Chapter 52: Work in the Li District (Part 2)

The strange procession marched along the main road to Lipandu. Eight Li men carried salt, their intended trade goods, while the transmigrators were fully armed. They might encounter Ming soldiers or bandits on the road, and the two were equally likely to be motivated by greed.

There were already travelers on the road. Seeing such an unusual group approaching, they all steered clear. The farmers in the fields remained undisturbed, continuing their final preparations before the harvest; the paddy fields had already been drained. The rice was about to ripen, and the agricultural personnel accompanying the team were estimating the probable yield.

After less than an hour’s walk, the county seat came into view. In the two months since their arrival, the transmigrators had fought a fierce battle with the Ming local government in this city. But apart from the few members of the military and communication teams who monitored the city, most were seeing this center of Ming Dynasty rule in Lingao County for the first time. The original tense atmosphere had vanished. There were fewer militiamen on the city walls, the gates were open, and people were coming and going, creating a somewhat lively scene. At the city gate, villagers were setting up stalls to sell vegetables, chickens, ducks, and firewood, presenting a peaceful picture.

Their arrival seemed to cause some tension on the city walls. The team leader, Lu Rong, saw a man in armor looking out from the wall. To avoid unnecessary misunderstandings, the entire team did not approach the city gate, maintaining their distance as they slowly passed. The farmers who had been about to pack up and flee breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the group pass by from afar without causing any trouble.

According to the prisoners, their village was more than a hundred li from the county seat, so it was impossible to reach it in one day. They would have to rest for one night on the way.

“I didn’t expect it to be so desolate along the way!” Mu Min exclaimed. There were few fields along the route; most of it was grassland with weeds taller than a person.

“Lingao itself is a remote little county,” Wen Desi said. He was also in the group, but his participation was purely out of curiosity and for a change of pace. Since D-Day, he had been busy with meetings, reviewing documents, and drafting materials every day, making him even busier than before. He didn’t even have time for his beloved outdoor activities. This was a good opportunity to get back to it.

As for safety, he didn’t feel there was any danger. For someone who always wore a stab-proof vest, carried plenty of pepper spray, and was fond of brandishing and carrying a long folding knife and a 1.2-meter Western hand-and-a-half sword (also known as a bastard sword), all opponents—be they Chinese or foreign pirates, Ming government troops, local militias, or bandits—were nothing. Not to mention the twenty-odd people around him were armed to the teeth. The only thing missing was steel helmets—for the sake of lightness, they had been replaced with rattan safety hats. This batch was the first finished product from the industrial department after more than a month of research. The original plan was to make them in a colonial style, but the result was a bit of a mishmash. However, with the leather suspension system installed, they felt okay to wear. A sun-shading cloth, colloquially known as a “butt curtain,” was also sewn onto the back of the hats.

“How strange. Since there’s so much wasteland, why isn’t anyone cultivating it? Those prisoners, whether Li or Han, are either tenant farmers or long-term laborers. It’s not like there’s no water here, and the land doesn’t look barren.”

“Lack of water,” Wen Desi said. He had never farmed, but he understood the basic principles.

“Nonsense. With such a big river, how can there be a lack of water?”

“The water is still in the river. It’s only useful if you can get it into the fields. Irrigation is a major science. You need to lift the water, have canals, build sluice gates…”

“Why don’t they dig canals?”

“Hydraulic engineering is troublesome,” Wen Desi explained. “It’s too difficult for a single household to dig its own irrigation canal. Throughout history, water conservancy projects have always been organized by the government. It requires a lot of labor and money.”

“I see. Nothing is easy,” Mu Min sighed. “So why did you guys come here? Isn’t the 21st century good enough? Why risk it all in this time period?”

Wen Desi smiled enigmatically. He was too embarrassed to say he wanted to be a god in this world. However, Mu Min apparently interpreted his mysterious smile as lewd and pursed her lips.

“So annoying. You men are the worst!”

Following far behind, Ming Lang saw his wife chatting and laughing with the bandit leader, Chief Wen, and wished he could rush forward and slash Chief Wen with his machete. He had been incredibly frustrated these days. Ever since they found out this was Lingao in the Ming Dynasty, his family of four had been in a state of semi-house arrest. A wonderful family trip to Hainan had turned into a permanent tour of Ming Dynasty Lingao. These crazy bandits wanted to come to the Ming Dynasty, but his family had no such plans!

