Chapter 394 - Bathing

The rooms at the customs house did not have bathrooms—they were intended for office use in the future. However, there was a public bathroom with showers on the ground floor. In a subtropical region, public bathrooms were indispensable to keep civil servants clean.

Zhong Xiaoying carried a rattan laundry basket made by the Lingao Woodworking Factory, filled with a change of clothes, soap, and other items. She led Kretia quietly down the stairs. The hallway was dark, but the moonlight outside was bright enough for them to see the way.

Zhong Xiaoying led her to two doors, opened one with a flower painted on it, and then took out a pack of “Aussie Fire”—matches—from her pocket. She struck one and carefully lit the gas lamp in the bathroom.

The light from the gas lamp was very bright. Kretia looked around the “public bathroom” curiously. On one wall was a row of wooden shelves with compartments, each containing a rattan basket for clothes. On the other side was a wooden bench.

“Come, let’s undress here,” Zhong Xiaoying said.

“Is it appropriate here?” Although Kretia had been coaxed into the bathroom by Zhong Xiaoying, she still felt a little unsafe. She had bathed a few times in Batavia, always in the bedroom of the governor’s mansion in the castle, never in such an open place.

“It’s fine,” Zhong Xiaoying knew that the front and back doors of the customs house were locked at night, and there were soldiers and military dogs on patrol. Although the bathroom had windows, they were high up and covered with wooden shutters and iron mesh screens.

Although she was in the presence of someone of the same sex, Kretia was still slightly shy about undressing. She took off her corset but kept on her chemise. Fortunately, Zhong Xiaoying did not “bare all” either, but wore a nightgown.

“Come on,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s be quiet, everyone is asleep.”

Kretia’s cheeks flushed—she felt her heart pounding, a sense of ambiguity. For a moment, she even wondered if she should have followed her into the bathroom.

The bathroom inside was not large, with more than a dozen small, open-fronted cubicles along the walls. The walls and floor were tiled, and there were drainage channels on the floor. Along the walls were also some long wooden stools for scrubbing. This place was used every day, so there were still water stains on the floor.

“Come on, take off your clothes and rinse off first,” Zhong Xiaoying handed her the small rattan basket.

“This is a towel, this is soap with lavender essential oil, a special supply for the Yuanlao, and this glass bottle contains shampoo, also lavender-scented. It makes your hair soft and clean,” Zhong Xiaoying said, looking at her curly blonde hair. “Your hair is so beautiful!”

“Your long black hair is also very beautiful,” Kretia said, but hesitated to take off her clothes.

Zhong Xiaoying knew she was embarrassed and turned around, saying, “I’ll wait for you over here. Come and sit down after you’ve rinsed off, and I’ll help you scrub your back.”

Kretia blushed and, as if she were a thief, took off her chemise and quickly hid in a cubicle. She turned on the tap and began to wash.

She washed several times before steeling herself to lie down on the wooden stool in front of Zhong Xiaoying, letting Zhong Xiaoying scrub her body.

“I’m using a loofah, it might hurt a little.”

“It’s alright, I can bear it,” Kretia said in a low voice.

Zhong Xiaoying scrubbed and washed with the loofah, lathering with soap and rinsing with water. It took a long time to scrub off the accumulated dirt from Kretia’s body, leaving her skin red. Under the alternating rubbing of the loofah and soap, Kretia’s body tensed and relaxed from time to time. Her face was flushed, her eyes tightly closed, and she clenched her teeth, letting Zhong Xiaoying do as she pleased. However, she couldn’t help but let out a few “hmm” and “ah” sounds from time to time.

It wasn’t until another ladle of clear water was poured over her that she heard Zhong Xiaoying’s slightly tired voice, “Alright, get up.”

Kretia quickly sat up. Her blonde hair was wet and scattered over her chest, her cheeks were flushed, and her large blue eyes were misty, as if covered by a layer of water vapor. Her lips were as red as blood, and her curvaceous body was fair with a hint of red, which made even Zhong Xiaoying stare for a moment, her throat feeling dry. She quickly looked away.

Zhong Xiaoying secretly felt it was a pity. Although the white woman had blue eyes and blonde hair, and a different kind of charm compared to Han Chinese women, her skin felt rough and was covered with small bumps. After washing off the sweat and grime, there was a faint musky smell—even the lavender soap couldn’t cover it.

“Alright, let’s go get dressed,” Zhong Xiaoying said, pretending to be calm as she helped her up. At this moment, the soap slipped from her hand and fell. She quickly bent down to pick it up. In her haste, she slipped again, and felt her cheek being pressed tightly against a firm and elastic object, causing her face to flush.

She quickly steadied herself and saw that Kretia was also blushing. The two of them walked to the changing room without saying a word.

