Chapter 104: Mobilizing the Masses (Part 4)

While they were busy, they spotted a ship on the distant horizon cutting through the waves—its distinctive silhouette was immediately recognized by the lookout as the transmigrators' Type-67 multipurpose landing craft. This ship had not moved since entering port—to save fuel.

Salt workers on the beach panicked, dropping tools and running helter-skelter toward the village. In these times, the seas were not peaceful. Every ship from the sea could be an enemy. Zhang Xingjiao, well-informed, reassured everyone at the village entrance with the Tan father and son—this was the short-haired Masters' ship, no need to worry.

The travelers were delighted—two-plus months, and this was the first time seeing their own ship at sea. The Committee dispatching this rarely used vessel showed how seriously they viewed this mission—no one wanted to work at an unimportant post.

Xi Yazhou waved his arm. "Come on—everyone to the beach to welcome the Navy!"

"Navy!" Everyone laughed, feeling proud. Was not the most advanced navy in this timespace theirs?

Just then, the landing craft let out a stirring long whistle. Before the horn faded, it emerged from the long wave-line, heading shoreward toward them. Everyone without tasks walked toward the beach, followed by dozens of curious children and villagers.

The landing craft drew too much water to approach closely. Xi Yazhou turned on his walkie-talkie; both sides communicated—learning the ship brought not just the requested grain, cloth, and weapons but also living supplies and construction materials.

"Find us a berth with 1.2–1.5 meters draft for beaching and unloading," Chen Haiyang called on the radio.

"Okay—wait a moment!"

Hainan Island's west coast was primarily rocky shoreline. Besides tidal-mud beaches inside bays, small rocky harbors were everywhere. They quickly found a small bay nearby—the water area was cramped, barely fitting two or three fishing boats.

The landing craft, engines running slow, eased into the bay. This pre-crossing refurbished craft now looked beautiful and imposing. A new cargo crane had been installed. Both bridge gun-positions each had an SKS-wielding Military Group member—Type 80 helmets, orange life jackets—looking dashing, rather like PLA soldiers from the other timespace. If only each had a machine gun, Xi Yazhou daydreamed. Seeing the welcoming crowd, the sailors beamed and waved to shore.

The engine roared one last time, exhaled a long breath, and stopped. The landing craft beached and lowered its ramp. Off stepped a hulking man—round-faced, big-eyed, tall and robust. The children following behind were stunned into silence—190 cm, 110 kg was practically a giant to people of that era. This giant was the Military Group's Chen Haiyang—wearing his navy-blue training uniform, looking vigorous.

Chen Haiyang led four military members to Xi Yazhou, formed a line, and saluted. "Reporting: Navy Wuzhishan Boat Captain Chen Haiyang. Ordered to escort cargo delivery. Awaiting your orders."

"Immediately organize unloading!" Xi Yazhou returned the salute, smiling. "Show the masses what you've brought!"

"Yes! Immediately organizing unloading."

Xi Yazhou shook hands with Chen Haiyang's group in thanks, then opened the Committee's written documents. Reading, he laughed. "Excellent! Excellent! Really solving problems."

He excitedly told Zhang Xingjiao, "Call Uncle Tan to gather villagers for unloading!"

As villagers slowly gathered, Xi Yazhou climbed onto the ship's bridge, standing high. Hundreds of eyes fixed on him.

"Friends!" His face beaming, he waved his document-holding hand. "Bairren Fortress has sent food and clothing. Temporarily allocated: 1,000 jin of rice! This rice costs nothing—entirely distributed to everyone!"

The crowd first fell into disbelieving silence, then erupted in cheers. Zhang Xingjiao had gathered young men through the Tan family last night, teaching them to cheer on signal. Some elderly and women, gazing at the ship full of grain, wept. Cheers gradually softened—replaced by grateful tears.

Xi Yazhou continued as the noise subsided. "Also fifty bolts of cloth—all for making clothes! That'll need the village women's help! The cloth isn't much yet—finished clothes might only be one per family. But more will come—"

Before Zhang Xingjiao finished translating, another cheer erupted.

"Friends!" Xi Yazhou put away the document. "Our livelihood depends on labor, not just relief. Bairren Fortress now needs large quantities of sea salt. Everyone work hard at production. Whatever salt there is, they'll take!"

"We've got plenty of strength—as much salt as you want!" Led by the Tan family and people nearby, the crowd was whipped into fervent enthusiasm.

