Chapter 59: Ambush
"No need for that—we're all friends here, right, Li-ge?"
"Don't try to cozy up to me." Li Jun fished out a piece of gum to use as a makeshift toothbrush, swatting away Wei Aiwen's grabbing hand. "You're already in your early twenties—two years older than I was when I enlisted in the mobile unit. Sleeping when you're supposed to be on watch? In the army, your squad leader would've beaten you senseless. And you have the nerve to complain?"
"That's different—we're not in the army..."
"Bullshit. The Committee treats us exactly like the army. Didn't you tell Xi Yazhou and Beiwei that your greatest dream was to become a soldier and fight in combat? And here you are, sleeping on duty." He let out a derisive chuckle.
"Shh—quiet! Something's happening!" Beiwei waved them down. The two men crawled over and crouched at the edge of the hollow.
The morning mist was gradually dispersing. On the postal road outside the city, figures had begun to appear—twos and threes carrying shoulder poles, driving pigs, cattle, chickens, and ducks, the elderly supported on one side and children carried on the other, all streaming toward the town.
"Why are they going in?" Wei Aiwen found the steady flow of people strange. "Is it market day?"
"Refugees. They're fleeing into the city for safety."
"Refugees? Are the Japanese coming?"
Beiwei couldn't follow Wei's logic at all. "Japanese? Why would there be Japanese here?"
"Didn't the Ming have wokou pirates all the time..."
"These people are fleeing from us." Li Yunxing watched the ragged, indistinct figures moving along the road, and a chill ran through him. Can we really communicate with these Ming subjects of 1628?
"But we haven't done anything wrong." Wei's thinking remained stubbornly modern.
"They probably already believe we're green-faced, fanged monsters who eat children and molest grandmothers..."
Just then, the people on the road scattered to either side. A procession came down the path—a cluster of men surrounding three hand-pushed two-wheeled carts. At the front strode a man wearing an iron helmet and armor, a long saber at his waist. A military officer.
"Looks like Ming soldiers." Beiwei spoke while counting heads as they passed. One, five, ten...
Excluding the leader, there were thirty men in total, plus the two handcarts. Mixed in with the fleeing crowd, they were difficult to observe clearly. The cargo remained unknown, but judging from the number of men pushing and their labored postures, the loads were heavy.
"Definitely Ming soldiers—they're all armed." Through his binoculars, Li Yunxing could see that the group looked reasonably well-equipped, though only three or four wore armor. The better-off ones had helmets. Each man carried a long spear.
The carts came into clearer view. The first held an iron cannon, dark and indistinct—probably around the three-pounder level. The carts behind carried boxes and ceramic jars, likely ammunition.
"Wei, take photos!"
Wei Aiwen raised his digital camera and used the telephoto lens for a continuous burst—the column, soldiers, cannon, plus close-ups of the commanding officer and the armored soldiers' faces.
"Look!" Li Yunxing suddenly cried out, loud enough to startle everyone. "A foreigner!"
Beiwei adjusted his view. Indeed, at the rear of the column walked a disheveled foreigner. His brown hair was conspicuous. His hands were bound behind his back with rope, and he stumbled along barefoot, shins bloody, wearing half a fisherman's straw cape. A soldier behind kept prodding him with a spear to hurry him forward.
Merchant? Missionary? Pirate? A cascade of questions flashed through Beiwei's mind. Seeing foreigners along the Ming-era Guangdong and Fujian coasts wasn't unusual, but how had this one been captured and brought all the way to Lingao? Was he a foreign pirate?
"Get me Command on the radio."
At sunrise, the Ming family and the Sino-American special-agent trio had gathered on the beach outside the camp gate, utterly bewildered.
After breakfast, Xiao Zishan—who had spent hours babbling about the Ming Dynasty—had returned. The Ming family, thoroughly sick of his ranting, assumed he'd come to spout more nonsense. Instead, he politely announced they were being released.
Before they could process what was happening, a launch ferried them and their luggage ashore.
The beach camp, the ships in the harbor, vehicles and machinery racing across the sand, soldiers with rifles—it all seemed surreal. These bandits were incredibly bold. If not for the bay, the family would have assumed they'd reached the legendary Golden Triangle.
"See, all your luggage is here—completely untouched. You're welcome to check it." Xiao Zishan smiled graciously at the still-dazed family.
Ming Langzhen bent to unzip the luggage but was stopped by his mother, who returned Xiao Zishan's smile. "We trust you, we trust you."
"What is this place? If you're dumping us here, the least you can do is tell us where we are." The pretty policewoman spoke up.
The elder quickly cut off her daughter-in-law. "No need, no need. Young comrade, just tell us which direction leads to a highway. This place looks too desolate—we need some direction to walk."
"Ma'am, I told you yesterday—this is Bopu Port in Lingao County. That river is the Wenlan River. There is no highway. Follow the river upstream and you'll soon reach the county seat—only it's the Ming Dynasty county seat." Even Xiao Zishan felt he was talking like a madman.
