Chapter 14: Knee Effusion and Kaolin Clay

“If it’s so useful, we should gather more and take it back,” said Huang Zhaizi. As an experienced outdoorsman with a deep understanding of the value of these traditional Chinese medicines, he was immediately interested.

Lingao had distinct wet and dry seasons. The summers were hot and humid, creating a high demand for such remedies. The Ministry of Health had already issued a notice requiring the remote exploration team to collect specimens of various medicinal herbs during their surveys.

“No need. It won’t be mature until April,” Bai Guoshi said as he examined the specimen in his hand. He carefully wrapped it, took out his map, compass, and ruler, and marked the location on the map.

“We’ll just collect samples for now. When it’s mature, we’ll come back to harvest the seeds and start a plantation. Yizhi fruit is very valuable; it was one of the earliest cash crops commercially cultivated in Hainan.”

“You really know a lot,” Huang Zhaizi said with admiration.

“It’s all from the history of tropical crops in China. When I was studying this course, I thought it was completely useless. I never imagined it would come in handy now,” Bai Guoshi lamented.

“Heh, a professionally trained person is different from a jack-of-all-trades like me. So specialized!”

“Not at all, I only know a little,” Bai Guoshi replied, blushing. As a recent college graduate, he was still thin-skinned.

The team was delayed for a while before continuing. After less than ten minutes of marching, they stopped again.

“Hold up!” This time it was Cui Yunhong from the middle of the formation.

“Did you find something too?” Ye Mengyan was getting impatient. At this rate, when would they ever get back to base?

“Zhao Xue’s leg is lame.” Cui Yunhong’s report lacked the sense of urgency a man usually has when a woman—especially a young one—is in trouble. It was no surprise: he wasn’t interested in women.

Hearing this, Bai Guoshi forgot about his specimens, tossed them to Huang Zhaizi, and ran towards the center of the formation with all his gear.

Their marching formation was 2-3-2: two point men, three in the middle, and two in the rear, spaced 200 to 300 meters apart and communicating by walkie-talkie.

“Safety first!” he shouted as he saw the young man disappear into the mist—the center of the formation was over two hundred meters away.

Besides the professionals, the team included an IT specialist—Zhao Xue. She was brought along purely because she claimed to be a seasoned outdoor enthusiast, and her computer skills were somewhat helpful for Cui Yunhong’s survey work. The key reason, however, was that Liu Zheng couldn’t resist a pretty girl’s persistent requests, and Bai Guoshi, uncharacteristically, had firmly supported bringing her.

Lacking a local guide and with 400 years of changes altering the terrain, the maps they brought required numerous corrections. Although the remote exploration team had been on reconnaissance missions before, they had never gone far. They had only gone west past the Gaoshan Ridge to the Danzhou border, south to the outskirts of the Li territories, and east into Chengmai County.

This trip into Danzhou was the team’s first deep foray beyond Lingao County. The unfamiliar roads and high state of tension made the physical exertion immense. Four days into the trip, the IT specialist everyone had been worried about finally showed her true colors. Zhao Xue had been full of energy for the first two days, often running nearly a kilometer ahead of the main group when she was on point. During breaks, she would run around, climbing up and down to get good photos. But after four days, she had to be moved to the middle of the formation, and her pace slowed considerably. There was a big difference between long-term fieldwork and short-term hobbyism. Not to mention an amateur, even a veteran like Huang Zhaizi with seven years of outdoor experience found this mission taxing. Cui Yunhong, with his background in geological prospecting, found the intensity to be a piece of cake. Bai Guoshi, due to his major, had considerable outdoor experience and had spent years building up his fitness, so he could barely manage. Seeing Zhao Xue starting to falter, Bai Guoshi naturally showed his concern, but she just said she was fine.

Running closer, he saw Zhao Xue’s gear unloaded on the ground, her pant legs rolled up high, revealing a pair of snow-white calves—living up to her name, Xue (snow). The only thing ruining the view was the bearded Liu Zheng, whose rough, large hands were prodding her small, white knees. In reality, Zhao Xue was 170cm tall, and her knees were by no means small.

“Fluid in both knees,” Liu Zheng concluded after a bit of prodding and squeezing.

“Fluid?” Bai Guoshi wanted to pretend to check Zhao Xue’s knee himself, but he didn’t have the nerve.

