Chapter 78: The Sweet Harbor Tempest - Severing a Limb

Lin Zhuang’s heart grew colder with every word. He hadn’t expected things to change so drastically in the past week. As he was worrying about how to resolve the situation, a verbal conflict erupted between the sugar masters and the laborers. They argued about whether to cause trouble, who should do it, and whether to “restore the old ways.”

These two groups had always had a rift due to their income disparity, only temporarily united by a common enemy. After Chen Tianxiong’s work of “pitting the masses against the masses,” the laborers felt that since they were just working, doing it for Huanan was the same. There was no need to “restore the old ways”—it wouldn’t benefit them anyway.

Lin Zhuang calculated in his mind: Chen Tianxiong’s move of pulling the rug out from under him had completely demoralized his side. It was impossible to proceed with the incense-burning ceremony as planned. If he couldn’t act on time, he wouldn’t be able to answer to Third Master Zhu, and the Haiyi Guild would never trust him again. For his own future, it was better to side with Huanan. At least then, he could still get his twenty percent kickback from the settlement pay. Whether he stayed in Xuwen or not, he would have capital for whatever he did next.

Having made up his mind, he went to Huanan that very night to seek an audience with Chen Tianxiong.

Once a lackey turns traitor, they are always ruthless in selling out their former master’s interests. With his full support, Huanan’s “pacification” of the unemployed sugar mill workers went smoothly. Liao Daxing, following Chen Tianxiong’s instructions, had already prepared a large batch of blank employment contracts, stamped by the county yamen’s household registration office. All the necessary intermediaries and guarantors were in place. The workers only needed to fill in their names and press their thumbprints to complete the contract. The entire process took less than half a day.

A storm was thus quickly quelled. The laborers, needless to say, finally had their livelihoods secured. Even the sugar masters, who had been most opposed to Huanan, yielded to the overwhelming trend. After all, if they couldn’t cause trouble, the “old ways of sugar making” would not be restored, and they and their families still needed to eat. Practical needs are always the most powerful force. In the end, apart from a very small number who refused to join Huanan, most of them signed contracts and became workers.

After signing the employment contract, each person immediately received a Spanish silver dollar and half a shi of rice as a settlement provision. They were then given a month’s leave to go home and settle their families.

Wen Tong’s purpose in doing this was to avoid a sudden influx of too many strangers into the factory. Although a major threat to Huanan had been eliminated, the situation was still unstable. It was hard to guarantee that there weren’t Haiyi Guild members mixed in with the workers, ready to infiltrate Huanan and cause sabotage. Even without such people, new workers just entering the factory with not enough work to do could easily stir up trouble out of boredom.

So, it was better to send them all back for now. There would be plenty of time to deal with them after things were settled.

The few workers who were homeless or whose homes were far away were taken in by the Huanan sugar company, which arranged for their accommodation and meals. However, Wen Tong also prepared work for them: helping to build houses on the empty land outside the south gate of the Huanan Sugar Factory, constructing a simple “workers’ village.” Ma Sanqiang, due to his prestige among the crowd, became the leader of this group of workers.

The smooth resolution of this matter was a relief even to the county magistrate. After all, any major brawl would have affected his performance evaluation, and besides, the unemployed workers had a legitimate grievance. Huanan’s willingness to take a loss to resolve the issue earned them considerable goodwill from the magistrate.

Third Master Zhu smashed a cup. For several days, the entire Zhu residence was deathly silent; not even a cough could be heard.

Lin Zhuang, on the other hand, completely disappeared from Xuwen. Some said he took two hundred silver dollars from Huanan and left Xuwen to escape Third Master Zhu’s wrath. Others said he was dead, his body found on the county border between Xuwen and Haikang, without a single coin on him. As for who killed him, some said it was Third Master Zhu, who hated him for being a traitor; others said it was Huanan, who killed him to silence him after he had served his purpose. Or perhaps he was simply killed by robbers for his money.

The sugar from Leizhou continued to pour into Huanan’s warehouses. The atmosphere in the Haiyi Guild had become extremely tense. The owners and managers of the various sugar companies, who had previously followed Third Master Zhu’s every word, now began to question him. Although no one had openly voiced their doubts, Third Master Zhu knew that day was not far off.