The old man snorted. "Bopu? Why not just say this is New York?"
"Look—I'm not lying." Xiao Zishan gestured toward the beacon tower. "That's Lingao's beacon tower. Beyond that is Lingao Cape. Old sir, you served in Hainan—you should recognize this place."
"Lingao Cape? Then where's the lighthouse? Where's the Liberation Memorial—did you people eat it?"
(Note: Lingao Cape's two landmarks: the Guangxu-era Customs lighthouse and the Liberation of Hainan Landing Memorial.)
"This is 1628—our great People's Liberation Army hasn't come to liberate Hainan yet."
The old man looked disdainful, about to say more, but his wife nudged him into silence.
"Fine, Bopu it is. Thank you—we'll be on our way now. Please head back." The old lady smoothed things over. Xiao Zishan just smiled. When Guo Yi's group was brought over as well, he said:
"This is Comrade Guo from Public Security X Department. He happens to be escorting two foreign guests. You can all travel together—better to look after each other."
The Ming family tensed, unable to guess what Xiao Zishan was plotting. As for Guo Yi and company—they found this family equally baffling. That morning, Ran Yao's men had brought them off the ship. The entire way, Guo Yi had assumed they were being taken somewhere to be eliminated: first expecting a bullet in the back on deck, then preparing to be fed to the fish from the launch, then facing a firing squad on the beach. Instead, he found an intergenerational family standing there with all their boxes and bags.
"Guo, just travel with Elder Ming's family along the river to Lingao County." Xiao Zishan watched the two groups eye each other with mutual distrust, secretly amused. Yu Eshui was truly devious. But thinking about what this group might encounter on the road to Lingao, his amusement faded. Hopefully, everyone would make it through safely.
Seeing their heavy luggage, Xiao Zishan called over a beach farm truck to take them to the riverbank.
"This is as far as we go." He made one last sincere attempt. "This is seventeenth-century Hainan... so..." But by then he was speaking to seven retreating backs, already moving away at full speed.
Since both groups harbored deep suspicions—each convinced the other had been planted by the bandits—they walked in silence at first. Then the Ming family gradually fell behind.
"Silly boy, why are you walking so fast?"
"I'm not tired..." Ming Lang didn't understand why his mother was upset. The path wasn't great, but it was mostly flat. He was young—carrying a suitcase didn't tire him out.
She glanced at the three figures ahead. "Slow down—we have more luggage..."
Ming Lang understood then—Mom wanted distance from those people. So the family slowed their pace, gradually falling further back.
Guo Yi's group had little luggage, and all three were law enforcement—their pace was naturally quick. Seeing the family fall further behind actually pleased them. Guo Yi touched his regained Type-64 pistol. Though he couldn't quite fathom these bandits' reasoning, at least they had escaped their clutches. Their current location remained unknown, but along the way they'd seen signs of human activity—this couldn't be some remote wasteland. Soon they would find inhabited areas; people meant communication; communication meant contacting the organization.
"Old Xue, what do you make of this?" His mood lighter, he asked Xue Ziliang, who walked beside him. The burly man carried an enormous backpack but moved easily through the rocks and weeds.
"No idea." The ABC shrugged. "Maybe they didn't want to offend American law enforcement."
Bullshit. Guo Yi thought this American—regardless of his Chinese face—had truly forgotten his roots after just two generations. That self-important expression grated on his nerves.
"Xue, that's a pretty thoughtless thing to say."
"So what now? We don't even know where we are. By the way, did he say we're in... Linshi?"
"Lingao. A county in Hainan Province."
Clearly, Xue Ziliang had no concept of Chinese geography—he actually asked if it was Chinese territory. Nearly falling over, Xiao Guo had to give him a brief geography lesson.
"But it might not be true, right?" Xue Ziliang said.
"Probably not. If we were really in Lingao, with all that commotion back there, the police station would have shown up long ago. And our phones wouldn't have zero signal."
"Exactly. Guo—" Xue Ziliang walked and talked. "We don't even know the basic situation around us. How can we speculate? Let's just find some people first."
The terrain rose gradually—not dramatically. They were climbing a gentle slope. The land showed signs of cultivation everywhere—traces of human activity. Occasional small rice paddies lay by the river, irrigation channels dug into the bank. Beyond that stretched endless wild grass and weeds, some growing taller than a person. Few large trees stood in sight—just scrub woods and bushes. The river flowed on beside them, looking quite clear.
"Let's rest a bit." A rumbling sound came from ahead. Xue Ziliang suggested: "Salina isn't feeling well."
"Really? Caught a cold?" Guo Yi sat down and pulled out his Type-64, eager to check the weapon's condition. The bandits returning his pistol had been unexpected. Whatever their motive, it spared him considerable trouble—losing a service weapon was a serious matter.
"No, it's not—" Xue Ziliang started to say something.
Suddenly, the urgent clanging of gongs erupted from the grass. All three froze. Then over a dozen arrows flew from the grass and trees!
(End of Chapter)