Chapter 199: Zhang Jiqi and Lin Xianming

From the closest point to the two men, a three-masted wooden-hulled warship was having its hull planking installed in the dry dock. Workers labored on the scaffolding. Bundles of hull planks, bent to a certain curve by steam, were lifted by steam cranes and delivered to each installation station.

This warship, assembled with steel ribs and a steam engine using advanced technology from another timeline, would become the most powerful war machine of this era.

On the largest slipway, the wrought iron keel of another, smaller armed three-masted ship had already been laid. Numerous cranes, powered by gas engines, were moving the iron ribs closer to their assembly positions on the keel. Workers in safety helmets bustled back and forth under the command of foremen with red and green flags, their chants and whistles rising and falling.

Zhang Jiqi was on the dock of the 854 Project, watching the progress of the hull planking installation. He wore a blue canvas work uniform and a rattan safety helmet. Throughout the Bopu Shipyard, his status was the highest among the native employees. His title was “Shipbuilding Technician”—a title unique not only in the shipyard but among all native workers. In comparison, Lin Xianming and Lu Youtian, who had also migrated from Baitu, were only “assistant technicians.” Of course, even being an assistant technician was quite remarkable. In the mechanical system, a native worker who could be rated as a “mechanic” could already walk with a swagger.

Although Zhang Jiqi was not highly educated, he was extremely quick-witted and possessed a traditional Chinese craftsman’s ability to remember things after seeing them once. As long as Wen Desi showed him the details of a ship model, he would firmly remember many of them. He might not understand the “why” of some design structures, but he could at least quickly grasp the “how.” For the elders, that was enough. After all, what they needed now were workers with strong hands-on skills, not designers.

Zhang Jiqi was originally a master shipwright. After several years of guidance and education from Wen Desi and others—especially after learning several European ship types and shipbuilding techniques—he had integrated Chinese and Western knowledge, and his shipbuilding skills had become even more refined, making him the most important native technical personnel in the shipyard. He was responsible for the final assembly of the 854 Project.

On the tracks, flatcars pulled by diesel locomotives unloaded crates of specialized iron nails and fasteners for assembly. These were all manufactured in the metalworking workshop where Lu Youtian was the foreman. The standard parts factory in Lingao’s industrial system did not produce these special parts; most of the metal parts needed for shipbuilding were manufactured in the shipyard’s own workshops.

On the scaffolding, the workers installed the hull planks according to their training, following the example set for them. The sounds of hammers and drills rose and fell. Occasionally, a cry of “Watch out!” could be heard, followed by a red-hot rivet tumbling through the air, caught firmly by a riveter with a pair of tongs, inserted into the rivet hole while still hot, and quickly hammered into place.

Other workers were busy with caulking, using a mixture of hemp fibers, tung oil, and oyster shell ash. The process was meticulously calculated to ensure the most optimized production efficiency.

Each shipwright was trained for thirty days. They didn’t need to master much theoretical knowledge or learn any special skills or have a high aptitude. They just needed to learn by following the master craftsman. These workers didn’t need to understand shipbuilding; they only needed to know how to hammer nails, drive rivets, install planks, and caulk seams. This approach greatly simplified the training process for shipwrights.

A whistle blew—it was the signal for the shift change. The night shift workers were lining up to enter the workshop. It was also time for Zhang Jiqi to get off work. But he had no intention of leaving. The work at the shipyard was unprecedentedly tense. Six ships were under construction on the slipways simultaneously, but there were very few technicians who could provide technical guidance.

Zhang Jiqi did not have the consciousness of a worker being the master of his own destiny, but he had the most simple and honest feeling of gratitude. This was not just about material benefits—back in Baitu Village, the Lin family had also treated him as an honored guest. It was the respect and understanding he received here that he could not get anywhere else. Zhang Jiqi was well aware that in terms of knowledge and ability, the elders were a hundred, a thousand times better than him, yet they were all very polite to him, asking him to sit down when they spoke, and some elders would even offer him a cigarette. This was different from the Lin family’s courtesy. Zhang Jiqi knew very well that in the past, he had relied entirely on his skills to secure his position in Baitu Village. Once he grew old and weak or lost his technical secrets, and was no longer useful to the Lin family, all the courtesy and material comforts would disappear.

But here, he didn’t have to worry about all that. The Australians not only didn’t covet his skills but also constantly taught him new ones. And as long as he worked diligently, he would be well paid. Even if he grew too old to work one day, the Australians would not abandon him. The treatment the Australians gave their subordinates was exceptionally good. The shipyard had had several accidents with casualties, and the compensation was always generous. Usually, a master who was willing to give a few taels for burial expenses was considered kind. But the Australians not only gave burial money but also took care of the families of the dead and injured workers. Children were sent to school, the elderly were provided for, and those willing to work were given jobs. Even those who were disabled by industrial accidents were given some light work, and they were never allowed to become homeless.

This thing the Australians called “welfare” filled Zhang Jiqi with trust in them, and he was willing to put all his strength and skills to work for them.

Zhang Jiqi came out of the duty room next to Dry Dock No. 0—this dock was named after the No. 0 ship that was built there. He decided to get something to eat first, then check the progress of shipbuilding on the other slipways and docks to see if there were any problems to be solved.

