Chapter 113: Reap What You Sow

On the second night after the bandit Yang arrived in Dayuan, he came to Shang Hall to spend the night — only one day later than his junior brother Jiang Shang. Of course, he arrived at Shang Hall in a different manner: as an Army Cadet.

The military barracks left behind by the Dutch had long since been cleaned and tidied, its facilities looking brand new. Now it housed a neatly assembled group of 60 Sea-Land Cadets.

The morning sun rose in the east, its warm rays shining everywhere, and Dayuan Island welcomed another new day.

On the northern part of the island, 30 young men dressed in homespun cloth suits and standing barefoot on the sand were enduring the agony of stand-at-attention training — this was, without a doubt, painful. Yet at this moment, the cadets didn't even dare to breathe heavily: Wei Yuan, carrying a Black Ebony Short Stick in his hand, was slowly pacing through the ranks with a fierce expression, like a black bear picking out a chicken to eat.

"If your life is bitter, you can't blame the imperial court, you can't blame your dead parents, and of course, you absolutely can't blame me, your old man. The only thing to blame is your own lack of ability!"

Wei Yuan spoke as the short stick in his hand slapped against his palm with a 'pap pap' sound: "Among those standing here, some come from mountains of gold and silver, some from vast fertile fields, some have beautiful wives and concubines, and there are also those useless wastes who nearly starved to death in a ditch, only to be saved and fattened up by me, your old man, and now they stand here today."

With a 'Smack!', Wei Yuan's short stick landed on a cadet's thigh: "Tighten your legs, you bastard!" The one who got hit clenched his teeth and tightened his thigh... crying out in pain would only get him beaten worse.

"Those wealthy and noble families — their ancestors either succeeded in the imperial examinations or fought with blade and spear on the battlefield to carve out a future for their descendants. You goods who can't even recognize all the big characters don't have the ability to succeed in the exams. If you want wealth and rank, you can only earn it by risking your lives and by the labor of your own two hands!"

"Fortunately, you wastes are still young and can still be saved. Starting today, I will teach you some skills to establish yourselves. Those who put their hearts into learning, those with balls in their crotches, will one day become masters and rise above others. But if any of you are born wastes, heh heh..."

Wei Yuan stopped walking at this point, grinned savagely, and raised a single finger: "Those South Seas Dwarves cutting wood — there aren't many left, as you can see. The logging camp urgently needs wastes to fill in. Half a year — if you can survive half a year in the Miasma and Pestilence, I'll count you wastes as having some ability! Anyone who can't train up courage and skill under me, your old man, will all be sent off to cut wood! Do you understand?!"

"Un... der... stood!" the cadets roared in panic.

"Hmm, your Qi-Blood Spirit isn't bad." Wei Yuan nodded at this, then slowly bent down, glaring fiercely at Yang Er, who was trembling before him, and shouted: "Cadet, answer me — what should you say to yourself before going into battle?!"

"K-kill... the enemy... get... wealth..." Yang Er stammered with trembling lips.

"Ha ha ha!" Wei Yuan threw his head back and laughed. The next moment, he suddenly bent down again, first whacking the bandit's backside with his stick, then roaring into Yang Er's ear: "Wrong answer! It's: 'Damnable lowlife, bird-cock facing the sky!'"

"Yes! Damnable lowlife, bird-cock facing the sky!" Yang Er roared.

"Again!"

"Damnable lowlife, bird-cock facing the sky!"

"Everyone, three times!"

At the same moment, on the beach on the southern side of Dayuan Island, 30 Navy Cadets were standing at ease with legs apart.

These men were uniformly dressed in the blue, front-opening Short Jackets and Cropped Pants issued during training on the "Riding the Wind," with a pair of patented "Moyun Guan Brand" black cloth shoes on their feet. These shoes had one special feature: they could distinguish left from right.

Historically, it wasn't until 200 years later, in 1818, that Americans made the first pair of left-right differentiated shoes. Sixty years after that, in 1876, Shen Binggen of Shanghai's Pudong also successfully trial-produced them. For the thousands of years before this, people all over the world wore shoes that didn't distinguish left from right.

