Chapter 499 - He Xin

"Yes, that's me..." He Xin hesitated, his voice rusty. For months he had been addressed only as "130080"; his own name sounded foreign to his ears.

"You want him, sir?" Fu Youdi chuckled. "This fellow’s just a pretty boy. Useless for labor."

Lin Baiguang ignored the warden and studied the former pirate chief.

He Xin stood nearly naked, clad only in a ragged loincloth. His body was a map of bruises, old and new—testaments to the efficacy of the rattan switch. He trembled under the Australian's scrutiny, his mind flashing back to the terrifying films shown during his interrogation.

Fu Youdi was notorious for his brutality—and, judging by his expanding waistline, his corruption. But Lin Baiguang wasn't here to audit the prison system; that was Lu Yifan's headache.

"Wash him off and get him some clothes," Lin ordered.

Back at the camp, Lin instructed Gao Di to supervise the bath. The standard "purification" protocol was unnecessary; the labor camp had already scrubbed He Xin of any defiance.

When He Xin emerged, clean and dressed in fresh clothes, he looked almost human again. To be plucked from hell and restored to the world of men felt like a fever dream.

Confusion gnawed at him. Why had he been saved? The Australian stranger wasn't one of the men he’d met in Lingao when buying grain for Grand Master Zhu.

The thought of Zhu Cailao brought a fresh wave of despair. The labor camp grapevine had long since confirmed the pirate lord’s annihilation. Was this about hidden treasure? He Xin felt his knees weaken. He had been interrogated for weeks about every scrap of the organization's assets. He knew nothing of secret hoards. If he disappointed this man, would he be sold off to the rumored "boy-brothels"?

Gao Di interrupted his spiraling panic with a tray of food.

It was standard fare from the quarantine camp mess—fish, shellfish, and meat. To He Xin, conditioned on coarse rice and watery vegetable soup, it was a banquet fit for an emperor. Doctors like Chen Sigen designed prison rations for survival, not pleasure.

Saliva and tears welled up in equal measure. Yet, months of harsh discipline held him back; he dared not touch the food without permission.

"Eat," Lin Baiguang said. "Don't worry. You belong to me now."

"Thank you, sir! Your kindness is vast as the sea—" He Xin fell to his knees to kowtow.

"No need for that." Lin stopped him. "Eat first. We'll talk after."

He Xin attacked the bowl. Food he would have once scorned as peasant slop now tasted divine. He wept as he ate, the flavors mingling with the bitterness of his ordeal.

"What are you crying for? A grown man shedding tears over a meal."

"I... I wouldn't dare..." He Xin wiped his eyes, stuffing rice into his mouth.

"Work hard for me, and I won't treat you poorly."

"Yes, yes, I will serve you faithfully..."

"If you fail me, I’ll send you back."

Terror seized him. He Xin choked on his rice and threw himself to the floor again. "I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare!"

"Get up and finish."

When He Xin had licked the bowl clean, Lin Baiguang spoke. "I hear you're a man of pleasure."

He Xin froze. "A man of pleasure" could mean many things. "I... I was foolish in the past," he stammered. "Fond of drink and dice..."

"What skills do you have? Tell me everything," Lin said, adopting a candid tone. "I'm going to Qiongshan on business, and I need someone with your particular talents."

Realization dawned on He Xin. The Australian needed a sycophant, a companion for social engagements. That was his specialty! Relief washed over him.

"I wouldn't presume to boast," he said, his face relaxing into an ingratiating smile, "but I am well-versed in kickball, backgammon, chess, cards, and word puzzles. I can sing, and I play the pipa passably well."

Lin nodded. "Do you know your way around the pleasure quarters and gambling dens?"

"Begging your pardon, sir," He Xin beamed, "before I joined Grand Master Zhu, I lived by my wits in the flower districts. High class or low, from Guangzhou to the coast, I know them all. I’m still on familiar terms with quite a few madams."

"Can you write?"

"Yes. I attended private school for a few years. I can draft letters and invitations."

"Good. From now on, you are my guest-retainer. We leave in a few days."

"Yes, Master! I will serve you with all my heart!" He Xin’s spirit soared. Leaving Lingao meant leaving Fu Youdi. He would have followed the devil himself to escape this place.

"From now on, address me as 'Master'."

"Yes, Master."

Gao Di produced a porcelain bottle of Sanli Tong—"Pain Disperser"—a new remedy from the Runshitang Pharmacy. Developed by Liu San from confiscated recipes, it was highly effective for the bruises and contusions common in He Xin’s recent life.

"Strip down. Brother Gao will apply the medicine."

"Thank you, Master." Tears flowed again, this time of gratitude.

After He Xin was treated and told to rest, Lin Baiguang and Gao Di stepped outside.

"Have Yang He assign someone to watch him," Lin said.

"Understood."

Lin Baiguang then visited the Finance Commission to withdraw three hundred taels of silver. Since Qiongshan lacked a Delong Bank branch, cash was necessary.

"Will that be enough?" asked Cheng Dong at the window.

"Plenty. The grain shop will generate its own operating funds soon enough."

"Very well. Just remember, Wanfeng Grain Shop is an Executive Committee enterprise. The paperwork must be precise."

"I know the drill."

Cheng Dong handed over a disbursement kit—vouchers, carbon paper, a ledger, and stamps, all locked in a small box. "Every voucher is numbered. Even voided ones must be retained for the Audit Commission."

"The stricter, the better," Lin said. "Protects us in the field from suspicion."

The next few days were a blur of bureaucratic errands—collecting equipment, signing forms, stamping receipts. It felt remarkably like his old life as a civil servant. Institutionalization, he mused, was just bureaucratization by another name.

Finally, dressed as a wealthy Ming merchant, Lin Baiguang set sail from Bopu with his entourage.

He stood on the deck, feeling a profound lightness. Unlike many transmigrators who viewed Lingao and its fortress as a sanctuary, Lin felt no attachment. Leaving felt less like exile and more like liberation. The sky seemed wider here.

Qiongzhou was just the beginning. He sensed, with a vague certainty, that he would not be returning to Lingao for a very long time.

(End of Chapter)