Chapter 187: Camp Hysteria

“Of course, we stand on the side of the soldiers. They are the ones shedding blood and sweat for the great cause of transmigration. We cannot cool their hearts!” Ma Qianzhu said without hesitation. “But I understand what you mean: our own hands are not clean.” He gave a sarcastic smile. “Actually, in my opinion, this is not an issue at all. The main problem is you people—always trying to flirt with the feudal landlords.”

Wu De gave a dry laugh and said nothing. Ma Jia also maintained a reserved silence; he never participated in such politically charged topics.

“Since a direct confiscatory nationalization is inconvenient, let’s go with a redemption-style nationalization. For those servants who perform well and are willing to work with us long-term, we will provide the funds to redeem them,” Ma Qianzhu said after venting his frustration.

Wu De nodded. This was probably the only way to have the best of both worlds.

Ma Jia then offered his opinion: “Adopting a redemption system is relatively less harmful to the interests of both parties. The redemption price can be set in several tiers based on the servant’s age and gender, with a unified price determined after referencing the market situation.”

“No haggling with the landlords,” Ma Qianzhu said. “A maximum price must be set. A hundred taels for a girl is not acceptable.”

“Strictly speaking, this is a compulsory redemption. The master has to agree whether he is willing or not. The price is actually symbolic,” Ma Jia said.

“Runaway slaves—”

“We naturally won’t bother with runaway slaves. We’ll just default to them being free people. What else can we do—send them back to their masters?”

“Of course not,” Wu De said. “For runaway slaves from other places, as long as they become part of our system, we will not recognize their past servitude.”

“As for local runaway slaves,” he continued, “we can help them redeem themselves as you just said.”

“We can set a statute of limitations—say, one year. If the master comes to claim them within a year, we will pay for their redemption according to policy. After that time, the deed of servitude will be declared invalid,” Ma Jia said.

“That’s good, it’s reasonable and well-founded,” Wu De expressed his approval.

“Do as you please. As long as our red flag doesn’t fall in Bairen City, you can make any legal provisions you want,” Ma Qianzhu said nonchalantly.

Ma Jia left the Executive Committee compound and returned to the cafe at the farm. The members of the Law Club were buried in their files, some flipping through books, some writing documents, and occasionally, people would whisper and discuss something. The tables were piled with paper scrolls, file folders, ink bottles, unwashed pen nibs, and inkstones for grinding ink—the dip pens were now using pine soot ink bought from Guangzhou, a perfect collaboration between modern and traditional.

Empty kvass jugs, wine bottles, cups, clay ashtrays full of cigarette butts, and plates with leftover food were scattered everywhere. It looked like a garbage dump.

“Everyone’s been working hard!” Ma Jia greeted them. “How’s the progress?”

An Xi replied, “It’s almost done. There are still a few documents that will be ready soon.”

“Let’s put in a final push. Those merchants have been waiting in Bopu for over a week. Let’s get this done so they can be on their way,” Ma Jia encouraged everyone while pouring himself a small glass of rum and downing it.

“So, the ‘Maritime Law’ has been officially approved?”

“Yes, it passed. It wasn’t easy!”

A small cheer erupted from the people who were hard at work.

An Xi said, “We were worried while we were working today. If it didn’t pass, or if major revisions were needed, a lot of our work here would have been in vain.”

“There are still places that need to be revised and adjusted, but they are generally within our expectations,” Ma Jia said. “It might involve some minor changes. The case of the five-masted ship needs to be revised.” He took a document from his bag. “There are over twenty revisions.”

“Alright, we’ll correct them immediately.”

Ma Jia nodded. The stimulation of the strong liquor made him break out in a sweat, followed by a feeling of exhausted weakness. The three-hour, article-by-article discussion of the “Maritime Law” in the Executive Committee meeting room last night had left him exhausted. Many members of the Executive Committee had strongly opposed some of the clauses.

