Chapter Twelve: Guests at Huang Shunlong's House

Hong Kong’s water sources are mainly concentrated in the mountainous areas, while surface water is concentrated in the Wong Nai Chung Gap area. There are several mountain basins suitable for building dams to create so-called “reservoirs.” In the old Hong Kong, besides building reservoirs in the mountains, the island’s water supply also relied on establishing protected parks and planting trees in the mountains to increase their water retention capacity.

“If we adopt similar measures, merge small residential areas to reduce human impact on the mountains, and carry out afforestation when necessary, a population base of thirty thousand is still a bit conservative,” Mei Lin said, seeming quite confident about it.

“Is a guaranteed supply for only thirty thousand people enough for industry and agriculture?”

“Of course, the needs of industry and agriculture have been taken into account,” Mei Lin said. “We will start building another large reservoir on Lantau Island in 1634.”

There is a Shek Pik Reservoir on Lantau Island with a capacity of 24.55 million cubic meters, the largest among Hong Kong’s mountain reservoirs. The main dam is 718 meters long, 354 meters wide, and 54 meters high. The earthwork is 4,764 cubic meters, which is not a large project even by Lin’gao’s engineering standards.

“With this reservoir, it will be no problem to set up a large-scale purification camp and develop agriculture on Lantau Island—farming might not be feasible, but vegetable cultivation and animal husbandry can still be done.”

“The figure of thirty thousand people is actually conservative,” Hong Shuiyin said. “The Planning Institute calculated it based on the modern per capita water consumption of 80 liters. People in this era don’t use that much water. Especially since most of our residents here live in concentrated housing, with unified cooking. Toilets are flushed with seawater or we use septic tanks for fertilizer. The water consumption will not be as large as in the old era.”

Hong Shuiyin’s name had “water” in it, but he was actually clueless about water affairs. He had crammed this information before departure. He was very enthusiastic about the commercial development of Hong Kong and was very dissatisfied with the Executive Committee’s focus on Guangzhou rather than Hong Kong—as the commercial representative stationed in Hong Kong, the importance of Hong Kong was directly related to his own importance.

“If you want to protect the soil and water, what about my construction materials?” Shi Dafu expressed his concern. The biggest difficulty for him in carrying out infrastructure construction in Hong Kong was the lack of construction materials. Hong Kong did not produce limestone locally, so the native cement project could not be started. Lacking coal, they also could not fire kilns to make bricks and tiles. Currently, they mainly relied on blasting granite from the mountains in the quarry. Now that he heard about preserving the soil and water, quarrying was a very environmentally damaging issue and would inevitably have to be stopped.

“Granite quarrying can continue. The exploration team will designate a part of the mountain to minimize overall damage. As for timber and bricks and tiles, that depends on Guo Yi—what can’t he buy when he returns to Guangzhou?”

“Cement, and coal for the boilers.”

“Cement will continue to be shipped from Lin’gao. As for coal, Guangdong can also supply it. There is a large coal mine in Chaozhou—I heard that this time the Guangzhou station will be extending its tentacles everywhere to suck the ‘sister juice’ of the entire Guangdong province…” Shi Jiantao said, “Our shipyard needs to get up to speed as soon as possible.”

Shi Jiantao was ambitious about the shipyard, preparing to mass-produce the Lin’gao version of the “Liberty ship” to completely replace all large ships in the Ming Dynasty’s coastal and deep-sea waters. The ultimate fate of these ships would be to serve the Senate’s conquest of Greater East Asia.

“The Lin’gao Liberty ships will be launched in Hong Kong like dumplings!” This was the bold statement he made at a banquet for the shipyard’s Senators before his departure, which was naturally met with cold stares from Zhou Ke and others.

Shi Dafu was excited: “Our people can finally go back to Guangzhou? They have to go back with great fanfare, escorted by the naval fleet. The fleet will fire a 100-gun salute at the White Goose Pond…”

Mei Lin laughed: “Manager Guo will be so impressive—I’m so jealous and resentful.”

“The shipyard is building a paddle-wheel yacht for him,” Shi Jiantao said, drinking kvass. “He’s preparing to indulge in the decadent lifestyle of capitalism. I don’t know if the boat will be finished in time for his return.”

The Guangzhou trading post would soon resume business. According to the plan, once the Guangzhou station was restored, most of the construction materials and living supplies needed for the Hong Kong base construction could be procured locally from Guangzhou and shipped over. This would not only save time but also not occupy the Transmigration Group’s own transport capacity.

In the near future, not only Hong Kong itself, but also the supplies needed for Lin’gao and other future coastal island bases, would be procured by various trading posts and transported to Hong Kong for unified transshipment. Hong Kong would become the Transmigration Group’s largest logistics center on the South China coast. In the series of plans that the Ao-Song regime would subsequently launch, such as military operations against the Zheng and Liu families, the conquest of Taiwan, and the coastal conquest of the mainland, Hong Kong would also become the main military logistics support station.

