Chapter 2454 - Like Walking in a Painting

The Lingao City Rail was standard gauge, but due to roadbed and locomotive limitations, its maximum speed was only thirty kilometers per hour—usually running at fifteen to twenty. By old timeline standards, this was barely faster than a theme park sightseeing train. But for first-time passengers, it felt "swift as wind and lightning." The moment the train started, people in every carriage surged to the windows, gazing out in fascination.

Many in the inspection group had taken the train from Great World to Great East Gate, so the experience wasn't entirely new. However, that journey—though under new rulers—still showed the appearance of the old Great Ming. And Great World itself, to be honest, had grown somewhat stale for the big households who visited regularly.

Now they sat properly in a first-class carriage of the "Lingao City Rail," enjoying the springiness of kapok-filled cowhide seats beneath them. The inner walls were spliced from fine wood inlaid with decorative black ironwork patterns. The clear glass windows gave a sense of openness—not expensive items perhaps, but exquisite and comfortable in a way they'd rarely experienced. Even the sedan chairs they rode daily had hard grandmaster chairs that couldn't compare to these seats.

Sitting in such comfort while admiring the scenery was like stepping into the pictures in those "Western Peep Shows" in Guangzhou or the Australian "pictorials." No—more beautiful than those. Pure "Australian scenery."

The area along the railway from Bopu to Ma'ao had originally been desolate hills and beaches. After the railway connected, the region entered rapid development. Since Lingao's prevailing winds blew from the east, little industry was placed here; development centered on agriculture and forestry in the hilly areas. Besides supporting some farm owners, several large agricultural and forestry farms had been established, with residential settlements and simple processing enterprises clustered around them.

Shelterbelts lined both sides of the railway to reduce erosion from sea winds. Looking out the windows, the land along the line had been meticulously cultivated. Most hills had been developed as plantations for various cash crops. Big households with orchards in the countryside could identify some as fruit orchards, but most plants were unrecognizable—new varieties the Elders had brought from the old timeline.

These plantations grew bananas, citronella, coconuts, coffee, sisal, and tea. In the valleys between hills, rice and sugarcane farms alternated. The rice had been harvested, but alfalfa and winter wheat had been planted, keeping the fields fresh and green. In the sugarcane fields, the late-sown cane had been cut, and farmers were plowing for February's spring planting.

The land was managed with precision: irrigation canals radiated in all directions. Huge windmills turned slowly, driving piston pumps with elegant calm. Steam pumps belched black smoke and white vapor, making rhythmic rumbling sounds, occasionally whistling impatiently. The canals followed unified elevations; where they crossed valleys, rivers, and ponds, water flowed through aqueducts.

Precious water flowed from small ponds specially built between hills to store rainy-season water for dry-season irrigation. Some was diverted from distant rivers and reservoirs. It flowed into fields to irrigate crops or into fish ponds to raise fish and shrimp.

On one side of the rails, in newly harvested fields, a flock of ducks wandered leisurely, pecking for leftover grain and insects. On the other side, goats grazed near the beach, eating the salt-rich grass that grew there.

Villages flew past the windows from time to time. Each resembled a small fortress—since this was a coastal area, the early settlements had been built according to the "Standard Village" design of Wen Desi. Newer settlements weren't quite so strict, but they remained orderly and square, with neat houses, fully reflecting the Senate's aesthetic preferences.

Almost every big household had farmsteads in Guangzhou or elsewhere in Guangdong, but which compared to this quiet affluence? If speaking of meticulous field care, the Australians' farms might not rank among the best. But these canals, these windmills, these roads, and these farmhouses—such things were beyond imagining. The Senate was truly generous, truly willing to spend!

The city rail stopped at small stations along the way to pick up and drop off passengers. These stations naturally couldn't match Ma'ao, but even the smallest was tidy and orderly, with staff commanding and coordinating, arranging everything perfectly. The big households were worldly men who didn't merely gawk—they fully understood how much wisdom and ability were needed to maintain such a railway's normal operation.

No wonder the Australians could dominate Guangdong and Guangxi in just a few years! Chen Ding thought. They have capable people!

"The train will depart in one minute. Passengers who haven't finished boarding or alighting, please hurry..."

On the platform, a naturalized citizen in a navy-blue uniform held a large tin megaphone, calling out first in "New Language," then in Guangdong Mandarin and Minnan dialect.

