Chapter 1066 - Refugees on the Island

Lu Yang was confident he still remembered basic algebra and geometry. If he could not find a topic of conversation, he would simply discuss mathematics—he was certain his level was sufficient to thoroughly humble Sun Yuanhua.

"This is..."

"Student Lu Yang," Lu Yang said respectfully. "I am a friend of Master Lu, here specifically to guide Sir around the island."

"Ah." Sun Yuanhua nodded. "Is this gentleman also from Guangdong?"

"I am from Ningxia."

Sun Yuanhua studied the young man before him. He had thought Lu Wenyuan quite young, but he had not expected this one to be younger still—no more than about twenty years old, no matter how one looked at him. With his delicate skin and tender complexion, were it not for his rather dark skin, he would truly resemble a wealthy young master.

The other person accompanying them was a Western priest—none other than Jean Nicholas.

This missionary was extremely busy on Qimu Island. Beyond comforting the people with doctrine, his other task was rooting out "heresy." Various folk religions flourished under many names in Shandong. The Civil Affairs Department and the Religious Affairs Office attached great importance to this matter: ordinary believers were unremarkable. The key was preventing organizers from infiltrating. The countermeasure adopted was twofold. First, they would identify and isolate such elements. The Political Security Bureau had quietly identified and developed an initial batch of informants, specifically watching for anyone spreading such rhetoric in the camps. Second, they prepared substitute faiths for refugees eager to find spiritual sustenance: Jean Nicholas was naturally one option, and a group of New Taoism students dispatched by Daoist Dai from Lingao was another.

Whether Catholicism or New Taoism, their targets for propagation were limited—the mission assigned by the Civil Affairs Committee was to compete for believers against the various folk religions, especially to attempt converting the grassroots organizers and minor leaders of folk religions among the refugees.

He Ying's instructions had employed the phrase "use all means." Thus, Jean Nicholas and the New Taoism students worked fanatically, launching a day-and-night race to eradicate "heresy."

Just a few days prior, Jean Nicholas had cracked a "heretical" organization implicated through a small incense-head. The incense-head and key activists had been isolated separately. As for the general believers: according to the principle of "whoever cracks the case benefits," the side that exposed it gained the right to preach to these believers.

Those who refused to convert would not be wasted either—they would neither be expelled nor burned to death. After all, Lingao had expended considerable costs on them. They were simply detained separately, and once enough were gathered, a ship would transport them to the mines in Sanya.

Jean Nicholas worked with such fervor that the Political Security Bureau's special agent had to process his "reports" every day. To ensure this work did not devolve into religious persecution mania, the Political Security Bureau had assigned a specially trained agent to be responsible for evaluating such reports.

Because of the constant "saving of souls," this priest's face was brimming with a contented smile. Though he wore only a thin wool robe, his entire being radiated vitality.

Upon seeing Sun Yuanhua, he warmly expressed his welcome, then praised Master Lu extravagantly as a "true servant of the Lord" and a "fearless warrior defending the faith."

Such high praise inevitably increased Sun Yuanhua's trust in Lu Wenyuan by several degrees. Keeping Jean Nicholas in Shandong had always been intended precisely for him to work on Sun Yuanhua.

Sun Yuanhua was a deeply devout believer who regarded Western missionaries as teachers and friends. Having such a person present was invaluable for reducing his hostility and increasing his sense of trust.

Jean Nicholas's appearance did indeed greatly soothe Sun Yuanhua's somewhat anxious heart. Observing his expression relax, Lu Yang led him up to the stockade walls.

Sun Yuanhua gazed around: he recognized at a glance that this was a stockade built using "Western methods." Though not immediately obvious, the protruding bastions protecting the stockade gate and the scattered towers of varying heights were all common features in the illustrations of Western fortifications brought by the priests.

He himself had built "Western-style platforms." During his time in Liaodong, he had once attempted to promote this fortification technology locally, so he was quite familiar with such designs.

Of course, Master Lu was also a believer with deep associations with missionaries, so knowing these things was hardly surprising.

The problem was that the stockade he observed, though modest in scale, was built with exceptional care and ingenious conception. It maximized the use of terrain, materials, and firepower. Sun Yuanhua had to admit that even if he were to design it himself, he could not achieve such a level.

For a local gentleman from Guangdong to be so proficient in the art of fortification was considerably strange.

In the late Ming Dynasty, scholar-officials were quite enthusiastic about military studies; people wrote books and propounded theories on firearms, military science, and fortification. But most of it was hearsay, picking up fragments from ancient military texts or Western military science brought by missionaries, then adding their own "whimsical ideas" to fabricate nonsense. Sun Yuanhua was a "professional"—he could tell at a glance that the layout here far exceeded what any ordinary amateur scholar-official could produce.

