Chapter 448: Iron‑Blooded Roadbuilding to Black Mountain

The scorching heat of the Western Australian desert, like an invisible giant beast, lies low between heaven and earth, exhaling a searing breath.

Sweat that had just seeped from Zhang Jianguo's skin as he stood on the temporary camp's watchpost was instantly licked dry by the hot wind, leaving only a salty stickiness.

He squinted and gazed at the red earth bleached white by the sun.

At the horizon where sky meets earth, the air rippled from the extreme heat, making the distant jagged rocks appear like ghostly shadows wavering in water.

This is the place they will guard and help build.

Compared with the moist, sea‑scented morning fog of the Shenzhen training ground, this place is so dry it tightens the throat, each breath feeling like swallowing scorching sandpaper.

Three days ago, their fifty‑person team, after a long flight and bumpy road ride, finally arrived in the area internally called "Black Mountain".

Awaiting them, besides the scorching heat, was a group of taciturn Soviet veterans whose eyes carried a scrutinizing gaze.

The leader was still Wei Kuo Duo.

He looked at the newly arrived Chinese youths in uniform desert camouflage, dark‑skinned yet resolute, his face expressionless, and gave a brief, stiff English rundown of camp rules and the alert zone.

As the squad leader appointed by Wang Dahu, Zhang Jianguo stepped forward to shake Wei Kuo Duo's hand.

His hand was strong.

Wei Kuo Duo's hand was rougher, covered with calluses and scars.

The two hands clasped briefly, yet seemed to exchange a silent, probing force.

"Here, we handle the outer perimeter," Wei Kuo Duo said, pointing to the broader area beyond the camp, "you take the core zone."

His English bore a heavy Russian accent, but the meaning was clear.

The division of labor was clear, the boundaries distinct.

Zhang Jianguo nodded, "Understood. We'll familiarize ourselves with the situation as soon as possible."

He asked nothing further, nor showed any newcomer timidity.

Wang Dahu had said when selecting people that this team could include those unskilled in speech, but not cowards.

The first few days were a hard period of adaptation and adjustment.

The climate was the first hurdle.

By day, the sun was so fierce it could strip skin, and the ground temperature could fry an egg.

At night, the temperature plummeted, cold seeping from deep within the red gravel, freezing people into shivers.

Drinking water was strictly rationed, limited per person per day, making personal hygiene a problem.

The wind‑blown sand entered every crevice; meals required turning one's back, and sleep meant covering the head.

Several young members developed blisters on their lips, their skin reddened, swollen, and peeled, yet no one complained.

They were hardened by the unit's grind; this hardship they could endure.

The harder part was coordinating with the Soviet veterans.

The language barrier was the biggest obstacle.

Both sides could only communicate via simple English words, gestures, and sketches drawn in the sand.

Wei Kuo Duo's men were accustomed to the bold, expansive Soviet style, preferring obvious high points for alerts and making conspicuous moves during operations.

Zhang Jianguo's team, however, emphasized concealment, indirect routes, and small‑unit coordination, striving to control the situation silently.

At first, some bumps were inevitable.

The Soviet veterans thought the Chinese youths were too "delicate", not direct enough.

The Chinese troops felt the others were too "obtrusive", likely to expose targets.

Zhang Jianguo reported the situation faithfully via the camp's precious shortwave Radio Station to Zhou Wenbin, who was still coordinating the overall effort in Perth.

Zhou Wenbin's reply was brief: "Seek common ground while preserving differences; the core is safety. Methods can be refined, goals must be consistent. Convey to Wei Kuo Duo that Li Zong trusts his professionalism, and also trusts the newly arrived brothers. All to safeguard the family's assets."

Zhang Jianguo conveyed Zhou Wenbin's message, through the camp's only translator who knew a bit of Russian, to Wei Kuo Duo.

After listening, Wei Kuo Duo silently drew half a cigarette.

The smoke rose straight up in the scorching air.

Then he stubbed out the butt and nodded at Zhang Jianguo.

"Understood. It's all for the work."

From then on, both sides began to conduct joint patrols and drills consciously.

Zhang Jianguo had his men teach the Soviet veterans some simple Chinese commands and gestures.

Wei Kuo Duo also let his men share their experience patrolling mountainous and desert terrain in Afghanistan.

Although communication remained rough, the intangible barrier and rivalry gradually gave way to a coarse yet practical partnership.

