Chapter 497 - Penetrating Qiongshan

Lin Baiguang had entrusted the two agents with a generous operational budget, a deliberate test of their judgment. Would a sudden windfall lead to profligacy, or would they demonstrate the prudence required of intelligence operatives?

Acquiring safe houses, gathering intelligence, managing operational funds—these skills had been drilled into them during training. But the classroom was one thing; the field was another. This mission would prove whether they could translate theory into practice.

After briefing them on their objectives, Lin Baiguang conducted a preliminary reconnaissance of the area. He scouted the environments within and without the prefectural city, the vicinity of the Haikou Qianhu Garrison, and observed the Baisha Naval Camp from a distance to assess Haikou’s defensive infrastructure.

By the standards of the seventeenth century, Haikou’s defenses were formidable. Lin Baiguang’s career had been in the civil service; while he had some familiarity with historical texts like the Comprehensive Mirror in Aid of Governance, he had never possessed a deep interest in military minutiae. However, the necessities of the post-D-Day world had compelled him to study, granting him a functional understanding of Ming military affairs.

The Baisha Naval Camp was not an isolated outpost; it maintained subsidiary encampments at Dongying and Mangliao harbors. These positions formed a mutually supporting triangle around Shenying Harbor. When combined with the Haikou Rear Qianhu Garrison and the numerous fortifications guarding the west and south of the prefectural city, they created a comprehensive defensive network for Qiongzhou.

The area surrounding Shenying Harbor and the Rear Qianhu Garrison was bristling with beacon towers, watchtowers, and earthworks. Patrol boats crisscrossed the waters while chevaux-de-frise lined the shores, and sentries patrolled with visible diligence. It was a rigorous defense, fitting for Haikou’s status as the island’s military hub and a linchpin of coastal security.

Yet, to Lin Baiguang’s eye, breaching this network with the transmigrators' current military capabilities would be trivial. By the time their five-year plan matured, taking this city would be child's play.

The brick-and-stone emplacements were numerous but armed mostly with antiquated Portuguese-style breech-loading swivel guns. The rest of the arsenal was even more archaic: "crouching tiger" cannons, bowl-mouth mortars, and bamboo-jointed pieces that belonged in a museum. Modern Western artillery was scarce. It seemed the Ming government’s military modernization efforts in Guangdong had yet to trickle down to Hainan.

Even if these fortifications were redesigned by the era’s finest European engineers and bristling with "red barbarian" cannons, they would still crumble before the transmigrators' firepower.

After a full day of inspection, Lin Baiguang was confident. Seizing Hainan was not the challenge; the true difficulty lay in the lack of administrative personnel and garrisons to hold it. Conquest without consolidation would be a hollow victory.

Returning to the temple, he drafted his first report to Lingao. He proposed designated the Qiongzhou intelligence station as a "practical training base" for new operatives. The local environment was relatively simple, and the Ming presence weak; if operatives blundered, rescue would be swift.

His second proposal was to use Qiongzhou as a springboard for intelligence work throughout Guangdong. The Guangzhou Station currently bore the brunt of operations, but Guo Yi and his team were already high-profile figures. Expanding clandestine large-scale operations there carried significant risk to the transmigrators' economic lifeline. Lin Baiguang recommended spinning off non-Pearl River Delta operations to the Qiongzhou Station, with Guangzhou providing logistical support.

As for his own cover, Lin Baiguang decided to open a grain shop in Qiongshan County. The collective already had a grain business in Leizhou, allowing him to transfer experienced staff and leverage existing trade networks. It was an ideal front.

Rice was a universal necessity. While Lingao produced many novel commodities that would sell well, Lin Baiguang had no intention of performing commercial miracles here. He needed a cover that facilitated travel across Guangdong, not a business empire. He would avoid dealing in any signature "Lingao" goods.

A modest operation would suffice—a starting stock of one thousand shi of brown rice. In the future, when the collective took full control of Hainan, the shop could segue into the food distribution network, ensuring nothing was wasted.

Gao Di and Chen Tong had been in the field for several days, leaving early and returning late. Lin Baiguang remained in his room, plotting operations and refraining from interference. Finally, Gao Di returned with a report. He had identified several prospects.

Lin Baiguang listened as Gao Di detailed the locations, layouts, and terms for each property.

Gao Di had shortlisted three compounds outside the city walls. Two were moderately priced residences, but the third, located on West Gate Avenue, was more expensive as it included street-facing shopfronts.