He was also annoyed that his wife was so meddlesome, insisting on helping out in the Security Group. Every day, she would put on that ugly training uniform and go to work excitedly. Not only did she come home late, but she would also chatter on about everything she saw. And his father, too! At first, he was sullen and silent all day, but after listening to his daughter-in-law’s stories, something clicked. He actually went to them and asked for a job—he was supposedly going to be a naval advisor?! Hearing this, Ming Lang thought he was running a fever. His father, an old Communist Party member and a veteran of the People’s Liberation Army Navy, was now going to collude with this group? As for his mother, she was a social activist to begin with. A few days after arriving at Bairen Camp, she had already befriended the women there, was never home, and was even talking about starting a women’s welfare society to do business.

It seemed he was the one doing the worst. They probably thought he was useless, as he hadn’t been assigned any formal work yet. He was just a miserable “basic laborer,” working alongside the local coolies day after day. When his wife said she was going to the Li district to work, he quickly signed up. Xiao Zishan had wanted to refuse, but on second thought, they were a legally married couple, and it seemed unreasonable to forbid the husband from going.

So, he managed to come along. But his wife was the team’s “ethnic advisor,” clearly a core member, a much higher rank than his porter-like status. Since the start of the trip, she had been with the team leaders, one moment discussing work, the next laughing and joking. He was very angry, and the consequences would be severe!

During the midday break, the communications team made its routine call to the headquarters in Bairen City with the field radio to report that all was well. It had been agreed before departure that the two sides would contact each other every three hours, with the expedition team reporting its current location so that headquarters could track its movements. Everyone began to sample the new field rations just developed by the agriculture department: there was the “Jinhua crisp pastry,” personally made by Wu Nanhai but with a very strange taste; the so-called “Japanese rice balls” with added rice vinegar and dried plums; and walnut-sized balls of some unknown substance, with the three kanji characters for “Hyorogan” (military ration pills) written on the bamboo tube packaging, claiming one pill could replace a meal…

“What is all this stuff?!” Lu Rong exclaimed after eating a rice ball so sour it felt like his teeth would fall out. Although the food was not tasty, it successfully suppressed his ravenous appetite after half a day’s walk, so it achieved its purpose in a way.

“Everyone rest for a bit, we’re leaving soon.” Just as he said that, he saw Mu Min walk out slowly from behind a rock, clapping her hands.

“She seems to have lost weight. Not as fun to… fight with—”

The journey was uneventful. As they got closer to the Li district, the terrain became more rugged, changing from gentle slopes to rolling hills and mountains. There were fewer pedestrians on the road. Occasionally, they would encounter Han peddlers carrying goods to the Li district, or Li people coming out to trade. They all kept their distance upon seeing the group, and Lu Rong couldn’t even find anyone to ask about the situation ahead.

The team’s pace slowed. The survey team members would stop from time to time to correct their maps. Some would run off to pick up a few rocks or collect some plants. At these times, everyone took the opportunity to rest and stretch their limbs.

The results of the survey excited them: there was a distribution of coal seams here. Although the quality was poor—low-calorific lignite with low reserves—the coal seam likely extended far to the south. The modern Nanbao coal mine was located roughly in this area. Lignite was not very suitable as fuel, but it could be processed into good fertilizer. The most exciting news was the discovery of many traces of limonite veins, which were relatively shallow and could be mined on a small scale through open-pit mining.

“We need to open this trade route as soon as possible,” Wen Desi said excitedly.

“The Ming troops on the road are a problem,” Lu Rong frowned.

Along the way, they had encountered two Ming army checkpoints and one camp. However, seeing them pass by fully armed, the guarding soldiers paid them no mind. Wen Desi took the opportunity to observe his future military opponents: the soldiers were all sallow and emaciated. Forget armor, they didn’t even have a complete set of clothes. He couldn’t help but wonder: how could an army like this, with just a few hundred men, guard the border of the Li district? Either they were very effective fighters, or the Li people were very poor fighters.

“Yes,” Wen Desi nodded. “First, we negotiate terms with the Li people. We provide the technicians, and they will be responsible for the mining. We’ll exchange for their products, saving us the trouble of setting up another sub-base.”

After breakfast, according to the prisoners, they were already at the edge of the Li district. Han merchants still came and went frequently. Further ahead was Juti Village, where there was a large Ming army camp called Nanlüe Camp, which guarded the key pass into the Li district, Fanbao Mountain. However, the camp was manned by Li soldiers. Although there were inspections and extortions, it was not a major obstacle.

From the “Li Situation Report” given to him by the intelligence team, Wen Desi knew that Fanbao Mountain had treacherous terrain, with only a narrow mountain path wide enough for one person to pass. This place was the main pass separating the Han and Li territories. Without a guarantee of safety, it was best not to cross it. However, the villages of these few prisoners were all north of the pass. According to them, beyond Fanbao Mountain, the “Sheng Li” (raw/unassimilated Li) were predominant. The Sheng and Shu Li had different dialects and customs and rarely interacted with each other—they only united when they rebelled.