Chapter 1232 - Maritime Patrol
By rights, Qi Feng had absolutely no interest in coal mines. His passion was traditional classicism, and he cared little for depicting the labor aesthetics of the working class or the grandeur of industrialization.
His reason for wanting to visit the coal mine was that a Mediterranean-style district he was currently building lacked suitable materials. In Qi's vision, this cluster of houses formed a unified whole: walls painted white—easy enough. Gravel foundations and walls—also easy. Blue and yellow doors and windows in clever combination—even easier.
The only problem was that the rosy-red roof tiles he envisioned couldn't be found anywhere in Lingao. The red fired in Lingao always wasn't quite right—completely out of sync with his memory. It always looked grayish. He'd specifically gone to brick kilns and ceramics factories to have several test firings, but couldn't achieve the hue he wanted. Without bright red tiles, how would they look against the blue sea, beneath azure skies and green trees? But importing roof tiles was impossible.
After scratching his head for ages, Qi Feng went to the Heavy Industry Central Laboratory—a large facility specializing in chemical analysis for heavy industry enterprises—and asked them to analyze the composition of the various raw materials for firing bricks and tiles. After laboratory analysis, the conclusion was clear: this area around Lingao was marine sedimentary strata, lacking the high-iron quartz clay he needed. The abundant calcium and magnesium ions in the clay layers would coat all fired products with a pallid gray color, making red bricks less attractive. However, similar clay was available at the Jiazi Coal Mine.
Thanks to Tang Menglong's efforts at the Jiazi Mining Bureau, the original Jiazi mining district had been deeply developed to find more lignite suitable for coking. Hainan's lignite was generally poor quality: high ash, high gangue, low calorific value. Changchang Coal Mine had a theoretical deposit of 67.21 million tons, but only about nine million tons qualified as true lignite. The remaining eighty-five percent was low-calorific fuel—that is, high-gangue coal and high-coal gangue.
Originally, to save shipping capacity, a coal washing plant had been set up at Jiazi Mine. The large amounts of coal gangue left from washing had accumulated in the mining district, forming several small hillocks over time.
This pile-up had become a major nuisance—taking up space, prone to spontaneous combustion, and polluting water sources. Mine Director Tang had petitioned the Planning Commission multiple times about the problem, pushing for comprehensive utilization. Finally the Planning Commission approved a brick factory at the site. Both the Changchang and Changpo districts where Jiazi Coal Mine was located had deposits of various grades of mining clay—first, second, and third grade. Combined with the large amounts of coal gangue that could serve as both fuel and raw material, comprehensive utilization could produce everything from ordinary bricks and tiles and pottery to high-performance refractory bricks and high-temperature crucibles.
Although Lingao's construction had huge demand for bricks and tiles, transportation constraints meant the amount shipped from Jiazi Coal Mine to Lingao wasn't large. Aside from some refractory bricks and special refractory ceramic components for industry, it mainly supplied the Qiongshan and Wenchang areas. Liu Xiang's farmland water conservancy construction work in Qiongshan was the main consumer.
Director Tang had also fired many vessels and crafts of various sizes and sent them to Lingao to market to the construction, industrial, and foreign trade departments. The Grand Library had quite a few Tang-brand flowerpots. Elder Qi had a native worker bring some over, washed them clean with water, and examined them... Good, this was exactly what he needed.
So he placed an order. The drawings were delivered, the goods were produced—all that remained was waiting for a ship. But returning ships from Jiazi Coal Mine were all loaded with coal, with a small amount of tonnage for cement-grade gangue. What remained had to carry Grade I refractory clay and refractory bricks. If he waited his turn for his Grade III clay products according to schedule, it would be at least the second half of the year.
So Qi Feng shyly presented his needs to the female pirate. At the end, he unconsciously stared at her with big innocent eyes gazing into the female pirate's pupils. This cute act was too much—the female pirate was already all thumbs and feet. One word from this handsome gentleman and she'd charge through mountains of knives and seas of fire. Qi Feng kept explaining he didn't have budget for high shipping fees and so forth, while Li Huamei just kept pledging her loyalty: "Oh, I've been wanting to see Qiongshan Prefecture too... My crew needs training... They don't know how to sail in shallow waters, need practice... So grateful that Chief Qi... Chief Qi thinks highly of me..." She was practically singing "Lady Du Shiniang Has a Hundred Treasure Chest." She hadn't even considered that her Hangzhou simply couldn't sail up the Nandu River. But really it was just moving some tiles—with a crew of sturdy white and yellow foreign devils strong as donkeys, at worst she'd make multiple trips with small boats. But that's getting ahead of the story.
When Qi Feng mentioned the word "Navy," she suddenly remembered she had an assignment tomorrow—transporting cargo to Kaohsiung.
Li Huamei now felt utterly reluctant to leave. In the old days, she'd have pushed this matter back without a second thought. But remembering her weighty undercover mission and her sister's whereabouts, her eager desire to haul bricks for Qi Feng immediately cooled.
