Chapter 178: Recruiting Defectors

In addition to revising the legal clauses, simply drafting the legal documents was a major undertaking—a task that ordinary people could not do. It would require the labor of these “unassigned” individuals.

“No problem! Ma Jia, you’re so on the ball, we brothers will definitely help!” a few people immediately promised.

“However, we all have work assigned during the day, so we’ll have to work at night.”

“I’ll talk to Wu De and have him ‘second’ you all to me for a few days.”

Wu De was in favor of establishing a judicial system, so he probably wouldn’t refuse such a secondment. If this secondment wasn’t arranged, not only would this group’s work be entirely voluntary, but it would also have to be done outside of working hours.

Everyone was happy to be able to escape their boring work for a few days and do something in their own field.

Ma Jia took a large gulp of kvass. The members of the Law Club seemed to be in good spirits. This was a good sign. Now was the era of rule by engineers, but in the future, it was very likely to be an era of rule by lawyers, just like in the United States…

After the meeting, Ma Jia submitted a report to Wu De, requesting that these people be “assigned” to work for the maritime court. He also submitted an application to Xiao Zishan, requesting an allocation of office funds—to purchase beverages, cigarettes, and other consumables for when they were working.

Xiao Zishan was very generous. He not only immediately wrote a disbursement order for him but also gave him a special supply purchase certificate, allowing him to purchase some additional “special supply goods.”

In the past, special supply goods were mainly consumer products not produced in this time and space, primarily various foods: including cola, cigarettes, instant noodles, and canned goods, as well as daily necessities and medicines like toilet water, medicated oil, towels, and “ten drops” water. These items were mainly supplied to transmigrators engaged in “heavy physical labor” or “dangerous work,” and sometimes as prizes for individuals who received commendations.

As supplies improved and stocks dwindled, the items on this special supply list also changed. Some items were removed—such as cigarettes, cola, and instant noodles. Others were added. The biggest change was the increase in products produced by local industry. In fact, many items were not “high-end,” but their supply was limited due to production capacity constraints. For example, the several types of popsicles made in the Fengcheng’s cold storage, although the ingredients were only fruit, green beans, red beans, sugar, and filtered water, were supplied on a per-capita basis. Every transmigrator, regardless of age or gender, was allocated one per day. Children under 13 received an additional one.

Ma Jia looked at the items on the special supply purchase certificate: “Leizhou Sugar Industry” Rum (750ml), limited to one bottle per day; Lincheng brand cigarettes, limited to one 10-pack per person per day. Although there were only two items, the signal they sent was quite intriguing.

“It seems many people in the Executive Committee are optimistic about us,” Ma Jia said to himself.

Only he clearly understood why the attitudes of the Executive Committee members were so strangely different.

“It’s been almost a year since we landed,” Ma Jia muttered, putting the slip into his pocket.

While the members of the Law Club were busy with the case of the five-masted ship and the pirates, a guest arrived in Bopu.

This person arrived in Bopu on a small fishing boat. According to the recent state of emergency, all ships arriving in the waters between Lincheng and Xuwen had to undergo inspection. When the marines boarded to inspect, the man lied and claimed to be a merchant selling rice in Lincheng—the boat was indeed full of grain. After landing, he revealed his identity to the naval officer on duty at the pier: he was an envoy of Zhu Cailao. He was Shi Shisi, the pirate chieftain captured during Zhu Cailao’s “fishing” operation last year.

At that time, Ma Qianzhu had released him to negotiate peace with Zhu Cailao. But after he left, there was no news. Since then, Zhu Cailao had not been very active in the waters near Qiongzhou. The matter of peace talks was put on hold.

As soon as Shi Shisi arrived in Bopu, he demanded to see “Chief Ma,” bringing with him Zhu Cailao’s terms for peace talks and a letter.