On the stockade walls, village braves wearing sheepskin vests and turned-up fur hats patrolled the ramparts. They appeared even more spirited than government soldiers: high morale, unfazed by the cold. Obviously, they were well-fed and warmly clad. What they held were not the whistle sticks or wooden spears commonly issued to village braves, but well-manufactured long spears with heads like triangular pyramids, dark and gleaming. Each man also wore a straight sword with a wooden scabbard at his waist.

Though they lacked armor, this appearance was already more impressive than most government soldiers in Dengzhou—good enough to serve as elite combat troops. If they possessed armor, employing them as selected vanguard family retainers would pose no difficulty.

He grasped the battlement and looked outward. About a hundred zhang—roughly 330 meters—from the stockade walls stood rows of long houses, surrounded by trenches and fences and dotted with a few wooden towers. It resembled a large military camp. However, the voices of adults and children drifting from that direction indicated that the inhabitants were all civilians.

Morning cooking smoke curled upward. Though not entirely clear, the camp was full of shadowy figures coming and going.

People were already emerging from the camp, organized in teams of ten, dispersing to various tasks across the island. Some shoveled snow, some collected catches along the beach, and others worked on building and repairs. Everything appeared orderly and methodical.

Sun Yuanhua had extensive experience in military affairs; one glance told him these workers had undergone training. Brilliant officers must be present on the island to drill them.

"What is that place?"

"It is the Refugee Camp," Lu Yang replied. "It houses common people who have been displaced."

Sun Yuanhua sighed for a long moment before saying: "Master Lu has taken in so many people. The cost must be considerable."

"It is considerable," Lu Yang acknowledged. "But this is a matter of saving lives. The cost is not calculated."

As they spoke, another team of village braves escorted a group of refugees hobbling toward the refugee camp from the willow fence entrance. Most were from villages and towns around Dengzhou. Having heard that Kong Youde and the others were slaughtering locals on a massive scale after capturing Dengzhou, and fearing wholesale retaliatory killings by the Liaodong population, the villages and towns had fled in waves, the young supporting the old and carrying the young.

It was said that Qimu Island—heavily defended and surrounded by sea on three sides—had become the first choice for refugees. After all, in this freezing weather, stumbling along with men, women, the elderly, and children without sufficient food made it impossible to travel far. News that Qimu Island had food, drink, shelter, and many village braves guarding it had already spread throughout the Dengzhou area through the efforts of intelligence agents. Large numbers of refugees had therefore been arriving every day to escape the rebels.

"These are all refugees fleeing the rebel army..." Lu Yang said. Jean Nicholas could not help but make the sign of the cross.

Though Lu Wenyuan had sent out many shelter teams composed of the Army and civil affairs personnel, bringing food and medicine and venturing dozens of li to welcome the refugees, the refugees nevertheless froze and starved on the road. Combined with bandit raids, they left trails of corpses along the way. Those who were finally taken in looked like hungry ghosts escaped from hell.

None of the three spoke. A long while passed before the refugees had finished entering the camp. Though each held different thoughts, witnessing this scene of profound suffering inevitably moved them.

While sighing with emotion, Sun Yuanhua could not suppress his surprise. There were five or six thousand people in this refugee camp, and refugees continued to be admitted every day. Qimu Island was merely a small island—how many people could it possibly hold?

Furthermore, what was Master Lu's motive for taking in so many people? Sun Yuanhua did not believe that Lu Wenyuan's large-scale acceptance of refugees was solely out of kindness—feeding such vast numbers every day was an enormous expense, not to mention the costs of heating and clothing in winter.

"Master Lu has a benevolent heart; it is the good fortune of the common people of Shandong!" Sun Yuanhua said. "It is just that with so many refugees gathering on the island, Master Lu can save them for a while, but not forever. How do you intend to handle them in the future?"

"We simply wait for the Shandong region to quiet down, then the refugees can naturally return to their hometowns..." Lu Yang replied. "It is just that after this great upheaval, even if they return safely, they will likely starve to death."

The Three Eastern Prefectures had always been places where people suffered greatly. After such tremendous turmoil, plowing oxen, donkeys, and mules had been killed or stolen, houses had been burned, and property had been completely lost. People returning to their villages with nothing would have no farm tools or draft animals, nor seeds or grain. Without government relief, they simply could not survive until the next harvest season.

"This matter..." Sun Yuanhua originally intended to say he would certainly devise a solution, but then he reflected on how he had lost Dengzhou and now found himself in an unpredictable situation with the rebel army only dozens of li away. What solution could he possibly offer?

Even if he were still the Governor of Dengzhou and Laizhou, relieving the people and distributing plowing oxen and seeds fell under the jurisdiction of the Provincial Administration Commission—he could not manage civilian affairs.

As for whether the Imperial Court could or would provide relief, that was another matter entirely.

Judging by the Court's current state, with fires everywhere and smoke rising on all sides, even if some relief were forthcoming, it would amount to a mere drop in the bucket.

(End of Chapter)