Chapter 203: The Jianghu Travelers

Lu Wenyuan’s face broke into a mysterious smile. This island was quite good, apart from the worrying winter. After returning, he immediately decided to buy the land.

Sun Yuanhua was greatly surprised to hear that Master Zhao’s “nephew” had chosen such a piece of land. To ensure that Sun Yuanhua would continue to look after his interests after Zhao Yingong’s departure, Lu Wenyuan had reluctantly agreed to be considered a “nephew.” The ancients trusted blood relations more than cooperative ones. However, Zhao Yingong explained that he had specifically chosen this land to test the feasibility of agriculture on saline and sandy soil.

Although Sun Yuanhua was very skeptical of Zhao Yingong’s “introduction of new species,” he still expressed his strong support. He recalled how Xu Guangqi had introduced sweet potatoes in Jiangnan and Tianjin many years ago. At that time, many people were also skeptical, but it ultimately succeeded. Perhaps these two men from Guangdong could really cultivate crops suitable for beach and saline-alkaline land. If so, it would be a boundless merit.

Under Sun Yuanhua’s direct care, the matter of Lu Wenyuan buying land on Qimu Island was quickly settled. The entire Qimu Island, not including the sandbar, had an area of 4 square kilometers, totaling no more than 6,000 mu of land. In the end, Lu Wenyuan bought most of the land on the island for three hundred and twenty taels, including all the mountains in the northern part of the island.

Zhao Yingong had successfully inserted Jin Lige into the Shandong church, and with Lu Wenyuan’s status as a convert, he had gained a certain influence over the Shandong church. With the support of the Shandong church, especially the gentry within it, the development plan for Qimu Island proceeded quite smoothly. The magistrate of Huang County, hearing that “Master Lu” had connections to Governor Sun, was very polite to Lu Wenyuan when he came to handle the deeds. Not only were all the procedures handled smoothly, but he also specially dispatched yamen runners to Qimu Island to “suppress” any trouble.

Lu Wenyuan felt this was a bit superfluous. When he politely declined, the county magistrate said that this could “intimidate the troublemakers and prevent them from causing trouble.” Lu Wenyuan had been on construction sites during his internship in the old world and had seen all sorts of stories, such as blocking gates, lying in front of bulldozers, group fights, and stealing materials, so he agreed. Of course, he had to spend some money on the county magistrate, the assistant magistrate, and the yamen runners.

“Buying a piece of land cost three hundred and twenty taels, and the red envelopes cost eighty taels. Corruption! So corrupt!” Lu Wenyuan muttered to himself after leaving the Huang County yamen.

Opinions were opinions, but for now, the protection of the Huang County yamen was still needed. When Kong Youde started his rebellion, he could do whatever he wanted, but for now, he still needed the “local government” to protect his rights as a “developer.”

Zhao Yingong’s main task for him was to quickly build a fortified farm and a wharf that could accommodate ships of at least two to three hundred tons.

“As for farmland and water conservancy, just go through the motions. The key is to ensure the safety of Qimu Island. We absolutely cannot let Kong Youde attack it.”

He speculated that when Kong Youde marched, he would not deliberately march along the coast to the Longkou area. Historically, he had marched directly to the Huang County seat. However, there would likely be many small units sent out to plunder grain and conscript people. Historically, rebel armies and disorderly troops all did this while on the march. So it was possible for small groups of men to come to Longkou. After all, there were some villages on the coast, and there was a trade market in Longkou. In addition, considering that Kong Youde eventually fled by sea, if he needed to collect ships, Longkou, with its gathering of foreign merchant ships, would also be a suitable target. Therefore, the overall defense level did not need to be too high, but it had to have a considerable self-protection capability.

“I’ll leave Wang Qisuo with you,” Zhao Yingong said. “This person is a local salt smuggler and a military household. He is very familiar with the local situation. You can use him for now, but remember that he has not undergone a political background check, so you can’t reveal too much to him.”

“I know that. Anyway, I’m just a landlord here building a stockade for self-protection. That’s all they need to know. Besides, I don’t have many naturalized citizens under my command.”

Since Huang An’de had connected with Sun Yuan, their relationship had quickly warmed up under his careful management. He frequently entered and exited the water city under the pretext of visiting relatives and friends. He also gave some local products from Zhejiang as gifts, which cost little but won him a lot of goodwill. Before long, he no longer had to mix in with the artisans to enter and exit, but could do so openly and freely. The officers at the gate knew he used to be a soldier of this garrison and had many acquaintances, so they did not stop him. Huang An’de not only became sworn brothers with Sun Yuan but also gathered seven or eight of his old, reliable comrades. He often treated them to drinks, and they became a small clique. He could quickly find out about any trivial matter that happened in the water city.

