Chapter 621 - Before the Battle (Part One)
News that the court was about to launch a punitive expedition against Lingao finally swept through the entire county by late May—though in truth, the local people had already learned from those close to the chiefs, from newspapers, bulletin boards, and street corner discussions. Everyone knew the officials in Guangdong couldn't stand seeing Lingao's people living in peace and had decided to drive out the Australians—supposedly because the Australians refused to give Guangdong officials one million taels of silver annually. So the government was launching an expedition, and they would massacre Lingao's people, sparing only the young women.
Newspapers were filled with articles about imperial troops killing innocents for credit, burning, killing, and raping—recording their "achievements." Every account included time and place. This puzzled Ma Qianzhu—where had Ding Ding obtained these materials?
"Some came from interviewing indigenous people, some from historical records, and some were written by the Propaganda Department..."
Ding Ding's material fabrication was carefully orchestrated. First, when publishing such reports, one fabricated story was mixed with every three true accounts—using truth to carry falsehood. Second, they worked closely with the Grand Library. Such fabricated materials were first sent to the Grand Library for review and verification, to avoid revealing flaws in the details.
Beyond this, Ding Ding had requested that the Civil Affairs People's Committee Personnel Department find scholars among the refugees they had taken in—specifically for writing work in the Propaganda Department. This time, some of the fabricated materials were created in the form of local scholars' private notes—after all, in the Ming, publishing or copying private notes required no license, and their authenticity was impossible to verify.
"You've fabricated so much—won't you scare the common people to death?" Ma Qianzhu was worried. He feared a mass evacuation—what if the people flooded into the county town or showed up at Hundred Fathoms Fort Gate requesting shelter? Would they let them in or not?
"Before this campaign, Lingao's people will inevitably play the role of bystanders. Getting them to eagerly fight to defend the Lingao regime is impossible," Ding Ding explained. "My idea is to remind them that defending Lingao means defending their 'home'—'protecting home and country' is always said together."
This news made the people very uneasy. Many secretly prepared to flee when the time came. But everyone could see the Australians' forces growing day by day. Every day, new troops singing songs marched past on the roads for target practice and drill. These soldiers wore brand-new uniforms, carried gleaming new muskets, and blue-gleaming double-wheeled gun carriages were pulled along. Gunfire on the range was deafening all day. Rumors spread that new forces had arrived from Australia. Some swore they had personally seen ships come to Bopu at night, with rows of soldiers and many cannons disembarking. And the Australians continued to appear everywhere: agricultural technicians still went to the countryside to guide summer harvest and planting; Li Mei still did business at Dongmen Market; the great iron ship in the harbor remained motionless. Many who had been panicking calmed down again—if the Australians aren't afraid, what are we afraid of?
Many secretly hoped the Australians could defeat the imperial army, so the peaceful days they had enjoyed for just a few years could continue. Clans, major families, and local strongmen worried that the Australians might not match the imperial army, feared war would implicate them, but dared not resist given the Australians' powerful military and their invincible cannons and firearms. Thus, whether conscripting laborers, requisitioning materials, or having villages organize militia for mobilization, there was little resistance.
The transmigrators were assembled for military training. Originally, training was held weekly and was quite rigorous. Recently, however, high-intensity training had tapered off, with only weekly target practice maintained to preserve gun-handling skills. But the enemy's impending invasion put the transmigrators' military role squarely on the agenda. When the proposal was raised, it drew pained groans:
All transmigrators eighteen and above, regardless of gender, would uniformly wake at 6 AM daily for morning exercises: first running, then formation and bayonet drill. Until 8 AM when regular work began.
Sunday rest was cancelled, replaced by half-day cross-country and long-march training.
"Sweat now or bleed later." He Ming was uncompromising in Parliament. "You've all been sitting at desks and your bellies have grown!"
Xiao Zishan offered reason: "Better fitness means improved physical functions overall. Everyone's been assigned personal secretaries after all."
Amid the groans, the proposal passed—everyone understood their lives were on the line.
The entire transmigrator body was formed into a "Transmigrator Battalion." They were divided into "squads" by department, each roughly platoon-sized. Larger squads, like Mechanical Squad, were subdivided into Squad One, Squad Two, and so on. Each squad elected a captain and vice-captain.
He Ming appointed Ying Yu as Battalion Commander. Three emergency assembly points were also designated. In emergencies, all transmigrators would concentrate at Hundred Fathoms, Bopu, and Gaoshan Ridge camps, awaiting orders to deploy.
"When they need us to fight, we're probably already done for..." Dugu Qiuhun was assigned to Tiandihui Squad One and was grumbling.
"Who's mumbling?!" Ying Yu had been a soldier for many years—though he had been out for years doing IT, his intimidating glare still carried plenty of force. "Battle, battle—always plan for the worst! Don't think having a few SKS rifles makes us invulnerable. From now on, it's wartime. Stay armed at all times, ready to fight!"
