Chapter 164: On the Qiantang River

The Wanbi Bookstore, which had been bustling with activity, suddenly fell quiet. Two days ago, news that shook the entire city had captured everyone’s attention.

A large, strangely shaped sailing ship had entered the Qiantang River from Biezimen and was now anchored on the river outside Hangzhou. From the city walls, one could see this streamlined vessel with its tall masts and white triangular sails, a sight that attracted many onlookers. Some idle gentlemen climbed the city walls or other high places to gaze at this peculiar ship, pointing and chattering.

Those who had been to sea, to the coasts of Guangdong and Fujian, and had seen the ships of the “red-haired” people, or those who had seen the rare “Illustrated Journal of Things” at the Wanbi Bookstore, could recognize that this was a so-called “red-haired ship.” Some even knew that it was probably an “Australian ship.”

But it was far more beautiful than the red-haired ships. Though large, they did not possess such elegant lines, nor did they have a strange chimney that constantly emitted smoke.

The ship was anchored in the middle of the river, and several small boats were lowered to cruise on the water. The boatmen on the river had all fled, of course, but the gentlemen and idle folk in the city, standing on the safe city walls, still pointed at the ship’s rigging and cannons with great interest. The city was abuzz with discussion.

For the officials of Hangzhou prefecture and its two counties, the sudden appearance of the Haitian was like a heavy blow. Since the Wokou raids of the Jiajing period, nothing threatening had ever appeared outside Hangzhou. The appearance of this ship seemed to announce that such peaceful days were gone forever.

They had already received news that just two days ago, the government troops and local militia of the Haimen Garrison had suffered a defeat near Biezimen, with hundreds killed, injured, or missing. The ones who had defeated them were the people on this strange ship.

Though the news said that the “sea pirates” numbered in the “thousands,” anyone who wasn’t a fool could see that this ship could not possibly hold so many. Privately, there was news that the enemy actually had only twenty men, yet they had routed over a thousand government troops and local militia.

The officials vaguely knew that this was a new group of overseas barbarians from Guangdong—the “Kunzei.” Last year, they had raided Qiongzhou and Guangzhou. After killing and plundering, they had failed to capture the cities and had retreated back to the sea. Unexpectedly, they had now appeared in Zhejiang, brazenly entering the Qiantang River, all the way to the outskirts of Hangzhou.

The officials, big and small, were at a loss. Should they immediately dispatch troops and fight a decisive battle with this ship, or should they send an interpreter to inquire about its intentions and try to persuade it to withdraw?

After some debate, the officials finally decided not to start a war lightly. War was a waste of money, and the outcome was not guaranteed. It could even lead to bigger trouble. The lesson from the Guangdong officialdom was still fresh; they knew something about the battle of Guangzhou. Since the Guangdong coastal defense commander had suffered a major defeat at the hands of these “Kunzei,” the Zhejiang navy was unlikely to fare any better. In any case, the other side had not taken any armed action so far, and all they did was cruise back and forth on the river in a few small boats.

Though this matter concerned the whole of Zhejiang, the specific handling of it fell to the prefect of Hangzhou. The prefect had no choice but to instruct the two county magistrates to “pacify the people” on the one hand—whenever there was any disturbance, the common people would inevitably be in a state of panic, and the various heroes in and out of the city would be eager to make a fortune. On the other hand, he searched the city for someone who could handle the negotiations.

Li Damin shifted his body and woke from a groggy nightmare. He felt his body swaying. He forced his eyes open and saw the dark planks of a cabin. He was lying in a net, swaying slowly and rhythmically.

He was dazed for a moment, not knowing where he was. It took him a while to come to his senses. He remembered the last moment: fleeing for his life in a crowd of screaming people, shouting for his father, trying to find Li Shanmin in the chaos. The pirates’ gunfire was as dense as popping beans. People kept falling, blood splattering his body and face. Finally, after a huge roar, he was knocked down and lost consciousness.

The memory brought a wave of pain. He lifted the coarse cloth quilt. It was not thick, but it was clean. He was startled to find himself naked in this net bag. His body was covered in bruises, and white cloth strips were wrapped around his legs. It looked terrible, reminding him of a companion who had been beaten with hundreds of clubs for “violating military law” and sent home a few years ago. The man had died that night.

Looking around, it was a small cabin with twelve similar net bags hanging in it, each with a person sleeping inside. The cabin was constantly rising and falling.

“Damin!”

Hearing someone call him, he looked closely and saw it was his neighbor, Wang Jiashan. Before the pirates’ first volley, he had been standing next to him.

“Uncle, where is this?” Li Damin asked quickly. “Where’s my father?”

