Chapter 2126 - The New Official Takes Office

The External Intelligence Bureau had initially seemed a plausible career path. Yet, Xie Erren possessed no intrinsic knowledge of the Ming Dynasty, nor did he relish the prospect of an overseas posting—not, he would emphatically declare, from any fear of death, but rather due to the notoriously arduous conditions prevalent in foreign stations.

He had striven diligently to cultivate an image as an "ideology expert," nurturing the ambition that a meticulously crafted PowerPoint presentation, grandly titled "A Plan for the Ideological Reconstruction of the Pseudo-Ming Intellectual Class," would secure him the coveted position of "Secretary-General of the Ideological Construction Committee." Alas, Zhang Haogu had preempted him, swiftly establishing the Truth Office and thereby monopolizing that entire ideological sphere. Consequently, Xie Erren found himself relegated to the role of second-in-command at the Truth Office, his days consumed by the tedious task of rewriting and sanitizing historical materials from the old timeline, endlessly churning out "guidance opinions" and "propaganda pamphlets."

"Without ideals, what distinguishes a man from a salted fish?" This stirring sentiment, a personal mantra, propelled him forward. When the Mainland Offensive commenced, necessitating a substantial deployment of Council members to staff newly acquired local governments, Xie Erren concluded that presiding as a "lord of a hundred li" was hardly an ignoble fate. At the very least, he would wield undisputed authority locally. Though conditions might prove challenging, as the paramount figure in his assigned territory, he would possess the requisite influence to carve out a comfortable, albeit miniature, fiefdom for himself.

Thus, with characteristic decisiveness, he promptly enrolled in the administrative training course designed for northward-bound Council members, eager to demonstrate his leadership from the vanguard.

His assignment placed him with the West Route detachment of the Qiongya Column, tasked with securing the western sector of Guangdong. Wuzhou, strategically vital, marked the westernmost extremity of the entire takeover operation and served as the western terminus for Phase One of the Two-Guang Offensive. It demanded robust preparation against a potential Ming counterattack from Guangxi, was designated as the primary logistics base for the subsequent offensive into Guangxi, and, crucially, needed to re-establish commercial trade with Guangxi with utmost expediency. As the designated mayor of Wuzhou, his responsibilities were immense, necessitating the direct presence of a Council member. And so, Xie Erren assumed the mantle of Wuzhou Regional Director, his jurisdiction roughly mirroring the ancient Ming Wuzhou Prefecture.

To accelerate his acclimatization, Xie Erren had journeyed with the Fubo Army from the very inception of the Mainland Offensive, accompanied by his personal maidservant and several naturalized assistants. Operating as part of the Forward Headquarters, he had remained consistently at the front lines. He reasoned that even if his direct contribution to military decision-making was negligible, witnessing the campaign strategies of multiple brigades firsthand would prove invaluable for his future "Chronicle of the Mainland Campaign." Moreover, the journey offered a unique opportunity to observe specific takeover operations and assimilate the practical methodologies employed by others.

Throughout the arduous trek, Xie Erren generally held positive assessments of the takeover efforts at each location, humbly absorbing lessons. His only consistent disdain was reserved for the propaganda work encountered at every stop.

In his estimation, the Council's newspapers—often managed by temporary workers elevated to journalistic roles—were already lamentable. The broader propaganda efforts under Zhang Haogu, he scoffed, amounted to little more than crude "gold ruble" tactics. In short, they fell far short of his exacting standards.

"These people mock 'press-titutes' all day," he would declare, "but most of them have never encountered a true journalist. Once the realm is pacified, I shall demonstrate what a veteran of the media battlefield truly looks like."

Of course, the realm remained far from pacified. Nevertheless, orchestrating some effective counter-propaganda in Wuzhou presented a manageable challenge—a perfect opportunity to apply his professional expertise.

This time, however, he had missed the "first moment" liberation of Wuzhou. He had been detained in Zhaoqing, immersed in the interrogation, screening, and "re-education" of prisoners and defectors, only rushing to Wuzhou from Zhaoqing the previous day.

Xie Erren bid farewell to the 1st Brigade officers but chose not to immediately lead his team into the city. Instead, he established a temporary office within a ruined temple by the West River. Zhu Quanxing had already entered to commence takeover operations; barging in now would inevitably create a problematic two-headed command structure, only hindering progress. It was wiser, he concluded, to await a calmer moment before making his grand entrance.

Though he refrained from entering the city—thereby sparing himself the tedious obligation of socializing with local "worthies" and the initial chaos of relief work—the tasks at hand were anything but light. The prisoners from the Wuzhou battle, combined with the war refugees who had lost their homes, numbered well over ten thousand souls.

The refugees, for the most part, were manageable. The majority were Wuzhou locals; despite losing homes and possessions in the fighting, a measure of relief, assistance in rebuilding their lives, temporary housing, and the option of seeking shelter with relatives would resolve the plight of most. Those truly unable to sustain themselves locally could be resettled as migrants elsewhere.

The real conundrum lay with the soldiers. Local troops, possessing families in the area, dared not instigate trouble; after thorough screening, they could simply be released to return home. But the bulk of the prisoners comprised guest troops.

These men were predominantly able-bodied males—strong, disciplined, and organized. They could not be released indiscriminately, lest they immediately revert to banditry. Yet, they could not be held indefinitely, consuming precious rations and straining Fubo Army logistics. And they certainly could not be "buried alive," as some armchair Council members had audaciously advocated—after all, the Fubo Army represented civilization, not the barbarity of the Manchus or later fascists. Handling these prisoners of war had swiftly become his foremost and most pressing problem.

Established policies existed for prisoners. Professional soldiers like these were typically organized into labor battalions and put to work, accruing points toward their freedom over a set term. After that, they were free to stay or depart as they chose. However brutal their past, a few years of arduous labor under strict supervision would, it was believed, domesticate them.

