Chapter 236: Changhua Fort

This was Changhua Fort. Since the first circumnavigation of the island, Changhua, as the first independent outpost, had been expanded several times. From an originally simple fortified blockhouse, it had expanded into a small coastal bastion. Under the fluttering Morning Star flag, a 24-pounder naval cannon on the bastion controlled Changhua’s sea gate, Sanjia Port.

Less than a kilometer from the bastion, on the barren coastal plain near the Changhua River, a large area of wasteland was enclosed with wooden fences and fast-growing thorny plants, where rows of livestock sheds were built. This was the Changhua Ranch—currently the main source of draft animals and meat livestock for Lin’gao.

The Agricultural Committee raised a large number of the famous Changhua sheep on this coastal ranch. The cattle were supplied by the local Li people. Wu Nanhai and Yang Baogui had visited the Changhua Ranch many times to inspect and guide the work, constantly expanding the scale of the breeding industry. In particular, Yang Baogui used Changhua sheep as the mother stock and used frozen semen to breed improved sheep. The Agricultural Committee also planted a large amount of high-quality pasture grass suitable for the local soil and climate.

Thanks to the efforts of the Agricultural Committee, Changhua now transported a large number of live sheep and cattle to Lin’gao every month.

Outside the Changhua Ranch, a small regular market had formed. The Li people came here on the first and fifteenth of each month to trade various local products: cattle, cotton cloth, venison, deer skins, kapok, and soap beans for salt, small hardware, white sugar, and various daily necessities. At other times, Changhua Fort also sent out mobile trading caravans to trade deep in the interior of Changhua.

The large amount of miscellaneous goods transported from Lin’gao stimulated the consumption desire of the Li people. Compared to the past, when there was only one peddler with a basket, selling nothing but salt and hardware at exorbitant prices, the goods provided by the Australians were diverse, of high quality, and much cheaper.

Although the Li people did not accumulate gold and silver, there were many local products in the mountains. As long as they put in the effort, there were local products everywhere that the Australians were willing to exchange. If it weren’t for the Planning Commission’s unwillingness to let the deer species in Changhua go extinct at once and limiting the monthly purchase quantity, the Li people would probably have killed all the local deer long ago.

Such trade certainly destroyed the livelihood of some local people, but the construction and operation of Changhua Fort required a large amount of manpower, and these unemployed people were soon hired by Changhua Fort. Although some people harbored resentment, no one dared to provoke the “short-haired bandits” (Kunzei), who were armed with guns and cannons.

In addition to barter trade with the Li people, Li Haiping also hired a large number of local laborers to mine quartz sand to supply Lin’gao’s glass industry, according to the instructions of the industrial department.

As Changhua Fort hired more and more people, Commander Li Haiping selected a portion of the able-bodied men from among the hired people and formed a fifty-man “militia,” equipped with machetes and standard spears, to protect the safety of the ranch.

As for the local government, they turned a blind eye to the actions of the short-haired bandits. Of course, even if they wanted to do something, they were powerless. In Changhua, the presence of the Great Ming was very weak.

This peaceful situation continued until the Summer Awakening Campaign. A company of marines and three 12-pounder mountain howitzers landed at Sanjia Port. Then, under the leadership of the “collaborators” organized by Changhua Fort—the Changhua Fort militia—they quickly advanced to the city of Changhua. The county’s acting magistrate, the dianshi, opened the city gates and surrendered without hesitation. As for the chiliarch garrison outside the city, although they had once gathered the able-bodied men among the military households to prepare for battle, when the marines rolled out the cannons and fired just one shot, the garrison soldiers scattered and fled. Li Haiping led the marines in a charge and captured the chiliarch garrison. The rest of the people all surrendered without a fight. There were zero casualties on both sides.

Changhua had a very small Han Chinese population. Except for a few military officer landlords in the chiliarch garrison, there were no powerful gentry. Because there were few villages and many Li areas, there was no room for bandits to operate. It had been very peaceful here during the Qiongbei Pacification War, with no armed conflicts. It was a typical case of peaceful takeover.

Although they had occupied the county seat, the Council of Elders’ ruling body had not yet entered the city of Changhua. The original Changhua dianshi, who was “in charge of the Changhua county seal,” was still in the dilapidated county yamen. It was not to deliberately maintain the name of the Great Ming, but because there were really no buildings in the entire city of Changhua that the Elders looked upon favorably. It was better to stay in the much better environment of Changhua Fort than in the county seat, which had no infrastructure.

A few months ago, a joint working group sent from Lin’gao conducted a comprehensive census in Changhua, registered the households, surveyed the terrain and towns, and drew up a land register. They also inevitably arrested a number of people and killed several, taking control of all the local land, population, and resources.

After a period of “rectification,” the Council of Elders became the master of the entire Changhua County. More than six hundred registered households and the same number of unregistered households all came under the rule of the Council of Elders, becoming a labor force that could be driven at will.

