Chapter 646: The Road to Taking Office (III)

After the Second Transmigrator Assembly, the Cao Emperor, now able to "rule personally," fulfilled his promise and resumed the "import" of transmigrated personnel.

Unlike their "predecessors," as the regime grew stronger and its concerns diminished, the "newcomers'" adjustment period was shortened considerably, and their "onboarding" time was greatly advanced.

Among them, Wen Guangjun was one of the few "newcomers" willing to work at the Intelligence General Bureau.

Although Wen Guangjun's rank in his "previous life" was not high, he had specifically done political vetting work for a period, making his assignment to the Intelligence General Bureau a professional match.

In fact, Wen Guangjun's addition was exceptionally precious to the Intelligence General Bureau — most transmigrators from military and police backgrounds, the moment they figured out the situation, would pat their bellies and go sit in government offices, rarely willing to return to their previous life's front lines.

Thus, not long after Wen Guangjun started at the Intelligence General Bureau, the desperately short-staffed Dai Yun parachuted him into the position of Fuzhou Station Chief.

This arrangement was reasonable.

As the city where the transmigrators first laid out plans and first established intelligence agencies, present-day Fuzhou had long been infiltrated by the intelligence system like a sieve.

To put it bluntly, the moment word spread that General Cao had raised the rebel banner, three, five, or seven different groups in Fuzhou would rush to the Governor's Mansion within minutes, intending to cut off the Governor's dog head to claim credit — though they might all miss their mark, since there were "comrades" inside the Governor's Mansion too.

There is no one under Heaven who does not connect with the Frizzy-Hairs.

Therefore, the Fuzhou Station was in fact not a post that required great effort. On the contrary, with all its work already on track, the Fuzhou Station was actually suitable for a newcomer like Wen Guangjun to engage with the "new society" and understand the overall situation.

At the same time, the General Bureau transferred the original transmigrator Station Chief to work in the more complex northern regions. For the manpower-strapped intelligence system, this was truly a good thing.

Wen Guangjun, who had rushed to take up his post, had spent a total of four months in Fuzhou up to today, just about getting familiar with the territory. Then he suddenly received notice of a reception assignment: Station Chief Nan Wang was passing through as a guest.

Reception work was naturally nothing new to Wen Guangjun. In his previous life, he had also received people from brother units. While arranging food and lodging, he also had to assist them with cases, catching fugitives and the like.

Based on past experience, the process for receiving colleagues in the 17th century should be about the same. But this time was a little different: Station Chief Wen appeared composed, but in truth, he attached considerable importance to this matter.

The reason? Master Wen was now a Transmigrated Noble, so naturally he had no need to worry about the guest's food, lodging, and sundry chores. What interested Master Wen was this: Nan Wang was the first "same-rank" native elite he had encountered.

All along, transmigrators, especially "crash-course" transmigrators like Wen Guangjun, more or less went through an adjustment process of identity dislocation.

From loser to master, from corporate slave to big shot, from an ordinary person to a prophetic savior who knew everything above and below. While feeling the awed gazes of the natives, many transmigrators often needed to repeatedly confirm things to keep themselves from losing their bearings.

This sense of identity dislocation had taken Wen Guangjun a very long time to adapt to.

Yet this visit from Nan Wang threw Wen Guangjun's hard-won mental equilibrium into some disarray again — at least on the surface, to the majority of natives who could not grasp the real situation, both sides were equal.

So Wen Guangjun was actually very interested in Nan Wang. He hoped to use this opportunity to interact with him and adapt himself to dealing with native elites.

Although his time since transmigrating was not long, Wen Guangjun understood clearly in his heart that, given the pitifully small number of transmigrators, ultimately, most positions in the New World would have to be filled by native elites. He not only had to adapt to being a master, but also learn to adapt to this new change.

However, faced with the keenly interested Wen Guangjun, Nan Wang, one of the main figures this time, had been perfectly proper ever since stepping off the carriage, his salutations and courtesies measured and appropriate, never overstepping by a fraction, his words watertight, entirely in the manner of an old official.

Nan Wang, who had dealt with transmigrators from the very beginning, could be considered an "old minister." So Nan Wang was very clear about the inherent gap in status between everyone; his heart was like a bright mirror.

This shaped his approach for today.

Deep down, Nan Wang did not believe he could stand on equal footing with the Transmigrated Nobles. He also knew that behind those gentle, learned faces lay immense, mysterious power and some kind of inseparable internal communication, which was absolutely not something a "newly promoted" person like him could casually latch onto.

And the most important point: Nan Wang knew nothing about Wen Guangjun, who had been parachuted into Fuzhou, and had absolutely no understanding of his background or faction. This point was the most critical — without knowing the other party's details, one must not recklessly extend an olive branch; after all, the transmigrators now had N number of great factions internally.

Therefore, the moment they met today, he summoned his full spirit to deal with the latter, internally adopting the exact approach a subordinate uses to handle a superior.

Afterward, Station Chief Wen, sensing the atmosphere of the meeting was off, still accompanied the guest for lunch according to etiquette. And when Wen Guangjun finally realized that this Station Chief Nan, whom he had never met before, was indeed deliberately "reserved," he completely lost the desire to interact.

The subsequent reception activities became visibly lackluster. After the meal, Master Wen casually assigned some subordinate to be responsible for receiving the guest. As for himself, his Transmigrated Noble temper flaring, he slapped his backside and walked off.

