Chapter 1514 - Night Flower
At National Police Headquarters, tension hung thick in the air. Officers preparing for the security sweep had gathered in the lobby, ready to move out.
Per the requirements for coordinated operations, all participants had to wear duty belts, carrying pistols and batons—even personnel borrowed from clerical departments like Household Registration were no exception. National Police officers were all armed while on duty. Though the Yuan Elder Court's policing philosophy and system largely imitated the public security apparatus of the old timeline and Japanese police administration, in practice it was American-style: they did not hesitate to use force.
Besides weapons, those executing raids and inspections were issued special "stab-resistant vests"—essentially sleeveless jackets made using cotton-armor techniques. How effective they actually were was questionable; they were more or less better than nothing. Steel helmets were unavailable, replaced by rattan safety caps.
For nighttime identification, all participants wore red-and-white armbands. Operations of this scale inevitably involved personnel from the Security Forces and the Lingao Garrison Battalion. Larger sweeps sometimes even drew sailors from Bopu—the Yuan Elder Court's police system still suffered from a chronic shortage of qualified personnel. Any major operation required system-wide mobilization, borrowing clerical staff for temporary duty and appealing to the Military Affairs Bureau.
Tonight's operation was county-wide. The sweep covered not only the county seat, East Gate Market, and Bopu—the three main towns—but also every smaller market town and commune center. The manpower needed was enormous. All leave had been canceled, and even the prohibition on consecutive forty-eight-hour shifts was suspended.
Ostensibly, this was to restore public order, but the real purpose was to apprehend the martial arts masters who had slipped through the dragnet a few nights earlier.
The officers gathered in the lobby murmured among themselves. Such sweeps had become frequent lately, varying in scale. With the surge of outsiders, Lingao faced heavy pressure on public order, necessitating these periodic campaign-style "clean-ups." For Ran Yao and the others, though the Yuan Elder Court's police force had swelled to an absurdly large size by seventeenth-century standards, by twenty-first-century metrics it was still far from sufficient—not to mention the actual working capacity of these uniformed naturalized officers.
"All attention!"
At the command, the officers in the lobby clicked their heels and snapped to attention in unison. Pan Jiexin appeared on the open gallery of the second floor.
Pan Jiexin was in his early thirties and served as director of the National Police's Criminal Investigation Division. His original specialty was economic investigation; he had been an investigator in the economic crimes unit of a municipal public security bureau. Because certain activities during the transmigration group's preparations had alerted authorities in that city—interpreted as a large-scale, organized fraud scheme—Pan Jiexin had been sent undercover, posing as a resigned police officer joining the transmigration.
Within the transmigration collective, he had been accepted into the Security Group. For the following months, he was practically giddy: never before had he encountered such a bizarre and entertaining economic fraud case. He estimated the final case value would exceed a hundred million—small beans perhaps, but the case was so rare it deserved inclusion in police training materials. After cracking it, promotion and commendation would surely follow.
After D-Day, Pan Jiexin nearly lost his mind: promotion and commendation were out the window. He had simply "vanished" from the old timeline and would ultimately be declared a "martyr." What his family would think upon learning the news, he dared not imagine.
Though police work inherently carried great risk, and he had been prepared to sacrifice when accepting the undercover assignment, "disappearing" in such dramatic fashion was not the ending he had wanted.
After several days of despondency, Pan Jiexin assessed the situation and decided to make the best of it. He kept silent about his original undercover mission and formally became an "Yuanlao"—like an investor who ends up owning the company.
Since he was now in the new timeline, sticking to his profession was the easiest path to advancement. Pan Jiexin joined the Yuan Elder Court's police force. He had hoped to continue in economic investigation, but the workload in that area was too small to warrant a separate department. On Ran Yao's advice, he became director of Criminal Investigation, and when ranks were assigned, he was made Regional Police Commander. He knew this had been deliberately set low: once the territory expanded, becoming a Police District Chief was only a matter of time...
Pan Jiexin, wearing a fine police uniform of blended wool and cotton, a duty belt with a Glock pistol at his hip, stood on the second floor gazing down with an air of authority and grandeur. The newly arrived female household-registration officers' hearts fluttered.
He surveyed the naturalized police below. They all looked too thin, he thought, and their complexions not quite right—except for the batch of women recently assigned from the Women's College. But their morale was quite good. Though their attire was somewhat shabby, they lacked the distinctive obsequious look one saw in late-modern photographs of defeated peoples.
