Chapter 1472 - Nitro-Starch
Majia watched Panpan leave, then opened his drawer, withdrew an old-style cassette tape recorder, and pressed the stop button. Given that Lingao's news media was rapidly "reverting to the old timeline," he had to be extra careful—distorting interviewees' words and taking things out of context were, after all, "fine traditions" of the news media.
Compared to audio files that could be easily edited, Lingao lacked the ability to splice original cassette tapes, making them more effective as evidence.
This won't do, he thought. Look at what we've become. If this continues, the Senate will be doomed sooner or later.
"Chief, the General Office just called to ask when you're free. Director Xiao from the General Office wants to have a secure phone call with you." A female clerk from the Arbitration Court's "Ma Office" came in to report.
Majia wondered if Xiao Zishan wanted to discuss the maidservant school. This matter had recently started to cause a stir on the internal forums. With the Jurisprudence Society as his channel, he was quite well-informed. The activities of Shan Liang and others, their collusion with Cheng Yongxin—these things mixed together made him smell danger.
"Reply to them that I'll be in the office after six o'clock this evening," Majia responded.
"Is that the entire interview recording?" Cheng Yongxin asked with a smile after listening to the whole tape.
"Yes, all of it. I think what he said was quite fair."
Cheng Yongxin didn't care about her evaluation. "This is excellent material."
Panpan was puzzled. "It's just interview raw material. How is it excellent?"
"I'll explain it to you later. You don't mind if I take this now, do you?"
"Since you're writing the articles, of course I don't mind."
"OK, thanks, Panpan darling."
Cheng Yongxin left Panpan's office. Before heading home, she went to see Sun Shangxiang—this girl was now learning copy editing work. According to Cheng Yongxin's arrangement, Panpan had her spend half her time following Panpan on field assignments, learning reporter tasks like interviewing and writing reports, and the other half learning publishing and editing work.
Sun Shangxiang's work was very busy now, so naturally she no longer had time to serve Cheng Yongxin in every detail. But for Cheng Yongxin, who was accustomed to living alone, this wasn't too difficult. Moreover, a media person was far more useful to her than a maidservant.
Returning home, she called Jiang Shan.
"I'm really sorry, there's been too much work these past few days," Jiang Shan said on the other end of the line. "We're getting busy now."
"It doesn't matter. Focus on your work first. I won't disturb you."
Cheng Yongxin put down the receiver. With a woman's intuition, she sensed that Jiang Shan seemed to be intentionally avoiding overly frequent contact with her.
Could her recent activities have aroused his vigilance, causing him to draw a line with her? She fell into deep thought.
When Li Yan walked into the Director's office, he found Jiang Shan leaning his elbows on the desk, fingers buried in his growing hair, seemingly pondering some difficult problem. Sunlight spilled through the thin window screen onto his somewhat gaunt figure, casting an elongated shadow on the wall. The room was filled with the aroma of coffee. Li Yan suddenly thought his boss looked rather like some artist intoxicated in romantic fantasies. He found this thought quite amusing and coughed lightly.
"Oh, Old Li?" Jiang Shan lifted his face from his palms—unshaven, eyes full of weariness. Li Yan guessed he had probably spent another sleepless night in the office. "Sit, sit. I'll ask the secretary to brew some fresh coffee. Sugar or milk?"
"No need, just black." Li Yan pulled out a chair and sat down. "Bureau Chief Jiang, President Zhan just called. The remote exploration team has submitted the list of candidates for the Philippines and wants to ask our opinion, mainly regarding the security situation. The Planning Academy and the Manufacturing Consulate have mentioned this several times. I think the Bureau should give a clear statement."
Jiang Shan rummaged through the document tray for a moment, found a report, and tossed it on the desk. "Read this first."
"A telegram from Manila?"
"Sent by Xu Yingjie's lab at the Ministry of Chemical Industry last night. It has something to do with Lando's work."
Li Yan opened the report and read rapidly, occasionally murmuring a few words aloud: "...Physical properties: white and pale yellow powder... insoluble in water, partially soluble in ethanol... nitrogen content... explosive properties: 5kg drop hammer test... detonation velocity... relative lead block expansion value 97 (picric acid = 100). The brisance is slightly lower than the theoretical value, possibly due to excessive alkali added during the boiling and washing process to improve stability..."
Li Yan set down the report, picked up the coffee cup, and gulped it down. Shock caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably, spilling coffee on his clothes, the desk, and the floor—but he didn't notice at all.