“Should be,” Liu Zheng glanced at him, then gave a sly smile when no one was looking. “You feel it too. I’m not entirely sure.”

“Okay, okay.” Bai Guoshi’s face turned red—nothing is more embarrassing than having your private thoughts exposed.

He pretended to touch her knee with his fingers. Due to his nervousness, all he felt was softness, smoothness, and some elasticity. He quickly said, “It should be knee effusion.”

“Yes, a typical sports injury caused by overexertion,” Liu Zheng stated, delivering the conclusion he should have given earlier.

“It’s fine, I can still walk!” Zhao Xue said anxiously. She had a look of stubborn determination, completely oblivious to Bai Guoshi’s less-than-pure thoughts.

“It’s not a major injury, but you shouldn’t overdo it,” Liu Zheng thought for a moment. “Let’s rest for a bit first.”

“I’m fine, I can keep going!”

“Don’t push yourself,” Huang Zhaizi said persuasively. “It’s better to rest before we continue. It’s a pity we don’t have an ice pack; a cold compress might work well.”

Ye Mengyan came back from the point, panting. Seeing the situation, he immediately flared up.

“You guys are just looking for trouble! Why did you have to bring a woman on a mission? Are we shooting a military drama?”

“Xiao Ye, that’s not a nice thing to say. Women hold up half the sky,” Liu Zheng said, trying to smooth things over.

“We need to be united, united!” Huang Zhaizi quickly chimed in. “Men and women are physiologically different; you can’t treat them the same. It’s not easy for a girl to walk this far—she’s also contributing to the collective. Look, you’ve made her cry—”

Everyone turned. Sure enough, Zhao Xue had her face buried in her knees, her shoulders shaking.

“Hmph, all fierce and mighty when she’s fine, but pulls this stunt when she can’t go on,” Ye Mengyan continued, unforgiving.

“Complaining doesn’t solve the problem,” Liu Zheng said, noticing Bai Guoshi’s expression darkening. He wanted to prevent any further drama and quickly put on his captain’s face. “No amount of complaining will change the situation. Let’s rest first, treat the injury, and then decide what to do.”

“Hmph, I don’t need your help, you chauvinist pigs!” Zhao Xue suddenly stood up, slung her gear over her shoulder, and strode forward. Just as the others were about to stop her, she stumbled after less than ten meters and fell to her knees again. Bai Guoshi rushed forward to help her up. Liu Zheng and the others chuckled to themselves.

They rested by the roadside. After some discussion, they decided not to make any more stops unless there was a major discovery and to head directly back to camp. Zhao Xue was moved from the middle to the rear guard, where the two strong laborers, Huang Zhaizi and Bai Guoshi, could help her. She was also excused from night watch duty. After announcing this decision, Liu Zheng quietly nudged Bai Guoshi, “Seize the opportunity.” Just as Bai Guoshi was about to declare that his relationship with Zhao Xue was purely platonic, Liu Zheng had already walked away.

Along the way, Liu Zheng had the point man slow the pace to accommodate the injured. In truth, the non-professionals like Huang Zhaizi and Bai Guoshi were also finding it tough.

The walkie-talkie crackled again. This time it was the point man, Ye Mengyan: “Halt! We have a situation up ahead!”

When Liu Zheng cautiously approached Ye Mengyan in a low posture, he saw a walled city emerging from the dissipating mist on a small hill not far away.

Was it really a city? Liu Zheng wiped the lens of his binoculars in astonishment. According to their intelligence, the only city within a hundred-li radius was Lingao County Town. Where did this walled city come from? Had they gotten lost and ended up at Danzhou?

Several of them quickly opened their maps and compared them for a long time. This was definitely not Danzhou. But it certainly wasn’t Lingao County Town either. After determining their position and checking the map, they realized they were in the area of modern-day Nanbao Town.

“Should we get a closer look?” Huang Zhaizi suggested.

“Alright. Bai Guoshi and Cui Yunhong, stay here and look after Zhao Xue. The rest of you, follow me,” Liu Zheng said, tossing his Remington shotgun to Bai Guoshi. “Be smart. If you see trouble, run. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Understood!” Bai Guoshi said, a little nervous. He watched as the others slowly crept forward.

