Chapter 515 - Pan Pan's Interview

Ruan Xiaowu immediately received the first formal assignment of his naval career: he was appointed captain of Special-Duty Boat Yu Te 04. Yu Te 04 was a 70-ton-class, two-masted Guangdong junk, originally brought in by remnants of Zhu Cailao's fleet when they defected. After conversion, it had been designated a special-duty boat.

The Navy had acquired an assortment of seventeenth-century Chinese sailing vessels of various sizes in this timeline—especially after absorbing Zhu Cailao's remnants and sundry other petty pirates and stragglers. The Lingao Navy's fleet had grown considerably. Smaller-tonnage vessels, after targeted modifications, were all classed as "special-duty boats" and assigned miscellaneous support tasks—including fishing, which was one of the Naval Forces Division's important duties.

"Report to your ship immediately and handle the handover. You have three days' leave—starting tomorrow. After your leave, go to the shipyard to take on equipment, personnel, and ammunition. Prepare to sail." Chen Haiyang issued the orders directly.

Ruan Xiaowu walked out of the cabin in a daze, clutching his document folder, his head floating in the clouds. He unconsciously touched the officer's shoulder boards he had just put on, then the short sword at his waist, then peered at the commission in his hand. Joy he could not suppress welled up from his heart. He was now a naval officer—and captain of a naval warship. Compared to the rank of ensign, the position of captain carried even more weight in his mind.

He had to tell his brothers right away so they could celebrate properly. Ruan Xiaowu realized it had been months since he and his brothers had gathered. All three were in the Navy, but in different units; apart from the occasional chance encounter at the docks, they almost never had time to meet.

But the moment he stepped out, he ran into the busty foreign woman who had been snapping pictures earlier. Speaking in her peculiar new-speak accent, she demanded that he strike a few more poses for photographs. Ruan Xiaowu obliged with several stiff postures. The woman seemed dissatisfied and kept telling him to "relax," to "act natural."

At last the photographs were done, and the foreign woman asked to "interview" him. Ruan Xiaowu did not know what an interview was. She explained that she would just ask him a few questions. Ruan Xiaowu replied at once that answering questions would require a superior's approval—otherwise, he might inadvertently leak secrets.

"There won't be any leaks. I'm a reporter for the Lingao Times. I have authorization to conduct interviews." As she spoke, she produced a slip of paper from her bodice.

Ruan Xiaowu hesitated before accepting the warm slip—a letter of introduction from the Lingao Times, bearing an official stamp. On the back was Chen Haiyang's notation: "Approved," and a blue naval anchor seal.

"All right. Go ahead and ask," Ruan Xiaowu said.

"Don't be nervous—relax," Pan Pan said, pulling out a notebook. "I'm just going to ask about everyday topics."

The interview lasted thirty minutes and was filled with questions that struck Ruan Xiaowu as baffling—what he liked to eat, what his favorite color was, how he felt about killing as a soldier… He could not fathom what use any of this was to a newspaper. When the questions turned to his background and how he had joined the Navy, Ruan Xiaowu's eyes reddened.

Ruan Xiaowu's family tragedy was nothing unusual for Chinese people of any era—even for someone from the twenty-first century, such stories had occurred generation after generation, times beyond count. Yet for someone like Pan Pan, the impact remained profound.

"…If the Australian chiefs hadn't saved us brothers, our whole family would have died—our bodies eaten by wild dogs," Ruan Xiaowu said with emotion. "They didn't just save our lives—they gave us food, drink, and clothes, taught us to read and write. And now I've become a naval officer. This kind of kindness—even if I died to repay it, I could never repay it."

Pan Pan's expression was complex. She did not think Ruan Xiaowu was being insincere; such heartfelt gratitude could not be feigned. Yet deep down, she harbored doubts about this kind of gratitude. In her view, such devotion could undermine a person's capacity for independent thought, turning him into a blind follower of the transmigrated collective.

Although Pan Pan had followed Ding Ding to this era without hesitation—for love and adventure—she had after all grown up in a Western society that prized individual freedom. The concept had seeped into her very bones. Regarding the collective's various actions—and including some of Ding Ding's own remarks and behavior from time to time—she often felt a dangerous premonition: the new world these modern people were preparing to build by cheating their way to power was not what she had imagined.

"Haven't you ever thought about what you truly want to do with your life?" Pan Pan asked.

Ruan Xiaowu looked at her strangely; the question seemed odd. If you asked what he wanted to do, of course being a great landlord and having people wait on him hand and foot would be best. But for a child from a poor fishing family, not starving in childhood or drowning in adulthood was already the height of good fortune. To have reached his present circumstances was practically like being reborn—what else could he "truly want to do"? If he had to name something, it would be to climb the ranks—lieutenant, captain, and upward—and take a wife and have children to carry on the family line. But he was too embarrassed to say that aloud.

