Chapter 672 - The Scheme
"Many are willing to go, but they're not sure. They're afraid there's a catch." Liu Bing said. "Free room and board, plus teaching them to read and write—it sounds too good to be true."
This wasn't like men going out to work as laborers or soldiers, trading sweat and risk for money—that transaction everyone understood clearly.
Things too good to be true were inherently suspicious. There were no free pies falling from the sky, and common folk understood this instinctively. Besides, handing over one's own flesh and blood to strangers in a distant place couldn't be accomplished simply by extolling school conditions or promising bright futures for the children.
So far, the village had taken in only four children: one genuine orphan, and the others from families too poor to raise them.
"Let them visit Fragrant Garden," Liu Bing suggested. "Once they see it for themselves, they'll definitely agree..."
Liu Dazhu snorted. "You really don't know how expensive firewood and rice are. Sending one person per household to Lingao means over thirty people. Even if they walk the whole way, what about food and lodging? And that's assuming people are even willing to go."
"What should we do then?"
Wang Wu spoke up. "Director Dong said in class: the first principle of rural work is gaining the people's trust, and the second is still gaining the people's trust. They're still suspicious of us. Let's not push too hard on this for now, lest we make them even more distrustful."
Liu Dazhu said, "I don't think we need to overthink this. They want us to conscript labor, right? We'll talk to Team Leader Liu—conscript children by household."
Wang Wu was startled. "That's really novel. Do that and you'll scare the people to death."
While they talked, hidden in the trees outside the camp, several figures watched the lamplight within.
Zhaopu Village was a desolate mountain hamlet with no large public buildings. The village had no landlords or wealthy people—all dwellings were bamboo-lath walls with thatched roofs. They couldn't accommodate extra people and were quite unsanitary. The work team naturally did their utmost to avoid them.
Instead, they lived in a camp they had constructed themselves.
Earthen berms, barbed wire, trenches, and a watchtower. All the standard field-camp facilities were present, just smaller in scale.
The work team and guard platoon lived in standard army tents—coarse cloth dyed dark green with persimmon lacquer. These came in large, medium, and small sizes, plus specialized functional tents, offering a complete and convenient range.
The berms were brightly lit with lanterns and torches. Those hiding in the trees could see the entire camp clearly. But by the same token, the illumination made the camp's surroundings extremely difficult to approach.
"Security is tight." Gou Er said with obvious disappointment.
Xin Nari nodded. "The bald bandits' camps are always well-guarded. Trying to raid them probably won't work."
The traditional method against such fortified enemies was fire attack: shoot many fire arrows; once the camp caught fire, charge during the chaos. But that was the old way. Gou Er and Xin Nari had both faced the transmigrators and knew traditional methods were useless against the bald bandits. Their muskets far outranged bows. Archers would be driven off by gunfire the moment they started shooting. As for sending men close to set fires—utterly impossible. No one wanted to crawl across open ground holding torches in bright light. That was simply throwing lives away.
"I counted—the bald bandits have over thirty men. All armed with muskets." Xin Nari whispered. "Even if we brought our whole gang, we might not be their match."
Bandits lacked military discipline. They performed well enough in winning fights, but faltered when meeting determined resistance. A little setback and they would collapse—you couldn't expect them to fight desperately.
Gou Xunli gnashed his teeth and watched for a long while, unwilling to give up. But he knew Xin Nari was right. Though the camp held only thirty-odd men, it was an iron walnut they couldn't crack.
"Without a head, the snake can't move!" Gou Xunli hissed viciously. "They can't hide in camp forever! Get a good look at the faces of the leaders!"
They lay in ambush for days but never found a good opportunity to strike. The work team mostly operated within the village, occasionally circulating around its perimeter. Each outing involved at least five people, all fully armed. And they never strayed far from camp.
No matter where they attacked, any disturbance would bring bald bandits rushing out to reinforce. That spelled disaster.
"So there's no way?" Hu Lanyan said with disappointment.
"I have a way, but it requires an inside man." Gou Xunli's voice dropped. "We'll need to spend some money."
Hu Lanyan cringed at the mention of spending money before the job was done. Bandits didn't like doing business without tangible profit.
"Brother! Provoking the bald bandits is one thing—if I don't destroy them, they'll destroy me. But spending money without income is a losing deal!"
Gou Xunli said, "Big brother, the bald bandits are after our rice bowls!"
Without rice bowls, even owning all under heaven would just benefit others. Hu Lanyan sighed heavily. "I understand that! Ah! How much silver?"
"Not much. Ten taels to start."