Zhang Xingjiao, seeing the heated atmosphere, per Chief Xi's arrangement, quickly stepped forward. "Friends! I'm Zhang Xingjiao—also a local native. I've read some books. I used to have my house and land robbed by Landlord Gou. Finally even my ancestral grave was desecrated. Bullied until I couldn't survive..." At the painful parts, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve; the crowd below also sighed and wept. "Landlord Gou destroyed my family—left everyone without clothes or food." He wiped his eyes, calling hoarsely, "The short-haired Masters came—giving us food and clothing, helping us produce. If anyone comes to bother us again, to take our benefits—"

"Goes without saying!" the young men roared. "If that bastard Landlord Gou comes again—smash his dog-head!"

The elderly looked somewhat frightened, but with the atmosphere already stoked, they dared not openly dampen spirits.

"Right!" Xi Yazhou shouted excitedly. "This salt field is court-approved—your ancestors built it with their own sweat, bucket by bucket, spoon by spoon. What right does Landlord Gou have to seize and profit? Everyone must protect the salt, protect the grain, protect our homes, protect our labor's fruits!"

The crowd's emotions ran extremely high. Du Wen, standing aside, smiled excitedly at first, then frowned. In this speech, Xi Yazhou had left some wiggle room—not saying the salt field belonged to the people. Per Committee thinking, this salt field would eventually become transmigrator property.

Amid the crowd's clamor, Xi Yazhou descended from the ship's bridge, satisfied. Bundled weapons had been unloaded to the ground—all captured at the Bairren Rapids battle, now refurbished. Besides grain and cloth, the landing craft brought red bricks, cement, and some simple furniture from the Bopu Wood Processing Factory's latest products—tables, chairs, and benches in modern styles. Machinery Group members, temporarily idle, had made these using the factory's woodworking equipment.

The work-team camp was also renovated. With building materials and guidance from construction specialists aboard, everyone worked together. Soon they had: a blockhouse-style building, several reasonably comfortable tile-roofed houses, and a new antenna tower for the 15-watt radio. Outside the wall, Xi Yazhou had the construction group build a screen wall to serve as a propaganda bulletin board.

That day, under Xi Yazhou's direction, a Village Committee was established, with a subordinate Production Team and Militia. Per Du Wen's suggestion, a Women's Group was also formed—Hainan rural women all did field labor, renowned for heavy, hard work. Gender-segregation rules thus had little market here.

The militia was led by Tan Chengqing as captain. Zhang Xingjiao wrote a petition to the county—explaining that frequent pirate harassment made establishing a militia for village defense necessary. Such legal procedures were still required. The militia comprised sixty able-bodied men. The salt workers had some martial arts basics. With weapons, everyone's enthusiasm was high—mornings and evenings were set aside for training. Blades flew and spears thrust—quite lively. Xi Yazhou watched from the side, thinking: these skills had some power in individual fights but would probably fail in actual formation combat. During the Bairren Rapids battle, he had observed Huang Family Village militia's attack: fierce momentum, quite organized. If such a force attacked, undisciplined militia would likely collapse immediately.

Xi Yazhou had experience training recruits—but these militia used swords and spears. Hastily applying firearms-era training might not be appropriate.

"If we could equip them with firearms!" Xi Yazhou had returned to the command post after watching their drill. Chen Haiyang's men remained at camp—waiting for salt workers to gather thirty tons of salt. Once ready, the salt and Tan Guihuang would cross to Leizhou to open sales channels.

"Firearms aren't available yet for a while." Chen Haiyang thought. "We can start with formation and physical training—those work for any era's army."

"Political reliability first; military strength follows!" Du Wen suddenly appeared from somewhere. She was now fully devoted to organizing the Women's Group, spending every day with Xiao Qin, learning the local dialect. "Our organization is still superficial."

This made everyone pause. True—salt workers' enthusiasm had been stirred, but they could not yet be called politically reliable—only circumstantially allied with the transmigrators. Their ideological firmness was still questionable.

Xi Yazhou pondered. "Currently, our first priority is building organization. The Village Committee and militia are established, but we haven't truly taken root yet. We must cultivate activists among the salt workers—develop a group of people whose fates are intertwined with ours. Only then have we truly taken root. We must gradually promote cadres from among the salt workers."

Everyone agreed. Du Wen said, "I want to run a training class—call it 'Ma'ao Peasant Training Institute.' Train some salt workers, cultivate backbone strength. I'll be the main lecturer. What do you think?"

This idea matched Wang Luobin's thinking. But Xi Yazhou did not want Du Wen lecturing political theory. He said, "Good idea! 'Training Institute' is a good name. Wang Engineer also wants to run technical training. You two work together. Start with literacy and learning Mandarin! Everyone should dedicate some time to teaching."

(End of Chapter)