Chapter 288: The Collaborators

A few of the Haenyeo stared wide-eyed at the “Wokou master” who had suddenly appeared in their straw hut. Seeing his grave expression, as if he were about to treat Pan, they could hardly believe their eyes. After a moment, one of the Haenyeo knelt and pleaded, “My lord, I beg you to save her! She has supported her whole family and has not yet married. If she dies, her entire family will not survive.”

“It’s alright, I can cure her,” Feng Zongze said. Incision and drainage was a very simple minor surgical procedure for medical personnel. Especially now that they had antibiotics like sulfa drugs, curing it was not difficult.

Feng Zongze had practiced his surgical skills on many refugees, and he performed the procedure with the grace of flowing water. In a few quick movements, the surgery was complete. He inserted a drainage strip and sprinkled anti-inflammatory powder on the wound. In his experience, sulfa powder was practically a “miracle drug,” incredibly effective at eliminating wound inflammation.

As expected, although there was a commotion among the Haenyeo when he first started cutting, they saw his skillful technique as he drained the pus and applied medicine. After he finished, Pan also became quiet. Knowing that the “Wokou master” had performed a medical procedure for her, they were moved to tears of gratitude and repeatedly performed deep bows.

“She’s fine now. Just take care of her for three to five days, and she’ll be well,” Feng Zongze said in Korean. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare a patient’s ration for her.”

The so-called patient’s ration was a type of relief ration specifically for the sick and wounded. It contained no sweet potato flour and was composed entirely of rice flour and starch, with a small amount of protein powder included. It was used to make a porridge that was nutritious and easy to digest.

Feng Zongze glanced at the Haenyeo. Since their capture, he had seen that the prisoners were all thinly clad, so he had ordered a set of cotton clothes, intended for the refugees, to be issued to each of them from the warehouse.

Although they were called cotton clothes, they were actually padded with cattail fluff, and not much of it. Their warmth was poor. But for the Haenyeo, who had been enduring the winter in just a single layer of clothing, these were clothes that could warm their hearts.

Seeing that the “Wokou” provided them with cotton clothes, fed them their fill of porridge every day, and even treated their illnesses, the Haenyeo were not only moved to tears of gratitude but also began to wonder. What did these strange “Wokou” really want?

If they had designs on their bodies, it had been several days since their capture, yet they had not been summoned to spend the night. They were just being held, with people coming every day to ask many questions.

And they gradually began to notice something else: these “Wokou” were actually Chinese! Because when they spoke to each other, they spoke Chinese. On Jeju Island, there were many descendants of exiles from the Yuan and Ming dynasties, some of whom could still speak Chinese. The Haenyeo had heard it before.

Could they be pirates from the Great Ming? But their attire was too strange.

The Haenyeo began to have their doubts, but their initial fear and resistance had dissipated considerably. They had come to feel that whether they were Wokou or pirates from the Great Ming, they were not bad people—at least not to poor people like them.

Feng Zongze, seeing that the time was right, released the Haenyeo to go home. However, he instructed them to find the villagers who were hiding in the nearby mountains and bring them back.

“We don’t steal things, we don’t burn houses, and we certainly don’t seize women,” Feng Zongze said, noticing a smile on the faces of some of the Haenyeo kneeling below. “As long as everyone comes back to work for us—for those who work for us, we will provide grain.” As he spoke, he took out a brown oil-paper package. It was something the Haenyeo had become very familiar with over the past few days: the relief ration.

To familiarize them with this ration, in the hope that it would one day achieve the same magical effect as the US military’s C-rations in World War II, he had had the Haenyeo help in the kitchen for the past few days, allowing them to become fully acquainted with its appearance and taste, so that the fame of the relief ration could be spread.

In 1631, Jeju Island had relatively good weather and no disasters. But in the preceding years, there had been disasters almost annually. The Joseon government forbade the people of Jeju from migrating to the mainland, and relief was not timely. Many starved to death, and many more risked their lives crossing the strait to flee to the peninsula. Those who survived had long suffered from hunger.

Although the fishing village had fish to supplement their food, the merchants who bought their seafood were extremely exploitative, selling grain at high prices while the abalone and sea cucumbers were worth little. The people of the fishing village lived a very bleak life of selling cheap and buying dear in a commodity economy.

People who have long struggled on the brink of starvation have a powerful desire to eat their fill. This is also a motivation that is most easily exploited and can unleash the greatest destructive force. The methods Feng Zongze used were not new, but they were just as effective.

Not long after the Haenyeo were released, they quickly mobilized the villagers who had fled to the mountains to return. Most families had no food stored for the next day and had been cut off from their daily catch. They could no longer survive hiding in the mountains. Now, hearing that the “kūnzéi Wokou” were offering amnesty, they came down.

After the villagers had all returned, Feng Zongze held a meeting in the village. He told the villagers to continue fishing and harvesting seafood, but that they had to sell all their catch to them. Payment would be made in grain and other daily necessities.

