One year earlier—Daoguang Year 17.
Lin Zexu, newly appointed Governor-General of Huguang, had reached a firm conclusion.
If opium—this cursed substance—was allowed to spread unchecked, it would slowly rot the Qing Empire from within.
Although Huguang did not conduct direct trade with Britain like the Liangguang region did, opium had already spread deep into the province.
Lin Zexu took a hardline stance.
He strictly enforced anti-opium measures throughout the region, and the results were immediate.
His success did not go unnoticed in Beijing.
The Emperor himself acknowledged Lin Zexu's achievements.
Lin Zexu was not like the typical central officials born into wealthy families who rose smoothly through the ranks.
His father had repeatedly failed the imperial examinations and never enjoyed a prosperous life.
Even so, he did everything he could to give his son the opportunity to study.
Lin Zexu worked tirelessly to repay that sacrifice.
On his third attempt, he finally passed the jinshi examination and began his career at the Hanlin Academy in Beijing.
Even after passing the exams, he never stopped studying.
Over the years, he served in many provinces, steadily building a reputation as a capable and diligent official.
He had not risen through sudden fortune.
Nor through prodigious genius.
In that sense, Lin Zexu was not the sort of once-in-a-generation genius who shook the world.
But the solid foundation he had built through decades of work made him exceptional in another way.
He cared deeply about the lives of ordinary people.
And when problems like opium emerged, he responded faster and more decisively than any other governor.
The proof of that success lay in the imperial edict now held in his hands.
"Governor-General Lin Zexu of Huguang is hereby appointed Imperial Commissioner and transferred to serve as Governor-General of Liangguang.Eradicate completely the scourge of opium that is poisoning the nation."
Governor-General of Liangguang.
The official responsible for Guangdong and Guangxi—the very regions centered around Guangzhou where foreign trade was permitted.
And in addition to that, he now held the title of Imperial Commissioner, granting him full authority from the Emperor on this matter.
In effect, from this moment onward, Qing policy toward Britain rested in the hands of one man.
Lin Zexu.
Yet despite this enormous authority, Lin Zexu did not feel particularly lighthearted.
Originally, he had expected six months of preparation before assuming his new duties.
But circumstances had changed abruptly.
His predecessor, Deng Tingzhen, had resigned from the post of governor-general for personal reasons.
As a result, Lin Zexu had been forced to depart for Guangzhou with almost no preparation.
The reason was obvious.
The situation had become too volatile.
The men selling opium were scoundrels.
But Britain—Yingjili—was not a nation that could be dismissed lightly.
Merchants and travelers alike spoke of the Western powers.
Among them, Britain stood out as one of the strongest.
Still, the barbarians lived half a year away by sailing ship.
Governor Deng Tingzhen had simply followed the Emperor's orders.
He cracked down on opium relentlessly and ignored whatever complaints British merchants or officials made.
After all, whether to allow trade or ban opium was Qing's sovereign right.
There was nothing wrong with that.
The problem was something else entirely.
What if the barbarians became enraged and caused trouble?
What if they actually came to war?
Surely the Great Qing Empire could not possibly lose to Western barbarians.
But even so…
The Qing was not in a position to wage a prolonged war.
War itself would already be a burden.
And if the conflict went badly, the governor-general would bear the blame for diplomatic failure.
No—he would definitely bear the blame.
And the fact that Britain had sent such a high-ranking representative meant they were serious.
From Deng Tingzhen's perspective, the decision was simple.
He was already stepping down.
Why shoulder even more responsibility?
The next governor would arrive soon anyway.
Why risk drowning in the mess himself?
Unfortunately, that mess had now landed squarely in Lin Zexu's lap.
Lin Zexu rubbed his temples.
"…My head aches already."
He looked toward his aide.
"First things first. Is it certain that the British minister wishes to meet?"
"Yes, Governor-General. He requested a meeting to discuss future trade and diplomatic policy. The previous governor told them to speak with the incoming governor instead."
"Remarkable skill at passing the burden."
Lin Zexu sighed.
"But is this minister truly a high-ranking official? I heard he's very young."
"The position translates roughly to 'Foreign Secretary.' Apparently it is an extremely senior office."
"We don't have an exact equivalent, since Qing has no single ministry overseeing all diplomacy… but it might correspond to the Minister of Rites or the head of the Court of Colonial Affairs."