With a few taels of silver, Gou Xunli quickly bribed a villager in Zhaopu Village to constantly monitor the bald bandits' movements. They met outside the village at night. Gou Xunli was interested in every trivial detail.
What he wanted to understand was the work team's activity patterns—to find an opening.
When he heard the work team bought their vegetables daily from the village, Gou Xunli's eyes lit up.
"Who sells them the vegetables?"
The next day at noon, the camp served lunch as usual.
The army pot was cooking rice, its fragrance of brown rice scenting the moist air. Nearby, another pot bubbled with "comprehensive soup."
The comprehensive soup was made from Ration No. 11 in the Grassland Rations—"instant soup cubes." According to regulations, troops could supplement the soup with locally available "safe foods": poultry, seafood, eggs, and vegetables. Especially vegetables—the transmigrators' dehydrated vegetable technology remained unreliable, and glass-jar canned goods were produced in quantities too small for frontline distribution. The main problem with grassland rations was high calories paired with insufficient vitamins, which had to be supplemented with locally gathered vegetables.
The first batch of soldiers queued for food, taking galvanized tin lunch boxes from their packs, chatting and joking while waiting for distribution.
According to Fubogun mess rules: unlimited rice—eat as much as you can. One ladle of comprehensive soup per person.
"There's egg in it today." Someone spotted egg wisps floating on top.
"Haven't had meat in ages."
"This place is really poor—can't even buy a chicken or duck."
The soldiers chatted idly, seemingly having forgotten that not long ago, they and the villagers here had been much the same.
One soldier sat down, took a bite, and frowned. "What is this? So bitter?"
"It's bitter gourd." Another soldier fished a green slice from his soup.
"Can this stuff be made into soup?"
"Anyone who's not satisfied doesn't have to eat," the cook said arrogantly. "I don't have enough as it is."
Complaints aside, the meal still had to be eaten.
After lunch, the work team sent several people to the village to continue their tasks. Most soldiers withdrew to camp for political study—afternoon temperatures were too high for physical activities.
Wang Wu and Liu Dazhu were still laboring over their reports—their literacy wasn't high, and writing was arduous work. Not only did they write slowly, but expressing ideas correctly required considerable thought. The lunch delivered to their table had gone completely cold.
Suddenly a corporal rushed in. "Something's wrong! Everyone's having heat stroke!"
Wang Wu and Liu Dazhu were instantly alarmed. Heat stroke in midsummer could be fatal! Liu Dazhu said, "Let's go see!"
In the paths and spaces between camp tents, more than a dozen people had collapsed. Some were vomiting violently; others clutched their stomachs, faces pale, groaning; some couldn't move at all, their bodies occasionally convulsing. Wang Wu smelled a foul odor. He noticed several people had diarrhea so severe they couldn't make it to the latrine.
"Where's the medic?"
"Medic!"
The corporal went calling. A moment later, he helped the medic over—who was clutching his own stomach. He too appeared ill.
Liu Dazhu said anxiously, "Quick, give everyone medicine! Oh, where's your medical kit? What medicine? I'll get it!"
"It's no use... this... isn't heat stroke." The medic gasped, face ashen. "We've eaten... something unclean..."
"Tell everyone who hasn't eaten not to touch the food—throw it all out." Liu Dazhu gave rapid orders. "Get everyone back here. Have stretchers made—we need to rush them to Danzhou city!"
But they couldn't leave now. Of the thirty-five people, twenty-one had severe symptoms. The rest also suffered abdominal pain and diarrhea. Only five or six who hadn't eaten remained completely unaffected. Even if the work team abandoned the camp and retreated en masse, they didn't have enough people to carry stretchers.
"Ask the villagers for help," Liu Bing said. "The path is difficult—each stretcher needs at least four carriers."
Liu Dazhu nodded. "I'll go find people now."
He went alone out of camp toward the village—and never came back.
Wang Wu had returned to his tent to pack his document satchel when suddenly a commotion arose outside. An urgent "emergency assembly" drum sounded.
Liu Dazhu started: this was the signal for enemy attack!
The corporal rushed in again. "Many people approaching outside! All with swords and spears!"
Wang Wu stepped out of the tent, climbed the berm, and looked. In the surrounding trees and on the hillsides, shadowy figures moved. Blades and spears occasionally flashed in the sunlight.
Clearly this group meant no good. They were slowly closing in, using trees and brush for cover.
"This is bad!" Wang Wu used an expression he had learned from the Australians. "Quick! Everyone still mobile, up on the berms!"
To buy time, he picked up the tin megaphone used for propaganda and shouted: "We are the Australian work team from Lingao! We've come to bring medicine and medical care to the local people! We mean no harm to the people of Danzhou! Who are you?"