Phnom Penh Past

Phnom Penh, the residence of the Kuan Kim-kit family.

Around a square table sat the most powerful Chenla people in the country. To the left sat the Director of the Internal Affairs Office, Xie Su, and the Director of Punishments, Deng Changbu.

To the right sat the Director of Trade, Kuan Kim-kit, and the Director of Foreign Affairs, Kuan Kim-pan.

Sitting at the head of the table, facing south and draped in purple robes, was the elder named Palasu, the Grand Chancellor and Haraj of Chenla.

Opposite the elder sat Hong Buf, the Grand Commander of the Imperial Guard of Chenla.

Palasu spoke first.

"Since we are all gathered here today, I will spare you the pleasantries. The Vietnamese have never abandoned their desire to destroy our Chenla. Under the guise of suppressing rebellions, they are effectively thinning our population, razing our cities, and plundering our people. The entire clan of the Governor of Svay Rieng, Kiriha, has been wiped out. If we continue to let the Vietnamese run wild, Kiriha's fate today will be our fate tomorrow."

The Director of Punishments, Deng Changbu, slammed the table and sighed helplessly.

"Where is the law? Where is justice? Does Nguyen Viet not fear the manifestation of the Buddha and the retribution of karma?"

Most people in the regions of Chenla and Vietnam believe in Buddhism.

The Director of the Internal Affairs Office, Xie Su, deeply detested Deng Changbu's weakness and distrusted Kuan Kim-pan, so he spoke up.

"At a time like this, you still count on the Buddha to manifest? We had better figure out how to save ourselves. Lord Kuan Kim-pan, are these Western barbarians reliable? Are they not just the French, the running dogs of the Vietnamese, disguised to trick us?"

The French had once funded the Vietnamese, but after the Vietnamese grew powerful, they began to suppress the French at every turn, leading the Chenla people to mistakenly believe the French were subjects of the Vietnamese.

"No, their language is different, and I have heard from Western merchants that the Austrians are the sworn enemies of the French," Kuan Kim-pan replied.

Xie Su naturally understood the principle that the enemy of an enemy is a friend, and continued to ask.

"Are their firearms truly that formidable? How do they compare to our matchlocks?"

The Grand Commander of the Imperial Guard, Hong Buf, said.

"Formidable! Compared to the new Western rifles, our matchlocks are nothing but fire-starting sticks. The new rifles are fast, accurate, and powerful; even rattan armor under iron plating is useless against them. The best part is that they are not afraid of dampness and never fail to ignite."

The climate in Chenla is hot and humid, causing the fuses of matchlock guns to dampen easily, which severely impacts their firing.

By this era, flintlock guns had been developed for centuries, and the granulated black powder brought by Ambrosius was far superior to traditional black powder dust.

Granulated powder consists of grains, so even when compressed by a ramrod, they do not stick together, whereas black powder dust is highly likely to turn into a clump under the combined effects of force and humidity.

The gaps between the granules facilitate oxygen flow to aid combustion, making the burn rate more uniform and increasing the efficiency of the powder's combustion.

When firing, powder-based gunpowder often results in a significant portion of unburnt powder being blown out of the barrel, so the power of the granulated version is greatly increased.

However, the officials of Chenla did not understand this.

Although Xie Su was unwilling, he trusted Hong Buf, the Grand Commander of the Imperial Guard. If not for this commander, the powerful clans of Phnom Penh would have long since been wiped out by Zhang Mingjiang.

Zhang Mingjiang was a trusted general of Emperor Minh Mang of Vietnam, appointed by him as the Governor of Chenla to implement a policy of extermination and assimilation.

The elder in the center spoke again.

"But at one hundred taels of silver per piece, it is simply too expensive. No matter how good the barbarian weapons are, we cannot afford to buy them. If we only purchase a few thousand, I fear it will be of little use; Nguyen Viet has an army of one hundred thousand."

"His Excellency Ambrosius has three conditions."

"Let's hear them."

"Grant them a township of land to reside in; I have already arranged for this to be done."

"Hmm, not bad. Our Chenla is vast and rich in resources; never mind a township, even a county would be acceptable." The elder nodded; he did not see any issue with granting Chenla's land to foreigners to live on, as long as they paid taxes.

