Chapter 216: The Seaside Villa

After bidding farewell to the treasurer, the red-flagged carriage crossed the garden square in front of the Governor’s Palace, passed several streets and houses, and, as instructed by the Count, exited through the south gate of the castle and headed for the seashore. The road under its wheels was, more than three hundred years later, Manila’s famous scenic avenue—Roxas Boulevard. But in this time, although the colonial authorities considered this road a vital military route connecting Manila to Cavite and the Cavite fortress, and allocated funds for its maintenance every year, the road condition was a mess. The so-called repairs consisted of nothing more than shoveling a few spades of dirt into the ruts and throwing a couple of bundles of firewood into the potholes.

Although the carriage swayed as it rolled over these obstacles, it did not slow down in the slightest. The leaf springs under the carriage creaked but withstood the test. The carriage drove on until it reached a small bay surrounded by sand dunes. Behind the bay was a small fishing village called Malate. Looking at the small boats beached on the sand and the cluster of shabby huts, there were only two brick and stone buildings near the village: a church and a two-story villa on the slope by the harbor, surrounded by a wooden fence. It had been built by a former municipal official of Manila for his frail daughter, so that she could breathe the beneficial sea air. After the little girl died and the official returned to his home country, the exquisite building fell into disrepair and ruin day by day. Weiss had bought it for a small sum.

Before the carriage had fully stopped, Weiss opened the door and jumped to the ground. Schlick, however, lingered on the rear step for a long time before slowly getting down.

Weiss had long known that this seemingly strong and sturdy black slave was actually as timid as a mouse. The wild rocking and bouncing of the speeding carriage had scared the soul out of him. Weiss left Schlick standing there in a daze and walked straight to his new residence. The garden and villa gates were wide open, and the courtyard was piled with bricks, tiles, and sand. The overgrown grass and vines that had once covered the stone courtyard walls had been cleared away. Carpenters and masons from the Parián were busy repairing the parts of the building that had been damaged by years of neglect and were repainting it according to the Count’s instructions.

The vegetation in the courtyard had been cleared. In the tropics, plants grow with incredible vigor. The moment human activity ceases, they quickly reclaim their territory. When he first bought the villa, the courtyard was so dense with vegetation that it was almost impossible to walk through.

Besides Mimi, who was supervising the craftsmen inside the house, there was a young man leading several local servants, unloading large and small wooden boxes from an oxcart and carrying them into the house. They were all Weiss’s luggage, a considerable portion of which was the fake Count’s various outfits used to fill out his wardrobe. These had been purchased in Macau at great expense, some of them spoils from the Manila galleons.

The young man wore a newly made long-sleeved livery, embroidered with the “coat of arms” of the Fannanuova family. His hair was cut unevenly, the short stubble standing on his head in a messy, jagged pattern, as if chewed by a dog. This was undoubtedly the result of a self-administered haircut in front of a mirror; no one locally would style their hair so short.

This was already a form of obedience to the “organization’s arrangements.” Originally, he had insisted on wearing his navy training uniform, but on the matter of his hair, the young man refused to compromise, continuing with this strange hairstyle.

Weiss knew that this young man, who desperately tried to show off and make sure everyone knew he was an “Australian,” was named Ji Mide. He was a naturalized citizen from a family of Chinese merchants residing in Tonkin. The prolonged civil war in Vietnam had dragged a considerable number of Chinese merchants in Hai Duong into bankruptcy, and Ji Mide’s father was one of them. Although they hadn’t lost everything and their lives, the family was left destitute, without even the money to return to their ancestral home in Fujian.

Through the introduction of an acquaintance, the father and son managed to get a job at the Da Chang trading post. Unlike his father, who only wanted to make a living, the exquisite Australian products sparked an almost fanatical yearning for “Australia” in the young man. This enthusiasm even moved Bei Kai, the head of the Tonkin station. He wrote a report to Lin’gao, recommending Ji Mide for admission to the Fang Cao Di school.

Due to his family’s business, Ji Mide had learned to read, write, and do accounts from a young age. Coupled with his intelligence and eagerness to learn, he obtained a Grade B diploma from Lin’gao, saving him a lot of effort compared to most of the native-born students from refugee backgrounds. Due to his age and specialty, he was enrolled in the commercial vocational class at Fang Cao Di. Nearing graduation, he was selected to participate in the first Luzon trade voyage of the Southeast Asia Company as an intern.

This internship, which everyone at Fang Cao Di envied, played a small but not insignificant joke on the young, talented business student—he contracted tropical typhus, and with complications, his life hung by a thread. By this time, the fleet was already preparing to return. Although he was out of danger thanks to the treatment of the ship’s doctor, a full recovery would take more than ten days or half a month.

