Chapter 1227 - Naturalization

Over the years, Li Siya had been the brains of their operation while Li Huamei served as its strong arm. Together they'd carved a formidable reputation across the southern seas, reaping rich harvests and accumulating considerable surplus with each passing voyage. Yet with an eye toward the future, prudence demanded they save more. From each expedition's profits, Li Huamei would deposit a portion in a Jewish bank in Macau under Li Siya's name, while delivering the remainder directly to the young miss.

Li Siya granted her five percent of each voyage's net profit—a generosity remarkable by the standards of the age. After all, Li Chun was ultimately just a household slave. Running errands and generating income for one's master was simply duty; any extra coin given was already gracious, and sharing profits was extraordinary favor.

Despite this dividend, aside from keeping some ready cash, most of it remained in the Macau bank—also managed by her milk-sister. Li Huamei had never cared much about money, always feeling that with the young miss handling finances, following her lead would never steer her wrong.

But lately her mindset had undergone a subtle shift. She had always felt she and her milk-sister were family, inseparable. Now, as she grew older—especially in those quiet moments when she secretly mourned passing youth—she realized with sudden clarity that she actually had nothing. Even Hangzhou belonged to her sister.

She needed to think about herself. The young miss wouldn't be conducting this Macau business forever. When she eventually departed, what would Li Huamei do? Keep following her like a shadow?

Such questions had troubled Li Chun lately. She'd even considered using this opportunity to join the transmigrators for real—completely severing herself from her milk-sister's control. Before, everyone around her had been Li family people; the ship had belonged to the Lis. But now blind Danes had delivered a windfall of money and sailors straight into her hands.

The spoils from the ship robbery—after deducting all expenses and outlays—totaled roughly twelve thousand pesos. The proceeds from shipping goods for the Australians weren't included; that portion couldn't count as piracy income.

By the customary rules, spoils from the Griffin capture were distributed fifty percent to the captain, twenty percent to the officers, with the rest split among the crew. She alone received six thousand pesos.

Beyond that sum, she'd also obtained Captain Weisheuey's private stash from the Griffin's captain's cabin: a bag of gold coins, a small pouch brimming with Ceylonese rubies, emeralds, and crystals. Miss Chun, who'd always prided herself on being upright and honorable, this time unhesitatingly pocketed everything.

With such capital, acquiring a new ship wouldn't be difficult—though every time she entertained the thought, she silently cursed herself for being cold and faithless. Yet the idea grew more stubborn with each passing day...

Whatever the future held, for now she'd settle down here. I suppose I've officially joined the transmigrators now, Li Huamei thought.

The matter of Li Huamei's formal application to "join" had been sitting on the Civil Affairs People's Committee's desk for quite some time. The reason they'd quoted three months was primarily that Liu Muzhou currently found the Executive Committee and Senate's naturalized citizen policies rather unclear. This was a matter of national policy—without a clear directive, he felt he shouldn't make the decision himself.

To date, the Executive Committee hadn't established clear norms for how to define and manage naturalization. Generally speaking, anyone who came to settle in Lingao was considered an "immigrant." Whether through organized immigration or spontaneous arrival, newcomers had to enter the quarantine camp for purification, then be assigned to various locations.

These people were all registered, then uniformly distributed to various communes. Combined with populations from villages across Hainan's counties that had already been incorporated into communes—their village consolidations and household divisions completed, basic grassroots organizations established—this formed the "directly-managed population" under Planning Commission control. A considerable proportion were "indentured servants." The so-called "naturalized citizens" referred to this directly-managed population. The Senate recruited soldiers from their ranks, hired workers and students, and selected cadres.

Naturalized citizens lived under very strict control. The Civil Affairs People's Committee, Police Headquarters, and Political Security Bureau had jointly established a rigorous household registration system prohibiting free migration. Any movement of permanent residents required accompanying household transfer procedures. Detailed tables tracked every naturalized citizen's specific whereabouts and movements.

Other villages and towns not incorporated into communes had populations that paid taxes to the Senate and provided labor, but weren't statistically counted as naturalized citizens. Currently the Civil Affairs People's Committee had only completed preliminary population surveys and land surveys for them, issuing new land deeds and household certificates. Beyond that, effective grassroots governance hadn't yet been established. The old rural self-governance patterns basically continued, with gentry and clans still enjoying considerable prestige and power. However, due to the establishment of the National Army system and severe crackdowns during the pacification campaigns—particularly the purging of many gentry and clan members under charges of "colluding with bandits"—these traditional rural forces had been considerably weakened.