The shipyard’s cafeteria was, by modern standards, just a large shed, but for 17th-century workers, being able to shelter from the wind and rain was good enough. The rows of long wooden tables and the food service windows gave many elders a familiar feeling. However, the variety of dishes could not be compared to a 21st-century cafeteria—there were only a few fixed options, and they were not very rich. Protein was mainly provided by seafood, and eggs and meat were rarely seen.

However, for the native workers, having enough brown rice to fill their stomachs was already an excellent meal, and a little fish sauce and vegetables were a fine delicacy. Zhang Jiqi’s meals were, of course, a little more refined than theirs. He was quite satisfied with some vegetables and fish at every meal.

All native employees under the transmigrator group’s cafeterias were not provided with free meals. Instead, they were given a certain amount of meal tickets each month as a subsidy, which was enough to ensure they were full and met their physical and basic nutritional needs. Workers who wanted to eat better could buy extra meal tickets. All meal tickets were valid only for the current month to ensure that the workers ate all the food themselves instead of taking it home for their families. In the past, the factory had directly distributed food allowances, but it was found that most workers used the circulation coupons to subsidize their families instead of eating, and malnutrition was a common occurrence.

Zhang Jiqi belonged to the high-salary class among the native employees—classified by Du Wen as the “worker aristocracy” of Lingao. Moreover, Zhang Jiqi had no wife or children; he was a bachelor who only had to feed himself. Naturally, he was much more extravagant in his eating and drinking than the average worker.

Zhang Jiqi bought a portion of stir-fried rice noodles with shellfish and seasonal vegetables. The rice noodles were made from a mixture of rice flour and sweet potato flour, stir-fried quickly over high heat, looking oily and glistening. It was a favorite dish among the workers who usually lacked oil in their diet, but it was also the most expensive. Most workers were used to buying the cheaper rice noodle soup, which was much cheaper. He also bought a bottle of kombucha. This drink was sour and sweet, perfect for after a meal.

Kombucha was a drink that native workers rarely bought. The cafeteria mainly prepared it for the elders working in the factory. So every time Zhang Jiqi tilted his head back to drink kombucha, it would attract a burst of envy from the workers, which also made him very proud.

Zhang Jiqi carried the plate piled high with rice noodles back to the table. This portion of rice noodles weighed a full 250 grams. For a worker engaged in heavy physical labor, this was nothing. There were many workers who could eat half a kilogram or even a kilogram in one meal.

He saw Lin Xianming sitting at a table, eating a bowl of brown rice with only vegetables. He was very surprised. Lin Xianming was the head carpenter of the shipyard, with the title of assistant technician. His salary, including his rank and title pay, was only slightly less than his own. Moreover, his children were all grown up, and his wife and children all had jobs. There was no need to be so frugal.

“Old Lin, why are you eating this?” Zhang Jiqi put his plate down opposite him and sat down.

“It’s you,” Lin Xianming said, somewhat dejectedly. As the head carpenter, he had a lot of carpentry assembly tasks recently. Like Zhang Jiqi, he hadn’t been home for several days. “The burden is heavy.”

“You’re kidding. Your son and wife all have jobs and income. They can support themselves. What burden do you have?”

Lin Xianming sighed. “Because my surname is Lin.”

The Lin clan’s activities had always been active. Many poor Lin immigrants, in order to get relief from the clan, had joined the Lin family. As a result, the financial burden on Lin Xianming, as the clan leader, had become very heavy.

Although as the clan leader he could collect some money from his clansmen to help the poor new members, his authority had greatly diminished since the Lin family moved to Bopu. He could no longer, with a single order, open the ancestral hall and have a clansman who had offended him beaten, forced to kneel, fined, or even executed.

Although the Lin clan’s activities were still frequent, its cohesion had greatly weakened after being dismembered twice. Having lost its major source of income and been incorporated into Lingao’s security system, the economic benefits and security that the clan used to provide to its members were now almost gone.

The distant branches of the clan, with little say in matters, gradually began to disregard the authority of the main house. The resentment caused by the unfair distribution of benefits within the Lin clan in the past also gradually surfaced. As a result, Lin Xianming had to spend more than before to maintain the entire Lin clan. Ancestral worship ceremonies had to be more grand, and various clan activities were more frequent. The newly joined Lin clansmen almost all needed relief, but many clansmen were unwilling to pay to help them, believing they had no real connection to their own family and that it was a waste of money.

In the past, the clan’s expenses could be forcibly apportioned among the various branches. Now, many clansmen refused to pay or paid less, and he had to make up the shortfall himself. On one hand, the apportioned income was decreasing, while on the other, various expenses were not decreasing at all but were even increasing. Lin Xianming’s burden naturally became heavier.

Zhang Jiqi knew something about these matters. He somewhat enjoyed watching from the sidelines, as he had had disagreements with Lin Xianming over the distribution of benefits in the past. But now he felt more open-minded, and besides, the two had generally cooperated well in Baitu.

