Chapter 110: Yang Er and Moyun Temple

Ever since being loaded onto the ship and sent out to sea, during the first two ventilation breaks, Yang Er could still see some distant islands. In the last few, he couldn't make out even a trace of land. Yang Er didn't know where he was, nor when the fleet would reach shore. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps the fleet would never make landfall.

Taking his ventilation break, he had no idea: if he could have managed to stay on deck for a full two hours this time, he would have seen the final stop — the Tainan coastline. Unfortunately, each of his ventilation breaks lasted only the time it takes one incense stick to burn.

A few days earlier, that night, when Yang Er was woken from his bunk and brought to the brightly lit front hall of Moyun Temple, he knew very clearly that his turn had finally come.

In the months after Yang Er arrived, Moyun Temple had changed little by little each day. In the end, apart from the newly built front hall used to keep up appearances, the remaining rubble was gradually replaced by row after row of neat dormitories.

It wasn't just the rubble that was gradually replaced, but also the old hands in the temple. From the night Wei Abbot took away the sect's many big shots, as quick as ten days or as slow as half a month, there were always some people who, after sunrise the next day, were never seen again.

Yang Er knew these people had all been taken away in the middle of the night.

The Great Monks managing the temple possessed Divine Power, able to see people in the dark. These sorts specialized in operating at midnight. Those old sect hands who didn't believe in such evil, who sought a chance to flee, were all shot dead mid-escape by bird blunderbusses — Yang Er had collected the bodies several times.

As the old hands in the temple were Sent Off one after another, the rank of the Beggar Sect members brought in as replacements grew lower and lower. Those Yang Er was familiar with became fewer and fewer; most were new beggars who joined the sect just for a bite to eat. After the new dormitories were built, the temple's rules grew increasingly strict. One bunk, one number; if one person in a dorm caused trouble, all were punished collectively. If anyone privately discussed going out to sea, the entire dorm would soon vanish.

Yang Er sought opportunities to ask old acquaintances newly arrived at the temple, and only then learned that the outside world had long since changed. The new Group Head's methods were ruthless; he was vigorously reorganizing sect affairs. Those now in charge of every branch were all trusted confidants of the Dragon Head brought in from outside.

Any old hand in the sect with even a modicum of status was a thorn in these people's side. They always sought faults to suppress them. Every few days, old hands along with their trusted followers would be exiled to Moyun Temple. As for those who secretly resisted, who knew how many had been slaughtered. By now, the sect's old hands had been replaced almost entirely; it was no longer the Beggar Sect of Before.

At That Time, after hearing this, Yang Er was terrified out of his wits. The young man then understood: even if he managed to escape one day, returning to Hangzhou would likely mean death... In his panic, Yang Er resolutely turned over a new leaf and became a scholar — as far as he knew, the only ones in the temple who didn't lack food and drink, and probably wouldn't be taken away at midnight, were those few bookworm types.

However, studying also required qualifications. Although Yang Er had his ironclad brother, now renamed Jiang Shang, tutoring him outside of class, he still stumbled through those convoluted "scriptures." Because his learning level was very average, he could only barely maintain the realm of not being assigned to manual labor — after the night Wei Abbot, who liked Yang Er's cleverness, disappeared, he had once been sent off by the new Abbot to weave Straw Sandals.

After the large-scale civil engineering projects were completed, Moyun Temple began to standardize, adopting a prison-like management. Based on the order of entry into the temple, planned "cells" awaited different batches of Newcomers to move in.

The mat grass and cotton bought from outside the temple would, following a simple assembly-line procedure, be turned step by step by the people in the cells into homespun cloth clothes, Straw Sandals, and straw hats. The styles were the most material-saving cross-collar Short Jackets and Cropped Pants, not even requiring dyeing — Moon-White Cloth was fine. All finished products would not be sold; the surplus would be stored in the Storehouse, then Loaded onto ships and transported away — Dayuan's textile industry was still who-knows-when away, and at this stage, finished products were desperately scarce.

Everyone who entered Moyun Temple would, after completing a Series of quarantine procedures, receive a period of Rest and Reorganization. There was no heavy manual labor, and the food was decent, so many Newcomers who were skin and bones became normal and healthy in just one or two short months. During this period, the managers would make simple adjustments; the old, weak, sick, and disabled would be transferred out, while others would have their dormitories reassigned and their sailing dates arranged.

The general principle of first-come, first-served never changed. Earlier batches had already prioritized sending off all the Beggar Sect old hands. After several trips, the current Human Resources in the temple were, the vast Majority, newly joined Refugees who knew nothing. The only ones kept until the very end were One Group of top students, the elite among elites, the Three-Stripes.

So, at the same time Cao Chuan successfully transmitted 8 boxes of Equipment to Dayuan, after Hangzhou Station received the telegram, they notified the Dog Eye fleet, which was in Rest and Reorganization, to Be Prepared To set sail, and also notified Moyun Temple: this batch of top students was about to be shipped out, because Dayuan's housing shortage would soon be alleviated — schools were the first-priority structures.

Thus, Yang Er ultimately still met the fate of boarding the ship at midnight. However, the good thing was, that night he discovered his brother Jiang Shang was also in the contingent. But Jiang Shang wasn't on the same road as him; he and two blue-robed scholars who boarded later all stayed in the upper-class cabins. Yang Er stayed in the bottom hold.

Pulling his wandering thoughts back from beyond the floating world, Yang Er, who had been leaning against the bulwark and blowing in the Sea Wind for half an incense stick's time, figured the time was about up. He spat a gob of phlegm into the sea, then picked up the urine bucket and prepared to return to the hold.

Just as he reached the hatchway, he encountered someone sauntering up from below.

"Brother Jiang!" Yang Er greeted the newcomer with delighted surprise.

"Brother Yang!" Seeing it was his old pal, Jiang Shang chuckled, pulled Yang Er aside, and took half an orange from his pocket to give him. "Tough living down below, eh?"

Without even peeling the rind, Yang Er Stuffed the entire half orange into his mouth in one go. Chewing vigorously, he mumbled indistinctly, "Tough! The ventilation time is so short. Nothing like you folks up in the upper cabins, living freely with food and drink."

The Jiang Shang standing before Yang Er was long past his initial skeleton-soldier form. The young man now had a healthy complexion and a well-proportioned build. In just a few short months, his height had shot up a notch. He wore an indigo fine-cloth cross-collar Short Jacket on top, and long pants of the same material below, the cuffs resting on the surface of his Songjiang Cloth Shoes — completely unlike a mud-legged rube like Yang Er, whose ankles were exposed.

Hearing Yang Er's complaint, Jiang Shang first chuckled foolishly a few times, then said to him, "Hang in there a bit longer. We're almost at our destination. We'll arrive today."

"Really? Brother, don't you be fooling me."

"Really! I saw the Sea Chart in the deckhouse. The Grand Steward even tested me on conversions, and I got them all right. The orange was a reward from the Shopkeeper."

"Aiyoh, we're finally about to reach our destination. This has been the death of me, brother. Haven't we drifted a full ten thousand li across the ocean this trip? Sigh, to be exiled to the edge of the world."

"Not ten thousand li." Jiang Shang thought about it very seriously, then counted on his fingers and calculated, "It's about 1000 kilometers, 540 nautical miles, 2000 Chinese li. We're currently off the coast of Fujian, in the territory of Ancient Yi Province."

Yang Er blinked, staring blankly at Jiang Shang, speechless for a moment.