The reason they weren't currently counted as naturalized citizens was purely due to insufficient cadres. Moreover, Hainan's territory was vast—completing this work couldn't happen overnight. The Civil Affairs People's Committee's current main energy was focused on immigrant settlement. Completing the "naturalization" of all Han, Miao, and acculturated Li populations across Hainan would still require two or three more years.

But becoming a naturalized citizen wasn't particularly difficult. Anyone who voluntarily joined the military, became a worker or employee at a Senate-affiliated industrial, commercial, or agricultural enterprise, or attended a National School was classified as a naturalized citizen. In essence, naturalized citizen was a status anyone could attain if they wished—provided they could firmly "serve the Senate and the people." No questions about background, gender, or age.

Though theoretically simple, in practice, determining who could be counted as naturalized citizens had always sparked debate in the Senate. For example: could landlords become naturalized citizens? According to the Senate's current rural work philosophy, entrepreneurial landlords developing intensive farming were encouraged and supported. Since they were encouraged, classifying them as naturalized citizens posed no obvious problem. But whether tenancy-based landlords could become naturalized citizens sparked major controversy.

Tenancy landlords were targets for "elimination," yet many currently supported the Senate actively, with many having sent their children to National Schools and factories. In Lingao alone, over a dozen such landlord families existed—particularly Xun Suji's father-in-law, the Liu family. Though they'd joined the Tiandehe and started intensive farming, they still owned considerable rental land with many tenants.

Such detailed complications made naturalized citizen status difficult to determine operationally. Currently Ma Jia was heading the drafting of a legal document on this subject, intended to thoroughly regularize the matter.

People like Li Huamei—possessing both property and professional skills—who wished to "naturalize" would generally be approved. But the Political Security Bureau hadn't given her a high political rating. Though clear evidence of her relationship with Li Siya hadn't been obtained, various signs suggested it wasn't unfounded. According to the Political Security Bureau's assessment, she had "historical issues and complex social connections."

So the matter had been left hanging. But there were quite a few Li Huamei fans among the Navy's young turks. Hearing that she wanted to "defect to freedom," they kept badgering Liu Muzhou to do something about it. Harassed beyond endurance, Liu Muzhou decided after much deliberation to report directly to the Executive Committee and let them decide—after all, Li Huamei was a name everyone on the Executive Committee had heard of.

Li Huamei didn't know the Australians were hotly debating her disposition internally. After distributing the loot, she went to the trading house to check for mail. Mail forwarding was one of the trading house's services—and of course the Political Security Bureau wouldn't pass up the opportunity to inspect letters.

The letter was from the young miss—naturally the letterhead bore a Macau merchant firm's name, and the contents merely reported on traded commodities. Back in her bedroom, she held the envelope's inner lining over a gas lamp flame. Soon several lines of writing appeared.

Li Siya wanted her to gather intelligence on the Australian Navy's recent movements. Beyond that, she wanted detailed intelligence on the "black-smoking three-masted fast ship"—including how many guns it carried, what size shells it fired, and what secret methods it employed for propulsion besides sails.

Li Huamei lit the letter with the gas lamp and watched it crumble to ash. She knew her sister had given her another difficult task. Of course, her sister had sent her to join the transmigrators essentially to gather Australian intelligence.

"The black-smoking three-masted ship"—the Lichun—she'd seen a few times in Bopu. But this time she'd returned to find that the Lichun was nowhere to be seen. Based on intelligence she'd previously gathered in Bopu, the Lichun was most likely now at Kaohsiung in Taiwan—a new port the Australians had built there.

Still, even without the ship here, she could extract useful information from her "fans." Besides, there were smaller "smoke-belching ships" in Bopu. With luck, she might even get to tour one—she'd once even boarded the Holy Ship, after all.

If she could find an acquaintance, she'd be seven or eight parts confident. Additionally, she wanted to use this opportunity to search for her elder sister's whereabouts—since the young miss said her sister was with the Australians, she was most likely in Lingao, the Australians' base. Quite possibly in Bairren City, not far from here.

To avoid complications, she hadn't told the Australians about searching for her sister Li Mo. She'd find her first and assess the situation. Since the servant girl Li Ying was the only African in Lingao—far too conspicuous—she was left at home. Actually, a 165-centimeter woman like herself was already eye-catching enough. Only because the Australians had recently brought in many northerners was she less noticeable. Li Huamei changed into an old female naturalized worker's uniform, donned a straw hat and straw sandals, hung her temporary resident permit around her neck, and shouldered a bamboo water bottle. She could barely pass for a newly-arrived Shandong lass.

(End of Chapter)