Chapter 291: He Xin

“Yes, that’s me…” He Xin, having been called “130080” for months, was a bit slow to respond to his own name. He hesitated for a moment before answering.

“You want him, Chief?” Fu Youdi chuckled. “This kid is just a pretty boy, terrible at manual labor.”

Lin Baiguang ignored him, carefully studying the former pirate leader before him.

He Xin watched as the Australian stared up and down his body without a word, and he couldn’t help but tremble. The memory of the S&M gay films he’d been shown during his interrogation was still vivid.

This former pirate, this former dandy, now stood almost naked, with only a tattered piece of cloth around his waist for modesty. His body was covered in bruises, old and new, from the rattan whip. That Fu Youdi is a vicious one, Lin Baiguang thought. No wonder his name now struck fear into the hearts of the local natives. Looking at Fu Youdi’s recently acquired paunch, Lin Baiguang suspected he was getting rich off the prison.

But that was none of his business. The problem of official corruption could be left for Yi Fan to slowly investigate.

“Give him a wash and a change of clothes,” Lin Baiguang ordered Fu Youdi.

After bringing a slightly more human-looking He Xin back to the camp, Lin Baiguang had Gao Di take him for a bath. The “purification” process was unnecessary; the labor camp had already taken care of that.

When He Xin, washed and dressed in clean clothes, returned to the room, he looked much more presentable. In the past few months, he had gone from “heaven” to “hell,” and now, someone had rescued him from that “hell.” It felt like a dream.

He didn’t know why he had been able to crawl out of that inferno. He had never seen the Australian who took him away, nor was he one of the men he had met when he came to Lin’gao to buy grain under Chief Zhu’s orders.

The thought of Chief Zhu sent a wave of despair through He Xin. News of the complete annihilation of Zhu Cailao’s fleet had long since spread through the labor camp. He hadn’t quite believed it at first, but then more and more scattered pirates, caught robbing ships in the Qiongzhou Strait, were brought into the camp. Some were Zhu Cailao’s former men, and they confirmed the news.

His great patron, Zhu Cailao, was dead. What did this Australian want with him? He Xin wondered silently. Although he had been a “pirate” for a decade, he had never been involved in any fighting. He hadn’t learned any seafaring skills like sailing or navigation either. All he had was a set of skills for eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling—the talents of a professional idler.

Could it be about Chief Zhu’s treasure? He Xin recalled being interrogated for what felt like an eternity in a place where he couldn’t tell day from night, questioned about every trivial detail of Chief Zhu’s gang.

Perhaps now that Chief Zhu is dead, the Australians covet his treasure? He really knew nothing about that. The memory of the endless interrogations in the dark room, coupled with the threat of being “sold to a Westerner’s house of pleasure,” made He Xin’s legs go weak.

As his mind raced, the Australian who had pulled him from “hell” came to see him. Gao Di brought in a tray of food.

The food was from the quarantine camp’s mess hall. It was certainly not exquisite, but it had fish, shellfish, and other seafood. Compared to the labor camp’s fare of coarse rice every meal and a vegetable soup that was salty but had not a drop of oil, this was a feast.

The labor camp’s diet had been designed by Dr. Chen Sigen, a Ph.D. in nutrition, to ensure the prisoners received enough carbohydrates, vitamins, and minerals to sustain their heavy labor and prevent them from dying too quickly. Taste was not a consideration.

He Xin’s eyes filled with tears and his mouth watered at the sight. But months of being beaten by the rattan whip had instilled a deep fear in him. Even with the delicious food before him, he didn’t dare to eat without permission.

“Eat something first,” Lin Baiguang said. “Don’t be afraid. You’re my man now.”

“Thank you for your great kindness, Chief—” He Xin was so moved he nearly burst into tears, immediately prostrating himself on the floor.

“No need to kowtow,” Lin Baiguang said. “Eat first, we’ll talk after.”

He Xin quickly lowered his head and began to wolf down the food. In the past, in the pirate gang, he wouldn’t have given such food a second glance. Now, it tasted exceptionally delicious. Remembering the hardships of the past few months, he began to cry as he ate.

“What are you crying for? A grown man, shedding tears over a little hardship.”

“I… I dare not…” He Xin wiped his tears while stuffing his mouth with food.

“From now on, work hard for me, and you won’t be treated poorly.”

“Yes, yes, I will definitely…” He Xin’s words were muffled by a large mouthful of rice.

“If you dare to be anything less than definite, I’ll send you back,” Lin Baiguang said with a slight smile.

“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.” He Xin was so frightened he stopped eating and prostrated himself again, kowtowing repeatedly.

“Get up and eat,” Lin Baiguang said. After returning, he had spent several days shadowing Xiong Buyou, observing him in the county yamen and the homes of the local gentry, learning the mannerisms of the powerful.

After He Xin finished his meal and Gao Di cleared the table, Lin Baiguang finally asked, “I hear you’re quite the expert at having fun?”

