Chapter 283: Nitrostarch

Ma Jia watched Panpan leave. He opened a drawer and took out an old-fashioned cassette tape recorder, pressing the stop button. Given that Lingao’s news media was rapidly “regressing to the old world,” he had to be extra cautious. Twisting the interviewee’s words and taking things out of context was a “fine tradition” of the news media.

Compared to audio files that could be easily edited, Lingao lacked the ability to edit original audio tapes, making them more effective as evidence.

“This won’t do,” he thought. What have we all become? If this continues, the Elder Council will be finished sooner or later.

“Master, the General Office just called, asking when you’ll be free. Director Xiao from the General Office wants to have a secure call with you,” the female clerk from the “Ma Office” of the Arbitration Court came in to report.

Ma Jia wondered if Xiao Zishan wanted to talk to him about the maid school issue. The matter had recently started to be debated on the internal forum. Through the Law Society, his information channels were quite good. He had sensed a dangerous flavor from the mixture of Shan Liang’s activities and his collusion with Cheng Yongxin.

“Reply to them that I’ll be in the office after six in the evening,” Ma Jia responded.

“Is this the complete interview recording?” Cheng Yongxin asked with a smile after listening to the entire recording.

“Yes, all of it. I think what he said was quite reasonable.”

Cheng Yongxin paid no attention to her evaluation. “This is excellent material.”

Panpan was puzzled. “It’s just interview material, what’s so good about it?”

“I’ll explain it to you later. For now, you don’t mind if I take this, do you?”

“Since you’re going to write these articles, of course I don’t mind.”

“OK, thanks, Panpan baby.”

Cheng Yongxin left Panpan’s office. Before going home, she went to see Sun Shangxiang.

The girl was now learning to be a text editor. As per Cheng Yongxin’s request, Panpan had arranged for her to spend half her time following her on field assignments, learning the work of a journalist like interviewing and writing reports, and the other half learning about publishing and editing.

Sun Shangxiang’s work was very busy, so she no longer had time to attend to her every need. However, for Cheng Yongxin, who was used to living alone, this was not a major inconvenience. Besides, a media person was far more useful to her than a maid.

After returning home, she called Jiang Shan.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve had too much work these past few days,” Jiang Shan said from the other end of the line. “We’re very busy right now.”

“It’s alright, you focus on your work. I won’t disturb you.”

Cheng Yongxin hung up the phone. A woman’s intuition told her that Jiang Shan seemed to be intentionally avoiding frequent contact with her.

Could it be that my recent actions have alerted him, and he wants to draw a clear line between us? she wondered, lost in thought.

When Li Yan entered the director’s office, he saw Jiang Shan leaning on his desk, his fingers buried in his increasingly long hair, seemingly pondering a difficult problem. Sunlight streamed through the thin window gauze, casting a long shadow of his somewhat gaunt figure on the wall. The room was filled with the rich aroma of coffee. Li Yan suddenly found his boss’s posture rather like that of an artist lost in a romantic fantasy. He found the thought amusing and coughed lightly.

“Oh, Old Li?” Jiang Shan lifted his face from his hands. He was unshaven, and his eyes were full of exhaustion. Li Yan guessed he had probably spent another sleepless night in the office. “Have a seat. I’ll have the secretary brew some hot coffee. Do you want sugar, or milk?”

“No need, just black coffee.” Li Yan pulled up a chair and sat down. “Director Jiang, General Manager Zhan just called. The remote exploration team has submitted the list of candidates for the Philippines. They want to know our opinion, mainly on the security situation. The Planning Office and the General Manufacturing Directorate have mentioned this several times. I think the bureau should give a clear statement.”

Jiang Shan rummaged through the file tray for a moment, found a report, and tossed it on the table. “Take a look at this first.”

“A telegram from Manila?”

“It was sent over from the Chemical Department’s Xu Yingjie Laboratory last night. It’s related to Lando’s work.”

Li Yan opened the report and read it quickly, occasionally murmuring a few words: “…Physical properties: white and light yellow powder… insoluble in water, partially soluble in ethanol… nitrogen content… explosive properties: 5 kg drop hammer test… detonation velocity… relative lead block expansion value 97 (picric acid is 100). The explosive force is slightly lower than the theoretical value, possibly due to the addition of excessive alkali during the washing process to improve stability…”

Li Yan put down the report and grabbed his coffee cup, gulping it down. His hands trembled with shock, and coffee spilled on his lapel, the desk, and the floor, but he didn’t notice.