The Planning Institute would establish a South China material procurement center in Hong Kong, relying on the Delong Hong Kong branch for clearing and payment. Supporting customs, commodity inspection, classification societies, and shipping insurance companies would also be gradually established.

The sun hung dazzlingly in the sky—yet the sunlight brought little warmth here. In the Macau of the Little Ice Age, the rich on the streets even wore leather robes. The poor wore bloated, patched cotton jackets.

The sunlight shone on the clusters of pointed roofs and fish-scale tiles in Macau. Some of the tiles on the roofs were pinkish, but most had turned reddish-brown or grayish-white after years of wind, rain, and sun, and they shimmered slightly in the sunlight.

The windows were inlaid with dense wooden lattices, some with intricate patterns. Even without curtains, it was impossible to see inside the houses from close up. The whitewashed walls had turned yellow from the rain. The walls reflected a grayish-white light, the wooden windowsills were cracked from the sun, and the paint on them had peeled off. In the depths of this cobblestone alley, one could still smell the mixed odor of urine, feces, and garbage.

In this alley full of exotic flavor, Lin Ming looked with a helpless expression at the enthusiastic Li Yongxun walking in front of him. She was in high spirits, looking around everywhere.

This “expedition” had been going on for the better part of the day, and Lin Ming was getting incredibly bored. Macau city itself was not large, and there was not much to see. The Portuguese forts and barracks looked neat and unique, but Chinese were not allowed to enter. As for the Portuguese residences, although they looked small and exquisite, and the lazy sound of a qin and a woman’s low singing could be heard from the closed windows, which sparked the imagination, they were, after all, private homes.

If he were in Foshan or even Guangzhou, as long as he showed his Jinyiwei badge, he could go wherever he wanted, as long as it wasn’t the home of a gentry family with an official background. If he liked a garden, he just had to send someone to say so, and the owner would not dare to say he was not welcome.

But here, the Portuguese controlled everything. Although there were many Ming people on the streets, they clearly followed a set of social norms with a strong foreign flavor. Lin Ming felt very uncomfortable with this—not only because he disliked the Portuguese, but also because he realized that he could not act as domineeringly on this land as he could elsewhere. The name of the Jinyiwei was not a fearsome term here. Although the Xiangshan County Magistrate was very respectful to him and had even assigned an interpreter to be his guide, he clearly did not want him to cause trouble here.

“What is this place?” Lin Ming, feeling impatient, asked the interpreter beside him.

“This is the Portuguese residential area, the Fifth Lane,” said the interpreter, a Ming merchant with a small mustache who specialized in selling fruits and vegetables to the Portuguese in Macau. He frequently traveled between Xiangshan and Macau and was familiar with both public and private affairs. He could also speak a fairly fluent Portuguese. The Xiangshan County Magistrate always brought him along for negotiations.

“What a boring place, all the doors and windows are shut tight!”

“Most of the back doors of the Portuguese merchants’ residences are here,” the interpreter said.

Lin Ming was about to scold the interpreter for bringing them here, but then he remembered that it was his precious sister-in-law who had asked to come here, so he swallowed his words.

“Don’t be impatient, sir,” the interpreter said, knowing his thoughts, and cautiously added, “At the end of this lane is the pier, where you can see the Portuguese’s large carracks. There are also many foreign sailors—sometimes you can even see foreign women!”

“Really? I’ve long wanted to see the large carracks. They say the hulls are several stories high, and the masts are even more frighteningly tall,” the slender youth in front turned his head and said. “How much further?”

“Not far, not far. Just out of this lane,” the interpreter said. He knew that the youth walking in front was actually a young woman: her overly delicate features, a high-pitched voice, slender frame, and the way she swayed her hips when she walked all clearly indicated her true gender. However, he had no desire to know what the Jinyiwei were doing in Macau.

Just then, she tripped and fell, twisting her ankle on the cobblestones and her shoe. She cried out and sat down on the stone pavement. Lin Ming immediately ran towards her.

“How are you? Are you hurt?” he bent down and frowned with concern. Li Yongxun grabbed her ankle and cried out in pain.

“I think I sprained it,” she said, unable to hold back a groan.

Lin Ming looked around. All the wooden doors here were locked, with protective iron bars on the outside. There was not a single pedestrian in the alley.

“I’ll go get a sedan chair right away,” the interpreter said tactfully. “I think you should take your sister to the Huang family first, and then get a doctor after she’s settled.”

The residence arranged for him in Macau by the Xiangshan County Magistrate was at the home of a wealthy merchant named Huang Shunlong. This Manager Huang was very amiable and extremely rich, and his residence was very luxuriously built. Lin Ming had heard from his colleagues in the past that Huang Shunlong was a “fence” who dealt in stolen goods and had connections with all the major figures on the seas. He not only bought stolen goods but also sold various contraband to the sea lords, a man with connections in high places.