In the letter, Zhu Cailao’s tone was very firm. He stated that he was willing to negotiate peace with the “Australians,” but the Australian group must compensate him for all his losses in Lincheng due to the destruction of the Gou family—he was not interested in the transmigrator group’s proposal to grant him a patent for the export trade of glass as compensation. He directly demanded that the transmigrator group pay forty thousand Spanish silver dollars as compensation, and also provide him with an equal amount of silver as a loan, for which he was willing to pay a monthly interest of two percent. In addition, he specifically requested that the transmigrator group provide cannons and gunpowder, and if possible, build some ships for him. He was willing to pay for these with cash or goods.

Although the tone of the letter was very arrogant, with a strong sense of “a great man does not concern himself with the trifles of lesser men” and “if you don’t agree, I’ll attack immediately,” after studying it for a long time, Ma Qianzhu felt that the letter was more bluster than substance. Zhu Cailao’s urgent demand for money, weapons, and ships clearly exposed his desperate need for support.

“If we had the strength now, we could set up a maritime Blackwater company and go mess around. Zheng Zhilong would have a headache,” said Chen Haiyang, who was studying the letter with him.

“If we had that kind of strength, we would have already wiped him out and taken his ships and men,” Ma Qianzhu said, holding the letter, truly undecided. “We still have too little intelligence,” he said regretfully.

Besides the bits and pieces of historical records the Intelligence Committee dug up from old books, the intelligence the transmigrator group could obtain about pirate groups mainly came from materials collected by the Guangzhou station in various coastal areas of Guangdong. The characteristic of this intelligence was that it was mostly hearsay and very chaotic. Even the news from the official dispatches of the Guangdong Governor, Provincial Inspector, and Viceroy’s yamen was just as chaotic. A major pirate leader often had several different names. Yu E’shui had already made a list of duplicate names to avoid having to check books every time new intelligence came in.

Ma Qianzhu did not know that Zhu Cailao had had a very difficult year. His northern fleet, which originally operated in the Fujian seas, had been scattered by the joint siege of the Ming army and Zheng Zhilong. At this critical juncture, the “Australians” appeared out of nowhere and dealt him a stunning blow—the Gou family was his largest outlet for stolen goods and a place to hide his loot. This loss was enough to make him vomit blood. The sudden financial strain put his payroll in jeopardy, and his subordinates became seriously unstable. A portion of his men and ships immediately dispersed. Zhu Cailao was not unwilling to come to Lincheng for revenge and to reclaim his property, but the situation at sea was complex. The pressure from Liu Xiang forced him to deal with this suddenly rising junior first. After the failed attempt to seize the ships, he led his southern fleet north to Fujian, hoping to gain enough profit there to rebuild his fleet—at that time, foreign trade in the Fujian seas was extremely prosperous. The routes to Japan and the trade with the Dutch, who were entrenched in Tayouan Port in Taiwan, were both highly profitable businesses.

After arriving in the Fujian seas, he gathered many scattered men and ships and raided several land targets to replenish his supplies and funds. Zhu Cailao’s power was restored. But Zheng Zhilong had long considered all maritime trade in the Fujian seas his private domain, so he naturally did not welcome Zhu Cailao’s arrival. Li Kuiqi was even more dissatisfied with his taking advantage of the situation. Conflicts constantly broke out between the various parties in the Fujian seas. Zhu Cailao’s financial situation was relatively poor, and he gradually fell behind in the struggle.

Under these circumstances, Zhu Cailao intended to retreat to eastern Guangdong, but Liu Xiang, who had already established a firm foothold in the eastern Guangdong seas, did not want him to return. The first batch of returning ships was intercepted by Liu Xiang’s fleet at the border of Fujian and Guangdong. The two sides fought a major battle, and although it was a draw, Zhu Cailao’s passive situation did not improve at all.

“You’ve had a long journey. Go and rest first,” Ma Qianzhu said amiably. He then ordered someone to take him to the merchant’s lodge in Dongmen Market. As for his men and the sailors on the ship, they were arranged to stay at the sailors’ inn in Bopu.

The Executive Committee immediately held an emergency meeting to discuss Zhu Cailao’s peace terms. To be honest, they were not harsh. The spoils they had obtained from the Gou family definitely exceeded forty thousand Spanish silver dollars, and he was willing to pay interest on the loan he proposed.