The villagers were, of course, willing—not that they had a choice. The merchants would obviously not come here to buy dried goods anymore, unless they were willing to abandon their homes and flee.

First, entice them with economic benefits, then move from quantitative change to qualitative change. This was the consistent method of the Senate’s civil affairs work.

The common people, in their hunger and desperation, were the most practical. Whoever could feed them and clothe them, they would follow, even if it was just a long-term promissory note. As long as you painted a good picture, you could still raise a following.

Feng Zongze had no doubt that with their subtle influence, the first batch of local collaborators would soon emerge from the fishing village.

The Park brothers, Deok-hwan and Deok-maeng, along with a dozen other captives captured by the special recon team, were sent to Seongsan.

The two brothers were in a daze throughout the journey, filled with fear and apprehension. They didn’t know where this group of strangely dressed Wokou was taking them. According to the horror stories circulating on the island, the Wokou would disembowel their captives and drink wine with their hearts. Even in the less gruesome stories, they would be taken back to Japan as slaves.

Compared to the former, the latter was more acceptable to the two brothers; after all, they were already slaves on Jeju. They were only worried that the language barrier would make life difficult. Of course, Park Deok-hwan was reluctant; he had spent a considerable amount of his savings preparing to build a house. If he were taken to Japan, he would have to start all over again.

It was only after their hoods were finally removed and they were settled that they realized they were in Jeongui County town—they had been sent to this area on errands for the Jeju garrison before. What surprised them even more was that Jeongui County town had already fallen into the hands of the Wokou! Inside and outside the town, there were kūnzéi, short-clothed Wokou everywhere, carrying “iron cannons.”

The fact that they hadn’t left Jeju Island for the time being brought them some relief. The captives were all brought to Jeongui County town. The Jeju Island Forward Command had set up a “study class” here, preparing to cultivate a large number of local collaborators.

The captured prisoners were screened through repeated interrogations until they had confessed everything they knew—not only about the local situation but also about themselves.

Feng Zongze read the interrogation reports every day, looking for usable talent. The Park brothers immediately caught his eye.

The Park brothers came from a background of government slaves: the oppressed lower class. Moreover, they were victims of a political struggle, having been from a middle-class family. The huge drop in status and lifestyle, from young masters to lowborns more wretched than commoners, could only instill in them a great hatred for the existing system. The two factors combined made them typical examples of those with “deep bitterness and great hatred.”

Feng Zongze knew that the hatred of such people was all-encompassing and twisted. Although they were powerless to change their situation due to their individual weakness and had to resign themselves to their fate, if they were given a chance for revenge, the power they could unleash would be extremely destructive.

Unhesitating betrayal and a satisfyingly thorough revenge. This is perfect, Feng Zongze thought.

They might not be suitable for construction, but they would spare no effort in acting as collaborators and destroying the old world and the old order.

What was even better was that they were the sons of a middle-class family, well-educated, and could read and write Chinese characters—they just couldn’t speak the language.

Compared to the wavering local clerks, the potential value of the Park brothers was much more appreciated by him.

Of course, there should be similar people among the government slaves they had taken over in the Jeongui garrison and the various forts. But for now, these two were the only ones who could be immediately put to use in Jeju. Among the three towns on Jeju Island, Jeju town was the most valuable. As soon as the situation in the two counties stabilized, they would take it.

Feng Zongze decided to personally work on these two men.

After repeatedly reading their files, Feng Zongze summoned the Park brothers to the interrogation room.

After asking a few simple personal questions, Feng Zongze asked:

“Park Deok-hwan, how old are you?”

“This humble one is twenty.”

“Are you married?”

“No…” Park Deok-hwan said uneasily, wondering why this Wokou master was asking this. In the past few days, he had already sensed that these people were definitely not Wokou. They spoke Chinese and wrote Chinese characters. They were most likely from the Great Ming.

But people from the Great Ming did not look like this. Park Deok-hwan still remembered seeing an envoy from the Great Ming when he accompanied his father to the government office as a boy. Whether in official or casual dress, neither the officials nor the servants had shaved heads, let alone this strange kind of short, front-opening jacket.

“Twenty years old is not young. Why haven’t you married? ‘There are three ways to be unfilial, and having no heir is the greatest.’” The scholar-gentry of Korea were all Confucian believers, adhering to the Confucian classics to a rigid degree. Since Park Deok-hwan was the son of a middle-class family and had been educated, this doctrine must have been deeply ingrained in him.

This question brought up all the recent hardships and difficulties of his marriage preparations from the depths of his heart. It also made him think of his deceased relatives, especially his grandmother and mother who had died on the road, and their exhortations for him to “carry on the family line.” His eyes turned red, and he fought back his emotions, saying:

“This humble one is a government slave; marriage is not a matter for me to decide.”