“I haven’t seen him…” Wang Jiashan was injured somewhere and was panting as he spoke. “But I saw him running very fast… He’s probably… fine.”

“Where is this?”

“It’s…” Li Shanmin wanted to say “on the pirates’ ship,” but it wouldn’t do to call them “pirates” on their own territory. Besides, these “pirates” had kindly saved him from a pile of dead bodies. “…on that ship…”

Li Damin was startled and began to tremble. After all, he was only a fifteen-year-old boy. He had just experienced a nightmarish slaughter and rout, and now he found himself trapped on a “pirate ship.” How could he not be afraid?

As they were talking, there was a sudden sound of footsteps on the deck above. The grate on the ceiling opened, and a boy came down the ladder. He was no more than fourteen or fifteen years old, with a monk-like short haircut, wearing a gray cloth jacket, and carrying a leather box slung over his shoulder.

Wang Jiashan quickly greeted him, “Doctor Fu…” He tried to sit up.

The boy waved his hand. “Don’t move. Your injuries haven’t healed yet.” He came over and asked a few questions, nothing more than how he felt, whether the wound was painful, and so on. Then he looked at his tongue coating and took his pulse.

“Your injuries are mostly fine. Just rest for a few days. I’ll send down some herbal soup later. A few more doses will do.” The boy then turned around. He was Liu San’s apprentice, Fu Wuben. This time, he had come with Liu San to serve as the ship’s doctor on the Haitian.

Seeing that Li Damin was awake, he asked about his condition. Li Damin knew a little Nanjing Mandarin and could barely understand Fu Wuben’s Putonghua. Seeing his kind expression and that he was giving him herbal soup, he thought he had no ill intentions. He told him about the pain in his chest and ribs.

“It’s nothing. Your ribs were stepped on. You’re lucky they’re not broken. But you have some bruises,” Fu Wuben said. “Drink the medicine later, and it will slowly get better.”

“Sir,” Li Damin summoned his courage and asked, seeing his gentle demeanor, “have you seen someone named Li Shanmin?”

“Li Shanmin? No, I haven’t.” Fu Wuben shook his head. Seeing the look of disappointment and worry on his face, he comforted him, “I heard it was chaotic then, and many people ran away. Maybe he ran back? Don’t worry. The chiefs don’t kill people indiscriminately. Even though you’re injured and a prisoner now, you’ve escaped from a sea of suffering. You won’t have to serve the government and suffer anymore. Just wait for a good life.”

Li Damin was confused. He didn’t know what “good life” there was for a prisoner. It was already a great mercy not to be killed by the pirates. Although he was young, he could tell from Fu Wuben’s words that they would not be released. He was afraid they would be taken to some place overseas. The thought of leaving his home and never seeing his parents and siblings again was like a knife to his heart. But in front of the “pirates,” he did not dare to show such emotions, lest he lose his life.

Fu Wuben made his rounds to all the injured prisoners in the sickbay in the bottom of the ship, distributed medicine, and changed the dressings for those with external injuries. He was now very proficient in all of this. Two years of extensive training and practice, and Liu San’s painstaking cultivation had borne fruit. Fu Wuben was now not only Liu San’s disciple and assistant but also one of the first registered medical practitioners certified by the Ministry of Health. He made rounds at the various branches of the Runshitang in Lingao every week. He also had to spend one day a week seeing patients with Liu San at the general hospital.

Although Fu Wuben studied Chinese medicine, Liu San also constantly taught him some theories and knowledge of modern medicine during his studies. He also let him sit in on some courses and participate in anatomical observations, trying to make him “proficient in both Chinese and Western medicine.” Fu Wuben was a good learner and was willing to study hard. He made rapid progress, and Liu San thought highly of him.

“You’ve done well,” Liu San said after reading the medical records and his rounds log. He believed that his various diagnoses and treatments were not a problem. “There are dozens of prisoners on the ship now. The population density is high, so we must pay more attention to epidemic prevention and hygiene.”

After arranging things, Liu San walked out of the ship’s sickbay and went to the sterncastle deck for some fresh air. The Haitian was anchored in the Qiantang River, and the sailors were taking this rare opportunity to wash the deck with river water and wash their clothes and hammocks.

He was in a bad mood. It was not necessary for Liu San to go north with the ship this time. He knew very well that the Executive Committee had arranged for him to be on the Haitian largely to let him lie low for a while.

The matter of Xuan Chun’s pregnancy could no longer be concealed. Originally, it was no longer a novelty for a naturalized citizen maid to get pregnant and give birth in Lingao. Tang Menglong had taken the lead: his maid had given birth to a son, and then more maids were reported to be pregnant. The Senate was welcoming a “baby boom.”