"Nothing for now," he said.

After the interview, Pan Pan snapped a few more photographs. She also wanted to take a group portrait of the three Ruan brothers together. Ruan Xiaowu said that would have to wait until their gathering that evening—at the moment, even he did not know where his brothers were.

Ruan Xiaowu returned to Linyun 7. The other cadets and sailors who had heard his promotion news all came to offer congratulations. Fellow Course-Two cadets gazed enviously at the ensign's shoulder boards and the officer's short sword at his side. Qian Changshui also offered many cordial words.

"You've really made something of yourself now, lad," Qian Changshui said. "You haven't formally left the ship yet. Let's add dishes to the midday meal to celebrate—after all, you came out of Linyun 7."

So at noon the entire crew received extra rum and fried fish fillets. In the captain's cabin on the poop deck, the captain hosted a farewell luncheon for all cadets in Ruan Xiaowu's honor. The table was set with proper utensils; each diner had a pretentiously fine white-cloth napkin draped at the neck. An orderly with a white towel over his wrist waited on them.

"There's one downside to being an officer: from now on, you pay for your own meals," Qian Changshui said, tucking his napkin back into his collar for the tenth time after it had slipped. Because it was a farewell banquet, Qian Changshui had paid out of his own pocket and instructed the ship's purser to buy extra provisions from the naval mess at Bopu.

Officers had to pay mess fees. If you wanted better food at the base, the naval mess could oblige within its means—but everything cost money. In the past, Ruan Xiaowu, like any sailor, had eaten rations out of a tin lunch box, enjoying the free supply-system mess. In terms of content, the fare already far surpassed that enjoyed by most commoners of the era, and even most of the Australians' civilian workforce. Yet compared to officers' mess, the gap was considerable.

Cadets and sailors mainly ate rice and dry stir-fried rice noodles, with side dishes of fish, shrimp, shellfish, and a bit of vegetables or pickles, plus a big pot of tofu-and-kelp soup or the like. The captain's table was different. Seafood still predominated, but preparations were more refined and variety greater. This time, Qian Changshui had even instructed the orderly to purchase chicken.

There was also fruit wine on the table—the sort drunk by the chiefs—recently made available in small quantities for sale at the officers' mess. Ruan Xiaowu sampled a glass and found it sweet and sour, easy to drink, though not strongly alcoholic. Dishes were served family-style but portioned by the orderly onto each diner's plate before eating.

Because this was a banquet, lunch was a bit more lavish than usual: three dishes and a soup, with shrimp-and-mussel fried rice noodles in tomato sauce as the main course. Tea was served at the end.

Ruan Xiaowu sipped the bitter, fragrant tea following the naval etiquette he had learned in officer-cadet training. In his heart, he felt fortunate beyond measure to have crossed into the ranks of commissioned officers—such a life had been beyond his wildest dreams.

Qian Changshui and the other cadets heaped many compliments on him at the table. At this stage, indigenous naval officers were still few; the value of an ensign was very high—especially since his first assignment was as a ship's captain. Qian Changshui, who had never thought the scrawny cadet anything special, now felt rather proud of him—after all, the boy had come up through his own ship.

When the socializing was over, Ruan Xiaowu took his leave, went ashore to the barracks, set down his belongings, and went out to find his brothers.

There were three Ruan brothers: Ruan Xiaowu, Ruan Xiao'er, and Ruan Xiaoqi. After Ruan Xiao'er joined the Navy, his gunnery skills stood out; in the end, he did not ship out but became a coastal-fortification artilleryman stationed at Bopu's Beacon Tower, where he was now a gun-crew chief.

As for Ruan Xiaoqi, his gunnery was no worse than either brother's—but he was younger, only thirteen. After joining the Navy, he was promptly enrolled in the officer-cadet program at the Military-Political School—though in the junior division. In addition to military training, emphasis was placed on academic subjects, and the curriculum was far longer than the regular program.

Ruan Xiaowu went to considerable trouble to locate both brothers. Ruan Xiao'er happened to be off duty that evening and could take a few hours' leave; Ruan Xiaoqi had also obtained leave from the Military-Political School.

The three brothers walked together into a Co-op restaurant in East Gate Market. Their months of service had endowed them with a trim, crisp military bearing, and the moment they stepped inside, many eyes were drawn to them. A petty officer, a naval ensign, and a naval cadet—three brothers, three different sets of shoulder boards and sleeve stripes gleaming together, plus Ruan Xiaowu's officer's short sword: they became the focus of attention. Under the scrutiny of the crowd, the three Ruan brothers felt excitement, pride, and a touch of self-consciousness. One of the waiters, reading the room, ushered them into a private room.

(End of Chapter)