Faced with this outcome, Nan Wang remained unperturbed by favor or disgrace.

He had long since figured out that when serving under the transmigrators, as long as you did your job well, you would most likely get a proper result. There was no need, as in the Great Ming, to constantly worry about hidden daggers from superiors and subordinates.

That said, this kind of low-internal-friction atmosphere usually appeared for a period within emerging groups and new regimes.

New groups have no historical baggage, their internal state like the rising morning sun. Coupled with enough vacant positions waiting to be filled, new groups are typically spirited and upward-looking, mutually cooperative, fully outward-facing, with factional infighting reduced to a minimum.

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Since the rapport with the local big shot had not gone very pleasantly, Nan Wang's team naturally felt too embarrassed to linger in Fuzhou, lest they become an annoyance.

So at noon the next day, after completing the cargo transfer and loading some Fujian local specialties, the East Guangfu swiftly hoisted its sails and departed.

They continued north along the coastline, even dropping anchor off Taizhou in Zhejiang to shelter from a few storms along the way. Ultimately, when the lookout atop the East Guangfu's mast spotted the great port in the distance, it was already the middle of the month, with spring in full bloom and flowers blossoming.

Great Shanghai had arrived.

Zhang Sutan Port, once a salt smuggler's private port hidden among the mudflats. Now, the dilapidated fishing harbor had already become the premier large-scale comprehensive port in 17th-century East Asia.

When still a great distance from Zhang Sutan, first-time travelers would see a thin white line on the coast — the seawall.

This was a sturdy seawall built of white stone, extending far into the distance until it vanished from sight, its full length unknown.

In the chaotic ice age of the 17th century, this seawall firmly protected the areas around Shanghai from tidal surges and saltwater intrusion and backflow — a deed of no small merit.

Standing at the bow, Nan Wang's face at this moment was full of proud satisfaction and myriad emotions, no longer showing the cautious restraint of his time in Fuzhou.

Zhou Yi at his side could understand Nan Wang's mood. He knew that Nan Wang was from Hangzhou, not far from Shanghai.

Moreover, as far as Zhou Yi knew: before Nan Wang became the Seventh Section Chief, he had been active in the Jiangnan region for years. In other words, Shanghai was certainly Nan Wang's home base, where he had deep personal connections.

As expected.

The moment Nan Wang's party stepped into the Shanghai Station headquarters, the current Shanghai Station Chief, Master Xiong Dao, came out laughing heartily to greet them. Shaking hands vigorously, Xiong Dao shook his head and said, "Excellent, you've finally made it through, a promotion indeed, Station Chief Nan!"

"I'm ashamed, Station Chief Xiong. I'm just a newly promoted man, don't make fun of me!"

Seeing Master Nan and Xiong Dao interact with such complete familiarity, and recalling his cautiousness in Fuzhou, Zhou Yi instantly confirmed his earlier speculation.

In fact, if one had to assign a faction, Nan Wang was without a doubt a native capable officer belonging to the "Jiangnan Faction."

Ever since the port of Shanghai opened, Nan Wang had been transferred back to the Jiangnan region, and his work affiliation at that time was registered at the Shanghai Station.

In the two or three years that followed, Nan Wang, leveraging his familiarity with the Great Ming's gentry class, his advantage as a native "man of culture," and his advanced espionage skills, played an indelible role and rendered great service in assisting transmigrators like Xiong Dao to break ground in the Jiangnan region.

This was also the reason why the transmigrators of the "Jiangnan Faction" regarded Nan Wang as one of their own.

In fact, Nan Wang's promotion this time also had the implicit recommendation and support of "Jiangnan Faction" big shots like Xiong Dao and Lu Cheng behind it.

So, arriving in Great Shanghai, Nan Wang had truly reached his own territory.

What followed was a genuine welcome reception.

The headquarters compound of the Shanghai Station was inside Zhangsu Port itself, backed by the bustling Shanghai Bund, with all supplies readily available.

Nan Wang's party had truly arrived on home turf this time. The entire crew of the East Guangfu disembarked and, under the banner of an undercover seminar, engaged in collective team-building at public expense, eating and drinking lavishly for three days.

Afterward, everyone stayed in a high-end hotel. Finally, when they slapped their backsides to leave, each person also received a high-end souvenir and a big red envelope (meeting allowance), thoroughly fleecing the imperialist wool.

Four days later, reeking of alcohol and with two sleeves full of gold, the Nanwang team bid farewell to the old leader who had come to see them off, departed Zhangsu Port, and facing the fierce north wind, plunged headlong into the mighty Yangtze River.

But this time, the East Guangfu was not entering the Yangtze alone. Arrayed before and behind the East Guangfu was a fleet of as many as ten civilian merchant vessels.

And to avoid drawing attention, the East Guangfu flew the association flag of a commercial firm subordinate to Shanghai Station.

The fleet traced the great river upstream all the way, passing Nantong, crossing Jiangyin, threading through Zhenjiang. The lingering aftereffects of Grand Commandant Cao's giant ship bombarding the Shanghai Bund back then were still slowly playing out even today. Though the Great Ming authorities along the route grumbled plenty, the river bandits on the Yangtze waterway had nonetheless been wiped out in considerable numbers over these past few years by "enthusiastic, righteous citizens."

Traveling so smoothly the entire way, five days later, the East Guangfu arrived beneath the walls of the ancient capital of six dynasties, Nanjing.