Chapter 2272: Captive Camp
Yi Haoran followed Chang Qingyun to the Sanheui parade ground, where he observed Australian barbed wire fences erected around the perimeter in multiple layers. Several wooden watchtowers had also been constructed, with lanterns suspended from them and armed sentries keeping watch on top. Yi Haoran sighed quietly to himself.
Guard towers and abatis stood at the entrance, but the inspection was not rigorous. Chang Qingyun had a waist pass for entry and exit; flashing it at the sentry while explaining, "This is an accountant friend of mine from the city, come to collect a debt in the camp," was enough. The sentry didn't even interrogate them—just nodded and let them through.
Lax defenses! Yi Haoran thought to himself. There may be an opportunity here.
Entering the camp was like entering a small town. The original barracks had been allocated as dormitories for the captives. Even on the parade ground itself, longhouses had been erected using timber and straw to shelter prisoners. These structures were built from salvaged materials collected during the post-battle cleanup of Wuzhou's ruins—crude, but with substantial capacity.
The longhouses and barracks were divided into groups of varying sizes, separated by bamboo fences taller than a man, their tops sharpened and hardened by fire. Each group had its own gate and watchtower, connected by small paths. The whole layout was arranged in orderly fashion.
From the entrance ran a straight main road paved with river sand. On both sides stood bamboo fence walls and group gates. A signboard hung at each gate, displaying the group number and the count of those housed within in large characters.
Guard posts stood by each gate, with several able-bodied men sitting or standing about, all wearing the old government troop uniforms—only the ink characters on the front and back patches had been changed from "Brave" to "Security." These men carried iron rulers or wore waist knives; spears and shields rested in the guard posts. But looking at their demeanor, they were thoroughly lax. Some loitered about chatting, others played leaf cards, and a few napped with heads on the table.
The gates to the various groups all stood wide open, with people coming and going freely, no one bothering to interrogate them. A few of the guards recognized Yi Haoran and called out greetings as he walked past.
Yi Haoran felt secretly pleased. He noticed that few people occupied the various group compounds, and fewer still walked the roads. Those who were present hurried along with purpose. "Where has everyone gone?" he asked.
"It's daytime. They've all gone out to work," Chang Qingyun explained. "The Australians don't let people eat for free..."
"Working on what?"
"You've seen it yourself, haven't you? Repairing the city walls, clearing the ruins—all done by us. Now they're also having people cut wood, dig ditches, load and unload cargo..."
"Wait—load and unload what?" Yi Haoran suddenly interrupted.
"Cargo," Chang Qingyun said impatiently. "What's strange about that?"
"What kind of cargo?"
"Australian cargo, of course." Chang Qingyun explained that boat convoys had been arriving in Wuzhou daily, bringing large quantities of goods now stored in the Three Headquarters.
"Old friend, what do you think the Australians are shipping so many goods to Wuzhou for?"
"Isn't it obvious? For use in frontline combat."
"But inside Wuzhou city, though the Hair thieves have increased their garrison, it's only by a few hundred men. Would a few hundred people really require such massive shipments?"
Chang Qingyun hadn't considered this. After a moment's thought, he said, "Probably for the attack on Guangxi."
Yi Haoran nodded. With commerce in Wuzhou at a standstill, the Australians' sudden influx of goods could only mean they were stockpiling for war. It seemed Governor Xiong's luck was indeed more ill than good.
As they walked on, a crossroads appeared ahead. The camp was laid out with two main roads running perpendicular—one north-south, one east-west. Although this was clearly a captive camp, a dozen or so stalls clustered around the intersection, selling snacks, tea and wine, offering letter-writing and fortune-telling services... At a glance, it resembled a rural market town.
"People are actually doing business here?!" Yi Haoran was genuinely astonished this time. He had long heard that the Australians excelled at commerce, but he had never expected they would take it this far!
"Aren't the Australians famous for their business sense?" Chang Qingyun was not surprised. "These stalls are all licensed by the Australians. The goods sold are also provided by them..."
"But these are all captives. Where would they get money?"
"When you go out to work, the Australians give you score points," Chang Qingyun said. Having been through this system twice now, he was quite familiar with the Australian methods. "Then they give you a kind of ticket that works like money inside the camp..." He pulled a small paper slip about an inch in size from his pocket.
Yi Haoran took it and examined it. It was a white paper strip with "Token Coupon" printed in Song typeface at the top and "One Fen" written in regular script below.
"A sesame cake at that stall over there costs three fen," Chang Qingyun said. "Two fen will buy you a bowl of vegetarian rice noodles. The camp provides meals, but they don't guarantee you'll be full, and the food isn't particularly good. Those who work hard get hungry fast; having these tokens lets them buy a little extra food to supplement their diet. If they accumulate enough, calling on a woman for certain services isn't difficult either."
"There are even prostitutes here?!" By now, Yi Haoran's jaw nearly hit the ground.
"Not openly, of course," Chang Qingyun said. "It's done through back channels. But the Australians know about it and don't interfere."
Yi Haoran didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In his view, becoming a captive meant being put to hard labor was only natural—at the very least, having a bowl of rice to eat meant not starving to death.
