Chapter 779 – New Year's Address
Wang Ci shuffled timidly onto the wooden deck. The white-tableclothed dining tables were already set with place settings: bone china plates and spoons fired in Lingao's kilns, emblazoned with the House of Elders' "national emblem"—a golden double-headed eagle over a gear-and-wheat-sheaf motif, crowned by the Holy Ship. Wine vessels were glass; only the chopsticks had been purchased from Guangdong—all ivory-clad. Seat cards marked each place. Upon finding his seat, Wang Ci was relieved to see Sun Ruiwu beside him. He had no desire to sit next to a transmigrator.
Sun Ruiwu was chomping on a "Holy Ship" cigarette and looking around for food. From his dress and demeanor, Wang Ci could tell he had done quite well for himself—which rankled. Besides serving as Lingao's Jail Warden, Sun doubled as a Director in the transmigrators' Grain Procurement Bureau. No doubt he'd profited handsomely from the bald folk—a bona fide Ming traitor.
Sun Ruiwu harbored none of Wang Ci's brooding. Smiling, he exchanged courteous banter—was the county school's funding adequate?—the standard official pleasantries. Of course, even if there were problems, he could only promise to "look into it." Wang Ci responded perfunctorily.
"This ice sculpture is grander than last year's." Zhang Youfu sat across from them. He wasn't quite used to sitting directly opposite magistrates, staring eyeball-to-eyeball, and felt awkward—so he made conversation.
At the deck's center, just like last year, stood a massive ice sculpture. This time, under the guidance of elders with fine-arts training, the local stonemasons had carved something other than a stone lion—a dolphin leaping from waves. Sparkling translucently under the gaslights, it was almost too bright to look at.
A year ago, this would have been an astonishing wonder. But now ice had become a commodity in Lingao; even ordinary naturalized citizens and petty landowners could afford it. An ice sculpture no longer inspired much marvel.
They made a show of admiring the sculpture for a while, until someone's growling stomach broke the awkwardness. They exchanged looks: Why isn't the food being served? Waves of aroma drifted over, and everyone was famished. Petty landlords like Zhang Youfu and Fu Bu'er had skipped lunch entirely, intending to eat their fill tonight.
Glancing at other tables, they saw elders already eating and drinking—astonishingly, the transmigrators served themselves! Each one carried a large china plate heaped with food; some held wine glasses, eating standing or sitting, clearly enjoying themselves. What kind of etiquette is this?
As they hesitated, a tall young woman arrived—dressed in a black dress with a white apron, smiling pleasantly—and invited them to fetch food themselves from the buffet.
Wang Zhaomin, who had frequent contact with transmigrators, knew that women dressed like this were concubine-maids—the most untouchable pillow-companions. He quickly cupped his hands in thanks.
"…Gentlemen need not bring plates; clean plates are available at the buffet," the maid said with a trained "All Nippon Airways" smile. "Drinks are also available at the table."
What a novel approach, everyone thought. In ancient formal dining, there were endless ceremonies—not to mention presenting dishes in proper sequence. Even private banquets required formalities. Now the transmigrators observed no etiquette whatsoever; even serving food and pouring wine was self-service. Wang Ci cursed inwardly: Bald barbarians with no manners! Was he supposed to stand there with a plate like a beggar at a gruel station?
For a moment, officials and gentry hesitated—no servants on hand to dispatch. But the petty landlords were too hungry to care about propriety; with a quick bow, they rushed the buffet. Moments later they returned with heaping plates of delicacies. Now no one could hold back; even Magistrate Wu rose ceremoniously and strolled toward the food table.
Wang Ci endured a few more moments, then surrendered to hunger. The buffet blazed with light and fragrance. He hardly dared approach—the words "pools of wine and forests of meat" flooded his mind. The abundance was staggering! Even at his hometown prefecture's grandest banquets, he had never seen such a spread. The variety dazzled him—things he had never seen or heard of. Just then, Zhang Youfu came by wielding three plates, one balanced on each arm, piled high with meat, vegetables, and seafood, a skewer of grilled meat clamped between his teeth.
Wang Ci drifted along behind an elder and ended up with far more than he'd intended. He had believed years of plain fare had given him iron willpower against rich food—but having the option not to eat was entirely different from not having the option. His stomach rebelled mightily and he found himself taking crab cakes, coconut-crusted fried shrimp, fried squid rings, onion rings, grilled chicken, and fried sweet-potato fries, plus a chicken cutlet and a few small slabs of teppanyaki sirloin—he didn't know it was beef. Seeing fried eggs on the griddle, he asked for one of those too. In Wang Ci's frugal life, eggs were a luxury.
Then, somehow, he arrived at the drinks table, lined with carved-glass cisterns and small barrels holding liquids of various colors. He stared, unsure what to choose. Finally, the maid behind the table ladled a pale-yellow liquid into a glass and handed it to him. One sip—mellow, refreshing. He downed several cups in a row.
"Sir, this is strong liquor…" The maid noticed him wobbling and cautioned him. This was a cocktail of rum, lemon juice, sugar, and water—easy to drink, but with a kick.
"Nonsense!" Wang Ci snapped in his lofty manner, and stumbled back to his seat. He bit into the sirloin—rich, fatty, with the bite of black pepper—and nearly bit his tongue off. He quickly ate a fried shrimp, then looked up to see slender maids gliding about clearing plates, hips swaying like willows in the wind… This education official suddenly felt sorrow rise from within and tears fell—he realized his past life had been a blank void.
