: "He simply does not listen to our advice."

The attendant stood at the door, slightly bowing, with a tone of mild impatience: "The three of you, please leave? The Chief wishes to rest."

Gandis, furious, clenched his fists tightly and strode toward the door. He pushed it open sharply, his voice sounding particularly loud in the quiet magistrate's office. George and Louis followed, and the three walked out heavily, exchanging no words, silently moving toward the courtyard outside, each carrying deeper anger and resentment in their hearts.

55
Xiaolong Village was located in the forested hills by the lake, where Headman Douning’s residence stood quietly. Shadows of trees swayed in the courtyard, and a few bird calls pierced the afternoon silence. The wind blew from the valley, lifting the vine curtains hanging by the windows, and also stirring the light of a few swaying oil lamps inside, foreshadowing some uncertain fate.

Inside, there was a reception hall built with dark wood. On the walls hung deer antlers and totems representing tribal glory. The floor was covered with animal-skin carpets, and several woven baskets and clay jars were placed in the corners. Headman Douning wore a deep red woven robe, sitting in a low rattan chair, his expression calm and composed. Imena stood beside him, hands clasped before her, her expression serious.

Urgent footsteps sounded from outside the door as the scribe Bossman entered, accompanied by Makawu. The crisp sound of Bossman’s military boots on the wooden floor echoed. Though a slight smile was on his face, his eyes were alert. After greeting, his tone carried a formal, mission-oriented quality:
"Headman, this is a letter written to you by Chief Peter."

Makawu respectfully took the letter with both hands and turned to present it to Headman Douning. Douning received it, slightly nodding, his fingers skillfully opening the envelope and unfolding the letter.

The room fell silent except for the sound of rustling paper.

Douning’s eyes scanned the letter back and forth; the lines of his face softened gradually as he read, and finally a rare smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He lifted his head, his voice steady and clear:
"Since the office shows goodwill, I will immediately release Pias and his attendants for you to take away."

He gently placed the letter on the table, turning to Makawu to give instructions: "Take this reply letter and immediately notify each village, telling them to release the foreign merchants’ agents and missionaries in the village. This time, we are willing to step back first, leaving Peter without words."

Makawu clenched his right fist, crossing his arms in acknowledgment: "Yes, Headman." Then he turned to Bossman, speaking calmly: "Mr. Bossman, please follow me; we are going to receive the people."

Bossman slightly bowed, his expression carrying a hint of relief: "Thank you for your wisdom and tolerance, Headman."

The two turned and left, their footsteps fading, the wooden door softly closing, and the reception hall regained its silence.

Imena looked toward the doorway, her eyes flashing with some relief. She turned to Douning, her tone admiring with a touch of ease: "Sena, your method really works; the office finally revoked the order."

Douning, however, did not show much joy. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his fingertips tapping the table, his tone pensive: "No, it is too early. We must wait for the office to officially announce the revocation of the tax order for this matter to be settled. Otherwise… these are merely empty promises."

He paused, gazing at the swaying curtain in the distance, as if anticipating a deeper storm.
"I worry that their concession this time is not because they recognize our demands, but because the hostages are still in our hands. If one day they feel no need to care…," Douning paused, his voice low, "they could turn against us and deny everything."

Imena frowned, her tone now carrying more caution: "If the office’s words are not trustworthy, the villagers of the communities will no longer believe them. They themselves will lose authority."

Douning shook his head slowly, speaking softly: "Authority like that, they do not maintain with trust, but with the military."

He turned his body, eyes sharp, looking through the wall toward Fort Zeelandia in the distance: "The office has the army. If they decide to be forceful and attack… then at that time, a bloody battle between both sides will truly be unavoidable."

Imena’s expression changed slightly, her tone somewhat uneasy: "Surely the office would not do that, right? Peter is willing to make concessions, perhaps to avoid war."

Douning did not answer immediately. He stood, walked to the table, and began writing letters with pen and ink. His voice was low but firm:
"We cannot gamble on ‘it probably won’t happen.’ Imena, I will write several letters. You give them to Makawu, have him deliver them to each village head. Tell them that while releasing hostages, they must also start deploying defensive measures. Appear reconciled on the surface, but remain vigilant in their hearts."

Imena silently nodded, taking the letters he handed over, her gaze steady.

The wind outside intensified, as if a distant storm was brewing. This land, seemingly calm, was in fact surging with hidden currents.