Chapter 2: On the Ship

Now, this plan had been ingrained in the minds of all commanders. Everyone was trained to follow the plan instinctively, ensuring there would be absolutely no deviation.

However, compared to a landing under enemy fire, they had a significant advantage: the support from Yulin Fort. Yulin Fort was too small to provide full logistical support, but it could offer sufficient intelligence. From the day Yulin Fort was established, Wang Tao, who was permanently stationed there, had been continuously sending local hydrological, tidal, and climatic data back to Lin’gao via telegraph and written reports, as instructed.

The survey team, using 20th-century maps as a basis, had re-surveyed and drawn more accurate maps. The long-range reconnaissance team had explored the surrounding water sources and natural resources. Not long ago, a weather forecasting team had also arrived at Yulin Fort with their equipment to try and provide local short-term weather forecasts.

In terms of intelligence, their preparations were more than adequate. Besides gathering information from Yulin Fort, they had also specifically retrieved all hydrographic, geographic, resource, and demographic data on the Yulin-Sanya area from the Grand Library’s database. This information was sorted, organized, and sent to the Project Giant operations office of the Planning院.

They now knew more about the Yulin area than any native of this time. On the planning maps, where to build camps, where to anchor ships, where to build a second pier… all had been specifically planned out.

Now, the four members of the Sanya Regional Military Committee—with the position of Director of the Tiandu Mining Bureau temporarily vacant—were waiting for the dawn. According to their calculations, they would arrive in the Yulin Port area right around daybreak.

A communications soldier knocked and entered, delivering a telegram from Yulin Fort.

The telegram contained the latest weather forecast: “Today in the Yulin area, clear skies, northeast wind at Force 3-4, gusts up to Force 5 at sea, wave height 1.5 meters.” Xi Yazhou glanced at it and said, “Who made this forecast? Where did he get the basic information? A Ming Dynasty weather satellite?”

Wang Luobin said, “This is from the Yulin Fort weather team. It’s very reliable.” He said so, but he wasn’t entirely sure himself. The conditions here were worse than in Lin’gao. At least in Lin’gao, they had the weather radar on the Fengcheng to use. Here, they were probably using a “simple weather station” like the ones he’d seen in elementary school to make forecasts.

“Reliable or not, we move at dawn. We can’t just sit at the entrance and not go in,” Li Haiping said.

“If we don’t land soon, these three thousand men will be useless even after we get ashore,” Zhuo Tianmin groaned. He was suffering terribly from seasickness. “If we can land today, we can at least rest and recuperate.”

If the landing wasn’t carried out soon, the morale and stamina of the men on board would be exhausted. This was a problem that the Planning院 and the General Staff had not anticipated. They had viewed the transportation of personnel as if it were a computer game: people were just a number. No one had estimated the severity of a long-distance sea voyage in the age of sail.

Three days after setting sail, on the Sanya One and all the other personnel transport ships, the tightly packed hammocks were filled with men groaning from seasickness.

No matter how many days of acclimatization training they did, many people still got seasick during the six-day voyage. The smell of vomit mixed with the salty tang of the sea was nauseating. As the ships sailed, seawater would splash in through the grates of the hatches, keeping the cabins perpetually damp. Everyone’s clothes were never dry. Because there were so many people, they had to take turns going on deck for fresh air, with each person getting only ten minutes. In this respect, it was worse than being on a smaller ship.

The food consisted of “Grasslands” series dry rations. With too many people, the galley couldn’t provide hot meals for everyone at once. The soldiers and laborers could only gnaw on hard “Grasslands” series navy biscuits: a long-lasting food made from water, salt, and flour, with a strange taste—a taste only those who could still eat could appreciate. Most people couldn’t stomach anything at all.

A few were unfazed by the wind and waves. Hu Wumei and a few others were playing leaf cards. He had been officially appointed as the mayor of An You Le Market, with a contingent of three hundred immigrant households under his command.

The task of leading immigrants to Yulin to establish a new town had been offered to him, and Hu Wumei had agreed, on the condition that he be given a thousand mu of prime land. Hilly land was also acceptable, as long as trees could be grown on it.