Ying Yu then inspected everyone's weapons and gear with thorough precision. He discovered many people's personal GLOCK 17s hadn't even been cleaned. Some women transmigrators' pistols still had their factory oil seals on. The SKS rifles, since they were used for weekly target practice and inspected for maintenance afterward, were actually in good condition.
"Incredible!" Ying Yu shook his head irritably. But he couldn't blame everyone—ordinary PRC civilians weren't even allowed to keep dogs—how would they know the importance of weapon maintenance? The fault lay with not emphasizing it enough when planning military training.
Uniforms, puttees, and boots all basically met standards. Everyone also carried a small bottle of Zhuge Field Powder and a packet of salt tablets.
"All units, move out!" Ying Yu ordered.
Excluding those in Sanya, those serving in military units, those posted abroad, and those on duty at various posts, over three hundred transmigrators set off in the Transmigrator Battalion.
Many transmigrators from administrative departments complained bitterly. Long office work had degraded their physical function—what little muscle they had built before the crossing had disappeared amid desk work. Transmigrators working in agricultural and industrial sectors were sturdy, dark-skinned, and didn't find it hard at all.
The transmigrators shouldered rifles and backpacks, wore military boots, and gasped for breath as they marched along the highway. Their equipment was much heavier than indigenous soldiers'. Indigenous soldiers at least wore light rattan helmets; transmigrators all had heavy steel helmets. To maintain "the chiefs'" dignity, all transmigrators had to look dignified and martial.
Accompanied by drums and fifes, several hundred pairs of military boots tramped on the road, raising clouds of dust. Indigenous people laboring in the paddies had become accustomed to such sights—recently, several units passed back and forth beating drums almost daily. Only a few indigenous people familiar with the transmigrators noticed the marchers were all transmigrators and felt surprised.
"Chests up, everyone—you look like a bunch of women!" Li Jun stood at the front of the formation, watching the "Finance Squad" soldiers. This platoon was entirely composed of financial, banking, and accounting personnel. Li Jun was the only one in the finance system who had been a soldier, so he became temporary sergeant responsible for leading the whole squad. "Everyone show some spirit! Military Songbook page five! The Army Fears No Long March!" Li Jun seemed to have reverted to his years as an Armed Police squad leader.
The Finance Squad warriors began belting out the song. Though the lyrics had been changed, many still unconsciously sang "The Red Army fears no long march."
The "Mechanical Squad" wouldn't be outdone and immediately started singing Bopu Song. This military anthem, adapted from La Marseillaise, was stirring in melody but somewhat awkward to sing.
"Why bother changing the lyrics? Just sing the PLA military anthem," Du Wen commented from the "Civil Affairs Squad."
But the Mechanical Squad was numerous, mostly brawny men with large lung capacity. They quickly drowned out the Finance Squad and other squads' singing. The soaring strains of "Bopu, Bopu" drifted over the highway.
After the Transmigrator Battalion reached Bopu, they didn't enter the camp or port but continued for another kilometer before taking a long rest. Though Bopu had a canteen, Ying Yu, commanding this training march, wouldn't let anyone leave the road—everyone drank cold water and ate dry rations.
The next leg went from Lingao Point toward the Maniao Peninsula.
"All squads maintain silence! No chatting, no wasting food. Those who need to relieve themselves, go now. Men on the left of the road, women on the right."
"Commander, the right side is also open ground. It's not convenient for the women. Could you have someone set up a latrine?" Dong Weiwei came over to ask while chewing dry rations.
"When you're in battle and need to defecate, will you set up a latrine first?" Ying Yu replied stone-faced. "The grass and bushes are high enough."
Dong Weiwei had been rebuffed, but she had worked in a government office and knew this wasn't the time for complaints. She retreated awkwardly, found a few companions, selected a spot with dense bushes by the roadside, cleared a space, placed a few gathered stones, and checked all around for gaps before completing a "simple latrine."
Perhaps because the battlefield atmosphere was already thick, no one wanted to be called out for "not knowing priorities" at this juncture. Besides some quiet complaining, the women made no further noise, each going to the roadside bushes to relieve themselves.
Ying Yu walked back and forth checking if anyone's gear had come loose, asking if anyone's equipment felt uncomfortable, and personally helping readjust everything.
After the rest, the Transmigrator Battalion resumed marching along the newly built road toward Maniao. The weather wasn't too hot. Though they had already walked over ten kilometers that morning, it hadn't exceeded everyone's physical limits—even the women in each squad kept up. Everyone watched the newly developed fields and migrant settlement points along the way, morale high. When they had landed on this soil three years ago, it had been desolate, with impoverished land and people. Bopu had been overgrown with weeds. Apart from a watchtower and the Inspector's building, there had hardly been any sign of human activity.
When they had arrived, they had no people, no grain. The rice, flour, and salt they ate were unloaded from ships. They drank river water with bleaching powder. They slept in tents. By day, they did heavy physical labor. By night, in the pitch-black darkness, they stood guard in a tottering watchtower, clutching rifles.