If he couldn’t deal with Huanan, not only would his reputation be ruined, but the Haiyi Guild itself would instantly collapse.

Zhu An was in a state of panic. It was the first time he had encountered such a resilient and powerful opponent. The most immediate and effective options were murder and arson. A swift, decisive blow might end Huanan’s existence at once. But the vast, shadowy power behind Huanan made him hesitate. If Huanan suffered such a major loss, their backers would not let it go. This wasn’t like killing a small, out-of-town merchant who was buying sugar privately in the countryside, nor was it like burning down a rival shipping company.

News from Guangzhou offered a sliver of comfort: the silver supply in Guangzhou was tight recently, and it was difficult to mobilize one or two hundred thousand taels. Huanan’s own silver reserves were likely at their limit. If he could just hold on a little longer, perhaps things could still turn around.

He immediately sent another five thousand taels to Gu Dachun, telling them to buy cannons and add ships as soon as possible, expand their fleet, and completely blockade Haian Port. As long as the sugar ships couldn’t get out and the silver ships couldn’t get in, Huanan would still be finished.

The transmigrators at Huanan had already anticipated Zhu An’s calculations in their meetings. Breaking the naval blockade was now a matter for the Navy to handle; they didn’t need to worry about it. The key was to deal with potential sabotage like arson. For the people of this time, the simplest, most effective, and hardest-to-prevent form of revenge was arson. It was the most common method used by tenants and servants to rebel against their masters. Arson was a serious crime, but it was difficult to investigate in ancient society. The entire Huanan Sugar Factory was filled with flammable materials; a fire would be spectacular.

Fortunately, the geography of the Huanan Sugar Factory was favorable. It stood alone on a piece of wasteland, with a river on one side, a main road on another, and a large part of a third side protected by the Nanmen Pond. The fourth side, originally a large open space, was now being developed into the “workers’ village.” This reduced the number of areas that needed heavy defense. Mei Lin tirelessly directed the ongoing construction: building firewalls on all four sides and digging firebreaks—especially between the workers’ village and the factory. They also dug reservoirs within the factory grounds for firefighting. The area for drying sugarcane bagasse was isolated from the workshops, warehouses, and living quarters by firewalls to ensure that even if a fire broke out, it wouldn’t spread to other buildings. Wen Tong also had Liao Dahua prepare firefighting equipment like torches, lanterns, hooks, buckets, and axes. They even acquired two hand-pumped water carts and had the core militia double as a fire brigade, training daily.

Bei Wei improved the original security system and trained the militia. He arranged for night shifts and emergency communication methods. He established an emergency assembly signal for the able-bodied men in the Huanan factory area and conducted several nighttime assembly and firefighting drills. After a few days, the hastily formed militia began to look well-trained.

In addition to defense, they also prepared for offense. With the guidance of a local like Xiao Zhanfeng, intelligence gathered by the Qiwei Escort Agency, and information from the newly recruited unemployed workers, Chen Tianxiong compiled a very detailed intelligence file. It included a map of Haian Street, the locations of important targets, and traffic conditions. He even managed to obtain the layout of the Haiyi Guild, the location of Third Master Zhu’s residence, and so on—Lin Zhuang’s contribution was the greatest in this regard. Zhu An’s personal habits and movements were also known. They even used a digital camera with a telephoto lens to take photos of the main members of the Haiyi Guild, their families, and their key subordinates, creating individual files.

A hall in the sugar company was completely sealed off and became Bei Wei’s command center. He and his special reconnaissance team developed several contingency plans: Plan A was to ambush and kill Zhu An on the road; Plan B was to attack his residence and kill him; Plan C was to commit arson against the Haiyi Guild; and Plan D was a near-massacre.

Plan D was the most terrifying: within twelve hours, the special reconnaissance team would kill all the key personnel of the Haiyi Guild, including the owners, managers, and stewards of each shop, and even their families.

“That’s too cruel, too much killing,” Wen Tong said.

“It’s just a contingency plan,” Bei Wei explained. “It’s better to be prepared.”

“I declare that I absolutely do not agree with such a bloody approach.”