The 30 Navy Cadets stood quietly at ease on the beach, their hands clasped behind their backs.

Mu Longcheng still wore his crisp, straight Type 07 style Navy Officer Uniform. The brim of his Great Peaked Cap was pulled down low, his brows and eyes completely hidden in shadow. His shiny black Leather Shoes crunched against the sand of the beach with a grating sound.

"People with good fortune are envied even by masters. Only by enduring the bitterest of hardships can one rise above others. Heh heh, but you yourselves — have you ever endured the bitterest of hardships?"

Mu Longcheng held a Pig Dragon Skin Whip in his hand, slapping it against his palm repeatedly: "In this Ming Dynasty, countless people struggle to survive while soaking in bitter water. You spineless things — just how good must your fortune be to have boarded my ship?"

"On other men's ships, the crew must go into battle and shed blood, and if they catch a plague, they're thrown overboard alive. Here with me, your old man, you eat three full meals a day, use immortal medicines, and the only use left for you is to wave flags and shout battle cries, and then collect the corpses when it's over."

"Tsk tsk tsk..." Mu Longcheng shook his head as he spoke: "And as it happens, the big bosses are about to found a nation. Before your very eyes, you goods are the Jiangdong Sons, the future Founding Meritorious Officials. Ah, rising step by step to the clouds — how many heroes and gallants in the future will envy your dogshit luck?"

With a 'Smack!', the short whip in Mu Longcheng's hand lashed an unlucky fellow's backside: "You bastard, chest out, stomach in!" The unlucky one's face contorted in pain at that moment.

"Good luck just means your ancestral grave is well-positioned." Mu Longcheng's expression turned stern at this point: "But there's one more thing that I, your Governor, have the final say over: ability! Starting today, I'll first teach you some true skills in standing, eating, walking, and sleeping. Only after passing this hurdle will you have taken a steady first step, only then will you shed the skin of an Auxiliary Soldier and join the ranks of the Regular Soldiers!"

At this, Mu Longcheng stopped pacing and stood still: "On the ship, those who couldn't stand steady were swept away by the waves. No matter how good their luck, they ended up as fish food. Here with me, your old man, if you can't endure hardship and can't learn true skills, that means you can't stand steady, and then you can go cut wood. You're all lucky ones — hmm, cutting wood, you might survive about half a year."

At this, Mu Longcheng roared: "Endure hardship and fatigue to learn true skills, and in the future become Founding Ministers — is it worth it or not?!"

"Worth it!" the 30 Navy Cadets roared in unison.

"Hmm, your Qi-Blood Spirit isn't bad." Mu Longcheng nodded with satisfaction, then circled around a cadet before him — a sixteen or seventeen-year-old of unremarkable appearance, the shortest of them all, and not particularly thick in build.

Standing before this cadet who seemed utterly ordinary no matter how you looked at him, Mu Longcheng removed his Great Peaked Cap, smoothed his hair, and then said with a hint of exasperation: "Mao Wu, ah, Mao Wu, what can I even say about you? You master every sailing technique the moment you try it, you read characters well, and lately you've even been trying to sneak a peek at the Sea Battle History in my notebook. Sigh... you're so capable, I've never been able to find an excuse to whip you. This thought doesn't sit well with me."

Mao Wu, the shortest cadet among the 30, maintained the most standard at-ease posture upon hearing his Governor's words, then stared straight ahead and answered loudly: "Mao Wu thanks the Governor for his cultivation!"

"Look at that, even your answer is self-taught perfection. Hmm, very standard." Mu Longcheng put his military cap back on, adjusted the brim slightly with both hands, then pulled the Crocodile Skin Short Whip from under his armpit. With a 'Crack!' he snapped a loud whip flourish, bent down, and roared into Mao Wu's ear: "Cadet, answer me — what is the soul of the Navy?!"

"Upon sighting the enemy, engage at once! With me here, there is no foe!"

"Smack!" Mao Wu finally received his first lash since joining the gang back in Hangzhou.

"Bastard! Wrong answer! It is: 'The head may be severed, but the hairstyle must never be disheveled!'"

"Yes! The head may be severed, but the hairstyle must never be disheveled!"

"Again!"

"Everyone, three times!"