"No, um, Lord—no, Chief, taking you there is no problem. But afterward I have to go to Kaohsiung. Perhaps... you could wait in Qiongshan for my ship to return..."
"Oh, you're going to Kaohsiung? Then don't trouble yourself—I mainly wanted to bring back more tiles. What a pity." Qi Feng rubbed his hands, somewhat regretfully.
"As soon as I get back from Kaohsiung, I'll take you..."
What was said after that she couldn't remember—the unexpected encounter had set her heart racing. Li Huamei hadn't even exchanged her gold coins. She'd have to come back for that. All the way back, she cursed herself for being useless—she couldn't even string a coherent sentence together anymore.
A single-masted patrol boat was sailing at full canvas in the waters of Lingding Bay near Hong Kong.
This nimble single-masted triangular-sailed vessel, though not large in tonnage, was fast and maneuverable. With a powerful, long-range cannon on deck, plus two typewriters, it could swagger anywhere along the South China coast—especially since it flew the Morning Star flag, the symbol of the current South China Sea hegemon.
Zhao Zhulong—official name Zhao Zhulong—was standing behind the helm, scanning the sea with a telescope. His boat belonged to the Hong Kong-based Coast Guard, responsible for round-the-clock patrols of Hong Kong's surrounding waters, suppressing all piracy, and protecting shipping lanes and fisheries.
It was a boring assignment—basically patrolling along set routes, checking suspicious vessels—especially those not flying Senate sailing permits or fishing flags. But for Zhao Zhulong, this kind of sailing was relaxed. His legs had some issues and couldn't handle year-round sailing. This job—out during the day, sleeping peacefully at night—suited him well.
Zhao Zhulong preferred people call him "Big Zhao"—adding "Brother" was fine, "Master" was best, "Uncle" would do, "Old" was acceptable. He particularly disliked being called by his official name.
That lousy name was his father's doing. Zhao Zhulong's father had said: "A pig cage takes in water and fills with gold. We fishermen—where else would we take in water?"
Zhao Zhulong's father was named Zhao Jinhai. He'd died when Zhao Zhulong was fifteen—in an unexpected storm, man and boat never returned.
Zhao Zhulong's mother had always said his father's name was wrong. "Jinhai, Jinhai"—that meant "entering the sea." Once you entered the sea, how could you get out?
Zhao Zhulong lost his father at fifteen. At sixteen he went to sea with his second uncle. At eighteen he joined Jin Daxiong's pirate gang. A year later, Jin Daxiong took a musket ball in a raid on a Fujian ship and died on the spot. His gang scattered; Zhao Zhulong and some close brothers joined Zhu Cailao's big gang.
After over a decade roaming the seas, surviving life-and-death situations, he'd finally worked his way up to having his own small boat and a comfortable living. Then Zhu Cailao suffered a disastrous defeat and the big gang collapsed. Zhao Zhulong followed his bosses, who followed Shi Shisi in throwing in with the Australians at Lingao.
Like his bosses, Zhao Zhulong had his hair cut, changed his clothes, and entered the study classes. After half a year of "political study," he'd somehow passed the Type C diploma exam. His old boss teased him: "Zhao Zhulong—who knew you had the makings of a scholar!"
Zhao Zhulong just smiled without answering. Years of drifting at sea had given him rheumatism in one leg—a bit of a limp. Studying was because he wanted to stay ashore. Hadn't Boss Lady Hu Jiumei washed her feet and come ashore?
But he still couldn't get ashore. Seeing his bad leg, the Australians didn't put him in the Navy but assigned him to cargo ships. Zhao Zhulong changed his name to Zhao Zhulong, was assigned a small boat for freight runs, and naturally became a Naval Reserve Ensign.
He'd started running the Lingao-Guangzhou line for two years, then joined Great Wave Company as captain, continuing the coastal scheduled freight routes. Later, when Operation Engine began, escort and guard forces needed massive expansion. Experienced sailors were too few—for a time, they couldn't even muster enough qualified captains. Zhao Zhulong had been both captain and had combat experience, so he was recalled to active duty. Due to his leg problem, unsuitable for long-term field service, he was assigned to the relatively relaxed Hong Kong Coast Guard as accommodation.
Zhao Zhulong took some time to adjust to vessels with this kind of rigging, but after a month's training could basically handle it. The principles of reading wind for sailing had commonalities.
Today was his usual patrol shift. A typhoon had just passed through Hong Kong a few days ago. Now the sea was calm, waves barely over a meter. The patrol boat sailed lightly and smoothly—hardly any swells at all.
Zhao Zhulong watched the sea for a while, then sat down. His rheumatic leg felt heavier and heavier. Though the General Hospital had prescribed some plasters a few times—they helped when applied—this couldn't go on. He needed to find a way ashore.
But once ashore, what would he do? He'd been making his living at sea since childhood. Sure, those medically discharged would be assigned jobs, but the income would be far less than before. And he didn't have a wife yet...
Just as he was thinking, the lookout called out: "Port bow, suspicious vessel!"
(End of Chapter)