Qing diplomacy worked differently from Western systems.
Relations with tributary states like Joseon were handled by the Ministry of Rites.
Affairs concerning Mongolia, Xinjiang, or Russia were handled by the Court of Colonial Affairs.
Meanwhile, relations with Western merchants trading through Guangzhou were handled locally by the governor-general.
This structure reflected Qing's worldview.
Foreign relations were not conducted between equal nations.
They were structured through the tributary system.
But that did not mean Qing could treat other countries carelessly.
As the center of civilization—the Son of Heaven's realm—Qing had a duty to treat visiting envoys with proper courtesy.
If a foreign state was received, its representatives must be treated with dignity.
This British minister was no exception.
Whether he corresponded to a minister of rites or a governor-general hardly mattered.
He was clearly a top-ranking official.
And he had traveled half a year across the ocean.
Refusing to meet him would be improper.
Still, Lin Zexu could not shake a lingering concern.
He did not know the British minister's true intentions.
But if one wished to capture a tiger…
One had to enter the tiger's den.
Besides, this was Qing territory.
The initiative was firmly in their hands.
And the British minister was said to be young.
Likely inexperienced.
With careful handling, perhaps he could be persuaded to abandon the opium trade altogether.
It was an optimistic thought.
But Lin Zexu had reason for confidence.
Unlike the foreigners, he had studied British law and culture beforehand.
In negotiations, information was power.
Yet the confidence he had carefully rebuilt collapsed in an instant.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the young Westerner said politely.
"My name is Killian Gore, Foreign Secretary of the British Empire. I have long heard of the distinguished reputation of Governor-General Lin Zexu of Huguang."
The words were spoken in fluent Beijing Mandarin.
Lin Zexu blinked in shock.
"Ah… ah… I see."
He cleared his throat.
"You speak our language… very well."
"Yes," Killian replied calmly.
"So there will be no need for interpreters between us. Even the best interpreters introduce small distortions into conversation. I believe direct communication will allow for more honest negotiations."
"That… is true," Lin Zexu admitted.
"But our countries have not interacted so extensively. How did you learn our language so well?"
"I spent part of my childhood in Asia," Killian said.
"So I speak not only Qing's language, but also Korean and Japanese."
"That is one reason someone as young as myself was entrusted with this mission. Our government believes that many of the misunderstandings between our nations stem from cultural ignorance."
There was something about a foreigner speaking one's native language fluently that instinctively inspired goodwill.
Learning another country's language required great effort.
And when someone did so sincerely, it naturally earned respect.
Within moments, Lin Zexu felt that this young man was different from the British barbarians he had encountered before.
"If you lived in Asia as a child," Lin Zexu asked carefully, "does that mean you come from a merchant family?"
"No."
Killian smiled faintly.
"To be precise, I did not live in Qing territory."
"I was born in Joseon."
"…Joseon?"
Lin Zexu stared.
A Western aristocrat…
Born in Joseon?
Looking at him, he seemed no different from other Westerners.
But now that he looked more closely…
There was something slightly different.
"Are you saying you are Korean?" Lin Zexu asked cautiously.
"No," Killian replied.
"I was simply born there and spent part of my childhood there. But that experience allowed me to learn much about Eastern languages and culture."
"You learned all this merely from childhood exposure?"
"I suppose I have a natural talent for languages."
Indeed, Killian's Mandarin sounded nothing like the clumsy speech of typical interpreters.
His phrasing was unusual at times.
But it was clearly not something learned through ordinary channels.
Lin Zexu sighed in amazement.
"This is quite surprising. Still, it is reassuring that someone familiar with our language and customs has come as your representative."
"If you truly grew up in Joseon, then you must understand the order that governs this world."
Joseon had long recognized Qing as the Son of Heaven's realm.
It paid tribute and acknowledged Qing supremacy.
In return, Qing treated Joseon as a semi-autonomous state.
Some Confucian scholars even believed Joseon preserved traditional values better than parts of Qing itself.
Lin Zexu, like most officials, saw Joseon as an important tributary state.
Not equal—but significant.
"Yes," Killian said calmly.
"I understand it well. Many past conflicts between our countries came from cultural misunderstandings."
"But I intend to respect Qing customs completely."
"If the Son of Heaven is willing to receive me, I would gladly perform the appropriate rites."