"This property has three bays of storefront space," Gao Di explained. "The front courtyard is spacious enough for a warehouse, making it suitable for a business front. There’s also a quiet rear courtyard, and the back gate opens onto an area with multiple escape routes."

The asking price was two hundred and eighty taels, inclusive of fees for middlemen and guarantors. Given the specifications, it was reasonable.

Observing Gao Di’s dusty clothes and hoarse voice, Lin Baiguang noted the effort the young man had invested. The results were commendable; the property matched Lin’s requirements perfectly. Gao Di had demonstrated not just obedience, but initiative—a rare and valuable quality.

Chen Tong then reported on Hai Shuzu. The man was a descendant of the famous official Hai Rui. Thanks to his ancestor's lingering prestige, Hai Shuzu was considered local gentry in Qiongshan, but the family’s fortunes had waned. Bound by the pressure to uphold their ancestor’s reputation for probity, the family avoided illicit dealings and subsisted on the meager income of their ancestral estate. Supporting a large household on such thin margins was a constant struggle.

Desperate to restore his family’s wealth, Hai Shuzu had turned to commerce. He had pooled funds from clan members and friends to build a large ship for the Southeast Asian trade. Disaster struck when pirates seized the vessel and its cargo; only the manager and a few sailors returned. Now, creditors were banging on his door, driving him to the brink of ruin.

Lin Baiguang knew this story well—the ship and its cargo were currently sitting in Lingao, under the jurisdiction of the Admiralty Court. They had released the manager with instructions for the owner to claim the vessel, but months had passed without a word from Hai Shuzu. Clearly, the man lacked fortitude. Hearing that creditors were now making a scene, Lin Baiguang smiled. External pressure would make him easier to manipulate.

"I’ve gathered some details on his personal life as well," Chen Tong added. "Overall, he’s unremarkable—a rule-abiding scion of an illustrious line whose ambition for wealth outstrips his ability. A common tragedy in these times."

"One of his household servants is from Meizhou," Chen Tong continued. "We’re from the same region. I’ve already established a rapport with him as a fellow townsman. Getting access to the Hai household will be much easier now."

"Very good," Lin Baiguang nodded approval.

He then reviewed their expenditures. Gao Di had spent a dozen taels, citing costs for cultivating middlemen, purchasing silk garments, and hiring sedan chairs to maintain appearances.

"...Without projecting a certain status, the matter wouldn't have proceeded so smoothly," Gao Di reasoned.

"The operational funds are yours to use, provided the expense is justifiable," Lin Baiguang said. "However, your reporting is sloppy. Look at Chen Tong’s ledger."

Chen Tong had spent only four taels and three qian, yet his report itemized every expense, from buying tea to gifting a pair of shoes. In contrast, Gao Di’s ledger was littered with vague entries of "entertainment expenses."

"You have discretion over these funds, but remember that this is public money," Lin Baiguang admonished. "The distinction is vital. Public funds must be free of private entanglement. In intelligence work, large sums will pass through your hands. The greater the amount, the more transparent the accounting must be. Every single wen must be traceable. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Lin Baiguang paused, studying the two young men. "Competence is important, but self-protection is paramount. Neglect these details now, and you will find yourselves defenseless when an audit comes. Protesting your innocence then will be useless—no one will believe you."

"Yes, we will remember," they affirmed.

"Good. Gao Di, proceed with purchasing the property on West Gate Avenue." Lin Baiguang counted out eighty taels of silver from his iron chest. "This is for the deposit. The balance will be paid at closing."

"Should I spend a little extra to have the deed registered at the Qiongshan County Revenue Office and stamped with the red seal?" Gao Di asked.

It was a prudent suggestion, though Lin Baiguang considered it somewhat redundant—in a few years, the Ming administration here would cease to exist. Still, the foresight deserved encouragement.

"Very well. Do it."

"Understood."

Preparations for the Qiongzhou station moved swiftly. Lin Baiguang had no intention of playing shopkeeper; he knew nothing of the grain trade. Managers would be transferred from the Leizhou Sugar branch of the Intelligence Commission. Zhu Fusheng, owner of the Dachang Rice Shop, was happy to recommend his own senior clerks and expressed a willingness to establish business ties with the new "Wanfeng Grain Shop."

These commercial staff would not participate in intelligence operations. Espionage would be the domain of trainees from Lingao, who would serve as junior clerks and servants. Separating the business and intelligence tracks would ensure better management and security.

(End of Chapter)