Chapter 1500 - Successful Infiltration

Lin Ming remained aboard Dongshan Residence for several more days until the quarantine period expired. Only then did he settle his wages, pack his meager belongings, and take his leave. Manager Liu naturally offered a few parting words of sage advice, which Lin Ming received with the appropriate murmurs of agreement.

Following the harbor officials' instructions, Lin Ming headed straight for the Customs Building to obtain his temporary identity certificate. Hailing from a powerful enforcement agency himself, he understood perfectly well that this was the Cropped-Hairs' equivalent of a "travel permit" or "waist badge." Without such a document in Lingao, he would be unable to take a single step. He had learned from merchants that even short-term businessmen visiting Lingao were required to obtain a "temporary certificate"; otherwise, upon reaching shore, they could neither lodge at inns nor survive a roadside inspection by the Cropped-Hairs' agents. Without anyone to vouch for them, they would spend a night in the lockup, and if no witness came forward, they would be dispatched to dig sand at a river works project for months.

Though the wharf bustled with traffic and the roads wound in complex twists, the signage was clear enough. For someone literate like Lin Ming, navigation proved straightforward. He soon arrived at the entrance of the Customs Building.

Although it bore the name "Customs," the Customs Building was in fact the comprehensive administrative center for the various departments of the Bopu Port complex. Because the Yuan Elder Court maintained near-free-trade tariff policies, actual customs business was negligible; the agency and its staff had been correspondingly "streamlined," occupying only a handful of offices.

For administrative efficiency, Lingao's port authority incorporated the functions of various modern border-crossing institutions—all except customs and police. And among the duties of the Lingao police, foremost was issuing documents to every person intending to stay.

The National Police might not sound as impressive as the General Political Security Bureau, but in practical operation it served as the bedrock of every enforcement agency. Most technical investigative programs were controlled by the National Police, which also handled fundamental population intelligence on behalf of all enforcement organs.

After the comprehensive land survey of Hainan was completed, the National Police had begun deploying police stations and launching a complete household registration campaign. This effort commenced with the more populous and prosperous northern counties of Qiong, then advanced southward. By late 1633, the entire island's formerly Ming-governed Han, Miao, and settled-Li populations had been surveyed, registered, and issued identity documents. The rough numbers for Hainan's total population, age composition, and gender ratio were now in hand.

Building on this foundation, starting in 1631, the National Police had established temporary identity registration points at Hainan's main points of entry in response to the growing influx of outside merchants, seasonal laborers, and intentional migrants to Lingao, Qiongshan, and elsewhere. Thus was born the system of documented short-term residence. Under this system, outsiders applied for temporary identity certificates valid for periods ranging from fifteen days to one year, according to their needs. Any outsider found moving about Hainan without a temporary certificate would be immediately arrested upon any random check. And anyone without documents could neither stay at inns, rent lodging, seek employment, nor apply for a business license. In short, lacking papers meant inability to take a single step.

The National Police, the Political Security Bureau, the Civil Affairs People's Committee, even the Planning Commission—all of the Yuan Elder Court's departments urgently needed to track the dynamic flow of transient populations. Lingao and many other places in Hainan had begun exhibiting the social characteristics of the early industrial era. Controlling transient populations required comprehensive monitoring of population dynamics. Entry-exit registration, identity certificates, household registration, lodging registration, employment registration—even with rudimentary technology, these measures could ensure a reasonable degree of social control.

Lin Ming did not understand the inner workings, but he recognized the formidable power of this system all too well. At the registration office, he first filled out forms, then underwent a physical examination. The so-called exam consisted merely of stripping naked so that a medic could look him over for signs of epidemic diseases and the like. With Lingao's current medical and administrative resources, they could not yet provide every entrant with full "purification"; only migrants organized directly by the Yuan Elder Court and those entering through recruitment, schooling, or military channels enjoyed that privilege. But to Lin Ming, even this abbreviated "examination" was a profound humiliation.

To think that I, a Brocade Guard centurion, should suffer such indignity! I shall never rest until the Cropped-Hairs are destroyed! Lin Ming emerged from the examination room fastening his belt, seething inwardly.

Carrying his examination report marked "Good," Lin Ming returned to the counter. Behind the wooden counter sat a female Cropped-Hair, likewise garbed in the cotton official uniform, though hers was black. Her hair was bobbed at the ears—a hairstyle Lin Ming found utterly scandalous: not only unseemly but positively ugly. He truly could not fathom the Cropped-Hairs' standards of beauty!