"The small bottle of sample brought by 'Postman No. 7' last time," Jiang Shan used this term to refer to the Southeast Asian Company merchant ship that had accepted an External Intelligence Bureau mission to go to Manila while serving as a courier, "was collected by Lando from the artillery testing ground on the outskirts of Manila. He said in his telegram that there had been several blasting tests there recently. I sent it for appraisal, and you've seen the conclusion."
"That guy actually produced high explosives—"
"Nitro-starch," Jiang Shan said. "After seeing the appraisal results, I asked a few transmigrators in military industry and chemical industry in a small circle. This is an explosive preferred by terrorists because the raw materials are relatively easy to obtain and the safety is also relatively good. For Black/Hale, using a small amount of nitro-starch mixed with black powder to fill shells can significantly increase the power. He must have made it using laboratory methods; the quantity won't be large."
"As for how much he can increase production under existing conditions, a key constraint is raw materials, especially the output of nitric acid and starch. Regarding the latter, we must start with the current state of agriculture in the Philippines."
"Filipinos mostly grow rice. Does that stuff have high starch content?"
"Sweet potatoes. You forgot that Fujian's sweet potatoes were introduced from Luzon during the Wanli era. The Spaniards also brought corn and cassava. These crops can all be used to extract starch by simple means. The problem now is that we don't know much about the current agricultural status and grain production in the Philippines, and much of the intelligence is contradictory. If the colonial authorities want to expand the planting of starch crops, do they have the capacity? How far can they go? After all, Lando was just a soldier before; we can't expect him to have professional knowledge in this area."
"So the exploration team needs experts in the agricultural field. And exploration activities must be carried out under the cover of Lando's work."
"Send a telegram to Lando. Ask him to find out about the nitro-starch as soon as possible, especially to verify if that Paul is organizing production on any scale."
The Tagalog maid stood before the living room door on the second floor of the villa for a good while before she reached out to pull the rope hanging from the doorframe. The moment the doorbell rang, the continuous piano music inside stopped.
The Count stood behind the door, his face expressionless, but when his gaze swept over the maid's face, she couldn't help but shudder. The master disliked being disturbed when playing the piano in the morning.
"Mr. Sebastian is here," she said tremblingly.
"Go to the bathroom downstairs and arrange for hot water. Have the maidservants get ready." Weiss waved the maid away.
The Count's private grand bathroom had already gained a reputation: walls and floors paved with colored tiles, a massive white porcelain bathtub—all jaw-dropping. Not to mention the special machine that could adjust the temperature and the gold-plated hot water showerhead more magnificent than Roman fountains. Among Manila's dignitaries, being fortunate enough to be entertained by the Count and enjoy a fragrant wave bath served by beautiful maidservants was enough to brag about in various social circles for weeks. As for the pedantic theories of priests and doctors about bathing, these had long been treated as breezes blowing past the ears—after all, this was an "Oriental enjoyment" unheard of even in the Orient itself.
Of course, out of hygiene considerations, Lando himself never used that large bathroom; he had a private bathroom in the garden. As for his subordinates and servants, they also enjoyed a dedicated collective shower room—to avoid catching any "noble epidemics" like syphilis from the dignitaries.
He closed the door again, walked into the bedroom, pulled the bell rope, and then opened the cover of the speaking tube: "Mimi, tell the captain: the Esmeralda will depart in two hours. I'm going to the Cavite Shipyard, and a Spanish official will be accompanying me."
"It will be ready, sir."
Putting down the tube, Weiss returned to the living room and sat back before the Florentine-made double-manual harpsichord. With his train of thought interrupted by the maid, he had to repeatedly play those few familiar yet fragmented phrases. After playing for a while, he noted down a few notes on the staff paper he had drawn himself. Though the harpsichord was far less smooth to play than a piano and the timbre gap was even larger, Weiss had still spent a great deal of money to purchase it from a local church's sacristy. Replaying and notating those works he was familiar with and loved from the old world was his only leisure outside of intense espionage work.
Sebastian de Andrade had received a new assignment. After Geronimo Pano was dismissed and imprisoned, the Governor had surprisingly ordered the Public Treasurer to concurrently manage the Royal Shipyard. Everyone said this was just the Governor creating a redundant position to give this financial officer some benefit—Mr. Andrade knew absolutely nothing about shipbuilding or ships. The primary task of this newly appointed "Excellency" was to supervise the shipyard to ensure it was not disturbed by fire, and at the same time urge the new shipyard director, Carucio Pano, to complete the order for the new patrol clippers as soon as possible.
He naturally had no idea that the mastermind behind the arson and assassination plot was currently standing beside him on the foredeck of the Esmeralda, chatting and laughing.
(End of Chapter)