After a joint meeting, Zhang Jianguo, using the clumsy Russian words he had just learned plus gestures, told Wei Kuo Duo, "Whether black cat or white cat, as long as you can guard the mine, you're a good cat."

The translator beside them stifled a laugh, laboriously rendering it into Russian.

Wei Kuo Duo listened, and the usually expressionless face of Zhang showed a rare twitch of the mouth.

He probably understood.

As the security forces completed their initial integration, the true centerpiece of the Black Mountain project—large‑scale development and construction—finally began.

The technical team led by Ma Guotao and the Engineering advance squad dispatched from home arrived one after another.

Along with them came the first batch of heavy equipment components.

Massive trucks carved deep tracks across the red desert, kicking up dust that blotted out the sky.

The land, silent for billions of years, was awakened by the roar of machines and human clamor.

The first structures erected were the permanent camp and the core storage area.

The site was chosen in a relatively leeward hollow.

The blueprints, meticulously designed by Ma Guotao's team using Zhao Zhenshan's exploration data, needed to meet basic living and work needs while also accounting for defense and concealment.

Domestic construction workers, together with Soviet and Chinese security personnel, braved the scorching sun to lay foundations, erect prefabricated houses, and build water tanks and a simple power station.

Zhang Jianguo assigned part of his team to set up bright and Secret Sentry around the construction site, while also helping maintain order and ensure the safety of equipment and materials.

Victor's men were responsible for patrols and Reconnaissance farther out, staying alert to any eyes that might spy from a distance.

The whole area resembled a precision machine that suddenly started, with every gear beginning to mesh and turn.

The railway is the key to the next step.

Without a railway, the mined ore would be just a pile of stones buried in the desert, unable to be shipped out, and could not become money.

Ma Guotao, Zhou Wenbin, and Chen Anbang repeatedly ran simulations in Perth, and finally settled on a plan: to build a branch railway connecting, fifty kilometers away, to the existing main line leading to Heideland Port.

This would both maximize cost and construction‑time savings and make use of the existing port facilities.

But a fifty‑kilometer desert railway is no small project.

Survey work on the route began first.

Zhao Zhenshan's geological team set out again, this time publicly, under the name "Constructing a Transport Corridor for an Agricultural Experimental Base," to explore the route.

They needed to avoid complex geological structures and choose the most economical and stable route.

Zhang Jianguo dispatched an elite squad to escort the survey team throughout.

The team members, burdened with heavy gear, moved ahead, behind, and beside the surveyors, watching every step— the desert held not only scorching stones and thorny shrubs, but occasionally Poison Snakes and spiders lurking in the shade.

Once, a young geologist inadvertently disturbed a thorn snake hidden beneath red sandstone.

The snake snapped its head up and hissed a threatening sound.

A nearby security guard reacted instantly, pulling the geologist away while precisely pressing the snake's head down seven inches with a long staff; another guard quickly moved forward to deal with it.

The whole process took less than ten seconds.

The geologist turned pale with fright and kept thanking them.

The guard simply smiled good‑naturedly: "It's fine, Wang Dahu instructed that technical staff are as important as the equipment."

The railway construction permit, thanks to the efforts of Chen Anbang's legal team and Zhou Wenbin's local public relations, was painstakingly but successfully approved under the name "Logistics Corridor Supporting an Agricultural Base."

At the same time, a broader "Site Grading and Infrastructure Permit," whose usage description remained vague, was also approved.

With that document, larger‑scale construction gained a legal veneer.

The first batch of rails, sleepers, and road‑building machinery arrived by sea at Heideland Port, then were hauled by heavy trucks in great numbers to the "Black Mountain" area.

The railway construction crew also moved in.

The workforce consists mainly of locally and Southeast Asian‑hired laborers, led by engineers and technicians from the home country.

The camp grew noisier and more complex.

People of different skin tones and languages mingled, their varied shouts, the roar of machinery, and the clatter of materials weaving into a rugged, powerful desert symphony.

Zhang Jianguo and Victor's pressure increased.

They had to guard against external threats and maintain internal stability.

They instituted stricter camp entry and exit regulations and tightened control over all construction zones, especially the future mine's core area.

Anyone entering the core zone must have personal approval from Ma Guotao or Zhao Zhenshan and be accompanied by security personnel.

Equipment installation proceeded in parallel.

