Chapter 1294 - Lanshantou

"What a wretched place." Though the day was sunny and windless, Wang Ruixiang could not suppress a shiver. Shandong winters were merciless. In another timeline, he had also been a Shandong man born and bred, yet now—bundled in a fur-lined overcoat reserved exclusively for Senators, wearing thermal underwear brought from the old timeline, with a velvet cap pulled over his head—the cold still cut through to his bones.

But maintaining the proper image of a Senator before the naturalized citizens demanded composure. Wang Ruixiang kept his head high and his chest out, projecting confidence before the assembled refugees and soldiers.

The last time he had felt this kind of embarrassment from bitter cold had been over a dozen years ago. He gazed down the hillside at the scene below. Thousands of refugees stood in neat columns of five, arrayed in three hollow square formations around several large cauldrons, eating in orderly fashion. Each refugee held a two-meter wooden staff and knelt on one knee. Only the squad leaders at the innermost positions moved about, running back and forth to collect wooden bowls of steaming relief gruel from the cooks and passing them one by one to the other four members of their squad. Once everyone had received their portion, the musicians stationed at the formation's center blew three notes on a bugle.

"Save the world and relieve the people to pacify all under heaven—the Senate is supreme!" Though the refugees shouted the words somewhat unevenly, and few likely grasped the full meaning, the simultaneous cry of thousands of voices still carried considerable power. After completing the pre-meal ceremony, the refugees set down the wooden sticks they used as walking aids, retrieved the relief cakes they had kept warm against their bodies, and devoured them along with the gruel.

The weeks of training before departure had clearly not been wasted. Only this sense of accomplishment—this feeling of changing the world—could make him believe that abandoning everything in the old timeline for this transmigration had been worthwhile.

Destruction and construction alike offered the greatest sense of fulfillment. And what he was doing was precisely this: destroying the old world and building a new one in its place.

In the old timeline, before various high-tech warming products had appeared, his younger self had also stood on this land in winter, wrapped in thick, bloated padded clothing. The circumstances now were vastly different. Back then, he had been thoroughly disgusted with his current status as a desperate military otaku. He had felt great regret and nostalgia for the past, fantasizing more than once about how he would change his life if only he could return to that age. Though this transmigration had not unfolded exactly as expected, after much hesitation, he had steeled his resolve: "If I cannot change my own past, then I will change the future—my own, and this world's." With this thoroughly chuunibyou conviction, he had set foot firmly upon this road whose destination remained uncertain.

Wang Ruixiang reached up and rubbed his forehead, banishing these old memories from his eyes. He glanced at his watch, scanned the desolate wilderness, then turned and led the Special Reconnaissance Team down the hillside.

At the base of the hill, several soldiers of the Northbound Detachment on escort duty were preparing their own meal. The army issued tastier, higher-grade field rations to every soldier, but they could also claim an extra bowl of relief gruel. Trekking long distances through the wilderness in such brutal cold consumed far more calories than the standard field rations could replenish. High-calorie cold-weather rations were reserved for Senators and the Special Reconnaissance Team alone.

"Chief!" Upon seeing a Senator approach, the soldiers clustered around the pot immediately snapped to attention and saluted. Wang Ruixiang returned the salute and waved for them to continue. He ate from the same pot as the Special Reconnaissance Team. Their gruel also simmered in the pot, distinguished by the addition of dried vegetable leaves; their field rations were the cold-weather version, containing relatively more fat and minced meat.

Eaten as-is, the flavor was decidedly bland. However, the chili sauce Wang Ruixiang had brought with him elevated his mess to an entirely different realm compared to the large-pot rice served to the refugees.

After the group finished eating, Wang Ruixiang checked his watch. The time was right. He signaled his companions to resume the march. The musicians returned to the column's side and blew the assembly call. The refugees picked up their wooden sticks one by one and rose. Having drained the remaining hot water from their bowls, they shook them dry, tucked them into the pouches at their waists, and began marking time to the short drumbeats, organizing themselves into formation. The squad leaders returned from the innermost positions to the far right of each unit. After a few more bugle calls, the refugees slowly pivoted from their quadrilateral formations back into the five-abreast marching column.

The entire refugee train had transformed into a column half a li long. Several soldiers bearing flags walked at the very front. Cavalrymen of the Northbound Detachment serving as scouts rode ahead to a distance of one li.

"Forward march!" At the command, after a few bugle calls, the rhythm of the drums shifted. The entire column began its slow, steady advance, continuing this long and grueling journey.

"This is the fourth day. At this rate, we should arrive on schedule tomorrow." Wang Ruixiang returned to his position ahead of the central baggage train, calculating silently.

The route Wang Ruixiang was leading them on this time differed from the path they had taken before the Dengzhou Turmoil, from Juyang River to Laizhou Bay. Though the war had subsided, all the temporary supply points established along that earlier road had been abandoned. Expecting refugees to carry all their provisions on foot was simply impractical; the grain consumed en route would also be far too great. Instead, they would go to sea from Lanshantou.

