Chapter 76: The Land So Fair

Unlike the jumbled silver coins, the only two chests of gold bars in the warehouse were largely uniform, their dull luster shifting as they sat neatly stacked.

These two chests of gold bars felt very familiar; it seemed someone had seen this style back in Hangzhou. At that moment, some trivia fanatic popped up out of nowhere again: "The gold-silver exchange ratio in the Great Ming is about 1:8, while in Europe during the same period it's 1:1, so the White-Skins have been arbitraging Ming gold for years. And Japan's gold has been arbitraged the same way."

Oh! Now everyone understood.

No one could say exactly how many taels of silver the coins in the Silver Vault were worth. Even after Cai Feiming found the Dutch ledgers, the exact figure remained unclear, because this Silver Vault also held the private savings of some East India Company employees — money that would never appear in the official accounts.

Still, the total amount could be roughly estimated on the spot. After simply weighing one chest of silver coins, Wang Liguo cross-checked with Cai Feiming against the Dutch ledgers, then announced to the crowd: the precious metals in the warehouse, converted to Great Ming silver prices, were certainly worth over 0 taels — no less, only more!

A burst of eager applause and whistles erupted from the Silver Vault. The bandits walked out of the official residence thoroughly satisfied, smiling as they stepped over the blood-soaked ground, chatting as they climbed onto the enclosing wall and stood atop the fort at the northeast corner. Facing the salty sea wind, their gazes crossed the shallow Taijiang Inner Sea, gazing far toward the main island of Taiwan.

The setting sun slanted westward; the clamorous shores of the Taijiang gradually fell into silence.

The vast lagoon and wetlands spread out along the coast, where large flocks of spoonbills, stork-cranes, and pelicans strolled through the lagoon. The setting sun split through the clouds and shone down, dyeing the water's surface a sheet of gold. As time passed, the sky cooperated with the setting sun, shifting colors: orange, pink, purple — the gradient sky mirrored the black-and-white waterbirds, the shattered-gold water surface, the pale-blue shallow sea, and the mangrove forest along the shore. A breathtakingly beautiful primeval scroll, an ink-and-color landscape painting, unfolded before the Transmigrators.

"The land so fair, so fair indeed," Xia Xianze, now drunk with delight, clapped his hands and sighed.

"This lake is my family's, my family's, all my family's," Feng Jun licked his lips and muttered greedily to himself.

The remaining people were all annoyed. A Northerner standing nearby shook his leg, drawled out his words, and shot back at him: "Got the deed? How come it feels like my family's to me?"

Feng Jun snapped to his senses, turned his head, and found several people glancing sideways at him. He hastily hid his true face, let out an awkward laugh: "Shared, all shared — brothers, we'll all be living in Sanya in the future, this side is all shared!"

"Hmph, that's more like it."

And so, that historic day came to an end.

Accompanied by a sky full of stars, the exhausted invaders entered dreamland early, and they slept very soundly. Inside the warehouse, however, some people remained sleepless all night. Regrettably, no one cared about them anymore now.

On the two diagonal forts, northeast and southwest, Transmigrators wearing night vision devices patrolled the new territory. The advance of technology had turned any hostile action attempted under cover of night into actively seeking death.

At dawn, when the eastern horizon slowly turned the pale white of a fish's belly, the Dayuan Trading Post was already a scene of clamor. The terrifying work-rest schedule of the medieval era had once made certain Transmigrators who had newly arrived in this land wish they were dead: no electricity at night, no internet — even if you turned on a laptop, there was no Taobao to browse. Besides, everyone's battery usage had a quota; it was only enough to occasionally look up some data, not even enough for single-player games.

Yet where there is loss, there is gain. After living in the Ming Dynasty for a while, the benefits slowly revealed themselves: no more neurasthenia, no more reversed days and nights — sleepy as soon as it got dark, up as soon as it got light, rosy complexion, greatly increased appetite, vigorous spirit, one-three-five-seven times a night...

The laborers were the first to enter working mode: work at sunrise — no work, no food. Early in the morning, a chaotic crowd first arrived at the dock. The old-style dock the Dutch had built with logs was still of decent quality. The two Sand Ships had already passed through the channel yesterday evening and were moored at the dock; on the sand beside them lay the wrecked remains of that battered sampan.

The laborers opened the cabin door of the Dog Eye. A few men went down and first handed up some cargo that hadn't been fully unloaded yesterday. These goods were dumped on the deck on the spot. Next, two Type 04 stainless steel cauldrons, each a full meter in diameter, were carried off the ship to the rhythm of shouted chants.

By now, stoves had already been set up in the open space at the center of the trading post. Both stoves were built from a kind of black-yellow, square stones the size of a human head. The laborers skillfully set up the cauldrons, boiled water, and poured the washed rice in. Into one of the large cauldrons went some deer meat jerky and salt from the Dutch warehouse; into the other went salted fish and dried vegetables stored on the ship.

By the time some Transmigrators leisurely strolled out smoking their morning cigarettes, the steaming deer meat congee was already cooked. After the masters finished eating, the two large cauldrons still couldn't rest — several more rounds of salted fish rice still had to be cooked. Several hundred people, Red Hairs included, all had to eat their fill. Who would work if they weren't full?

All daily necessities left behind by the Dutch, including clothes, bedding, pots, pans, and basins, would be disinfected today by designated personnel. Most items would be boiled in water for 0 minutes; some items unable to withstand high temperatures would be soaked in % bleaching powder solution, also for 0 minutes. These items, along with the bunks in the barracks, would be distributed to the laborers from Hangzhou. As for their original owners — ahem, isn't it better to stay alive?

While the laborers were still waiting for their meal, the masters, who worried themselves sick over everything, had already gathered on the fort where they had admired the view yesterday, and were once again fretting over the Japanese across the Taijiang!

Starting to scheme against the opposite shore so early in the morning seemed a bit impatient, yet the reality was: they were out of water.

Dayuan Island, strictly speaking, is a sandbar isolated in the sea. The well the Dutch had dug inside the trading post had already been tested by the logistics personnel yesterday — it was brackish water. Just like in Hangzhou, the salt content of the well water here fluctuated unpredictably; it could only be used for washing and rinsing.

The Dutch, not being under siege, naturally wouldn't drink salt water. They normally used boats to haul water from the upper and middle reaches of the Xingang Creek on the opposite shore. Moreover, the Dutch had taken their water source very seriously: the trading post's enclosing wall used clay, the buildings used wood, but the water cellar alone was built of stone. The most urgent task at hand was replenishing the water supply, which again involved those ships that had escaped yesterday. The ships were all moored on the opposite shore of the Taijiang, where a small dock had been built.

Liu Zhe was observing the opposite shore through binoculars. Through the lenses, he could clearly see: following a road, about 500 meters inland from the dock, there stood a stockade with bamboo-and-wood walls. There was no banner on the wall, but human figures were moving about.

"Looks like it's the Japanese stockade, no doubt about it." Liu Zhe put away his binoculars, turned his head, and said to Xia Xianze, who was standing beside him.

"Why so far from the shore — because of the tides?" Xia E, also holding binoculars, was observing at that moment.