“How’s Gonglao?” Zhang Jiqi asked with feigned concern. In fact, he disliked this so-called “nephew” the most. The arrogant and rude attitude of the young master had always displeased him, although on the surface he had always shown great tolerance and affection for this “nephew.” But when it came to the shipyard worker qualification assessment, he had unhesitatingly given both Lin Gonglao and Lin Gongxun a zero. He was secretly delighted when Lin Gonglao was transferred to Sanya at the beginning of the year.

“It’s very hard!” Lin Xianming felt sorry for his son and couldn’t help but sigh. He then lowered his voice and said, “I heard from someone who sent a message back that many people have died of malaria in Sanya. But the project is progressing very quickly.”

“Don’t worry, Gonglao is young and healthy.”

“I can only think so.” Lin Xianming looked worried. “Let’s not talk about Gonglao’s matter. He’s a grown man. It’s the clan’s affairs that are giving me a headache. The expenses are so high, and everyone is reluctant to contribute. They only care about their own families.”

“Old Lin, what’s the point of you working so hard to support the clan? It’s all on you now. Is it worth it?”

“Sigh, sometimes I also feel it’s not worth it,” Lin Xianming ate a mouthful of boiled vegetables, chewing without appetite. “But our clan fled from Fujian to Hainan and has grown to this point. I’m not willing to see it fall apart.”

“You’re not willing, but others don’t care,” Zhang Jiqi said. “Take the matter of joining the clan. People who have nothing to do with your clan, just because they have the same surname ‘Lin,’ get a monthly allowance from you. This isn’t Baitu anymore. Everyone earns a salary to live. Is it worth doing this? Do you owe them something, or do you expect to get something from them?”

Lin Xianming also felt it was meaningless, but he still held on to the traditional concept of “the more clansmen, the better.”

“More clansmen means we won’t be bullied. There’s strength in numbers,” Lin Xianming said.

“Hehe,” Zhang Jiqi laughed. “Old Lin! Your mind is not working! Strength in numbers, that was in Baitu Village. Your family is now in Bopu. What do you need strength for? What are you preparing to do with it?”

Lin Xianming was startled and immediately understood the meaning behind his words. He broke out in a cold sweat.

“The government is the government, the clan is the clan. They are two separate things. No matter how big a clan is, it can’t refuse to pay taxes… How can the chiefs not understand this?”

“You’re muddle-headed, that’s what you are,” Zhang Jiqi glanced around. “Think about it yourself. If the chiefs really ‘understand this principle’ as you say, why did they take a dozen households from your clan, and even Gonglao, and send them to Sanya? And you’re still trying to unite the clan and recruit people! My little brother, I’m not trying to scare you, but if this continues…” He shook his head repeatedly.

This sentence was like a thunderbolt, stunning Lin Xianming. After a long while, he stammered, “It can’t be. I… we… our Lin family has no disloyal intentions!”

“Whether you do or not, it’s not up to you or me to say,” Zhang Jiqi said, slurping his stir-fried rice noodles with a smile.

Watching Lin Xianming leave the cafeteria in a daze, without even finishing his meal, Zhang Jiqi felt a little proud. You, Lin Xianming, you’ve gone crazy being a clan leader! The Australians are most wary of clans. And you still want to build up the Lin clan. I’m reminding you out of old friendship. Otherwise, you’ll be facing confiscation of property and extermination of your clan!

While Zhang Jiqi and Lin Xianming were having this conversation, Lu Youtian was eating with Jiang Ye and others at another table. As a rule, each factory usually had 2-3 elders with professional knowledge on night duty to provide guidance and solve problems at any time. They usually lived in a dedicated “elder’s office,” and theoretically, their meals were cooked separately. However, many found it troublesome to wait for the elder’s cafeteria to deliver food and not get it hot, so they simply ate at the staff cafeteria. This invisibly closed the distance between them and the native workers.

Lu Youtian, wearing a dark work uniform and covered in sweat—the metalworking workshop had furnaces, forges, sand casting, and casting, with the indoor temperature always above 40°C—ordered a large plate of stir-fried rice with vegetables and shrimp. He was wolfing it down while chatting with Jiang Ye and others about work.

“President Wen said we should sheathe the bottom of the ship with copper. How do we make this copper sheathing? Do we hammer it? Like hammering gold leaf?”

“With a rolling mill, making copper sheathing is not a problem,” Jiang Ye said. “The problem is how to attach it. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

Lu Youtian was still confused. “The bottom of the ship is so big. How big should the copper sheets be?”

At this moment, Zhang Jiqi came over. Since there were elders present, he felt he should come and say hello. After the pleasantries were exchanged, they continued to discuss the process of sheathing the ship’s bottom with copper at the dinner table.

“I’ve seen President Wen’s ship model. The copper sheets are nailed to the bottom of the ship one by one, with the edges interlocking,” Zhang Jiqi said. “That should be enough.”

Zhou Bili nodded. “So that’s how it is! But the area of the ship’s bottom is not small. The consumption of copper sheets must be considerable.”

“That’s the Planning Commission’s business. I think there should be some copper reserves,” Jiang Ye said, finishing a bottle of iced kvass in one go. “Besides, our rolling mill should be better than the British ones. The copper plates we roll will be thinner.”