Chapter 51: Work in the Li District (Part 1)

The announcement of a twenty-day leave for the busy farming season sent a wave of cheers through the camp. Many laborers asked Wu Nanhai if they could buy uncooked rice instead of cooked meals to take home. He readily agreed, selling it at the same rate as a serving of rice: one work-point for 100 grams of mixed rice. Sales of salted fish also surged. Except for the homeless who planned to stay and work, nearly all the laborers spent their work-point coupons.

Wu De didn’t say much, only that they had to return on time. Anyone delayed had to send a message, or they would be penalized double the work-points for each day they were late. He also had the laborers spread the word to their villages: anyone willing to come for business or work was welcome, and their personal and property safety would be guaranteed.

At dawn the next day, the laborers left in twos and threes, carrying small bundles of salted fish and rice wrapped in rattan and old cloth, their faces beaming with happiness. Some from the same village traveled together. Watching their figures slowly disappear into the morning mist, Wu Nanhai couldn’t help but sigh. “A bird with a nest is hard to tame.” To cultivate new farmers, he would have to start with orphans.

Just as he was thinking this, he saw Zhang Xingjiao also leaving with a small bundle and a wooden staff. He greeted him, “Mr. Zhang, are you going back too?”

Zhang Xingjiao’s Mandarin had improved considerably—he had already picked up a little of the official dialect. Hearing Wu Nanhai’s question, he quickly bowed. “Chief Wu, I’m also going back for a trip. I’ll be back in four or five days.”

“Do you still have family?” Wu Nanhai had heard from Wu De that his family situation was tragic and he had nothing left.

Zhang Xingjiao smiled bitterly. “I have no relatives,” he said, touching his bundle. “When I was in trouble, I was looked after by a few kind villagers. Thanks to the masters’ favor, I’ve been given so many things. I’m taking them back as gifts to thank them for their kindness. From now on, I am a dead man. Wherever the masters go, I will follow…”

He’s a man of sentiment and righteousness, Wu Nanhai thought, looking over the Ming Dynasty scholar. He wore a tattered lanshan robe, his shaved head now covered with a ragged hat. His face was ashen, with a look of despair. It seemed that “following the rebels” was still a choice born of helplessness.

An idea struck Wu Nanhai. “Mr. Zhang, are there any orphans in your village?”

“Orphans?” Zhang Xingjiao thought for a moment. “There are, but they are all raised by their clans, so they aren’t truly orphans.”

“Oh.” Wu Nanhai was a little annoyed. He remembered that in ancient Chinese society, the clan system often performed many social functions in place of the government. Especially in rural areas where the clan system was strong, it was difficult to find orphans unless war or famine had caused widespread displacement.

“There is a widow and her orphan daughter, though,” Zhang Xingjiao added after a thought. “They live a very hard life. They originally came from the mainland to reclaim wasteland, but unfortunately, the husband died of a plague, leaving the mother and daughter behind. Alas…” He sighed repeatedly.

“Mr. Zhang, tell them that if they are willing, they can come here to work.”

This time it was Zhang Xingjiao’s turn to be surprised. “A widow and an orphan can’t do much work. The girl is still young, and the mother is not as capable as the local women.”

“It’s fine. If the two of them are willing, just bring them back.”

Zhang Xingjiao hesitated, thinking that these sea pirates had no reason to take in extra mouths to feed. Even if they wanted to buy servants, they would naturally prefer strong young men and women. If it was for… companionship, they would want a girl in the bloom of youth. What use was a middle-aged woman and a young child? Despite his thoughts, he didn’t dare to ask further and went on his way.

The prisoners had all been dispersed. The work concerning the Li people was also drawing to a close. After discovering eight Li prisoners during the interrogations, the Executive Committee discussed whether to use this opportunity to establish contact with the local Li people. The various mineral resources the transmigrators needed were mostly located in the island’s interior, so establishing good relations with the Li people had practical significance.

Mu Min, who had been assisting Guo Yi with the interrogations, volunteered for this task. The reason was simple: her ancestral home was Hainan, and she was of Li ethnicity. Although her family had moved to Sichuan several generations ago, she was officially registered as Li. Because of her ethnic background, she had some knowledge of the Hainan Li people, making her a rare expert among the transmigrators.

Her understanding of her own people made it easy for her to dispel the wariness of the few Li prisoners, who then told her everything about the local Li situation.

The prisoners could all speak the Han dialect, from which the transmigrators gathered that they were “Shu Li” (Sinicized Li), meaning Li people who were registered, paid taxes, and served corvée labor. There were many such Li people in the counties of Hainan. Through communication, Mu Min learned they called themselves “Bupei Li.” They were already highly sinicized, spoke the Qiongzhou dialect (Hainanese), which served as a lingua franca in Hainan, and used Han surnames. According to them, thirty of them had come, promised twenty catties of salt each by the county magistrate for their service.