Because Changhua had a small population and almost no economy, although it was rich in natural resources, there was currently no ability to develop it. There were not many military affairs or civil affairs to manage, so the person sent to preside over the county government and concurrently serve as the commander of Changhua Fort was Kong Lingyang. Kong Lingyang was not an officer of the Fubo Army, but a genuine agricultural technician who worked in the Agricultural Committee. His appointment as the commander of Changhua Fort showed the Council of Elders’ positioning of this place.

Kong Lingyang was a “general” in the animal husbandry section of the Agricultural Committee. He and Yang Baogui were semi-colleagues, both having started as veterinarians and later working at the breeding station. Although his academic qualifications and work experience were very presentable, and he had even obtained a full set of professional tools for the animal husbandry and veterinary station and various breeding eggs and fine semen for the transmigration. After D-Day, he had been quietly assisting Yang Baogui in animal husbandry work in the Agricultural Committee for a long time, unwilling to appear too “professional,” lest he be pigeonholed as a “technical personnel.” From his personal experience in the old world, being a “technical personnel” was far less likely to lead to rapid advancement than being an “administrative personnel.”

Yang Baogui was now famous in the Council of Elders. He attended every expanded meeting of the Executive Committee on agricultural issues and was indeed very prominent, but in the end, he would define himself as a “chief veterinarian.” Kong Lingyang’s ambition was not there.

A few months ago, he was sent to Changhua to serve as the director of the county office and the commander of Changhua Fort, which he felt was a solid first step in his official career. Although this appointment was mainly due to his professional skills—the Planning Commission was currently unable to carry out in-depth development of Changhua, and the local positioning was mainly focused on agriculture and animal husbandry, supplemented by a small amount of natural resource collection.

In this way, when selecting the county office director for Changhua, Kong Lingyang, who had agricultural and animal husbandry skills, was not a key figure in the Agricultural Committee or the Tiandihui, and had taken the initiative to sign up, became the most suitable candidate. Moreover, he had at least been a civil servant and had some understanding of administrative operations.

The status of Changhua was certainly not comparable to the large county towns in Qiongbei managed by Liu Xiang and others, but at least the whole county had about a thousand households, a population of less than ten thousand, a reinforced platoon of marines, and a newly formed county security company of the National Army—the original Changhua Fort militia. Although it was called a company, it currently only had about fifty people and needed to be further adjusted and strengthened.

The soldiers of the county security companies formed in various counties were mostly recruited locally and were currently only for emergency needs. After the situation in each county stabilized and a large number of immigrants arrived, the Training Directorate would adjust and rotate all the county security companies of the National Army. According to the plan, each company would have some people serving locally and some serving in other places.

At this time, in the main hall at the top of the main tower in the bastion, a small banquet was being held to welcome Major Wei Aiwen of the General Staff’s Political Department, Mu Min, and Fang Jinghan, who had just arrived by boat.

On the table, more than a dozen steaming dishes were laid out, all provided by the local vegetable garden, livestock pens, and fishing boats. The most conspicuous was a large plate of roasted mutton skewers, sprinkled with sesame, cumin, and chili, roasted to a fragrant aroma. Although eating this dish in the hot summer of Changhua was a bit hard to swallow, for the Elders who were severely lacking in meat and had a large consumption, the climate would not affect their appetite.

There was no cooling equipment or ice in the room, but it was near the sea and on the third floor. The windows were open, and the sea breeze was refreshing. With a large amount of chilled soft drinks from the well, the few of them ate until they were sweating profusely, shouting “delightful.”

Except for Mu Min, who ate a little less, Wei Aiwen and the others ate and drank heartily. Soon, the table was piled with bamboo skewers and many bottles of kvass and rice beer.

Kong Lingyang didn’t eat much—the food supply here was abundant, and he was one of the few Elders who had meat every day. Kong Lingyang was a fat man with square-rimmed glasses, wearing a summer training suit made of Lin’gao cotton. He wiped his sweat with a towel while urging everyone to eat and drink.

“Old Kong, the conditions here are really good,” Wei Aiwen finally finished eating. He patted his belly, picked his teeth, and praised.

“Not at all, it’s all thanks to the good leadership of the Council of Elders and the Executive Committee…” Kong Lingyang avoided mentioning the names of Wen Zong and Du Gong to avoid having too distinct a personal color. Avoid taking sides before the situation is clear; this was one of the lessons Kong Lingyang had learned from his more than five years as a civil servant.

“Don’t be so modest,” Wei Aiwen chuckled. “The pavilion near the water gets the moonlight first. We are not unreasonable people.” He burped and asked the others, “Shall we talk about work now?”

Mu Min nodded. “I’m full too. It’s a good time to talk.”

Fang Jinghan and the others naturally had no objections—everyone was almost full.

Kong Lingyang nodded repeatedly. “Good, good.” He had someone clear the leftovers from the table and prepare tea, paper, and stationery. He guessed that the sudden arrival of these “people from the central government” was most likely related to the local Li ethnic affairs.