"They also hope to build a church to worship their ancestors."

"Homesickness and ancestor worship are human nature; it seems these Western barbarians are not entirely uncultured."

"Their leader wishes to meet Her Highness the Princess."

"Outrageous! How dare these barbarians be so insolent! This is the height of absurdity; is the face of a Princess something these foreign savages can look upon?" The elder was so angry his hair and beard stood on end.

However, the others present were not as indignant.

"Right now, His Majesty Ang Chan is still in the hands of the Vietnamese. If we can welcome His Majesty back, never mind a meeting with the Princess, even offering the Princesses for a political marriage would not be out of the question," said the Director of Trade, Kuan Kim-kit, who had been silent until now.

Grand Chancellor Palasu wanted to rebuke this man who lacked all sense of propriety, but everyone around him remained silent, seemingly tacitly agreeing with Kuan Kim-kit.

Palasu thought about it and realized that with the country on the verge of collapse, such rituals were useless.

"If we agree to these three conditions, how much cheaper can they make it?"

"Thirty taels," Kuan Kim-pan replied.

The elder pondered for a moment and then said.

"Tell them we can grant them a county of land. But the rifles must be sold to us for fifty taels each."

"I will do my utmost, and I will not fail the Chancellor or Chenla," Kuan Kim-pan replied righteously.

Night, Phnom Penh, Dongqiao Restaurant.

"Now, I ask everyone to contribute their wealth and strength to overcome this national crisis together," Palasu raised his wine cup, drained it, and said, "I am the Chancellor of Chenla, so I will start; I pledge two hundred thousand taels."

Two hundred thousand taels was an incredibly large sum in Chenla. One must know that under the exploitation of the Vietnamese, the annual revenue of the Chenla treasury was only thirty to fifty thousand taels of silver, not even enough to pay the salaries of soldiers and officials. (At this time, the Qing Dynasty revenue was 40 million taels.)

Palasu had truly brought out his entire fortune, but because the figure was so staggering, there was silence for a long time. Everyone's arms grew numb from holding their cups, and they looked at each other, waiting for the next person to declare their pledge.

Kuan Kim-pan could not take it anymore and drained his wine in one gulp.

"I am willing to contribute ten thousand taels of silver and ten thousand hu of rice."

Although Kuan Kim-pan was a second-rank official in Chenla and the Kuan Kim family was a powerful clan, this figure was truly substantial for his family.

Following this, Kuan Kim-kit also drained his wine in one gulp.

"I am the same as my elder brother: ten thousand taels of silver and ten thousand hu of rice."

After speaking, Kuan Kim-kit and Kuan Kim-pan embraced and wept bitterly, for this was nearly all the liquid assets their family possessed; any more would require selling off their ancestral property.

Afterward, Xie Su, the Superintendent of the Internal Affairs Office, was willing to contribute 5,000 taels, and Hong Buf, the Grand Commander of the Imperial Guard, offered 1,000 taels.

What followed was absurd. These merchants, officials, landlords, and gentry—one gave two hundred, another three hundred—but the most outrageous was Deng Changbu, the Chief of Penalties, who only offered 50 taels.

This infuriated Palasu, as Deng Changbu would take more than 200 taels in a single bribe. Trembling, he spoke.

"You pack of parasites! With the state of the nation in such decline, if you cannot take to the battlefield to slay the enemy, are you unwilling to even contribute a portion of your wealth? Deng Changbu! As the Chief of Penalties, how can you only offer fifty taels!"

Deng Changbu had his reasons and replied with utter disdain.

"My annual salary should be one hundred and fifty taels, yet now they only pay me twenty taels a year. I have been an official for seventeen years; the nation of Chenla still owes me two thousand two hundred taels."

Palasu was so enraged he nearly fainted; he deeply understood the helplessness felt by Chongzhen back in his day.

I would like to thank book friends Yanhuo Daofan, Mr. So-so, Tal Rasha Mage, and Xiao Yanr for their tips, as well as book friends Yanhuo Daofan, Yan Wang Cser, Yu Qi, OAA Likes American Comics, and Xiao Yanr for their monthly tickets, along with the support of all my readers.

The current pacing of the book might be a bit slow; is there a need to accelerate it?