Chapter 500: Foodie

At Huangpu Naval Port, the two escapees temporarily settled down.

From the moment they entered, the thousand-ton warships that stunned the eye, the uniformly regimented order everywhere, and the masculine columns shouting slogans and marching in goose-step left the two country bumpkins dazzled and at a complete loss.

The somewhat trembling duo then let themselves be led along. Caked in mud and in tattered clothes, they were first taken into a large building belching black smoke to bathe, and then issued a set of military uniforms — and thus, two ancients wearing olive-green cotton training uniforms with topknots on their heads appeared.

Next came the "questioning" phase: the two incongruously dressed Ming people were separated and questioned in detail, with written records taken.

Interrogated alone this time, He Biandan showed no sign of resistance. First, Shopkeeper Wu had just given him instructions; second, he also knew what sort of place this was — the camp of Grand Commandant Cao, who had brought him plenty of work. So the young man, whose impression of Grand Commandant Cao was not bad, spilled everything like beans poured from a bamboo tube, telling all he knew about the situation at Guaitou Wa.

After He Biandan had finished telling everything, among the three similarly uniformed men behind the long table opposite, the civilian officer responsible for recording stood up and walked over with the written record.

Upon confirming that He Biandan was illiterate, the officer, unsurprised, took He Biandan's hand, dabbed it on an inkpad, and pressed several fingerprints onto the record.

After this, the officer handed the record to a person who had been sitting silently to the side the whole time.

Taking the record, this man flipped through it, focusing on the key points, then raised his head and said to He Biandan with a beaming smile, "Young fellow, escaping from a bandit den and even bringing along a burdensome old shopkeeper — not bad. You've got skill, and you've got heart!"

Although he could not decipher the colorful qualification badges on the man's chest or the major general's gold star on his shoulder that marked him as a Transmigrator, He Biandan was no fool. Judging by his bearing, he knew the man opposite was definitely an officer of the military academy, so he answered honestly, "My ma told me not to be a thief."

"Haha, good." The middle-aged man stood up upon hearing this. "Young fellow, you haven't eaten yet, have you? Come on, everyone to the mess hall. Let's eat first."

When the man stood up, He Biandan realized that he was actually a full head taller than himself. He Biandan was already considered tall among Ming people, but today he had met his match.

In the end, He Biandan obediently followed behind this officer who had promised him food, and arrived at the large mess hall.

It was already 2:30 in the afternoon, so when the group entered the mess hall, they found it empty and deserted, and everyone casually found a table and sat down.

Seated, He Biandan still felt somewhat constrained, because even the mess hall of a military camp had decoration that exceeded his imagination: flat and smooth cement floors, and long wooden tables a full three cun thick, made of fine rosewood and coated with lacquer.

Moreover, the long glass shop window separating the kitchen area also made He Biandan click his tongue in wonder — he had only seen such things in wealthy households and large shops on the street; he had never imagined seeing one in a mess hall.

The next moment, a soldier with a white towel hanging around his neck ran over from the kitchen, hastily stood at attention, and saluted. "General, Logistics Squad Leader Wu Zheng reporting, awaiting instructions!"

"Right, the few of us are here to eat." Wang Bo returned the salute. "Starving — just throw something together, whatever's quick."

"Yes, sir!" Having received his orders, the squad leader immediately turned around and ran into the back kitchen.

Wang Bo, the newly appointed Commander-in-Chief of the "Pioneer Army."

The so-called "Pioneer Army" was the official designation; some privately joked and called it the "Imperial Auxiliary Army." In truth, this was a semi-professional colonial army formed by the Transmigrators.

This colonial army was essentially no different from the colonizers of history — both were meant to seize territory across vast lands.

This semi-military, semi-civilian colonial army, driven by a powerful industrial engine in the future, would efficiently go to the South Seas, Australia, North America, and New Zealand to fight the natives. In this process, the colonial army would take root in the places it passed through, with veterans staying behind on unfamiliar soil to transform on the spot into plantation owners and ranch masters, achieving true territorial expansion.

The reason the newly appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Pioneer Army, Wang Bo, had come to Huangpu Naval Port this time was precisely to prepare for the Pioneer Army's first combat mission: the Bandit Suppression Campaign.

Having leapt out from the Navy Faction and single-handedly raised a major faction of his own, Wang Bo had recently been so busy he barely touched the ground.

One must know that the "Pioneer Army" was not the same as the regular army. This armed force was somewhat akin to an agricultural reclamation corps. If managed well, the Pioneer Army could recoup its costs — people from later generations naturally understood this logic.

So in theory, the Pioneer Army's establishment could be unlimited: Regiment One, Regiment Two, all the way up to Regiment Two Hundred would be fine. When the time came and territory was seized, they could just demobilize everyone on the spot — the operation was very simple.

As a result, during the initial formation stage, Commander Wang Bo had more work than other military leaders: he needed to construct a business model of investment and return to operate the Pioneer Army, which required dealing with many investors, invisibly increasing his workload.

Not only that, he also had to worry about the bandit suppression matters. At the Cabinet Meeting a few days ago, it had been decided to hand the first-stage bandit suppression matters around Guangdong over to the Pioneer Army for training. So after receiving the order, Wang Bo rushed non-stop to Huangpu Port to gather intelligence, preparing to act once his still-training subordinates arrived.

So today, upon learning that two Ming people who had penetrated deep into a bandit den had been brought back by scouts, he enthusiastically participated in the questioning. He then discovered a decent young man, one who seemed very suitable to become a soldier in the Pioneer Army.

Sitting on the bench, He Biandan had no time to care what Commander Wang was thinking at this moment — since escaping Guaitou Wa last night, aside from a few sips of stream water, he had not had a single grain of rice, and was already so hungry his front stuck to his back.

And what tormented He Biandan even more was that he could clearly see the squad leader's movements through the glass window... Bright yellow cooking oil poured into the black iron wok; a basin of white-shelled eggs were cracked one by one, the ming-yellow yolks and transparent whites dancing in the air, falling ceaselessly into the pot.

The next moment, a basin of chopped red fruits was poured into the wok, and blue smoke rose up.

Then He Biandan, without a shred of dignity, drooled in public: not long ago, he had happened to share a bowl of scrambled eggs with tomatoes with someone, and knew exactly what that tasted like.

Before long, the squad leader scooped a large basin of scrambled eggs with tomatoes from the big wok, added another large basin of white rice, and brought it to the table. Then, under the amused gazes of everyone, He Biandan, as if no one else were present, served himself rice and scrambled eggs and began wolfing it down.

The food on the table was quickly swept clean by the several soldiers and one big eater. Immediately after, seeing He Biandan grab the rice basin and start scraping grains with his fingers, Wang Bo's expression stiffened, and he abruptly stood up.

Though He Biandan was buried in frantic eating, he had long been prepared inwardly: countless times he had been beaten by various people for his graceless, ravenous grabbing of food, and today it seemed he would not escape another beating.

The next moment, another basin piled high with scrambled eggs and tomatoes was pushed in front of Biandan. "So you're a foodie. No rush, eat slowly — no one's fighting you for it."

At this moment, He Biandan raised his head, revealing a long horse-face dotted with rice grains, his mouth agape, completely stunned.