Chapter 418: Deployment

The two men sitting in the bare-bones reception room were the future Beijing Station Chief Xue Haiyuan and the current Jin Station Chief Yao Jianshe.

Comrade Yao Jianshe's earliest trade was circuit design; he was the very last transmigrator the Intelligence Bureau managed to sweet-talk onto the intelligence front through "internal talent scouting"...

After all, ever since last year, the Cao Emperor had stopped "inviting" people to the New World, so the Intelligence Bureau was now losing battle after battle — no matter how they cajoled and coaxed, the vast majority of those pampered, high-and-mighty lords had no desire to go be some damned spy.

And so the final intelligence operative, Yao Jianshe, was assigned to the critical location of Jin the moment he came out of the mountain.

Fortunately, intelligence work in the seventeenth century was not very difficult. Judging from the experience of previous intelligence stations, the transmigrator in charge didn't actually need to take on much risk or pressure — the difficulty was no different from running a branch office in later generations.

So this time, Yao Jianshe came to the Beijing-Tianjin area together with the old hand Xue Haiyuan — their two stations were close, so if anything happened, mutual support would be convenient.

And now, receiving the various parties who had come to pay visits marked the two station chiefs' first public appearance in the Beijing-Tianjin area.

Due to a severe manpower shortage, according to the latest guiding principles, intelligence station chiefs would henceforth all hold official public identities, in order to implement the "one person, one city" strategy. The previous arrangement of one overt and one covert operative would be phased out.

Thus, the two station chiefs whom the Ming man Lu Shui met inside the room were now already dressed in Rank Nine official robes, and their titles had become "Factory Manager of the Regional Commander's Office Records Office."

The Records Office was a low-ranking civil official unit responsible for managing incoming and outgoing documents and correspondence. This unit mainly handled paperwork and execution for interfacing with superior departments, and was quite widespread in the Ming Dynasty — somewhat analogous to an office in later generations: the principal's office, the education bureau office, and so on.

In short, in the Ming Dynasty, nearly every government office would establish a subordinate Records Office. Consequently, the "Factory Manager" of a Records Office, much like the title "director" in later times, could vary unpredictably depending on the rank of the superior office.

For example, the Records Office of the Five Chief Military Commissions was a Fifth Rank unit, while the Records Office of Shuntian Prefecture was a mere lowly Seventh Rank.

Therefore, based on this characteristic — being both inconspicuous and able to meddle in practically anything — the Factory Manager of the Records Office became the best cover identity for the two station chiefs in the open.

Moreover, appointing someone to this post was also very convenient: the Regional Commander's Office Records Office was a Seventh Rank office, and its Factory Manager counted as a semi-independent subordinate official recruited by Cao Jiangjun himself. It only required a notification filed with the Grand Coordinator's Office, without needing to go through the Ministry of Personnel.

The receptionists the local natives of Jin saw today at the scout field were precisely these two Factory Manager appointed by the Regional Commander's Office.

After Lu Shui entered the room, the two Factory Manager, who still appeared tall and fair-skinned in the eyes of Northerners, first exchanged a few simple pleasantries with him. Then, the amiable Factory Manager Xue and Factory Manager Yao, speaking in an odd "southern dialect," began chatting with Lu Shui about "family matters."

Lu Shui knew this was a "background check," so he hurriedly gave a brief account of his own circumstances, and then suitably expressed a measure of "admiration" for the General's great kindness — he knew a whole crowd of big shots was waiting outside, and the conversation would end quickly, so he had to seize the moment to convey his "central message."

Sure enough, five minutes later, the initial contact between both sides was concluded. After receiving a promise to "be good friends who visit often and look out for each other," Lu Shui left the room in high spirits.

The two Factory Manager, meanwhile, fiddled with the recorder on the table, exchanged a few amused remarks about the clever clerk Lu Shui, and then said to the guard: "Send in the next one."

And so, Cao Regional Commander's troops, who had come to "defend the throne," began their so-called "rest and reorganization."

In less than three days, the civil and military officials of Jinwei were stunned: ever since Commander Cao had ensconced himself in the Old Parade Ground, they saw no drilling of troops; instead, he was grandly receiving guests and merchants coming and going, turning a sacred "campaign to defend the throne" into a mercantile gathering reeking of copper.

... By this time, Commander Cao's background had also been thoroughly hyped up in Jinwei; everyone knew he was rich.

In this way, Lord Cao inevitably drew the gaze of the natives, especially the local civil and military officials of Jinwei.

This southern Regional Commander was simply too bizarre — wherever the transmigrators went, those actions that seemed like "throwing silver away for nothing" always struck the natives as incomprehensible.

Whether it was the renovation of the Grand Scout Field or the filling project at Mud Pit, in the eyes of the officials, this was pure self-destruction: you, Cao, are a guest army and cannot be permanently stationed in Jin. Spending such a colossal amount of silver to renovate a temporary station — isn't that just brain-dead?

A Regional Commander willing to dig into his own pocket to repair barracks for another garrison — the only one around was probably this money-is-no-object Cao Shazi!

Yet the transmigrators persisted in their own way, looking utterly determined to carry this foolishness through to the end: on the bitterly cold winter construction site, Cao Shazi spared no expense in buying vast quantities of coal, hiring large numbers of workers, working nonstop through the night, and paying several times the summer cost to race against the clock.

One thing the officials failed to notice was this: many of those hired by Cao Shazi were refugees.