He had never imagined that this place would offer not just food and drink, but even prostitutes. How could this still be called a captive camp! No wonder several thousand people in this camp could actually remain peaceful.
"The Hair thieves feign mercy and false benevolence."
"That's not quite right," Chang Qingyun shook his head. "The Australians aren't falsely benevolent—they're shrewdly calculating. Driving people with whips, everyone makes a game of slowing down. How many overseers would you need to make people work hard? Now, with this point system and rewards, if you want to eat better and enjoy more, you'll naturally put in the effort. They use fewer overseers, and they don't breed resentment among the workers. Isn't that brilliant?"
"Old friend, it seems you've taken quite well to being a prisoner of the Hair thieves." Yi Haoran's words carried a note of sarcasm.
Chang Qingyun realized he'd spoken out of turn and coughed dryly. "Just a bit of observation, nothing more."
Passing the "market" at the crossroads, Chang Qingyun led him through the gate of one of the compounds. Inside stood five longhouses and several smaller independent huts. Though a close look revealed they were all built from extremely simple salvaged materials combined with bamboo poles and thatch, the overall appearance was still orderly.
There were slightly more people here than in the previous areas, and the population included elderly, women, and children—completely different from the groups of mainly young adult males they had seen before.
Once Chang Qingyun entered, several people greeted him. He returned their greetings as they walked.
Yi Haoran noticed that the buildings here seemed somewhat better than those in the groups he had seen earlier.
"You're right to notice. The people detained here are all captured officials and their dependents from various locations. The Australians value them more highly, rarely make them work, and provide slightly better housing."
"Which building do you live in, old friend?"
"Just here." Chang Qingyun pointed to an independent small hut on the side. "Since you're here, please come in and sit."
The building where Chang Qingyun lived was divided into eastern and western rooms. He occupied the western room. The door was woven bamboo strips; the walls were reed mats. Pushing the door open revealed a mud floor with only a bamboo couch, a desk, and an old chair. It could be called crude in the extreme, though everything inside was thoroughly swept clean. Whether it was the old blanket on the bamboo couch, the Four Treasures of the Study on the desk, or the conical hat and straw raincoat hanging on the wall—everything was arranged neatly.
What struck Yi Haoran as strangest was the enormous painting table placed in the middle of the room, upon which sat various exquisite painting tools and papers.
"I never expected your place to be so tidy!" Yi Haoran could never have imagined that the inside of this Australian "prison camp" would look like this! Though he had never personally served time in a major prison, he had been an advisor for many years and had seen much. He had witnessed various prison cells, and not one of them was anything but dark, damp, and unbearably filthy. He had never expected to encounter such a clean and orderly cell!
"I had no idea you were a man who loved cleanliness and knew how to keep things in order..." Yi Haoran offered praise. "And with such refined interests as well!"
"Hehe," Chang Qingyun smiled bitterly and gestured for him to sit. "That I love cleanliness is true. Knowing how to tidy up? Hardly! In the past, I had young servants attending me. Now, although Chang Qing is also in the camp, he cannot serve me at all times. The Australians are most particular about hygiene; if they find any 'non-compliance,' you'll inevitably have your pants stripped off at the crossroads and get whipped in public. I can't afford to lose face like that, so I have no choice but to do it myself."
Yi Haoran nodded. He was very interested in the painting table in Chang Qingyun's little hut. He walked around it once, observing several painting scrolls on the table and an unfinished flower-and-bird painting spread flat on the surface.
Yi Haoran knew that Chang Qingyun was skilled in calligraphy and painting. Back in the Governor's Shogunate, quite a few people had exchanged poems and paintings with him. But now he was confined in a prison; even if the Australians treated him well, they surely wouldn't go out of their way to supply him with pigments and painting paper.
"Old friend, you've found quite the refined pursuit even in suffering." Yi Haoran laughed and picked up a painting scroll from the side, preparing to unroll it.
"Careful! Careful!" Seeing him about to open the scroll, Chang Qingyun hurriedly stood and stopped him.
"What's wrong?" Yi Haoran was baffled.
"You must be careful with those." Chang Qingyun took the scroll from his hands and cautiously spread it open on the painting table. "The Hair thieves value these paintings extremely highly. If they get damaged, it could cost me my life..."
Yi Haoran felt a chill run through him. Chang Qingyun's words made it obvious that this painting belonged to some Hair thief; otherwise, he would never be so careful. And this painting table and these painting tools were most likely connected to these paintings as well!
He examined it closely. It was a small freehand flower-and-bird painting—of orchids.
To be honest, even with Yi Haoran's discerning eye, the level of this painting was not particularly high. It couldn't be Chang Qingyun's work. Moreover, the brushstrokes were delicate and soft, more like a woman's handiwork.
Since there was neither inscription nor signature on the painting, nor any poetry, he couldn't determine whose work it was.
"This is..." Yi Haoran looked at Chang Qingyun with an inquiring gaze.
"I don't know who painted it," Chang Qingyun shook his head. He then recounted his encounter from a few days ago. "I just returned these yesterday, and they sent new ones again. When I looked, they were all orchids—rather puzzling." He unrolled several other scrolls as he spoke.
Next Update: Volume 7 - Guangzhou Governance Part 476 (End of Chapter)