Lin Zexu raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Your previous envoy insisted Westerners would never kneel on both knees before anyone."
"That is true," Killian replied.
"Even before our king, we kneel on one knee only. That is our custom."
"But we also have a saying: When in Rome, follow Roman law."
"Rome," he added casually, "was a Western empire somewhat like the Tang dynasty."
"In other words, one should respect the customs of the place one visits."
Lin Zexu studied him carefully.
The reference to the Tang dynasty felt natural.
Perhaps he truly was familiar with Eastern culture.
"So you are saying you will follow our customs?"
"Of course."
"I hope our two nations can build a mutually beneficial relationship. That is why I came here personally."
"Good."
Lin Zexu nodded.
"Then our position is simple."
"We will not allow opium into our country under any circumstances."
"Respect our decision, and normal trade may resume."
Killian spread his hands slightly.
"I would like to agree. However, the opium confiscated by the previous governor caused enormous losses for our merchants."
"My government wishes to resolve that issue before normalizing relations."
"I cannot ignore their concerns entirely."
Lin Zexu felt a surge of irritation.
Calling the loss of confiscated narcotics "financial damage" was absurd.
But this was their first meeting.
And this young minister seemed more reasonable than the others he had dealt with.
"…Very well," Lin Zexu said finally.
"We understand each other's positions. Let us continue discussions another time."
"Of course."
"I will prepare additional materials for our next meeting."
Killian bowed politely and withdrew.
Lin Zexu watched him leave thoughtfully.
Was it because he was young?
Or because he truly understood Eastern etiquette?
Either way…
Lin Zexu immediately summoned his most trusted aide.
"Shengyuan."
"Yes, Governor-General."
"Send a courier to Beijing immediately."
"The British minister Killian Gore claims he was born in Joseon."
"Request that Joseon provide all information they have about him."
"Yes. I will request information on the man called Ji Li An Ge Er."
"At such a young age, he has already become a minister. He must come from a powerful aristocratic family."
"Perhaps his family has ties with prominent Joseon noble houses or wealthy merchants."
"That will be the best place to investigate."
Joseon supposedly did not trade with Westerners.
Yet perhaps they had secret dealings.
Whatever the truth was, Lin Zexu needed more information.
With Qing's courier system, messages could travel quickly from Guangzhou to Beijing—and then to the Joseon border.
Killian seemed reasonable.
But Lin Zexu would not lower his guard.
If you knew your enemy and knew yourself…
You would never lose.
And so Lin Zexu decided to reexamine everything about Britain—and about Killian Gore.
From the beginning.
"Minister! How did it go?"
"What did the new governor say?"
William Jardine and his partner James Matheson rushed toward me the moment I stepped outside.
"They say he's even tougher than the previous governor."
"As expected," I replied calmly.
"He's far stricter than Deng Tingzhen. His determination to ban opium is absolute."
"Then what do we do?"
"Isn't that the worst possible situation for us?"
What had they expected?
That Lin Zexu would laugh and immediately reopen the opium trade?
"Don't worry," I said.
"I already have a plan."
"However, the governor himself is too stubborn to influence directly."
"So we'll aim somewhere else."
"Somewhere else…?"
"According to my information," I continued,
"there's an official named Yuan Shengyuan under Lin Zexu. He's one of Lin's trusted aides."
"We'll approach him."
Jardine frowned.
"If Lin trusts him, wouldn't he be just as rigid?"
"We tried bribing people around the previous governor. It didn't work."
"Don't worry," I said.
"I intend to use a different method."
"All I need is for you to arrange a meeting between my man and his."
"Understood," Jardine said quickly.
"We'll use every connection we have—even bribery if necessary."
Their previous attempts had failed for obvious reasons.
Anyone close enough to advise the governor would naturally share his views on opium.
And anyone corrupt enough to accept bribes would never hold real influence.
Naturally, I had no intention of convincing Lin's people that opium was harmless.
No one with a brain would believe that nonsense.
But there was another approach.
Instead of saying:
"British opium is harmless."
I could say:
"British opium is a threat so great it could destroy the entire celestial order."
Creating fear was far easier than persuasion.
After all…
I had no intention of continuing the opium trade.
Nor did I intend to resolve this crisis peacefully.
So why not sit back and watch?
Let's see how fiercely an aging dragon breathes fire when someone strikes its reverse scale.