In other locations, this would be the standard, straightforward procedure. But Wuzhou was a front-line city; the entire supply corridor behind it was flanked by potential trouble zones. Keeping several thousand able-bodied men organized for labor was one thing, but if someone were to incite them to "sharpen sticks into spears," the consequences could be catastrophic.

Yet, he was profoundly reluctant to ship these several thousand prime laborers to the rear—Wuzhou's burgeoning development desperately required manpower.

Xie Erren paced the confines of the ruined temple, then, donning his short trench coat—a relic from the old timeline—and clutching a Council-member-issue cigar, he strode back and forth along the West River, his mind racing, desperately seeking a solution that would satisfy both urgent needs.

In the old timeline, Xie Erren had been a non-smoker, relying on the bitter brew of Starbucks to sustain him through demanding workdays. In this new timeline, however, to ingratiate himself with the Army's young Turks, he had deliberately cultivated the habit of smoking. His trench coat, once a luxury brand in his former world, now served as an integral component of his carefully constructed personal image.

On its sleeve, an armband proudly displayed: a red background emblazoned with white characters reading "Bopu"—a commemoration of the pivotal battle against pirates at Bopu Harbor, an engagement that had solidified his bond with the Army. During that fierce skirmish, he had wielded an SKS rifle and personally dispatched one pirate—earning him the distinction of being the only "blooded" temporary staff member among the noncombatants.

Xie Erren stood, one hand resting on his hip, the other holding his cigar aloft, as he continued his thoughtful pacing along the riverbank. The ceaseless troop movements on both shores, the pontoon bridges spanning the water, and the gunboats patrolling the currents painted a rather impressive, if stark, tableau of war. He paused intermittently, gazing intently at the unfolding scene.

Trailing respectfully behind him was his secretary, Zhao Fengtian. Zhao Fengtian, a man from Shandong, had been rescued by Elder Lu during a devastating famine. When they first boarded the ship, the Council member registering names, having exhausted his imagination, had begun whimsically naming refugees after automobile brands: "Ma Benchi" (Mercedes), "Ji Baoma" (BMW), "Liu Bieke" (Buick). When it was Zhao's turn, and he stated his surname, the Council member chuckled: "Oh, a 'state surname'—I'll give you a good one: 'Fengtian' (Fengtian, as in Toyota)!"

Though he never quite grasped why every Council member he encountered would invariably smile upon hearing his name, for Zhao Fengtian—whose family had tilled the Shandong soil for generations—"Fengtian" (Bountiful Fields) was, indeed, a truly auspicious name. He had undergone decontamination, diligently learned to read, successfully passed the cultural examination, and subsequently risen to become a cadre within the Council of Elders.

Now, he served as Secretary Xie Erren's assistant, maintaining a respectful distance, poised for instructions.

A few steps ahead, Xie Erren remained, one hand on his hip, the other raising his cigar, his gaze fixed on the river.

Noticing his trench coat beginning to slip from his shoulders, his bodyguard hurried forward to carefully drape it back into place.

Xie Erren paused, casting a brief glance at the guard, then turned sharply: "Zhao Fengtian!"

Zhao Fengtian had been in quiet conference with a few bodyguards. Hearing his name, he quickly dismissed them with a terse "Got it?" and trotted over.

"Take this down." Xie Erren gestured towards him, and Zhao Fengtian swiftly produced paper and pen.

"I issue the following dispositions: the 4th and 11th Columns plus two independent divisions will reinforce the Tashan defensive line. The 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 8th, and 9th Columns plus the 17th Division of the 6th Column will take Jinzhou. The 10th Column plus one division will block the Liao Yaoxiang Corps at the Heishan–Dahushan line. The 12th Column plus twelve independent divisions will besiege Changchun. The 5th Column and two divisions of the 6th Column will monitor Shenyang. The 1st Column will serve as the general reserve."

Zhao Fengtian's bewilderment deepened with every word. He stared at Xie Erren, utterly perplexed. Xie Erren, sensing his confusion, immediately snapped in a commanding tone: "Repeat that back to me."

"Sir... sir..." Zhao Fengtian stammered, completely at a loss. "What is all this...?"

"Oh—never mind what I just said. I was just getting into character," Xie Erren coughed awkwardly, abruptly pulling himself out of his The Great Decisive Battle reverie. "Write down the following."

"Yes!"

Xie Erren dearly yearned to issue orders with the crisp, forceful authority of Marshal Lin: "I order! First—Second—" and to conclude with a flourish: "CC: Wang, Ma, Wen..."

But after all that meticulous mood-building, though the ambiance was perfectly set, he found himself utterly devoid of actual instructions. He managed to articulate "First—" before his thoughts stalled completely.

There was certainly no dearth of tasks—a thousand duties and ten thousand intricate threads demanded attention. Yet, these all possessed established "precedents"; he merely needed to "follow procedure." There was no need for reports, no call for "creative thinking," and while it might make sense to copy the Wuzhou matters to "Wen" in the field, copying "Wang" and "Ma" at headquarters seemed rather presumptuous and out of line.

Zhao Fengtian waited and waited, but no further instructions materialized. Meanwhile, a messenger, who had been patiently waiting for some time, ventured cautiously: "Sir..."

"What is it?" Xie Erren's train of thought was abruptly broken; a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.

"A messenger just arrived. Director Zhu requests your immediate presence in the city to meet with him—he has matters of urgency to discuss."

Zhu Quanxing was the newly appointed Wuzhou Regional Garrison Commander, Xie Erren's crucial working partner. If he had something to discuss, Xie Erren could hardly refuse. He set aside his ruminations on what grand orders to issue and quickly called out: "Into the city!"

(End of Chapter)