The massive chassis of mining trucks, the huge crusher components, the winding conveyor‑belt frames… these steel behemoth parts gradually formed vague outlines on the open red earth.

Heavy‑machinery engineers and technical consultants from Britain, Germany, Japan, as well as from Shenyang and Luoyang, directed installation and commissioning on site.

Language became a big stew.

English, German, Japanese, Chinese, Russian, and the various dialects and local tongues spoken by the workers mingled together.

Communication relied mainly on gestures, sketches, and a few key translators running back and forth.

He Xiao also sent two young engineers from Shenzhen's automobile project team, ostensibly to "learn large‑equipment maintenance experience," but actually to familiarize themselves early with the mining‑vehicle technology that might be needed.

The two youngsters were deeply impressed by the desert's vastness and the enormity of the equipment, circling the massive tires and engine bays, marveling continuously.

Zhang Jianguo watched them and recalled Wang Dahu's words: "What we're protecting now isn't just the ore; it's the capital for future car and machine manufacturing."

He didn't fully grasp the complex technology, but he understood that the clanking iron contraptions on the ground and the silent black stones underground were important pieces on Li Zong's board.

His and his brothers' mission was to ensure those pieces fell steadily onto their proper spots, untouched by anyone.

Construction was not smooth sailing.

Desert weather is like a child's face—changing on a whim.

One moment the sun blazes overhead; the next, fierce winds whip up sand and stones, dropping visibility to a few meters in an instant.

The newly erected temporary shacks were blown so that they swayed on the brink of collapse.

Stored building materials were buried by wind‑blown sand.

Construction had to be halted repeatedly.

On another occasion, a brief downpour triggered a rare desert flood; the murky mudflow washed away a newly laid roadbed and nearly flooded the low‑lying equipment storage area.

Zhang Jianguo and Victor led everyone in a night‑time rescue, hauling sandbags through knee‑deep mud, reinforcing levees, and moving equipment.

Everyone turned into Clay Figurines, unable to tell who was a China soldier and who a Soviet soldier.

When the flood receded and the east turned a pale fish‑belly hue, everyone, exhausted, sat in the mud, watching each other's disheveled state, unsure who laughed first.

Then the laughter spread.

Even though languages differed, the shared fatigue and relief after the joint struggle were mutual.

Zhou Wenbin occasionally flew in from Perth for inspections.

He wore a shirt and slacks, looking out of place on the dust‑filled site.

But he never minded, delving into each construction point, talking with engineers, workers, and security staff to learn about progress and difficulties.

Watching the railway foundation extend meter by meter, the massive crusher rise slowly on its base, and the camp grow from barren wasteland to a fledgling settlement, a rare smile would appear on his tired face.

"Hard work, everyone."

Before each departure, he would say to Zhang Jianguo, Victor, Ma Guotao and the others, "Li Zong is constantly monitoring the progress here. What the home country needs is solid, step‑by‑step results like these."

What he brought was not only encouragement, but also solid support—more funding approvals, smoother material supply channels, and clear endorsement from the group's higher-ups.

This made everyone fighting on this red earth feel more at ease.

At night, the desert returned to its ancient silence.

Only the low hum of the generator and the occasional footsteps of patrol squad members in the distance.

Zhang Jianguo finished checking the sentry post and returned to his own board house.

He took out the notebook he carried with him, and in the dim light recorded the day's work: personnel status, patrol situation, engineering progress, matters needing attention…

On the flyleaf of the notebook was a sentence written by Wang Dahu before departure, the calligraphy strong and vigorous:

"As long as we are here, the position stands; as long as supplies remain, our honor remains."

He closed the notebook and blew out the oil lamp.

Outside the board house, the Milky Way hung low, brilliantly dazzling, as if one could reach up and pluck it.

This starry sky was no different from that of his homeland.

Only the scorching red earth beneath his feet and the black mountain range sleeping underground gave this night a different weight.

The railway was still being laid forward.

Equipment was still being installed.

Lights dotted the camp like scattered stars.

Everything had only just begun.

But Zhang Jianguo knew that the roots they had taken hold here, the piles they had driven, the tracks they had laid, would ultimately join into a solid road.

A road that would awaken the slumbering black wealth and transport it to distant places in need.

And they were the road's first and most silent guardians.

Pillowed by the desert night wind and the Milky Way, he fell into a deep sleep.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise as fiercely as ever.

And construction will continue.