He hadn’t been the head of the Xuetian Manor for long, but his farming management skills and ideas had greatly impressed Wu Nanhai. In this time, Hu Wumei could be considered a successful landlord-manager. Back in Guangdong, he had grown indigo, raised fish, and planted fruit trees and medicinal herbs in the mountains. If it weren’t for the troubled times, he could have had a grand career in agriculture instead of becoming a pirate mid-stream.

“Done,” Wu De agreed without hesitation. “I can even give you three thousand mu, but you must manage it yourself and hire your own labor. You can’t lease it to tenant farmers.”

“I don’t want tenant farmers. Hired hands are better.” After saying this, Hu Wumei suddenly slapped his thigh. “There’s nowhere to hire long-term laborers in Yazhou…”

“Don’t worry, there will be.”

Hu Wumei had originally wanted to be a landlord, but now he found himself about to become an official. Amidst his excitement, he couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. He had never been an official before.

He was enrolled in a short-term administrative training course to learn how to manage according to the Administrative Handbook. To ensure this former pirate could properly perform his duties, the Civil Affairs Committee also appointed a team to assist him, including a secretary and an accountant. Naturally, there were also personnel from the General Political Security Bureau’s network.

His former pirate brothers, nephews, and various relatives who had heard he had “washed his feet” and come to Lin’gao to join him also wanted to immigrate to Yulin with him. How could they not take advantage of having a relative as an official?

But the Civil Affairs Committee did not approve this batch of enthusiastic “activists.” If they were allowed to go, An You Le Market would become the Hu family village! It would just be replacing one Hu Xun with another Hu Wumei. In the end, Hu Wumei only set off with a few of his closest brothers and nephews.

Sitting opposite Hu Wumei was Zheng Ergen. After that harrowing night, Zheng Ergen had been arrested. After three days and three nights of continuous interrogation, just when he thought his doom was sealed, he was suddenly released. Not long after, he was announced as the new police chief of An You Le Market, to pack up and assume his post immediately.

Accompanying him were several colleagues from the East Gate Market police station, and each of them had been promoted one rank. Everyone was baffled by this sudden promotion and transfer. Some of the more astute among them guessed it was most likely related to that night when Chief Dugu had ordered them to arm themselves and march on Bairen City.

But they couldn’t figure out if it was a reward or a punishment. A reward? They were suddenly sent from Lin’gao to the barren wilds of Yazhou. A punishment? Zheng Ergen became the chief, and everyone else got a promotion and a raise.

For a time, the native policemen couldn’t figure out the reason, but they knew they were most likely embroiled in a conspiracy among the Australian chiefs. They were lucky to have kept their lives, so everyone was cautious in their words and actions, never mentioning the events of that night. Hu Wumei tried to inquire about it several times while playing cards, but Zheng Ergen always brushed him off with “I forgot” or “I don’t remember clearly.” This made Hu Wumei very unhappy, and his card playing got worse and worse. After four rounds, Hu Wumei had lost his entire month’s salary and the next month’s as well.

“Damn it,” Hu Wumei cursed, handing him the paper slips that served as chips. “Continue, continue.”

“If you want to play, fine,” Zheng Ergen said, “but no gambling.”

“What’s the point of playing cards if there’s no money involved?” Hu Wumei grumbled, thinking, You win the money and now you want to quit.

“I don’t want a single yuan of your money,” Zheng Ergen said, returning all the paper slips Hu Wumei had lost to him. “If the higher-ups find out I’m gambling, I’m finished.” One of the police regulations was a strict prohibition on gambling, a rule that Ran Yao repeatedly enforced.

“So boring!” Although his salary was back, playing cards without money was like a delicious meal without salt to Hu Wumei. Having lost his interest, he felt a certain heat in his lower abdomen. He wanted to find his young wife to let off some steam, but this was a ship, with hammocks slung one next to the other. There was simply no place to do such a thing.

Lin Gonglao lay in his hammock. His family were shipwrights, so of course he didn’t get seasick. However, Lin Gonglao’s mood was at an all-time low.

He had gone from being the swaggering “Brother Gonglao” and “Young Master Gonglao” in Baitu Village to an ordinary member of the Bairen Commune, going to work every morning at the sound of the steam whistle. And the casual laborers from Baitu Village, who used to greet him with respect, were now official workers and didn’t give him the time of day. This disparity made him feel extremely unbalanced.