Did Jinwei have refugees? Of course it did, and in large, temporary waves.

Ever since the Eight Banners Army marched south, countless Ming people in the Jingji Area had begun fleeing south with their families. And Jin, as a grain transport hub with its convenient canal and large stockpiles of food and supplies, teeming with the wealthy, had without a doubt become the first stop for refugees.

So what was there to wait for? After three years since the Crossing, a certain power base had now refined this routine to perfection.

Step one: hire large numbers of refugees to work.

Step two: in the process, thoroughly show the beggars what it means to be flush with cash, to rescue them from suffering, and to treat people with sincerity.

Step three: screen and persuade, then pack them onto ships and ship them out.

Relying on this increasingly familiar set of procedures, the Empire was now absorbing natives in multiple coastal cities of the Great Ming, with remarkable results.

And this time, when the several transmigrators heading north saw the vast numbers of northern refugees, they practically drooled: enriching the Old Home's population sources was a matter of utmost urgency. The arrival of large numbers of northern immigrants would greatly alleviate the disproportionately high number of southerners back in the "homeland." This was an important national policy concerning long-term peace and stability, and had to be taken seriously.

One week. In just one short week, the formerly dilapidated Old Parade Ground stood on its original site once more, like a brand-new silver coin.

The existing enclosing wall had now had its breaches repaired, and had been freshly coated with white calcium oxide; watchtowers had also been added — neat and tidy, beautifully planned.

Within the sprawling parade ground, the previously ramshackle buildings had all been renovated, and some temporary soldier dormitories had been added beside them: low structures built of double-layer brick and wood, with the gaps sealed with cement.

Although these temporary low buildings had poor lighting and were cramped, they could block the winter winds of the Little Ice Age, already surpassing the homes of the vast majority of ordinary families.

Furthermore, on a portion of the mud pit that had already been raised and tamped solid, enclosing walls and a horse corral built of brick and wood were gradually extending out.

And what astonished the natives most was a small boiler being hoisted out from one of the transport ships. Now the natives understood what that renovated building on the parade ground, the one with the brick chimney, was for.

With a boiler, there was hot water around the clock, and a bathhouse to keep the soldiers healthy and clean. This was the true game-changer. One must understand that during the Little Ice Age in the north, most people could not afford to bathe; the natives' sanitary conditions were extremely dire, with all sorts of germs and infectious diseases everywhere, which made the transmigrators shudder with fear.

Of course, none of these achievements could be separated from the local big merchants.

Including recruiting refugees, hiring craftsmen, organizing large quantities of construction materials, arranging logistical supplies — behind these seemingly smooth projects lay the resources that the big merchants had mobilized from all over. Commander Cao, utterly in the dark on his own, certainly could not have managed it at present.

However, Commander Cao also gave the merchants ample reward: compared to the kerosene lamp and kerosene agency rights for a certain area, what did these few "favors" the merchants had done and that bit of grain they had sent amount to?

In recent days, the goods unloaded from the transport ships had, unsurprisingly, triggered fierce bidding among the local commercial firms. This was also the main reason the project progress could advance at breakneck speed — the merchants all viewed this as a test of their own firm's strength.

Seven days later, the Cao Family Army, having taken initial shape and formally settled in, began a new round of eye-catching activities.

Starting from that morning, herds of horses came along the dirt roads to the Old Parade Ground. The owners of the horse herds were horse traders from beyond the passes.

The horse traders had not only horses in hand, but also camels and cattle.

As a grain transport hub, the horse gangs that usually gathered in Jin were quite numerous. The horses in these men's hands would travel south along the canal all the way to Jiangnan; the luxury steeds used by wealthy merchants there to pull carts were all purchased from these fellows.

And now, the one driving a horse herd to the Old Parade Ground was the largest horse gang currently stationed in Jinwei.

The horse gang, having received instructions in advance, had driven nearly three hundred Mongol horses for selection, so at this moment the parade ground was filled with shouting men and neighing horses — a scene of great bustle.

The grooms provided by the merchants, and some old guards familiar with horse temperament who often traveled beyond the passes, were all on the parade ground now, inspecting the horses while loudly discussing.

And the Cao Family Army, utterly helpless in this regard, could only remain utterly helpless — the transmigrators were not gods after all, and had not considered the matter of horse appraisal when they set out. Most of the group were southerners; although some had ridden horses before, knowing how to ride and knowing how to judge a horse were two completely different things.

So today's horse-buying event could only be entrusted to the temporarily hired grooms and guards; Cao Jiangjun just had to pay out the silver.

The vigorous horse-selection activity lasted for the greater part of a day. In the end, most of the horses with a shoulder height above 1.3 meters were kept, totaling two hundred head.

At this point, the newly built horse corral on the adjacent mud pit came in handy.

Lu Shui, who had delivered military supplies a few days earlier, was now directing his civilian laborers to help, watering and feeding the horses — those black beans, wheat, and buckwheat he had personally delivered were, just as Accountant Lv had said that day, being poured generously into the mangers, supposedly to "fatten up" the horses.

"They really are flush with cash!" Lu Shui clicked his tongue secretly. In the north, actually, these black beans, stale wheat, and buckwheat were the daily rations of many armies and ordinary households; the concept of so-called "horse feed" simply didn't exist.

Next came the Payment Time.

Then the people gathered around the Scout Field saw the Cao Family Army's accountant throw the felt blanket open with one sweep, revealing a shiny, rectangular pile of iron boxes stacked up beneath.