“A small bottle of sample sent by Postman No. 7 last time,” Jiang Shan said, referring to the Southeast Asia Company merchant ship that served as a courier for the Foreign Intelligence Bureau’s missions to Manila. “Lando collected it from the artillery testing ground on the outskirts of Manila. He said in his telegram that they’ve been conducting several demolition tests there recently. I sent it for analysis, and you’ve seen the conclusion.”

“That guy actually produced high explosives—”

“Nitrostarch,” Jiang Shan said. “After seeing the analysis results, I made some inquiries with a few Elders from the military industry and chemical industry. It’s a favorite explosive of terrorists because the raw materials are relatively easy to obtain and it’s relatively safe. As ‘Heir,’ using a small amount of nitrostarch mixed with black powder to fill shells can significantly increase their power. He probably made it using laboratory methods, so the quantity won’t be large.”

“As for how much he can increase production under the current conditions, an important constraint is the raw materials, especially the production of nitric acid and starch. Regarding the latter, we must start with the current agriculture in the Philippines.”

“The Filipinos mostly grow rice. Is the starch content of that high?”

“Sweet potatoes. You forgot that the sweet potatoes in Fujian were introduced from Luzon during the Wanli era. The Spanish also brought corn and cassava. Starch can be extracted from these crops using simple methods. The problem now is that we don’t know much about the current agricultural situation and food production in the Philippines, and much of the intelligence is contradictory. If the colonial authorities want to expand the cultivation of starch crops, do they have sufficient conditions? How far can they go? Lando was just a soldier before, after all. We can’t expect him to have professional knowledge in this area.”

“So the exploration team needs experts in the agricultural field. As for the exploration activities, they must be carried out under the cover of Lando’s work.”

“Send a telegram to Lando. Tell him to investigate the nitrostarch matter as soon as possible, especially to find out if that Paul is organizing production on a large scale.”

The Tagalog maid stood before the living room door on the second floor of the villa, hesitating for a long while before reaching out to pull the rope hanging on the doorframe. The doorbell rang, and the continuous sound of the piano inside stopped.

The Count stood behind the door, his face expressionless, but when his gaze swept over the maid’s face, she couldn’t help but tremble.

The master did not like to be disturbed when he was playing the piano in the morning. “Mr. Sebastian is here,” she said timidly.

“Go to the bathroom downstairs and prepare hot water. Get the maids ready,” Weiss waved the maid away. The grand bathroom of the Count’s private residence had become famous. Its walls and floors were tiled with colored porcelain, and the huge white porcelain bathtub was astonishing; not to mention the special machine that could adjust the temperature and the gilded hot water showerhead that was more magnificent than any Roman fountain. Among the dignitaries of Manila, to be fortunate enough to be entertained by the Count and enjoy a fragrant bubble bath served by beautiful maids was enough for them to boast about in various social occasions for weeks. As for the pedantic doctrines of priests and doctors about bathing, they had long been blown away like a gust of wind. After all, this was an “Eastern-style enjoyment” unheard of even in the East.

Of course, for reasons of cleanliness and hygiene, Lando himself never used the grand bathroom. He had his own private bathroom in the garden. His subordinates and servants also had their own collective shower room to avoid contracting syphilis or other fashionable diseases from the dignitaries.

He closed the door again, went into the bedroom, pulled the bell cord, and then opened the cover of the speaking tube. “Mimi, inform the captain: the Esmeralda is to set sail in two hours. I am going to the Cavite shipyard with a Spanish official.”

“It will be ready, sir.”

Putting down the phone, Weiss returned to the living room and sat down again at the Florentine-made double-manual harpsichord. After his train of thought was interrupted by the maid, he could only repeatedly play the few familiar yet fragmented musical phrases. He would play for a while, then jot down a few notes on the staff paper he had drawn himself. Although the harpsichord was far less convenient to play than the piano, and the timbre was vastly different, Weiss had still spent a lot of money to buy it from the sacristy of a local church. He was replaying and transcribing. The works he had known and loved in the old world were his only recreation amidst the tense work of a spy.

Sebastian de Andrade had just received a new assignment. After Geronino Panio was dismissed and thrown into prison, the governor had unexpectedly ordered the public treasurer to also manage the royal shipyard. Everyone said this was just the governor giving the treasurer a little benefit by creating a redundant position—Mr. Andrade knew nothing about shipbuilding or ships. The primary task of this newly appointed “Excellency” was to supervise the shipyard to prevent fires and to urge the new shipyard director, Carluccio Panio, to complete the order for the new patrol fast boats as soon as possible. He, of course, did not know that the mastermind of the arson and assassination was currently standing on the foredeck of the Esmeralda with him, chatting and laughing.