With Zhong Xiaoying’s help, Kretia changed her clothes. These were new clothes that Zhong Xiaoying had specially chosen, all bought for her by Dr. Zhong. The two of them were about the same height and weight, but Kretia’s figure was a little fuller than Zhong Xiaoying’s, so the clothes were a bit tight.

Some of the clothes were things Kretia had never seen before—she had never worn a bra. Zhong Xiaoying helped her put it on, teaching her the method: first, she had her lean forward, fit her breasts into the cups, then helped her fasten it and adjust the straps. During this process, her hands brushed against some delicate and sensitive skin, and Kretia couldn’t help but let out a few soft gasps.

The next morning, Dr. Zhong woke up early, but found that his daughter, who usually woke up earlier than him, was still fast asleep. He washed up himself and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. In the hallway, he met Westerly.

“Good morning, Westerly.”

“Good morning, Dr. Zhong,” Westerly said. “Has Miss Zhong already gone to the kitchen?”

“She is still resting. She may have been too tired these past few days,” Zhong Lishi said.

“Oh, Kretia is also sleeping,” Westerly said. “Let’s go to the construction site after breakfast.”

At this time, less than three hundred meters from the customs house, there was a small prefabricated wooden building. There were sentries standing guard at the entrance, but no signs were hung. The windows of this small building were always covered with shutters, and at night, light always shone through the cracks in the windows.

This was the Kaohsiung office of the Political Security General Bureau and the Kaohsiung office of the Foreign Intelligence Bureau. The two agencies each occupied half of the small building, with the staircase in the middle.

At 7 a.m., the port’s steam whistle sounded. The staff in the office building were working nervously—the work of these two departments was round-the-clock. Operation Engine was underway, and the movements of Zheng Zhilong in the Taiwan Strait had to be monitored at all times. A large amount of intelligence and materials poured in, keeping everyone extremely busy.

Xu Ke came out of his office—as a dedicated naval intelligence officer of the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, he had been stationed here since D-Day in Kaohsiung. The biggest and most dangerous enemies at sea, the Dutch and Zheng Zhilong, were both active in the Taiwan Strait, and the navy urgently needed to collect intelligence on their activities. Xu Ke had come to Kaohsiung to undertake this task.

He had been working all night, reading intelligence reports from various parts of the Fujian coast, in order to provide a weekly intelligence assessment to the Yuanlao Senate, the General Staff, and the First and Second Fleets. This was a great responsibility, and Xu Ke had to be fully focused. The intelligence agents were scattered in Zheng Zhilong’s main areas of activity, collecting information on the flow of trade goods, recruitment, and shipbuilding, and reporting the daily dynamic changes of ships in the port.

From the current situation, Zheng Zhilong had not made any unusual moves. As he was pondering how to write the report, a guard in the hallway called out to him, “Headman, there’s a sailor at the door who wants to see you. He says he’s from the First Fleet Headquarters and has a message for you. This is his order certificate.”

“No need, I’ll go to the lobby,” Xu Ke wanted to breathe some fresh air and let the smoke in his office dissipate.

In the lobby, a navy private was waiting. When he saw an unfamiliar headman approaching, he immediately stood at attention and saluted.

The guard introduced, “This is Headman Xu Ke.”

“Private, what can I do for you?” Xu Ke asked.

The messenger conveyed a written order from the People’s Commissar for the Navy, Ming Qiu: Xu Ke was to report to the First Fleet Headquarters immediately.

“Go back and report that I’ll be there right away,” Xu Ke dismissed the messenger, wondering to himself. Why did Ming Qiu send someone with a verbal message instead of just calling?

Despite his doubts, although he was now working for the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, his commission was still with the navy. Ming Qiu was his department head, no question about it.

He quickly went to the washroom to wash up. Back in his office, he was about to put on a cool cotton-linen blend shirt when he suddenly remembered that he was going to see a navy leader. He opened his wardrobe again and took out his tropical-style navy lieutenant’s uniform. He hadn’t worn his military uniform in a long time since being seconded to the Foreign Intelligence Bureau.

The First Fleet Headquarters was located in an ordinary barracks building at the Qijin base. A female master sergeant of the navy, wearing the insignia of the clerical branch, was waiting for him at the door. “Captain, I’ll take you up. Please follow me.”

To cultivate a spirit of unity, within the military, both Yuanlao and naturalized citizens addressed each other by rank or position in formal settings. Here, the distinction between headman and naturalized citizen did not exist.

Arriving at the commissar’s office, the master sergeant said, “Captain, you can go right in. The People’s Commissar is waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Xu Ke replied politely.

Facing the door, Xu Ke straightened his uniform and then knocked.

“Come in,” the owner of the office said.

“Reporting, Commissar. Navy Captain Xu Ke, reporting as ordered.”

Ming Qiu sat in his chair and looked up. He was wearing a tropical naval uniform, with nothing on it but the branch and rank insignia, looking clean and sharp.