Chapter 1143 - Approaching Storm
Weather in the Taiwan Strait was forever capricious.
At the Kaohsiung Port weather station, the barometer needle crept steadily downward. The meteorologist studied the curve traced on the recording paper, his expression grim.
"Typhoon's coming," he muttered.
Wei Bachi received the warning within minutes. He ordered immediate activation of the emergency plan.
"Notify all construction sites to halt work and secure equipment!"
"Ships in port must reinforce moorings or proceed to protected anchorage!"
"All refugee camps must shore up housing and evacuate residents from low-lying areas!"
Orders radiated outward via telephone and runners. The entire city of Kaohsiung began moving like a precision machine.
At the Customs Clock Tower, Zhong Lishi was already directing workers to batten down the structure.
"Take down the scaffolding! Quickly now! The wind is coming!" Zhong Lishi shouted.
Westerly and Cleadia pitched in, their movements anxious. They had never experienced a typhoon, but reading the tension on every face, they understood something formidable was approaching.
"Get back to your room and don't come out!" Zhong Lishi ordered. "Close the shutters tight!"
"Yes, Dr. Zhong!" Westerly grabbed his sister's hand and they ran toward the dormitory.
Dark clouds rolled in, devouring the sky. The wind began to howl, kicking sand and dust into spiraling columns. On the distant horizon, the sea had turned a menacing gray, waves hurling themselves against the breakwater with thunderous fury.
Huygens stood by the trading house window, watching the changing sky with evident unease.
"Is this the 'typhoon' of the East?" he asked.
"Yes, Mr. Huygens," a servant replied. "Please step away from the window. The wind will grow much stronger soon."
Before long, enormous raindrops began to fall, hammering the roof with a cacophony of snare-drum cracks. The wind intensified, shrieking like the wails of tormented spirits.
In the refugee camps, people huddled in reinforced longhouses, trembling. The roar outside was so ferocious they feared the roofs might tear away at any moment.
Wei Bachi sat in the command center at City Hall, receiving a torrent of reports from every sector.
"Section A of the breakwater is taking wave damage!"
"The roof of Warehouse No. 3 has been blown off!"
"Flooding in the refugee camp command center!"
"Stay calm! Handle it according to plan!" Wei Bachi commanded with steady authority. "Personnel safety takes priority!"
The power of nature inspired awe. Even Australian infrastructure, which seemed so indomitable, appeared fragile before the typhoon's onslaught.
But Wei Bachi wasn't worried. He understood that typhoons were trials Kaohsiung would have to face again and again. So long as core personnel and equipment remained safe, any losses could be rebuilt.
The storm raged throughout the night.
By dawn the following day, wind and rain began to slacken. The sun emerged from behind tattered clouds, casting light upon a landscape of debris.
Wei Bachi strode out of City Hall to survey the damage.
Roadside trees had been uprooted or snapped like twigs. Billboards and bamboo sheds lay shattered. Many rooftops in the residential quarter gaped with holes.
Yet the main structures stood firm. City Hall, the Customs House, and the trading house remained unscathed.
"Report all losses immediately!" Wei Bachi commanded.
Zhong Lishi also emerged from the Customs House. His first destination was the clock tower—fortunately, aside from some collapsed scaffolding, the main structure and the clock itself were undamaged.
"Thank heaven," he breathed in relief.
Then his thoughts turned to the two Dutch children. He hurried to their room.
Westerly and Cleadia were huddled in a corner, their faces pale. The terrifying cacophony of the storm had kept them awake through the night.
"Are you all right?" Zhong Lishi asked, concern etched on his face.
"We... we're fine," Westerly managed, voice still trembling. "It's just... we've never seen such a terrifying storm."
"It's passed now." Zhong Lishi laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're safe."
Cleadia gazed at the wreckage beyond the window. "Is the city... destroyed?"
"No—just some surface damage." Zhong Lishi smiled confidently. "We'll have it repaired in no time."
And indeed, recovery operations commenced immediately. Under Wei Bachi's direction, soldiers, workers, and refugees were all mobilized—clearing debris, patching roofs, draining floodwaters.
Steam cranes roared back to life, hoisting fallen trees and shattered beams.
Huygens witnessed this efficient disaster response with something approaching disbelief. In Europe, a calamity of this magnitude would have paralyzed a city for weeks, even months. Yet here, order was returning at astonishing speed.
"Their organizational capacity is terrifying," Huygens wrote in his diary that evening.
In Anping, Li Siya had also weathered the typhoon. The Zheng family fleet suffered losses in the storm, and Zheng Zhilong was too busy managing the damage to spare thought for her proposals.
Li Siya gazed out at the calm sea left in the storm's wake, calculating her next move. The typhoon had bought the Australians time—but it had also exposed certain vulnerabilities.
She resolved to travel to Kaohsiung in person and observe the post-disaster situation. Perhaps, amid the chaos, she would find an opportunity to infiltrate.
(End of Chapter)