In less than three short years, this place had been transformed. And this transformation had been created by their own hands leading the indigenous people. Our Lingao regime finally looks like something.
These days, they had eliminated local tyrants, defeated pirates, controlled the county town, recruited refugees, won hearts, built the embryo of an early modern industrial society on a blank slate, trained hundreds of indigenous people, established a military and administrative apparatus... Thinking of all this, unprecedented pride welled up in everyone's hearts.
Whoever dares invade my dream—I'll smash them to pieces!
As if infected by this mood, someone started singing:
"Forward, forward, forward, Our army marches toward the sun, Treading the vast earth beneath our feet ..."
First a few people sang, then the entire column joined in. The resounding military anthem echoed over the highway, soaring to the clouds. Farmers working in the fields straightened up, watching this force roll past.
The transmigrators' marching drill raised morale among some. When indigenous soldiers, civilian personnel, and commune members knew the Australians wouldn't abandon them and flee, that at critical moments they too would take up arms to defend Lingao, they naturally felt united against the common enemy.
Of course, it also frightened some, thinking that if even the Australians were drilling with guns, who knew how powerful the imperial army must be. Some took the opportunity to go to the county town to stay with relatives—the county magistrate was still in the yamen, so it was still Great Ming territory. When the imperial army came, they wouldn't massacre the county town. For a time, rents and housing prices in the county town suddenly soared.
Most of the vacant property in Lingao county town belonged to the county yamen—which meant it effectively belonged to the transmigrator collective. Xiong Buyou was genuinely pleased that suddenly all the ramshackle buildings in the county had become hot properties—assets had been activated!
But Mei Wan's construction company wasn't pleased at all. The sudden surge in building repairs had made the local lime supply suddenly tight. The construction company originally had its own lime kilns. Besides gathering raw materials themselves, they also purchased some from the public: limestone and oyster shells. Now the sudden increased demand had driven up raw material prices sharply.
In response to his situation report, the Planning Institute immediately took action, announcing raw lime materials were "controlled." Wu De had also wanted to announce controls on grain circulation, but the Executive Committee felt that since there was no grain panic-buying situation, there was no need for grain controls. Too many material controls would only intensify the atmosphere of panic in the county.
But the Finance and Banking Department was growing nervous. Yi Fan's Cheka was copying sales figures daily from shops at Dongmen Market, monitoring price changes and sales volumes of various commodities—especially the three major livelihood goods: grain, fabric, and salt. Finance and Banking worried about a possible run on circulation vouchers.
Though circulation vouchers had established strong credit in Lingao, this was entirely built on the transmigrator collective's dominant presence. Once signs of instability appeared, circulation voucher credibility would take a hit. A concentrated run was very possible. Finance and Banking knew the circulation vouchers were actually over-issued. If a run occurred, consequences would be very serious. Yi Fan couldn't worry about auditing anymore—he focused all attention on market conditions.
From the data, no run on circulation vouchers had appeared yet. To ensure market stability, large quantities of rice were imported from Vietnam. The Planning Institute also prepared quantities of plundered goods, ready to throw onto the market immediately if panic buying or a run started.
But Finance and Banking's worries didn't materialize. Market conditions remained quite stable.
"But we're not out of danger yet," Cheng Dong pointed out at the finance work conference. Due to this mobilization, that month's circulation voucher issuance had increased 37%, mainly for capital construction investment, military expenses, and material mobilization. This expense was ongoing.
"The rate next month probably won't be as high, but the absolute number won't be small." Cheng Dong sighed. "Only when we mobilized did I realize how small our total economic volume really is."
"If we keep mobilizing like this for three or four months, inflation becomes inevitable." Wu Di pondered. "Foreign exchange expenditure has also been substantial recently."
To meet suddenly expanded military production, emergency imports of large quantities of pig iron, coal, and fabric had been arranged.
With the loss of the Guangzhou Station as their main silver source, foreign exchange reserves were falling sharply. The Finance and Banking system felt enormous pressure.
Their most profitable luxury goods, without the Guangzhou sales channel, could only pile up in warehouses. Bulk consumer goods were better off, since much was picked up by traveling merchants themselves.
"If we have to, temporarily reduce imports," Cheng Dong instructed. "We must keep some silver as emergency reserves. Who knows when the war will end."
"Isn't it supposed to be three to six months?"
"Six months—if we keep mobilizing like this, before the Ming collapses, we'll mobilize ourselves to death." Wu Di said grimly. "I think we should know when to stop."
"Some projects can't be stopped now. We have to push through." Cheng Dong looked at the temporarily added project budgets—all three-read passed in Parliament. "I need to talk to Si Kaide. Without the Guangzhou Station, we still need to find other channels to export goods. We need to earn more foreign exchange quickly."
(End of Chapter)