From the questioning, it was learned that most of them owned some land, but the yield was much lower than that of Han farmers. Most still had to rent land from the dongzhu (chieftain), work as short-term laborers, and in their spare time, hunt in the mountains or collect red and white rattan to sell at the market for salt, rice, and farm tools. However, to get to the Han areas, they not only had to pass through the Inspection Office but also, terrifyingly, Ming army camps on the way. At best, they would be extorted for passage money; at worst, their goods would be stolen, and their lives would be in danger. Most of them lived very hard lives.

The news that the road to the Li district was guarded by the military, in addition to the Inspection Office, caught the attention of the Executive Committee. It was clear that Ming troops were still stationed in Lingao, though their task was merely to guard against the Li. From the conversations, Mu Min sensed that the local Li people held considerable animosity towards the government. Thirty years ago, due to an uprising in Tinan Village, government troops had entered the Li district on a suppression campaign, killing many indiscriminately. They also deeply resented the Han peddlers at the market—their mountain goods sold for very little; a wild boar couldn’t even be exchanged for two or three catties of salt. They all liked the Han people’s iron farm tools, but the prices were exorbitant. Several large baskets of grain were needed to trade for a single sickle. Except for the chieftains and a few wealthy landlords, no one could afford them.

Mu Min’s report made the Executive Committee realize that the ethnic issues in Hainan were much more complex than they had imagined. Someone proposed using the Li people’s resentment towards the government and the Ming army to send a small team deep into the Li district via these eight prisoners to mobilize the masses. This would not only gain them an ally but also a source of soldiers. Since they often couldn’t even get salt, recruiting soldiers would be much easier. Many in the military group supported this proposal, especially Wei Aiwen, who suggested creating a mountain infantry battalion by recruiting Li and Miao warriors and enthusiastically promoted the idea. Forming a new army of locals was a very attractive idea. Since the local Han people were worried about “following rebels and traitors,” it would be much easier to recruit the Li people, who were less subservient to the government’s authority and even held grudges against it.

“Give them some of the captured weapons, arm all the Li people, and the Ming army won’t be able to deal with us,” Wei Aiwen said, presenting his package plan. “We can also help them take out a few of the Inspection Offices leading to the Li district and annihilate those Ming troops. That will win their full trust.” He then volunteered to be the leader of the armed work team to the Li district.

This bold plan was immediately rejected by the entire Executive Committee. Although the historical conflict between the Han and Li in Hainan had many economic and political factors, years of repeated fighting had created deep ethnic animosity. The current peace had been maintained for thirty years, and for the transmigrators to break it, or even provoke it, was extremely dangerous. The whole of Hainan would likely descend into social chaos. The fledgling, small transmigrator nation, not yet firmly established, would not be able to survive even with its “Zentradi” technology.

After discussion, everyone agreed that the relationship with the Li people should be kept on a friendly basis. “Friendly” meant neither hostile nor allied. They would try to open a trade route for mutual exchange of goods and strive to recruit some new soldiers from the Li district.

With this tone set, the Executive Committee organized a trade caravan. The leader was Lu Rong, a native of Guangxi who could speak Hakka, Hainanese, Cantonese, Leizhou dialect, Zhuang, Minnan, Southwestern Mandarin, and other dialects. With a background in sales, he was eloquent, an outdoor enthusiast, knew some martial arts, and had just returned from a long-range reconnaissance and survey mission, giving him relevant local field experience. He was well-suited for the job.

Mu Min went along as the “ethnic advisor.” Wei Aiwen, as the main proponent of the recruitment plan, also joined the team.

The team consisted of twenty people, each equipped with an SKS rifle, a large machete, and a camping backpack. Personnel for prospecting and surveying were also included.

The Foreign Affairs and Commerce Committee prepared gifts and some items for barter. Knowing the Li district lacked salt, the main bulk cargo was refined salt. There were also some novel trinkets—they were going to deal with the local chieftains, not the impoverished common folk, so they needed some “ingenious and curious” items to impress them.

“We killed more than twenty of their people. Shouldn’t we give them some compensation? Some silver for each person, perhaps?” Wei Aiwen remembered. “I recall that among some ethnic minorities, killing can be resolved by paying a ‘life price’.”

“Unnecessary,” Xiao Zishan objected. “Get the cause and effect straight first. They joined the village militia to attack us first. Releasing them is already a very friendly gesture. Pay a life price? Please, we are not the Qing Dynasty, which ceded territory and paid indemnities after winning a war.”

“But we still killed their people—”

“Why the sudden burst of compassion?” retorted You Laohu, who was transferred from the military group to guard the team. “What about the hundreds of Han people who died at Bairen Beach the other day? Why don’t you want to pay their life price?”

“Isn’t this about ethnic policy?”

“No,” Lu Rong shook his head repeatedly. “That’s not the kind of ethnic policy we want. We won the battle; releasing the prisoners is enough. Going to pay a life price will instead make people think we are weak and have come begging. They’ll demand an exorbitant price.”

“I think so too,” Xiao Zishan nodded in agreement. “So-called equality means no discrimination—not discriminating against others, and certainly not discriminating against ourselves. We must get this tone right.”