“Zhu Cailao won’t live much longer,” Yu E’shui said. “Negotiating peace with him now is worthless, unless we plan to form an alliance with him.”

Historically, Zhu Cailao would be defeated by Zheng Zhilong while attacking Min’an in August of this year, and then be completely wiped out at Nanri.

Obviously, the main issue for the transmigrator group to discuss was: should they change history and save the Zhu Cailao group?

Some were in favor. The existence of the Zhu Cailao group could, after all, tie down Zheng Zhilong and, by extension, the Liu Xiang group. From the transmigrator group’s perspective, the more forces and chaos on the sea, the better. With their maritime strength, it was not a problem to protect their trade and shipping to Guangdong from interruption amidst the chaos, but they still lacked the strength for a large-scale naval battle.

Others believed that saving the Zhu Cailao group was unnecessary. Firstly, they were not yet able to absorb this maritime force. Secondly, once they reached an agreement with him, they would likely have to bear more and more responsibilities, which the transmigrator group was very reluctant to do.

Wen Desi was not interested in an alliance. In his view, the investment was too large and not cost-effective. To save the Zhu Cailao group, they would have to provide him with financial support and sell him weapons as he requested. Unfortunately, the transmigrators were not rich in either. Even if the numbers could be negotiated, it would still be a large sum. Besides, cannons and gunpowder were also urgently needed by the transmigrator group itself.

“I believe the amount Zhu Cailao proposed is by no means an exorbitant demand, but rather what he genuinely needs to operate his fleet. And this may just be the beginning.”

Once they started investing in this venture, it could very well become a bottomless pit. If the Zhu Cailao group’s situation did not improve with their support—which was very likely, as most of the Executive Committee members were not arrogant enough to think they could change the course of history at will—even if he didn’t come asking for more help, the transmigrator group would have to keep increasing their stake to save their investment. Such things often start with the intention of spending a little money to achieve great things, but end up with more and more money being spent and the situation getting worse. Just look at how the Americans got bogged down in Vietnam.

This was a case of “different times, different circumstances,” Ma Qianzhu thought. When Si Loubaining had suggested peace talks, it was to stabilize Zhu Cailao, making some concessions without affecting their core interests, to avoid or delay a large-scale retaliation as much as possible, all to buy more time for the construction of Lincheng.

Whether it was the transmigrator group’s luck or Liu Xiang’s containment, Zhu Cailao did not make a move when they were at their weakest. The most critical period had passed. Negotiating peace with Zhu Cailao now had little value. If Yu E’shui’s historical information was accurate, Zhu Cailao had less than two months to live. What benefit would it bring them to help him extend his life?

The biggest benefit would be to maintain another force at sea to tie down Liu Xiang and Zheng Zhilong.

But as the Intelligence Committee’s research on this period of history deepened, Yu E’shui boldly predicted that the chaos in the Fujian and Guangdong seas would continue for at least three to four years. After all, historically, it took Zheng Zhilong until the eighth year of the Chongzhen era to eliminate Liu Xiang. One more or one less Zhu Cailao would not have a major impact on the transmigrators. Perhaps it would be better if Zhu Cailao, who had already formally become their enemy, were to perish.

At this moment, Yu E’shui was speaking: “…Gentlemen, it is now the end of June 1629 in the solar calendar. In less than a month, Zhu Cailao will be defeated by the Ming army in Min’an, Fujian, and then annihilated by Zheng Zhilong at Nanri. In this last remaining month, how do we plan to influence him?”

“Tell him not to attack Min’an, and not to go to Nanri when he flees—”

“First, we don’t know if he will listen to our advice. Second, our knowledge of the details of this period of history is very limited. So it’s difficult to make a comprehensive judgment. If he asks us, ‘If I don’t attack Min’an, where should I attack?’ who has the ability to come up with a strategy that is beneficial to both him and us?”

No one could think of anything.

“So what we need to do is not to save him, but to act as vultures,” Yu E’shui used an unpleasant but vivid analogy, “…to gain as much practical benefit as possible from his corpse after his demise.”