The best observation point was at the top of the hill, offering an unobstructed view. However, it was bright now, and farmers should be out working. They might run into locals cutting firewood or grass on the hill. The three of them drew their daggers.

The group climbed the small hill without incident. From their hiding spot, the city was about a thousand meters away. This was the closest they could get. Further on was open ground, all converted into paddy fields, with some houses scattered about. People were plowing the fields with oxen.

The city looked small through the binoculars—smaller than Lingao County Town. If it weren’t for the gate tower, the transmigrators would have mistaken it for a fortified village.

“Damn, they’ve got cannons on the gate tower,” Huang Zhaizi muttered, looking through his binoculars.

Liu Zheng remained silent, continuing to scan the city. This was definitely not a village. Through the binoculars, he could see a yamen (government office), rows of brick and tile houses, and a very large open square. No rural village would have these.

“There’s a flagpole in front of the yamen, flying the Ming flag,” Huang Zhaizi reminded him.

“Yes, it looks like some kind of local administrative center,” Liu Zheng said, puzzled. “What could it be?”

The city was peaceful through the binoculars. Not many people were entering or leaving the gates, mostly peasants in ragged clothes. A slovenly soldier in tattered clothes stood at the gate, holding a wooden spear.

Ye Mengyan, having received full reconnaissance training, had already estimated the city’s population based on its size while the others were marveling at the sight—less than a thousand people. From the number, style, and size of the buildings, he deduced that this was likely a military barracks: there were barracks, stables, granaries, and especially a training ground. Although there were only two gates, both had gate towers, and cannons were positioned on the walls.

“I know,” Liu Zheng said, recalling something discussed at a recent joint intelligence committee meeting. “This must be a Weisuo city!”

In the Ming Dynasty, besides the administrative centers of local governments, there were also military garrison cities called Weisuo, which were involved in military farming. In Qiongshan County, besides the county town, there was also the Haikou Hou Qianhusuo (Rear Thousand-household Command) garrison city. In the core area of the Li territories, at the foot of the Limu Mountains and on the banks of the Nandu River, the Shuihui Qianhusuo city was also built.

This small city was likely a similar Weisuo. He just didn’t know which one—that was a job for the historical intelligence group to figure out.

“Take pictures, measure and record the coordinates,” Liu Zheng instructed. “Mark the geological changes on the map to help our troops when they attack. And take more photos.”

A short distance away, Bai Guoshi and the others were getting bored when Cui Yunhong, as if he had discovered a new continent, dragged his large bag and crept down the side of the hill.

Bai Guoshi was startled. “What are you doing?!”

Cui Yunhong waved his hand, signaling him to be quiet. Bai Guoshi lowered his voice, “What did you find?”

“Kaolin clay.”

“What’s kaolin clay?” Zhao Xue asked.

Cui Yunhong picked up a piece of white, rock-like substance and struck it a few times with his geological hammer.

“It’s used to make porcelain,” Bai Guoshi explained.

“Oh,” Zhao Xue said, confused. “But we don’t need to make porcelain, do we? I think our mess kits and enamel bowls are good enough.”

“We do,” Bai Guoshi said. “Sanitary ware, ceramic tiles, all that can be solved now.”

Cui Yunhong shook his head, wondering how to explain the industrial importance of kaolin clay. Making porcelain was important, but kaolin was also an essential whitening agent and filler in the modern paper industry. This discovery was of immense value.

The sample he collected was tubular coal-measure kaolin. Cui Yunhong judged that there should be a coal mine nearby. He remembered reading that there were small coal kilns near Lingao’s Nanbao Town that produced low-quality lignite. The kaolin was likely a companion mineral. At a rough glance, although he couldn’t drill or dig trenches to assess it, the exposed kaolin was widely distributed, indicating that the reserves were worth developing. If they searched carefully, they might even find the coal mine.

Lignite is the lowest rank of coal, between peat and bituminous coal. It has a low calorific value and cannot be used to make coke for steelmaking, but it could serve as fuel or fertilizer. If it could be developed, it would be a very valuable resource.

This expedition was turning out to be quite fruitful. Cui Yunhong was excited and took out his instruments and notebook from his backpack, starting a geophysical survey on the spot.

Bai Guoshi was extremely nervous. He clutched the Remington, looking around anxiously, afraid that a native would suddenly appear—he had never killed anyone before and didn’t want to start now.