The fleet could not wait any longer. The sailing fleet had to return as soon as possible before the monsoon season ended. However, no one could bear the immense risk of bringing a not-yet-fully-recovered infectious patient on board. Ocean-going ships were already hotbeds of disease, and even the strictest quarantine measures might not prevent an outbreak. In the end, it was decided to leave Ji Mide to recuperate at the Guangdong Guild Hall in the Parián. Ping Qiusheng left him a supply of medicine and silver, and gave an additional gift to the head of the merchant guild, asking him to find someone to look after Ji Mide until the next trading ship arrived to pick him up.

Before setting out, Weiss had learned from the intelligence department that he would “find a useful person” in Manila. After today’s near-disastrous meeting with the informant, Weiss felt that this energetic young man, who was “always ready to contribute to the cause of the Australian Song Dynasty” after his recovery, should indeed be put to some use. It was a waste to have him doing chores at home all day.

Weiss walked up the steps and paced along the veranda. The dark-skinned Chinese craftsmen went in and out of the open main door, carrying buckets of mortar and sawn timber into the house. He followed them inside. To increase the light inside, the windows on the first floor had been enlarged, and a full-height, open-to-the-roof space had been added. A hole was cut in the roof, ready for the installation of a glass skylight.

The newly installed Lin’gao-made shutters were all wide open, making the originally dim living room much brighter. Despite the good ventilation, a strong smell of lime, raw lacquer, and linseed oil made him frown. Mimi, however, didn’t mind. She bustled about the living room, tidying up, nimbly dodging falling plaster and paint. The fluttering skirt and the girl’s slender waist suddenly made Weiss catch a whiff of alluring youthful fragrance amidst the pungent smell. He waved his hand, signaling Mimi to accompany him on a tour. The entire villa and garden were a scene of busy construction, with the sounds of hammering walls, nailing wood, and the clamor of the craftsmen filling the air. His bedroom on the second floor was almost finished. The walls exuded the smell of freshly applied limewash, and the floor had been laid with Porto cork tiles imported from Macau. This type of flooring was durable, beautiful, and resilient, and was very popular among the Elders in Lin’gao.

The room was already furnished with the old furniture from the villa. Having been vacant for many years, it was somewhat damp and warped. Mimi had found a carpenter to restore it. The pieces were all sturdy, made from high-quality local wood.

As per Rando’s instructions, the single bed was already made with a rush mat from Lin’gao, a gauze mosquito net, and a bamboo-skin pillow, looking very cool and refreshing.

The thought of the Spaniards in Manila sleeping on mattresses made his whole body itch. He desperately wanted to take a bath.

However, the newly built bathroom was empty, with no fixtures, only a few reserved holes.

“The bathroom fixtures will be shipped from Macau later. And the pipes. But the people here don’t know how to install them…”

“Don’t worry, people will be sent with the ship to install them,” Rando said. “Is the drainage culvert ready?”

“The coolies won’t be able to come to work until the day after tomorrow. The local coolie supply is very tight right now, and the prices have gone up,” Mimi said, taking out a small notebook. “The foreman said everything is more expensive here. Even wood.”

Wood was practically everywhere in Manila, as long as you could find enough workers to cut it down and transport it. If even wood was getting more expensive, it could only mean that the cost of labor had risen dramatically.

“A new bathtub has been prepared for you in the downstairs washroom. As you instructed, it was bought from the Japanese village. A temporary toilet has been set up in the courtyard. As for soap, bath brushes, and toilet paper, they have all been purchased in the Parián. They will be delivered shortly.” The Southeast Asia Company is doing a good job! Rando thought. At least he didn’t have to write a special request for these most basic daily necessities.

“All the windows must be replaced. These ridiculous shells have to be replaced with glass.” The Filipinos liked to use mother-of-pearl shells in their windows to block the scorching sun, and in earthquake-prone Manila, replacing broken shell windowpanes was far cheaper than glass. Even the Spaniards were not immune to this custom. Not to mention that European glass that could survive the year-long, bumpy sea voyage to Manila intact was astronomically expensive.

“Buy the glass from Huang’s shop in the Parián. He’s the agent for the Southeast Asia Company’s glass panes. And have them send a glazier over. No, I don’t want you to go buy it. Have Ji Mide do it. Remember to take my card. And that idiot Schlick, tell him to stand guard at the main gate in full armor! Go on now, my sweetheart.”

Watching Mimi blush and close the door behind her, Weiss happily took off his stuffy boots. He didn’t lie down on the bed directly, but on a bamboo couch he had bought from a bamboo ware shop in the Parián. He didn’t want to enjoy the bed in his dirty, sweaty clothes just yet. With the habits he had developed on the battlefield, he quickly fell asleep amidst the noise.