He Xin was stunned. What did these ambiguous words, “expert at having fun,” mean? After a long pause, he said, “I have been known to be a bit frivolous, fond of gambling and drinking…”

“What kind of fun? Tell me everything,” Lin Baiguang encouraged, sensing his hesitation. “To be honest with you, I’m going to Qiongshan to do business, and I need to borrow your talents.”

He Xin had a sudden realization. This Australian wanted him to be a professional guest, a hanger-on. This was his area of expertise. His spirits lifted. He was not a man of great cunning, and his face immediately relaxed. He boasted, “I wouldn’t dare claim to be an expert in too many things, but I’m proficient in Cuju, Shuanglu, chess, card games, and singing. I can also play the pipa.”

Lin Baiguang nodded. He had “professional skills” indeed. “Are you familiar with the brothels and casinos?”

“Not to make you laugh, sir,” He Xin said with a fawning smile, “but before I joined Chief Zhu, I had no means of support and had to sponge off others in the brothels. In Guangdong, I’ve been to every kind of establishment, from the high-class to the low. I know many of the madams.”

“Can you write?”

“Yes, I attended a private school for a few years. I can write letters…”

“Good. From now on, you’ll follow me and be my professional guest,” Lin Baiguang said. “In a few days, I’m going out on business. You’ll come with me.”

“Yes, Master. I will serve you with all my heart.” Hearing that he could leave Lin’gao, He Xin’s spirits soared. The farther away from here, the farther away from that terrifying demon Fu Youdi.

“From now on, you’ll call me ‘Master’,” Lin Baiguang instructed.

Gao Di entered again, carrying a porcelain bottle. It was medicine he had just picked up from the Lin’gao General Hospital, the newest liniment for bruises and injuries developed by the Runshitang pharmacy. The formula was one Liu San had obtained from the confiscated property of Lin Changsan, the head of the bailiffs. The bailiffs were in charge of punishments, and their leaders had inherited formulas for treating wounds from beatings. After obtaining it, Liu San and Yang Shixiang had studied it, adding and removing a few ingredients to create this external medicine. Liu San named it “Sanlitong.”

Sanlitong had been very well-received in trials in Foshan. As autumn arrived and the weather cooled, sales of the Zhuge Xingjun Powder and the Plague-Dispelling Powder had entered their off-season. This all-season medicine for injuries, both external and internal, was the perfect product to fill the sales gap.

“Take off your clothes and let Brother Gao apply the medicine for you.”

“Thank you, Master.” He Xin was moved to tears.

After the medicine was applied, Lin Baiguang offered a few more words of comfort and told him to get some rest. He and Gao Di then left the room.

“Go tell Yang He to have someone keep an eye on him.”

“Understood.” Gao Di nodded knowingly.

Lin Baiguang went to the Finance and Economics Committee and collected three hundred taels of silver for his operational funds. Delong Bank had no branch in Qiongshan yet, so bank drafts were useless.

“Is this enough money?” Cheng Dong asked.

“More than enough,” Lin Baiguang said. “It just needs to last for a month or two. Once the grain store is open, it will generate its own operational funds.”

“Alright. But while Wanfeng is a cover for the intelligence station, it is essentially a commercial enterprise directly under the Executive Committee…”

“I understand. I need to follow procedures for expenses,” Lin Baiguang said. “I can’t just withdraw money directly. Give me the paperwork.”

“Here are the expense forms.” Cheng Dong handed him a small jewelry box with a small padlock. Inside were several stacks of printed receipts, a box of carbon paper, pencils, a special ledger, and several wooden official seals.

Cheng Dong explained the entire process for withdrawals and reimbursements, reminding him that all forms were numbered in series, and even voided forms had to be kept.

“Of course, you are now the sole authority at Wanfeng Grain Store. You can approve and make withdrawals yourself. But the financial procedures must be complete. The Audit Committee will send people to conduct random checks on the accounts of the Qiongshan intelligence station and the Wanfeng Rice Shop.”

“The stricter the financial system, the better. I’m all for it,” Lin Baiguang said. “This way, it will also dispel any suspicion and prevent people from thinking that those on assignment are engaging in corruption.”

Lin Baiguang then made a series of visits to several other departments to collect the necessary equipment and supplies. He filled out forms, got requisitions, and obtained stamps and signatures everywhere he went, which made him feel as if he were back in his days as a civil servant.

It seems that so-called institutionalization is essentially bureaucratization, Lin Baiguang thought, his legs sore from running up and down the stairs of the ever-expanding Executive Committee building.

A few days later, Lin Baiguang, now disguised as a wealthy Ming merchant, departed from Bopu by boat with his entourage.

As he left, Lin Baiguang felt a sense of lightness. Many of the transmigrators had developed a special affection for Lin’gao and Bairen City, seeing it as their second home and a small paradise. They were often unhappy when they had to leave on official business. But Lin Baiguang felt no such sentiment. Instead, he felt a sense of exhilarating freedom, like a bird soaring in the open sky. He had a faint premonition that, starting from Qiongshan, he was embarking on a long journey—and that he would not be returning to Lin’gao.