The elders had no such complicated emotions—though even for them, such a sumptuous meal was a first since D-Day. Especially the meat; never before had there been such abundance. Everyone ate heartily. Wu Nanhai and several elders stood by the buffet, chatting. Everyone had received Wu Nanhai's wedding invitation, so of course congratulations were in order.
"This feast is all thanks to your Agriculture Department," He Ying said, already a bit tipsy.
"The volume still isn't where it needs to be," Wu Nanhai said proudly. "For the 1632 New Year reception, we'll have even better food—I'm raising several Wagyu cattle…" He caught himself, glancing around.
"Relax, Xi Yazhou stayed in Sanya," He Ying reassured him.
"These few Wagyu are my breeding stock. Once I've bred enough calves, I'll set up a special 'Elders' Supply'—play them music, give them beer and apples, hire ten girls to massage the cattle. I refuse to believe I can't produce marbled beef."
"Kobe beef?"
"Wagyu has many breeds; Kobe is just one," Yang Baogui said, swirling his glass. "I think Imari Kotake cattle are good too. Less fatty."
Someone chimed in: "Old Wu! Is it really appropriate to marry a maid as your primary wife? I heard you're a Christian—you can't have a second wife. What about marrying a lady from a good family later?"
"What about the Li mother and daughter? You're just leaving them behind?"
"I'll still take good care of them," Wu Nanhai said offhandedly.
The others nodded knowingly, some murmuring, "As expected." Wu Nanhai, oblivious, continued: "I've always supported monogamy. Besides, it's better for a wife to come from humble origins—even Zhu Yuanzhang decreed his sons' and daughters' spouses be selected from common families. I figure we'll have lots of children someday; if the mother's natal clan is too powerful, her children gain an unfair advantage. That's not fair competition for inheritance!"
"So you're emulating Zhu Yuanzhang," He Ying teased.
"I think it helps maintain family balance." Wu Nanhai, a few drinks in, was in high spirits. "I'm also planning to imitate Kangxi—a secret succession system. The family head's heir will be announced only after I die; until then, no one dares slack off or stir up trouble."
"Brilliant. You really are something."
"I still think primogeniture is best—stable…" Liu Zheng scoffed. "Why copy the Manchus? Primogeniture is the hallmark of every civilized society!"
A group of men with no children yet launched into a heated debate on succession. Wu Nanhai didn't want to continue the topic and quietly pulled He Ying aside:
"Liaison Officer He, about my application to build a small chapel at the farm—have you considered it?"
He Ying looked troubled. "Can't you just attend the joint service at the Bairen Church?"
"I'm Protestant. We don't piss in the same pot as them," Wu Nanhai said. "I'm not proselytizing—just for personal and family use."
"But there's no Protestant church and no pastor, right?"
Wu Nanhai laughed. "We Protestants generally don't require that. I can serve as my own pastor—preach, conduct ceremonies." He added, "I'll pay for it myself and arrange the construction."
He Ying pondered. "This is a significant matter. I'll have to submit it to the House of Elders for approval."
"Hurry it up," Wu Nanhai said. "I'm planning to get married in the chapel."
As they spoke, the lively music over the loudspeakers switched to the "March of Unity and Friendship." Natives and naturalized citizens familiar with the elders knew that when this tune played, a principal elder was about to appear. The murmur of conversation and laughter gradually died down.
Sure enough, the entire Executive Committee and several key People's Commissioners and ministers emerged in front of the deck as the music played. Two spotlights crossed their beams. Leading was Wen Desi, wearing a white suit without a tie, smiling and waving. Behind him, Ma Qianzhu wore a black Mao-collared tunic, clapping with one hand, expression stern. The other committee members smiled and clapped lightly, going through the motions.
The music stopped; the venue fell silent. The leaders moved to the prearranged microphone, arranged by rank. Ma Qianzhu strode to the front, offered holiday greetings and congratulations, then introduced the excellent situation of the 1630 anti-encirclement campaigns, punitive wars, and economic construction. He announced the House of Elders' plans and tasks for the new year—especially the island-wide communications network and ring-road construction, and the impending expansion of population imports from the mainland. Conditions permitting, they would also bring in more special-needs populations of different races from Persia and Japan. Though the content was substantial, he spoke concisely and forcefully, drawing waves of applause and cheers. Afterward, the venue buzzed with discussion and laughter.
Wen Desi stepped to the microphone and waved to the enthusiastic applause from elders, native representatives, and naturalized-citizen representatives. He offered a few words of congratulation, emphasizing that 1630's achievements were the result of everyone firmly implementing the House of Elders' spirit and instructions—a great victory of collective leadership and full democracy within the House.
"Comrades, I won't enumerate again the great victories we've won on sea and land. For us, this is still only the beginning." Applause, then he continued: "Our regime is still a tiny power in this world. The tasks before us are glorious and arduous. To accomplish them, we must exert great effort. After this period of trials, I believe no difficulty, no enemy, can crush us—" More applause interrupted him. "War has paused for now, but the rulers in Beijing, Mukden, Seoul, and Edo continue issuing orders from their palaces… The Dutch still set sail from Batavia… Hidden enemies around us will make desperate struggles; the fight will be sharp and fierce, and it will continue for a long time. Our road is still long—the world is not yet ours, but someday it will be!"
Thunderous applause, cheers, and fireworks launched from warships and shore exploded into the sky alongside his closing words, shaking the sea. Flocks of gulls and birds, frightened from rocks and forests, flapped into the night sky, circling and crying over the water. Lingao's world had entered a new stage.
(End of Chapter)