He had anticipated that something involving the redistribution of interests would not pass easily. Although the leaders of some departments might not directly oppose it themselves, they would certainly send people to “open fire” fiercely. If he lost in the hearing stage, there would be no hope for the subsequent vote. So, before the meeting, Ma Jia mobilized all the members of the Law Club to conduct mock Q&A sessions for every possible objection from each department.

“We must absolutely avoid being stumped at the meeting, and our answers must be logically sound,” Ma Jia said at the preparation meeting.

Fortunately, students who graduated with a law degree had a certain advantage in logic and critical thinking. The preparation was perfect, but there were many capable people in the world, and the transmigrator group was no exception. At the meeting, Ma Jia could see that several committee members had come prepared. It seemed they also had high-level guidance. If he hadn’t done his homework thoroughly, Ma Jia wouldn’t have dared to say he could gain an advantage in this internal discussion.

Until the final vote was cast, he dared not say for sure that his plan would pass.

The rescued merchants and sailors from the five-masted ship, who had been temporarily detained in Bopu, had spent seven or eight days in a state of anxiety. After coming ashore, their treatment was not bad. Someone took them to bathe and change their clothes. They were housed in a large rectangular building. Several large buckets of ginger soup were also brought over to ward off the cold. Their personal belongings were all returned to them, but the living quarters were a bit crowded—there had been frequent storms at sea recently, and many fishermen had come to seek shelter. A room that was supposed to house twenty people was now packed with over forty. They were also supplied with two meals of hot porridge a day. The rice was brown rice, but it was unadulterated and they could eat their fill.

Except for going to the toilet, these people were not allowed to leave the room. There were sentries at the door. Anyone who went out to the toilet had to get a “toilet tally” from the sentry at the door before they could go out.

Even if they could go out, all they could see was a courtyard paved with bricks and stones. There were several similar houses in the courtyard, all of which seemed to be full. The courtyard was surrounded by a bamboo fence, densely covered with thorny climbing plants. The main gate of the courtyard was also guarded by sentries. At night, bonfires were lit. The feeling was like being in a large prison.

In fact, the place they were staying was the Bopu Port Detention Center, which was specially designed to accommodate and entertain fishermen, sailors, and merchants who were temporarily stranded here due to storms, shipwrecks, and the like. Housing them in a centralized manner was for quarantine and counter-espionage considerations.

This situation made them very uneasy—could it be that they had become “fat sheep”? Were the people who had rescued them from the pirates another group of pirates? Looking at the soldiers with matchlocks on their backs outside the house, it was indeed possible. At the thought of this terrible prospect, some lamented their fate. Some small merchants calculated that being robbed by pirates had already caused them heavy losses. If they were to be extorted for ransom now, they would be ruined. They couldn’t help but sigh all day long.

They had already learned from the person in charge of the temporary detention center that this was Lincheng and that they were under the control of the Australians. The reputation of the Australians was now somewhat known to people along the coast of Guangdong. Most people knew that their goods were often beyond what ordinary people could make. They hadn’t expected them to be so formidable in battle! Thinking about how these overseas visitors would deal with them, the shipwrecked victims were all on edge. Some wanted to spend money to get some information, but to no avail. Neither the managers inside nor the sentries on guard paid any attention to bribes. Their refusal to accept bribes and their silence made everyone even more anxious.

The breakfast sent this morning was particularly good. Besides the porridge being mixed with a lot of fish and shellfish, there were also vegetables. After they finished eating and the laborers had cleaned up, someone came to tell them to pack their luggage.

“Uh, Chief Chen, what’s the matter with telling us to pack our luggage?” someone in the group inquired.

“Good news. Congratulations, everyone,” the person called Chief Chen was an old man from the immigrant population, named Chen Zhonghuan. He was one of the first mainland immigrants to move to Lincheng from Guangdong after D-Day. Because he was a fisherman by trade, his household registration was in the Bopu Commune. Chen Zhonghuan fell seriously ill right after arriving in Lincheng and was on the verge of death. He was saved by a doctor from the Ministry of Health. From then on, he regarded the “Australians” as his benefactors and was very enthusiastic about everything he did. Because he was old and weak, Wu De gave him a sinecure, specifically managing the port’s temporary detention center.

