Chapter 1261 - Ning Liujin
Ning Liujin was a hard worker from the lowest rungs of society—precisely the sort who could be "won over and relied upon." Before long, he caught the attention of the Vagabond overseer and was transferred to clean latrines and haul slop at Prisoner Camp Alpha. The work was far easier than hauling cargo on the docks, and he could eat at the camp kitchen, where the food was better than what the dock laborers received.
Prisoner Camp Alpha held the identified core members of the Zheng organization and their families, mostly captured in Anping. Men, women, old, and young lived in makeshift straw sheds and tents. Accustomed to luxury, they now cut sorry figures. Still, the Vagabonds treated them relatively well—no forced labor, better rations than ordinary prisoners, prompt medical care for the sick. Each person was even issued replacement clothes.
Ning Liujin worked in Camp Alpha for several days and grew familiar with its inhabitants. He was a local, and the Zheng organization drew most of its personnel from Zhangzhou and Quanzhou in Southern Fujian. In the old order, the gulf between them was vast: to the people in Camp Alpha, someone like Ning Liujin was less than an ant—not even worth acknowledging as human. But now that he could move freely and the Vagabonds seemed to trust him, Ning Liujin had acquired a certain status. Many called him "Officer Liu"—back when anyone bothering to call him "Liujin" would have been showing exceptional courtesy.
He went in and out of the prisoner camp by day and slept in the labor camp outside at night. That camp was full of locals and newly defected prisoners. They provided all manner of services for the Australians—everything from coolie labor to Minnan dialect translation and guide work. Because of his good performance, Ning Liujin gradually moved away from dirty, heavy work and into better assignments: transporting supplies for the kitchen and laundry. He worked happily, ate his fill, and was neither beaten nor scolded. This life, he decided, was not bad at all.
The guide labor camp had been hastily established, and its systems remained incomplete. Various departments constantly requisitioned personnel for tasks, so security was lax and movement casual. Anyone wearing a small wooden plaque could pass freely. The guards were from the White Horse Unit—they didn't speak the language and only maintained basic order. In a camp where foreign faces blurred into one another, clever men found considerable freedom of action.
One day, after delivering ingredients to Camp Alpha, Ning Liujin took up his carrying pole and wandered toward the seaside, hoping to take advantage of low tide for some beachcombing. There were several large reefs where shellfish accumulated when the tide receded; with luck, he might find stranded fish or shrimp.
As he picked his way among the rocks, a sharp pain exploded at the back of his skull, and everything went black.
After an unknown span of time, Ning Liujin regained consciousness.
Darkness surrounded him, broken only by faint, diffuse light filtering from above. He struggled to prop himself up.
It appeared to be a cave. The walls were dark, rough stone—wet and dripping. A thin glow seeped through a gap somewhere overhead.
He reached out and felt around. The ground beneath him was sand. He stilled himself and listened. Faintly, he could hear the rhythm of ocean waves.
A cave in the seaside reefs.
Ning Liujin had grown up by the sea and knew such caves well. He rose slowly to his feet and, groping with hands and feet in the weak light, quickly determined that the space was not large. He soon located the entrance—but it was blocked tight with stones.
Why knock me out and lock me in a cave?
He couldn't recall holding a grudge against anyone. In the Zheng organization, he wasn't even small fry—just a mote of dust. If the Australians wanted him dead or imprisoned, a single word from them would suffice. Why this elaborate secrecy?
As if in answer to his confusion, a beam of white light suddenly fell upon the dark sand. The stones at the entrance were being pulled away.
Only then did he realize the entrance stood over a man's height. Three or four men burst in. They were stripped to their shorts, their faces wrapped in towels. In the dim light, he couldn't make out their features—and had no time to look closely.
"What is your name?" the leader demanded in Minnan dialect.
"Ning... Liujin."
"Whom did you serve?"
Ning Liujin gave the name of his distant relative, but the man obviously didn't recognize it. He had to admit that he himself didn't know his superior—only that the ship owner always addressed someone with the surname Zheng.
There were many people named Zheng in the Zheng organization. This was as good as saying nothing.
"Dishonest bastard! Beat him!" The men surged forward.