Lin Xianming had tried several times to get him into the shipyard as an official worker, but Lin Gonglao’s skills had not improved at all. As the shipyard increasingly used machinery and new production processes, the newly trained apprentices surpassed the original craftsmen in both knowledge and practical skills. Even Lin Xianming’s own position had become precarious, let alone bringing in his hopelessly unskilled son.

So he continued as an ordinary member of the Bairen Commune. Some of the restless Lin family youths who didn’t want to work had enlisted in the Security Corps. Although Lin Gonglao liked to play with weapons, he had no interest in being an Australian soldier—he thought they were foolish soldiers. Marching in neat rows and firing guns, you call that being a soldier? Besides, he didn’t believe for a moment that the Australians could last long in Lin’gao.

The hammock swayed with the rocking of the ship. The air in the cabin was foul. Some were moaning from seasickness, others were asleep and snoring, and some were talking. Lin Gonglao couldn’t sleep. He stared blankly at the deckhead above him. He couldn’t understand why he and many of his clansmen had suddenly been sent to Yazhou. Whose bastard idea was this? Lin’gao was at least prosperous. Yazhou, on the other hand, was the so-called “end of the earth,” a place where criminals were exiled.

Among the immigrants were not only Lin Gonglao and some of his clansmen, but also some members of the Lu family.

Even after these two clans were separated, the transmigrator group was still wary of them. The Lin clan alone had nearly two hundred adult males, and with over three hundred women and children, they were a considerable force in the local area. Bairen and Bopu were close to each other, and the Lin family members still frequently gathered for drinks. During festivals, they would hold clan-wide activities. The scene of the entire Lin clan gathering to worship their ancestors and feast on New Year’s Eve this year had put the transmigrators on high alert.

The General Political Security Bureau’s investigation found that the Lin clan’s patriarchal system was still intact. Lin Xianming and others still held great influence within the clan. Moreover, some were trying to initiate the construction of a Lin ancestral hall, actively networking not only among their own clansmen but also trying to “unite the clans” with other people named Lin in Lin’gao, with the intention of expanding their clan.

Many of the Lin clansmen worked in factories and had good incomes, their economic situation much better than that of ordinary laborers. Many poor commune members with the surname Lin, who had just arrived in Lin’gao and were still struggling, were tempted by the clan’s support and eagerly joined them.

The most active in this were several of the Lin family’s “second generation,” including the brothers Lin Gonglao and Lin Gongxun. Because of their poor skills, these two had never been able to get into the factories and had remained as commune members. Full of resentment, they were particularly enthusiastic about such matters.

The transmigrator group always maintained extreme vigilance against clan forces. Wu De, then the People’s Commissar for Civil Affairs, decided to immediately curb and crack down on this resurgence of clan power.

The first measure was to split the Lin family a second time. The troublemakers Lin Gonglao and Lin Gongxun became immigrants. Lin Xianming was shocked and pleaded desperately through Li Di. Li Di also felt that taking away both of a man’s sons was a bit much, so in the end, he managed to keep Lin Gongxun back.

Another group from the Lin clan was also relocated, about a dozen households. Among them were people like Lin Gongxun who couldn’t forget their past glory, as well as those who just wanted to work hard and have a good life. Wu De had a special talk with Hu Wumei, telling him to pay close attention to these dozen households. In addition, Wu De also sent Wang Sangou, who had been severely oppressed by the Lin family in the past, to specifically monitor this group.

Several households from the Lu family were also relocated. This was partly to further weaken the Lu family’s influence in Lin’gao’s industrial enterprises, and partly because Yulin genuinely needed blacksmiths.

Hu Wumei didn’t know the ins and outs of all this, but in recent months he had formed a clear concept: the chiefs’ words were absolute imperial edicts, even more terrifying than imperial edicts, because the emperor didn’t know everything, but the chiefs knew everything.

He still clearly remembered that among the pirate leaders who had surrendered to Lin’gao, one had later attempted to flee with his ship. The plot was discovered by the chiefs while it was still in the planning stage. This man was one day politely invited over, where they recounted to him whom he had met, what he had said, and what he was planning to do. In the end, they let him go without doing anything to him. From then on, this pirate leader changed completely. First, he no longer wanted to manage his ship, “donating” it entirely to the Australians. Second, he quickly sent all his children to the Australians’ schools to show his loyalty.