Although most of the information he collected was of little value to Zhao Yingong, successfully infiltrating the Dengzhou water city and forming a small group was a good gain. But he had to return to Hangzhou soon. Once the master left, it would be too conspicuous for his personal attendant to continue coming and going in Dengzhou. So he instructed him through Huang An’de’s superior to go to Huang County with Lu Wenyuan and only go to Dengzhou twice a month to check the situation.

Before leaving Shandong, Zhao Yingong also made arrangements for Daoist Priest Daoquan’s reception of the Yizhou refugees. The matter of receiving the refugees had been approved by Sun Yuanhua, so there were no major official problems. The key was to prepare enough food and lodging.

“I just don’t know how the progress in Taiwan is,” Zhao Yingong knew that according to the schedule, the first fleet to Taiwan should arrive in Kaohsiung in the next few days. If the Yizhou refugees could arrive in time, they could be transported to fill the gap in the pioneering team. But he didn’t know if Daoist Priest Daoquan’s work was going smoothly. The letters he received mentioned that his current situation was perilous.

While Zhao Yingong and Lu Wenyuan were busy arranging for the reception of the Yizhou refugees, Daoist Priest Zhang was in great danger.

Although he maintained a deliberately low profile in Yizhou and rarely preached the doctrines of the New Taoism, his presence had still attracted the attention of certain forces. Just as he was eagerly expanding his influence and waiting for the missionaries sent from Lingao, a group of people had arrived in Yizhou.

After the flood, the land of southern Shandong was a barren wasteland for a thousand li. Apart from the bones along the roads and the occasional groups of refugees passing by, it was dead silent everywhere.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves echoed on the road, and seven or eight riders galloped past. The weather was hot, and the riders also seemed listless. Their wide-brimmed sun hats were pulled down low, and they held the reins loosely, letting their horses wander at will, as if dozing in the saddle. They had swords and bags at their waists, clearly long-distance travelers of the jianghu.

On the official road near Yizhou, there were gradually more people and travelers. The market had recovered slightly after the floodwaters receded. The water marks left by the flood on the Yizhou city walls were still visible. The city walls, soaked through by the water, were now gradually cracking under the scorching sun, and many of the bricks had fallen off. In one place, a gap several zhang wide had even collapsed. Bricks and yellow earth were piled up on and below the wall. Although life was difficult for the people, the local officials did not dare to relax their guard on the city’s defenses in the slightest. In recent years, almost every major disaster had been followed by a refugee riot.

The moat outside the city was unusually full due to the flood. In the past, in the summer, the water in the moat was only a thin line in the middle, not even ankle-deep.

On the east side of the road outside the north gate of the city was a large mat shed, selling some tea and pancakes for people to rest. Behind the shed was a green jujube grove, and the dense shade of the trees provided some coolness. On the rammed earth ground to the left and right of the shed were three carts and four or five cool sedan chairs. A dozen or so donkeys, horses, and mules were tied to the hitching posts under the trees, drinking water drawn from a well with a pulley from a large stone trough.

Many travelers were already resting in the mat shed. Since they had to wait until the afternoon when the sun was low to continue their journey, some travelers who were traveling together simply took turns napping. This place was very close to the prefectural city, so there would be no robbers, but the government didn’t care about petty thieves, so they had to be careful themselves. Losing money and dry food during the journey was a death sentence here—they couldn’t even beg for food.

They couldn’t risk heatstroke by traveling at noon and had to wait until the sun was low and the heat had dissipated a little before setting off. It was not uncommon for people to die of heatstroke from traveling under the scorching sun, especially after a flood. The water vapor from the ground surface made the air hot and humid, almost suffocating, like being in a large steamer.

When the riders arrived at the mat shed, they dismounted one after another to rest. Their movements were extremely neat. A few went to water the horses, a few occupied a table, and ordered the waiter to prepare tea and dry food.

Although each of them wore a bamboo hat and a veil, and was dressed in coarse cloth, three of them had slender figures, clearly women.

“I didn’t expect there to be such a cool place here,” one of the women said.

Her voice was crisp and clear, like a silver bell. She was obviously a young and charming woman. She patted the dust off her clothes, took off her bamboo hat, and removed the green veil and the cloth covering her face. Although her appearance was not striking, it was enough to make one’s imagination run wild. But the attire and weapons of her group showed that they were undoubtedly people of the jianghu, ready to draw their swords and shed blood at a moment’s notice.

The waiter at the tea shed had already come forward with a beaming smile. This group was clearly not to be trifled with, so he was extra careful in his service.

The riders, though of different heights and builds, old and young, men and women, all had a heroic and fierce air. Even the three women had a cold glint in their eyes from time to time. A few timid travelers simply turned their heads away and didn’t look at them, to avoid getting into trouble. Nowadays, dying on the main road was no different from a bug dying.

“It’s cool here, but just across the city wall is a living hell,” a middle-aged man with a local accent said. “The congee distribution center is in the south of the city. The starving people are all gathered there. Every day, dozens of starved corpses are carried out to the cremation ground.”