The so-called practical benefit was not gold and silver, but the personnel and ships of the Zhu Cailao group—the things Chen Haiyang had always wanted.

The task of recruiting Zhu Cailao’s subordinates fell to the Enemy Work Department of the General Political Security Department, officially codenamed “Operation Banyan.”

Ran Yao summoned his secret weapon in the office of the General Political Security Department.

“Please ask the Director of the Enemy Work Department to come to the office.”

“Yes, sir,” the teenage messenger, Hu Lai, performed a Prussian-style heel-click, turned, and ran out. The students from the Military and Political Academy who served as administrative apprentices at the General Political Security Department were all of the “deeply wronged and resentful” type, having basically arrived with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Ran Yao’s political screening standards for recruitment were even stricter than the Executive Committee’s: no relatives, preferably not even remembering their own surname; preferably not remembering their hometown; having suffered great hardship, and it was best if they had been saved by the transmigrators. Finally, they had to pass a series of tests. Any child who showed signs of being greedy, hyperactive, weak, or talkative would be eliminated.

Lin Baiguang, the Director of the Enemy Work Department, quickly walked in. He was formerly the deputy director of a county party committee office in some county and had his own set of ideas about being an official. He had climbed to a considerable position at a young age. But his ambition was far greater than being a civil servant in a dusty little town. Ran Yao knew that this person was a typical Chinese-style bureaucrat, always with a smile on his face, always speaking in a structured manner, always commenting on things with restraint, a strong drinker who never got drunk; sometimes he treated people better than his own brother, and he could also turn his back on people at any time.

Ran Yao also knew that this person had brought all his ballast in the form of daily necessities, including dozens of cartons of cigarettes—yet he had never seen him smoke. Every time Ran Yao convened a meeting of the General Security Department, there would be one or two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes of unknown origin on the table, which he presumed were from him.

The most suspicious thing was that he had a solar-powered PDA, which he often looked at at night, sometimes writing something. No one knew what he was writing. Ran Yao believed that he was definitely not writing a novel, but more likely a diary or something similar. It could even be a blacklist.

Once, when Ran Yao was discussing work with Ma Qianzhu, Ma Qianzhu had inexplicably said:

“Does anyone in your department keep a diary?”

At that time, Ran Yao didn’t realize what the Chief was talking about and could only vaguely say no. Ma Qianzhu did not continue the topic.

Later, Wen Desi once made a strange comment to him in private: “Keeping a diary is a good habit. You should pay more attention to comrades with such habits.”

It took Ran Yao a month or two to realize what they were talking about.

How did they know that the Director of the Enemy Work Department had such a habit? Obviously, there was someone he didn’t know in the General Political Security Department or the Internal Affairs Committee who was directly reporting intelligence to the leaders of the Executive Committee.

This deduction was not surprising to Ran Yao, who was used to public security work. It was impossible for such a powerful department to be completely under his control. Just as he had secretly planted the “Ten-Man Group” in the Army and Navy.

However, Lin Baiguang’s work ability was indeed very strong, and his work attitude was very positive, almost divine. He not only quickly learned the difficult and obscure Lincheng dialect but also taught himself Cantonese, Minnan dialect, and Nanjing Mandarin. Recently, he discovered that this person was repeatedly reciting a strange dialect in the morning.

“This is Manchu,” he replied to those who asked.

Ran Yao thought to himself: this kid’s ambition is really not small—but ambition is what drives motivation.

Lin Baiguang walked in.

“Sit,” Ran Yao got straight to the point. “I’ve just accepted a mission from the Executive Committee. Your Enemy Work Department will be responsible for this task.”

“Understood. What is the mission?”

Ran Yao briefly conveyed the Executive Committee’s intentions.

“Well, have you considered how to proceed?”

“It’s difficult,” Lin Baiguang replied seriously. “We have no ‘connections’ to exploit within the pirate groups. So far, the only contact we have is Zhang Youfu—but he is only connected to the periphery of the pirates, and we cannot yet determine if he is reliable.”