To be precise, they would embark from Foshou Bay at Lanshantou. This location corresponded to the Lanshan Port area of the old timeline. The waters of Lanshan Port were relatively wide, with excellent depth conditions—the natural depth at the front of the 20,000-ton berth reached ten meters. Lanshan Port was ice-free. During the Ming Dynasty, it fell under the jurisdiction of Rizhao County, Juzhou, Qingzhou Prefecture.

This was the embarkation point Wang Ruixiang had selected after personally leading multiple reconnaissance missions. In addition to the hydrological data obtained from old-timeline archives, he had discovered that this location was sparsely populated during the Ming Dynasty. Moreover, it lay a full forty kilometers from the nearest Ming garrison at Andong Guard. The entire defensive force consisted of one beacon tower and five beacon guards. Barring a major alarm, the hungry, freezing soldiers of Andong Guard would not venture this far. Neither ships docking nor refugee movements would attract attention.

Furthermore, the overland distance from Yishui City to this location was only 128 kilometers, and they could march roughly along what would become Provincial Highways 335 and 222. If the refugees maintained an average pace of thirty kilometers per day, they could reach Foshou Bay in at most five days. This allowed the provisions prepared for the journey to be significantly reduced.

According to Song-era military manuals, a soldier carrying six dou could sustain himself for ten days. This was also the maximum ration a soldier could carry while marching. But that calculation applied to able-bodied young men—not a refugee column comprising men, women, the elderly, and children, all weakened by prolonged malnutrition.

Given the refugees' physical condition, carrying ten days' rations was simply impossible. Wang Ruixiang would not have dared to try even if it were: if left unsupervised, many would devour three days' worth of food on the first day. Some would choke themselves to death on dry rations consumed without water. Others would seize the opportunity to flee with their provisions—this had happened numerous times before.

Thus, Wang Ruixiang had adopted a centralized approach: the baggage train carried all provisions. Wheelbarrows were used for transport, pushed and pulled by able-bodied refugees rotating daily. The baggage train was guarded by the escort team. This ensured secure distribution of grain without requiring additional manpower.

The refugees marched in squads of five. Everyone except small children carried a wooden staff—useful for conserving energy during long treks and for self-defense if necessary. During the march, able-bodied men positioned themselves on the outside, with the baggage train and women and children flanked on the inside. Small children and the infirm rode wheelbarrows in the baggage train. Anyone who fell ill or lagged behind was taken in by the baggage train as well.

Every refugee column dispatched to Foshou Bay was assigned a guard team composed of a mixed force from the Northbound Detachment and the Yunshenguan militia. The Yunshenguan militia maintained order within the column and protected the baggage train. The Northbound Detachment provided scout cavalry for forward reconnaissance and employed force to disperse hostile elements when necessary.

Leading several thousand people through more than a hundred kilometers of disaster-ravaged territory was no simple task. Famine had rendered most settlements along the route abandoned. Starving vagrants and roving bandits roamed everywhere. Along the way, let alone replenishing grain, even firewood and drinking water were difficult to procure. The weather was bitterly cold. By the fourth day, dozens had already been lost—which was actually considered a relatively successful operation. There had been occasions when blizzards or other natural disasters struck, and it was not uncommon for hundreds to die or go missing at once.

At noon on the fifth day, the refugee column finally reached Foshou Bay. Here stood only a small fishing village and a beacon tower. Ever since Wang Ruixiang and the Daoist Priest had selected this location as the refugee embarkation port, the Northbound Detachment had dispatched a unit to assume direct control. Most of the fishing village's inhabitants had already been sent to Jeju Island, leaving only a handful of fishermen familiar with the local waters and tides to serve as pilots.

The beacon tower had likewise been taken over by the Northbound Detachment. The five beacon guards and their families had become prisoners. Wang Ruixiang did not trouble them unduly—he merely required that they continue their duties "as usual every day." Of course, they would need to be very tactful and "not see" anything happening in Foshou Bay.

When the beacon tower of Foshou Bay came into view in the distance, the young men of the guard team let out a muted cheer. To facilitate the temporary transfer of refugees, Foshou Bay had been developed with supporting infrastructure beyond the pier built for embarkation: a simple camp centered on the fishing village, with numerous shacks, capable of housing up to two thousand refugees and three hundred guards and laborers. A basic storehouse had also been constructed, with capacity for one hundred thousand person-portions of relief rations.

Ships arriving to collect refugees came fully loaded with relief provisions. After offloading locally, they took on refugees. The arriving grain was transported back by the returning guard team. Sometimes a specialized transport column had to be dispatched to Foshou Bay just to collect supplies. The round-trip grain consumption was substantial. Were it not for the urgent need to acquire more population, such operations would be quite uneconomical.