"Don't hit me! I'm telling the truth!" Ning Liujin shouted, curling into a ball and hugging his head with both hands—years of experience with beatings had made him an expert at minimizing damage.
"Forget it. Don't hit him," the leader said. "He's probably just a ship hand. Even his ship owner is an ant."
He continued: "Listen, kid. Answer my questions honestly. Otherwise, I leave you in this cave—the tide rises in half an hour."
In a cave like this, being submerged by the tide meant drowning alive.
"I'll tell you everything! Everything!" Ning Liujin gasped.
"You serve the Vagabonds in Prisoner Camp Alpha?"
"Y-yes..."
A wave of dread washed over him. Judging by the tone, these men were from the Zheng faction. He had been working hard for the Australians—were they going to make an example of him? Terror surged, and he dropped to his knees, kowtowing frantically.
"Master, have mercy! I only worked for the Vagabonds because I had no choice—refuse, and I'd lose my head. I was afraid to die, and I craved a few full meals. I was wrong to serve them—but I've never done anything against the Zheng family..."
"Working for the Vagabonds is crime enough!" The leader's voice turned vicious. "You deserve to be weighted with stones and thrown into the sea..."
"Spare me! Spare me!" Ning Liujin was so terrified he nearly lost control of his bladder, kowtowing repeatedly.
Just as he was certain death had come for him, something clattered to the ground before his eyes. Ning Liujin looked—more than twenty silver dollars.
He had seen silver dollars before. The ship owner sometimes paid the sailors with those shiny silver discs. Of course, Ning Liujin had only been allowed to look. Even a second-tier boss on the ship earned just eight a month. Now here lay twenty-some, right in front of him.
He looked up at the leader in confusion.
"Twenty-five dollars," the man said. "Complete a few small tasks for me, and not only will your crimes be forgiven—these coins are yours."
"This lowly one dares not..." Ning Liujin's fear hadn't abated, but he understood clearly that whatever the Zheng men wanted was unlikely to be "small"—it would most likely get him killed. Still, the situation allowed no bargaining. "I await Master's orders."
"In Camp Alpha—have you seen a boy, about eight or nine years old?"
"There are many children of that age among the masters' families. Which one does Master mean?"
"His nickname is Fusong. Some call him Zheng Sen."
"Oh! You mean Young Master Fusong!" Ning Liujin nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes—there's a maid attending him."
"How do the Vagabonds treat him?"
"Very well..." The answer felt wrong the moment it left his lips. He hastened to add, "They gave him a separate tent—him and the maid. The food they cook for him every day is quite good; the kitchen prepares it specially..."
"Did anyone tell you who he is?"
"No. I didn't dare ask too many questions..."
"Later, you will bring one of our men into Camp Alpha to find Fusong."
Ning Liujin's legs went weak. He stammered, "This—Camp Alpha is heavily guarded. No one without a badge can enter. I'm afraid I would only endanger your people. Perhaps—"
With a metallic shing, someone drew a gleaming short blade. Ning Liujin swallowed the rest of his words.
"Don't worry," the leader said with a wolfish grin. "We know everything about Camp Alpha and the labor camp. We know exactly what you do, running in and out for the Vagabonds. Don't think that wooden plaque around your neck makes you some kind of official. If you die, the Vagabonds will treat it no differently than the death of an ant or a bug. There are five to ten thousand ants like you on Kinmen Island. We've killed several blind fools these past few days—do you think the Vagabonds even noticed? A stone around your neck, into the sea you go, feeding the Dragon King..."
"Yes, yes—I'm just a bug, an ant..." Sweat poured down Ning Liujin's face as he kowtowed again and again. "I'll find a way immediately!"
The men pulled a straw sack over his head and torso, then shoved him along. He felt the sea breeze on his skin, heard the cries of gulls, sensed soft sand beneath his feet—he was probably out on the beach.
After being driven a considerable distance, the sack was finally removed. He blinked. This was the very stretch where he had come beachcombing.
"When will you go to Camp Alpha?" the leader asked.
Ning Liujin had no choice but to answer. "Tonight. To deliver rice."
"Good. Come here before you make that delivery." The man's voice hardened. "Don't try anything clever. We know everything."
(End of Chapter)