Just then, a commotion erupted on the platform. Chen Lin poked his head out curiously to see a middle-aged man with a hair bun, wearing patched short brown clothes, struggling out from a third-class door.

Though few passengers were boarding or alighting at this stop, he struggled mightily—his body was festooned with bundles large and small, and he clutched a carrying pole in his arms.

So much baggage hung from him that two railway staff had to help before he could disembark safely without dropping his "treasures."

Immediately after came a woman in equally shabby clothes, also carrying bundles. On her back, sitting in a bamboo basket, was an infant less than a year old, staring around curiously with dark eyes.

Behind the woman came several children, the oldest thirteen or fourteen, the youngest only four or five, all dirty and disheveled. The older ones held the younger ones, the younger ones clung to the older ones—a string of them following their mother closely, eyes full of fear and uncertainty.

"Third Brother!" Someone ran over to greet them—a person with short hair and short clothes. "You're here!"

At that moment the train whistle blew, and Chen Lin lost the chance to hear more. The last thing he saw was the man called "Third Brother" hoisting his luggage on the carrying pole, leading his wife and children to follow the person meeting them off the platform, walking into the depths of the picturesque scenery.

"Most likely immigrants coming to Lingao," Chen Ding observed. "A whole family with nowhere to go. Must have relatives here."

"I've heard that coming to Lingao gets you land and a house. Is that true?"

Chen Ding could only shake his head. "I've only heard the rumors..."

Chen Xiaobing, seated in front, overheard and turned around. "Land and houses are indeed distributed, but it's not universal. It depends on the immigrant's situation and preferences. Are they willing to work as laborers or farmers? Or perhaps as vendors or sailors—that's fine too. Even for distributing houses and land, some receive wasteland to reclaim themselves, while others work as farm hands on established farms. It varies."

"I heard there isn't much land left in Lingao now, and new immigrants mostly go to Nanyang or Taiwan?" Chen Lin asked curiously. "The best ones go to Sanya at the ends of the earth?"

Chen Ding paled at this. He was about to smooth things over when Chen Xiaobing laughed. "That's a rumor. As I said, where they go depends on the immigrant's situation and preferences. If they've committed a major crime and the Senate showed mercy by sentencing them to exile, then naturally they go to Taiwan, Jeju, or Nanyang. But ordinary immigrants with some savings and sufficient household labor who want to reclaim wasteland and build their own family property—there are still many suitable places on Hainan Island. Why go overseas? Take Sanya, for example: it's summer year-round with three harvests annually. Fertile land. In the past, there was miasma, and Li villages and pirates caused chaos, so people naturally didn't want to go. Now the Senate has medicine to cure miasma, the Li villages have been registered and brought under administration, and pirates have been purged. What's wrong with building fields and houses there? Even if one insists on staying in Lingao, there's still plenty of undeveloped wasteland. For those who are penniless with family members needing food, several state-owned farms recruit year-round. Entering a farm as a worker, you have housing and land, and children have schools to attend..."

Chen Xiaobing spoke at length, but the Chen uncle and nephew remained somewhat skeptical. It sounded too good! Where in the world could such fortune be found!

Still, as newcomers, they had no way to distinguish truth from falsehood. Many people had indeed flowed from Guangdong to Hainan in recent years, especially after the Australians took Guangdong and Guangxi. Presumably Chen Xiaobing's words held some truth.

Chen Lin remembered his uncle's earlier suggestion and asked playfully, "Lord Chen..."

"Just call me Comrade."

"Comrade Chen," Chen Lin said, "you're also surnamed Chen, as are my uncle and I. I wonder where your ancestral home is—which choronym? Perhaps we were one family five hundred years ago?"

Chen Xiaobing smiled slightly. "I'm ashamed to say I wasn't originally surnamed Chen, nor do I know my ancestral home or choronym."

"Then..."

"I was an orphan." His voice dropped slightly. "Since I can remember, I wandered in the city—I don't even know which city. When I was about ten, I heard that the Prefectural City was a big place where food was easier to find, so I followed some adults to Guangzhou. I registered with the Guandi Temple gang and begged for several years. Then I caught a seasonal disease and was abandoned by my companions. Only then was I saved by the Senate and brought to Lingao. This surname and name were both bestowed by the Senate."

"I see!" Chen Lin said hastily. "Well, heroes aren't defined by their origins..."

"Ha, what kind of hero am I?" Chen Xiaobing laughed. "Just an ordinary person. I owe everything to the Senate's grace for living like a human being."

(End of Chapter)