But these words made the faces of the group turn ashen. Chen Zhonghuan thought of himself as something like an innkeeper, but this group saw him as a jailer. In prison, the word “congratulations” was the biggest taboo. To say it meant you were sending someone to their death!

What was worse was that this morning’s breakfast was particularly sumptuous. This was originally Wu De’s good intention—to let these victims of pirates have a good meal before they left, to leave a good impression of the transmigrator group. Unexpectedly, it was seen as a “last meal.” The room immediately fell into chaos. Some cried, some shouted, and some fainted on the spot. Chen Zhonghuan was stunned, waving his hands frantically, “Are you all possessed? You’re going home soon, what’s there to cry about?”

The words “going home” further deepened the misunderstanding, and the scene became even more chaotic. Despair is contagious. This group of people had survived a near-death experience at sea, and after being rescued, they had been constantly anxious about their future. Now, hearing that they were going to be taken out and executed, the long-accumulated pressure erupted all at once. With a scream from someone unknown:

“I don’t want to die!” the room was instantly filled with cries and shouts.

“No one is going to die—” Chen Zhonghuan was startled, thinking how did it come to this.

But no matter how he shouted and explained, his voice was drowned out by the cries and shouts of dozens of people. Chen Zhonghuan was so scared that he quickly called the soldiers on guard outside the door. The entry of the soldiers with their gleaming bayonets made the people inside even more desperate—everyone thought they were about to be killed. Some simply knelt on the ground motionless, ready to be executed; others banged their heads against the walls; some randomly grabbed the person next to them and started fighting. The weak were trampled underfoot, screaming in pain. Some were already bleeding… the scene was a mess.

“Damn it! It’s camp hysteria!” the incoming sentry was Huang An’de. Since returning to Lincheng with Liu San, Wu De had seen that he was tall and strong, and had a military background, so he let him return to his old profession. Huang An’de had settled in. Now, Huang An’de was still an education soldier undergoing training in the new recruit training camp. Today, it was his turn to stand guard at the detention center.

“What smile?” Chen Zhonghuan said anxiously.

“It’s camp hysteria!” Huang An’de was a soldier by trade and knew the terror of this situation.

So-called “camp hysteria” often occurs in places like military camps or prisons. It’s crowded, the living space is small, and the entire group is under great mental stress, on the verge of collapse. Once someone shouts out from a nightmare, it often triggers a chain reaction in others, causing the entire group to fall into a state of hysteria, even killing each other. The consequences are very serious, with countless casualties.

Huang An’de had witnessed camp hysteria when he was a soldier in Shandong. When it got chaotic, not to mention a few soldiers, even a general or a commander couldn’t suppress it. With just a few of them, let alone stopping it, rushing in would probably mean certain death!

“Quick, come out,” Huang An’de quickly pulled Chen Zhonghuan out of the room. The other sentry also ran out, his face pale with fear.

Huang An’de led his men back a dozen steps. He took a cartridge from his waist and capped the musket in one smooth motion—this 25-step loading procedure was something he had practiced to perfection among the education soldiers of his term.

Holding the loaded gun, he calmed down. He remembered the training on how to handle emergencies that he had learned before standing guard. He shouted at the dazed Chen Zhonghuan:

“Quick, ring the alarm bell!”

“I’m on it!” The old man’s legs suddenly became nimble, and he actually ran out.

The education soldier standing with him was trembling as he tried to load his gun. He tried several times but couldn’t get the cap on.

“Don’t panic!” Huang An’de said to him to calm him down. “What’s your name?”

“Qian—Qian—Duo!”

“Looks like you don’t have much money,” Huang An’de joked.

“Yes, yes. A poor man,” Qian Duo’s emotions stabilized a little, and he finally got the cap on. “What if they rush out? Do we shoot?”

“It’s fine, they won’t rush out,” Huang An’de knew that during camp hysteria, people usually fought each other on the spot and rarely ran around.