Bei Wei didn’t respond. He felt it was unnecessary to explain what a “contingency plan” was to someone who didn’t understand, and it would be futile anyway. In fact, while developing these plans, he had also created a set of “Earthly Branch” plans for a potential retreat in case of failure, with four variations. Seeing how seriously Wen Tong took the contingency plans, he felt it was even more unnecessary to show them to him—it would only cause more alarm.

Lingao, Bopu Port.

The Great Whale was docked in the harbor. The deck and hull, blackened from transporting coal, had been scrubbed clean by the diligent navy sailors and shipyard workers.

Chang Shide’s prospecting in Vietnam had lasted for about two weeks, and he had finally selected several open-pit mining sites for coal. He had originally planned to return with a full load of coal, but the Great Whale’s structure was not well-suited for carrying unpackaged bulk cargo, so he only brought back less than a hundred tons of coal to Lingao.

This discovery greatly encouraged the industrial department, but it also presented a major challenge for the foreign affairs department: how to occupy Hong Gai?

Sailing over with a few cannons and conquering a country was still a bit beyond the transmigrators’ capabilities. With the sugar industry in Leizhou still unresolved, opening another front for mining felt like a stretch. The Executive Committee was holding special discussions on how to fully exploit the Hong Gai coal mines.

Chang Shide, of course, did not participate in the Executive Committee’s discussions, nor did he return directly to Leizhou—he was still concerned about the rice he had stockpiled in Vietnam. This delay inadvertently gave Gu Dachun an advantage, allowing him to capture the Guangbing. Otherwise, the Gu family pirates would have been cursing their bad luck.

Currently, the Great Whale was preparing for a special mission. To be precise, it was a fishing expedition. The fish to be caught were the Gu family pirates. The Great Whale was the bait, a bait large enough to swallow the fisherman.

On the dock, full sacks of grain were piled up, ready to be loaded. Thanks to the efforts of the mechanical department, the level of mechanized loading and unloading at Bopu was getting higher and higher. Not only had the number of simple, man-powered cranes increased to four, but a large steam-powered crane had also been installed. To meet the demand for bulk cargo logistics at Bopu, the mechanical department was researching conveyor belts and grab cranes. Once installed, the efficiency of loading and unloading salt, rice, iron ore, and coal would increase tenfold, freeing up a large amount of labor from the docks.

Two hundred shi of rice were to be transported to Xuwen, directly allocated to Huanan from the Planning Committee’s inventory. With a reliable source of Vietnamese rice, Ma Qianzhu had become much more generous in allocating grain. According to the Navy’s speculation, the pirates likely had informants in Xuwen’s ports, such as Haian Street. Therefore, the risk of an incident while entering the port was relatively low, so they could safely transport a shipment of grain along the way.

The Naval Department had discussed how to clear out the pirates near Haian Street. Everyone agreed that sending warships out to sweep the area would not be very effective—unless they indiscriminately attacked any ship they saw. Otherwise, the enemy could easily disguise themselves as civilian ships and evade detection.

For the transmigrator navy, dealing with such low-level pirates was a piece of cake. The only considerations were minimizing their own losses and ensuring the complete eradication of the threat.

The best method was to strike directly at their lair and wipe them out completely. But the transmigrators lacked intelligence on this front.

So, the most effective option was “fishing,” which was also the suggestion Chen Tianxiong had made. Fortunately, the enemy’s intentions were clear, making it quite easy to lure them into a trap.

Using the Great Whale as bait was a good choice. The ship had a unique design, and the pirates would know at a glance that it belonged to Huanan, making it an easily recognizable target.

Wu De took charge of this mission. All the professional naval officers were out exploring for resources. He was the only remaining former naval officer in Lingao, so this heavy burden naturally fell on his shoulders.

The plan was to fish, but to catch the fish cleanly and efficiently, they had to seize the initiative.

The transmigrators were in the open, while the enemy was in the shadows. The Navy was unfamiliar with the sea conditions off the coast of Xuwen, and the enemy’s attack was likely to occur in coastal waters. This area was dotted with islands and reefs, and the enemy was much more familiar with the local sea conditions. They could use the favorable natural environment to hide, observe the transmigrators’ movements, and choose the most opportune moment to attack the Great Whale.

The initiative! He was deeply troubled by this problem.