Chapter 1272: Evening Leisure

Locking away the confidential memorandum, he found a call from Huang Dashan waiting: the test results for yesterday's dead chick specimens were in.

"The culture results show no avian influenza or other pathogens." Huang Dashan's voice came through the phone. "Epidemic infection can essentially be ruled out."

"That's excellent news." Wu Nanhai had been brooding over this matter. Learning it wasn't a disease outbreak brought considerable relief. "However, I'd still like to inspect the brooding house personally. This mortality rate is abnormally high."

"Good idea. If you're still concerned, bring back a few more samples. Collect any secretions as well. I'll run another culture experiment."

"Understood." Wu Nanhai hung up and decided to visit the brooding house himself.

"Ashui, take me to the brooding house." Wu Nanhai crossed the courtyard and called out to Liu Ashui, who was pushing a handcart delivering thermos bottles to various offices. When not pulling the rickshaw, Liu Ashui worked odd jobs for the Agricultural Committee.

Liu Ashui quickly handed the cart to another worker and went to fetch the rickshaw. Glancing at the sky, he raised the canvas canopy.

Wu Nanhai rode the rickshaw all the way to the farm's brooding house. Recent daily reports indicated abnormal chick mortality—more than thirty percent above normal. Combined with the chicken plague outbreak not long before, the situation worried him deeply. Even in the old timeline with complete pharmaceutical resources, avian influenza was primarily handled through mass culling, let alone in the seventeenth century where equipment, vaccines, and medicines were scarce. Huang Dashan had promised to develop a specialized vaccine, but results remained elusive.

The only measures available were strengthening institutional management and implementing rigorous disinfection protocols to drive incidence rates as low as possible.

Yang Baogui had arrived ahead of him. When Wu Nanhai entered, Yang was removing his isolation gown. A naturalized trainee wearing a mask walked past carrying a box of materials. Wu Nanhai asked, "How does it look?"

"Similar to your estimate—avian influenza can be preliminarily ruled out." Yang Baogui stripped off his gloves and deposited both gloves and gown in a designated pocket. Through on-site facility inspection and examination of the dead chick corpses, he had determined the chicks had been crushed—likely due to negligence by breeding personnel. Temperatures in the chick room had dropped during the latter half of the night, causing the birds to crowd together for warmth.

"For safety's sake, I still collected a second sample set, all from chicks that died fresh this morning. Send them to the laboratory for another culture test."

Wu Nanhai opened the box and examined its contents: a sealed chick specimen in a large glass jar, along with several small bottles of unidentified liquids. He shook his head and closed the lid.

"The density here is too high; sooner or later there will be chicken plague." Yang Baogui watched his students pack the instrument case. "A high mortality rate is perfectly normal under these conditions. I just tested the air humidity—it's elevated. Pay more attention to that."

Wu Nanhai nodded. "You're right. Beyond dispersing the population, management must be tightened."

Leaving the brooding house, Wu Nanhai proceeded without pause to the farm's water conservancy project construction site. He summoned the on-site supervisor to arrange accommodations for the eight hundred slave laborers arriving in a few days.

"Food supply follows general migrant worker standards: rice until full, salted vegetables sufficient." Wu Nanhai laid out the terms. "Your responsibility is assigning tasks and pressing supervisors to complete them on schedule. Do not interfere with guard and supervisor management. Clear?"

These slaves had all been brought by Quark. Although Operation Engine was driving a steady influx of labor every day, construction rollout across the island meant Lingao's local workforce remained in short supply—especially for the punishing physical labor with particularly high mortality rates. Using immigrants who had endured long-distance transport, gone through purification, and required recuperation proved highly uneconomical.

These particular slaves had originally been purchased for Sanya development. Though high-intensity, high-risk operations came with grim mortality rates, Quark Poor—driven by huge profits—continued bringing in slaves, actually increasing their numbers. Sanya was now essentially saturated. After collective deliberation at the last Senate plenary meeting, the decision had been made to expand the scope of slave deployment. Application now extended to all heavy physical labor operations across Hainan Island, Taiwan, and beyond.

However, this opening was confined strictly to infrastructure project and mining coolie work. The Planning Commission's directive explicitly prohibited slave use in industrial and agricultural production. Except for temporary encampments, slaves were strictly forbidden from obtaining fixed residences near work sites or living intermixed with indigenous people and naturalized citizens. Slaves were barred from contact with indigenous commoners and naturalized citizens unrelated to their work. Any slave attempting to hide or escape during transport or labor would be executed on the spot without exception.

At the thought of this directive, Wu Nanhai felt a prickle of conscience, an involuntary ripple stirring deep within.

"Under every sleeper lies the corpse of an Irishman." Wu Nanhai gazed at the construction site in the deepening twilight and crossed himself.