"Press your fingerprints—one in each box. Don't make mistakes!" the woman instructed. Under the guidance of a naturalized police officer nearby, Lin Ming pressed all ten fingers onto the registration form one by one, then repeated the process on a small card.

"Done. This is your temporary identity certificate." The woman finally placed the card under a peculiar machine, pulled down an iron handle with a resounding clank, and handed it to him. "Valid for one year. Come back to renew before it expires."

Lin Ming accepted this "Australian travel permit." It bore not only his ten fingerprints but also his name, age, height, and chief facial features, plus a string of Arabic numerals. It was stamped with a round seal—not in red ink but an embossed impression pressed by a die. Lin Ming recognized that this single feature virtually eliminated any possibility of forgery. On closer inspection, even the card stock was no ordinary thick paper: heavy, sturdy, finely printed with dense, intricate patterns that no common woodblock could ever reproduce.

He stowed the permit close to his body—this was now his most essential document. Without it, he could take no steps in Lingao. Following the woman's instructions, he exchanged some money at the Delong counter for circulation vouchers—gold, silver, and copper coins were entirely banned in Lingao.

He was about to step outside when a middle-aged woman behind a desk by the door immediately came toward him with a beaming smile:

"Young fellow, you've just arrived in Lingao, haven't you! Do you have any relatives or friends here? No? Ah, truly alone in a strange land. You don't look wealthy. Getting started in a new place is bound to be difficult. But I can see you're a fine, handsome fellow, literate and numerate. Why not join the vocational training program run by our Civil Affairs People's Committee? Study for three months, and we'll arrange all sorts of assignments—factory work, military service, and if your final grades are good, you can become a cadre directly... Shave your head? Shaving isn't dying! Hair falls out and grows back, and without it you're cleaner, no head lice, and bathing's easier... Serve the Yuan Elder Court and you'll eat well, have a place to live, and even get a wife... Hey, hey, hey, don't leave! This wonderful opportunity is right before your eyes—don't miss it..."

Lin Ming fled from the female cadre's barrage of eloquence. Still, he noted how highly the Cropped-Hairs prized educated people—the focus on recruitment bordered on the obsessive. That alone made rebellion worthwhile.

Leaving the Customs Building, he resolved not to linger in this area. The place was crowded and swarming with guards. With his keen eye, he easily spotted plainclothes operatives moving about the port area. As the saying went, a great hermit hides in the city. Lin Ming decided that his first step would be to head straight for East Gate Market. There, regardless of circumstance, he would find some manner of work and lodging. Once settled, he could slowly gather intelligence.

He had already inquired when exchanging his circulation vouchers. East Gate Market was not far—a broad road connected the two places, and even walking took only about half a shi. One could also take a public horse-carriage, though the most convenient option was the "Lingao City Rail." The woman at the exchange counter, seeing his appearance, had suggested he "take a ride and see the sights." She had given him directions: "Walk out of the port along the main road. When you see a three-story red-brick building with several arched doorways at the bottom, that's the station."

With his bundle on his back, he set off toward Bopu Town. Originally, aside from a handful of fishing Tanka households, Bopu had possessed virtually no permanent residents. Now it had transformed into a bustling little port town, its buildings and streets all new and orderly. A wide street paved with black gravel carried the briny smell of seawater and fish. Shops lined both sides, crowds coming and going. Lin Ming noticed many in the crowd who, like himself, were obviously "newcomers"—ragged, clutching small bundles, walking with timid steps. This reassured him somewhat.

He came to a tall red-brick building and saw streams of people flowing out through its arched doorways while others poured in from different arches. He surmised this must be the place. Looking up, he saw three large red characters on the lintel: "Bopu Station."

Though many newcomers to Bopu had received similar recommendations, most possessed no conception of a "train," let alone any experience entering a "station." Many hovered at the entrance, too timid to venture in, merely peering through the doors. Fortunately, the station's blue-clad attendants proved quite enthusiastic, constantly beckoning and guiding people inside. For those who could not read, they even assisted with purchasing tickets. Lin Ming, benefiting from his literacy, simply followed the signs—where to enter, where to buy tickets, destinations, and prices—all were clearly marked in large white characters on blue signboards. Inside, staff directed the flow. Despite the crowds, there was no chaos.

Lin Ming studied the price board and purchased a ticket to East Gate Market. The ticket was small but remarkably thick—even sturdier than the thickest, strongest card-game tokens—and printed with "Bopu–East Gate Market" and "Second Class Carriage." At the bottom appeared the date and a line of small text: "Valid only on day of purchase."