At this moment, the alarm bell rang. This place was not far from the quarantine camp. An infantry company equipped with riot gear, permanently stationed here, heard that there was trouble at the detention center and immediately dispatched an infantry platoon.

From a distance, Huang An’de saw more than thirty men in rattan helmets and armor, holding bamboo sticks and rattan shields, running in formation and shouting slogans. Chen Zhonghuan quickly ran up to the officer in charge and gestured, saying something.

“Attention! Tear gas ready!” Under the command of a platoon leader, a squad armed with disposable grenade launchers ran up and deployed in a horizontal line.

“Don’t use tear gas!” Huang An’de had learned in his weapons class that it was filled with pepper powder, a so-called “non-lethal” weapon for riot control. But camp hysteria was not an ordinary riot. Using it would not only fail to disperse the crowd but would also cause greater chaos. He quickly ran up, and in his anxiety, he forgot the military salute he had learned and directly gave the platoon leader a curtsy, “Sir! Don’t use it!”

The platoon leader was startled, “Who are you?”

“I am the sentry here,” Huang An’de waved his hands anxiously. “This is camp hysteria! If you fire tear gas in there, it will be even more chaotic, and many people will die!”

Seeing that the platoon leader was still hesitating, Huang An’de said loudly, “I was a soldier before and have seen it. We have to rush in and suppress it first!”

The platoon leader was not a former Ming soldier and didn’t know what “camp hysteria” was. But seeing his grave expression and hearing that using tear gas would cause many deaths, he ordered them not to fire the tear gas and to send men in to suppress it directly.

“Two-man teams, drag out one person at a time,” the platoon leader commanded.

With the rapid intervention of the riot infantry, the commotion at the detention center quieted down after more than ten minutes. But the tragedy had already occurred. Three people were seriously injured in the commotion, and almost everyone was injured.

Wu De, who had rushed over, turned pale when he saw the wounded being carried out with blood on their faces and bodies. He had never encountered such a strange thing before.

Chen Zhonghuan was so scared that he knelt down in front of Wu De, “Master Wu—Chief Wu—I, I didn’t say anything—”

“Get up,” Wu De waved his hand. “This is not your responsibility.”

“Thank you, chief,” Chen Zhonghuan quickly stood up.

“Was it you who just said this is called camp hysteria and not to use tear gas?” Wu De walked up to Huang An’de.

“Yes, it was me—”

“You are a soldier!”

“Yes! Education soldier Huang An’de! I said it!” Huang An’de quickly stood up straight and said loudly, as he had learned in new recruit training.

“How do you know this is camp hysteria?”

“Yes, I was a combat soldier in Shandong before, and there was camp hysteria in the camp! I’ve seen it.”

“Good, you handled it well!” Wu De said to the cadet beside him. “Tell Wei Aiwen that education soldier Huang An’de handled the emergency situation properly. Give him a merit!”

“Thank you, chief!” Huang An’de said loudly, giving a clumsy salute.

Jiang Qiuyan also rushed over. As a psychologist, he was very interested in “camp hysteria,” a type of mass psychogenic illness. Of course, there was also a pragmatic element to it: the size of the transmigrators’ army was growing daily, and the quarantine camp always had thousands of people gathered. If an incident like camp hysteria were to occur, the consequences would be unimaginable.

As soon as he arrived, he called Chen Zhonghuan, Huang An’de, and the others aside to inquire about the situation. He also interrogated a few participants—these people were exhausted and limp on the ground after the outburst. Now that they heard the Australians had no intention of killing them, they were relieved. But no one could clearly say what had happened in that moment; their minds were blank.

“It’s caused by excessive mental stress,” Jiang Qiuyan said. “A concentrated release of accumulated stress.”

“Great mental stress? We’ve been giving them good food and drink since they came ashore.”

“Good food and drink, it’s true, but people can easily accumulate stress in an unfamiliar environment. And it was a bit crowded,” Jiang Qiuyan said. “I’ll give them some opium tincture and let them have a good sleep. They’ll be fine.”