"Master, where to now?" Liu Ashui asked.

"The Farm Teahouse."

The Farm Teahouse had once been the Nanhai Farm Café. Since becoming an independent accounting unit under the Agricultural Committee, its official registered name had become this bland designation. But everyone still habitually called it Nanhai Café.

By the artificial lake at the end of Agricultural Second Road, a row of buildings blazed with light. The nightlife of the Farm Teahouse had just entered its peak.

The teahouse was a multistory complex. The main building rose three floors. A protruding two-story podium extended over the water-facing side, featuring a large glass wall for viewing the lake's scenery. An open-air platform was built outside, where tables, chairs, and parasols were arranged for Senators' leisure when weather permitted.

On the building's opposite side stood a wooden single-story structure—the old teahouse site, now serving as the General Office's special supply food store and auxiliary facility rooms.

Not far from the teahouse, separated by a nursery, sat the farm's "Agritainment" facility—the Lotus Pavilion—also currently under teahouse management.

Lotus roots and other aquatic crops grew in the artificial lake, which also served as a duck-raising pond. Because Senators had complained of smelling duck droppings carried on the wind while relaxing on the terrace, the duck shed originally located on the lake's far side had been relocated.

Dense hedges and flowering trees surrounded the entire teahouse building, enclosing a small garden and ensuring privacy.

Tonight the Farm Teahouse glowed brightly as usual. Soft music drifted over on the evening breeze, mingling with the fragrance of tuberoses along the roadside—evoking a mood at once decadent and luxurious.

Wu Nanhai's rickshaw bore an access pass and cleared the gate post outside the garden smoothly, pulling directly to the main building's steps. A tall Spaniard wearing a European-style long coat descended slowly and bowed respectfully. In not quite fluent Chinese, he said: "Welcome, Your Excellency."

"Hello, Sancho." Wu Nanhai alighted from the vehicle and told Liu Ashui, "You may go—no need to wait." Then he produced a cut "Li Quan Special Limited Edition" cigar. Sancho immediately drew a lighter and lit it for him. He inhaled deeply, exhaled a smoke ring, and retrieved a card from his pocket.

"My membership card."

This Spaniard was one of several Spanish sailors captured at Bopu years before. After more than a year in the labor reform team, his background as a grape farmer's son from Galicia, Spain, had caught Wu Nanhai's attention. Following a failed attempt at growing grapes on Hainan Island—which once again proved unsuitable for viticulture—Sancho became a brewer in the fruit wine workshop Xue Ziliang had established, while concurrently serving as a bartender in the teahouse bar at night.

Sancho had been a poor wretch in Spain. His family had long since died or scattered, which was how he had ended up drifting to East Asia. Now possessing a stable life without the hellish existence at sea, he was naturally content to spend his years here.

In addition to bartending, Sancho was responsible for checking membership cards when greeting guests. As a dedicated leisure and entertainment venue for the Senate, the Farm Teahouse operated on a membership system. Temporarily, only Senators were accepted as members, with every Senator—whether present in Lingao or not—issued a card. Supplementary cards could be issued under each membership to naturalized citizens serving as life secretaries, adopted children, and apprentices in formal master-apprentice relationships over the age of sixteen.

Members could consume on credit at the Teahouse and affiliated special supply food store using their cards. Bills were sent monthly to the General Office for deduction from the Senator's personal account. Main cards permitted consumption of all items; supplementary cards allowed access only to certain services.

"Thank you." Sancho did not take the card. He bowed again, then stepped aside to lead the way.

Opening the tightly sealed leather-clad door, soft music spilled out. The hall was dimly lit, only glass-covered candlesticks flickering sporadically. The small dance floor at center had some electric lighting. The half-bright, half-dark atmosphere combined with gentle music to create a relaxed and intimate ambiance.

The main building's first floor served as the leisure and entertainment area. All seating consisted of high-backed booth seats. A bar offered various alcohols, tea, cocoa, and coffee. A dedicated smoking area supplied hookahs, pipe tobacco, and cigars. There was also a small dance floor equipped with a modest stage for performances and an orchestra pit—though these remained purely ornamental for now; they lacked instruments, and suitable musicians even more so. Music still came from audio equipment.

The second floor was arranged in private room format, where members could hold relatively private gatherings. Board games of all varieties were available: beyond traditional options like Ludo, Chinese Army Chess, playing cards, Chinese and International Chess, Go, Mahjong, Pai Gow, and dice, there were also imported board games—Legends of the Three Kingdoms, Dungeons & Dragons, Warhammer, and more. A large recreation room housed locally manufactured Snooker and Nine-ball billiard tables plus pinball machines. These had all been crafted by skilled artisans in Guangzhou through Zicheng Firm according to Lingao-provided designs—exquisite works of art in their own right.

(End of Chapter)