"Report, Regional Commander! All personnel assembled. Awaiting orders!" the duty officer announced loudly.
"At ease!" Pan Jiexin called. "Weapons check!"
Below, the clatter of firearms being inspected filled the air. The standard police weapon was the Model 1632 revolver and shotgun. High-powered rifles like the short Minié had been withdrawn from police use—only a few J-series high-precision Minié rifles were retained as sniper equipment.
When the "Check complete!" report came, Pan Jiexin glanced at his watch and waved his hand. "Commence operation!"
The headquarters doors swung open. Officers poured out like a tide. The courtyard was packed with four-wheeled police wagons. The "Mobile Unit" was equipped with relatively rare bicycles—for maneuvering through East Gate Market, bicycles were far faster and more convenient than horse-drawn wagons.
Li Yongxun and several female household-registration officers boarded one of the wagons. Tonight, her assignment was to accompany the team sweeping East Gate Market's "custom trade district."
In Lingao, prostitution—or, in Australian parlance, the "custom trade"—was legal, so long as one obtained a license and paid taxes as required. However, the trade was restricted to designated areas and subject to stricter policing.
This sweep targeted the custom-trade district as a priority zone because fugitives might well follow old habits and hide there. Most practitioners in Lingao's sex industry had come from the mainland and were former professionals. Their understanding of the new society the Yuan Elder Court had built was shallow; their thinking inevitably lagged. Under the lure of gold, some madam or courtesan might well take the risk of harboring a fugitive.
As police wagons and bicycles streamed out of headquarters, the Security Forces' various platoons—having completed formation elsewhere—simultaneously moved out on command to control intersections and key routes. Priority search zones were fully sealed: no entry or exit permitted.
Lin Ming looked at the house before him. It appeared no different from the others; the sign read "Night Flower." As usual, a curtain hung at the door, with large placards outside. Wang Xinglong, clearly familiar with the procedure, lifted the curtain and walked in without hesitation.
Lin Ming thought, This Wang Xinglong is barely eighteen or nineteen, yet he knows his way around a pleasure house like a regular. Truly a sign of declining morals! That said, he followed inside.
Through a small vestibule, they found a different world within—elegantly decorated, in no way inferior to the pleasure houses of Guangzhou or Foshan. Lin Ming saw colorful posters on the walls. A closer look made his body respond at once—months at sea had primed him. The posters depicted a voluptuous naked woman striking all manner of provocative poses. The poses were one thing; he had seen plenty of erotic paintings and "secret play" illustrations. But this woman was utterly unlike those stylized "naked sprites"—she looked uncannily lifelike, with realistic curves.
Lin Ming had seen much of the world in Guangdong, including "Western paintings," and knew this was Western technique. But compared to the plump, pale Western women of those paintings, the woman before him was far more alluring.
One line on the poster read: "Night Flower proudly presents eighteen new services—enjoy the treatment of kings and lords."
The treatment of kings and lords—this house had nerve! It was practically lawless.
"Brother Lin, how about it? Want to try the eighteen styles?"
Lin Ming was about to reply when a pimp emerged from inside, all smiles, and approached. "Sirs, you've arrived! Do you have a familiar girl?"
"No. This is our first time at your establishment," Wang Xinglong said. Lin Ming's heart sank: pleasure houses were notorious for fleecing customers. Without a regular to guide them or a seasoned patron who knew the rules, one could spend a fortune without even getting a cup of tea—and be mocked as a "greenhorn" by courtesans and pimps alike. He had assumed Wang Xinglong was a regular here, but now discovered he too was a first-timer. Young people are too reckless!
"Sirs, you've come to the right place! We're running a big promotion right now—more for the same price. We guarantee your satisfaction." The pimp introduced the offerings while leading them inside.
"What promotion?" Lin Ming asked.
"Oh, that's what the Australians call it. You'll see in a moment. Watch your step—this way, please."
After a few turns, the pimp led them to what looked like a reception hall. Several men sat there; they glanced up at Lin Ming and then went back to sipping tea and flipping through illustrated albums. Servants bustled about pouring tea. Faint strains of music drifted from somewhere.
"Sirs, if you don't have a regular, please follow me." The pimp spoke quietly to Lin Ming.
"Very well." Lin Ming followed the pimp deeper inside.
"I can tell at a glance that you two gentlemen are of exceptional quality. I won't bother introducing ordinary girls. Let me select a few of our house's finest for you. Tonight you will be well pleased."