A Dog of Haian

The rainy season. Haizhou was prone to rain. Every year, as temperatures gradually rose, the rains grew increasingly plentiful. With the movement of ocean currents, vast plumes of moist air swept in from the Endless Sea, condensing into frequent rainstorms. And after each downpour, the temperature would climb yet another notch—until the earth was baked to a cracked crust, only to be churned into a quagmire by torrential rains. A relentless cycle. As fierce as the sun beat down and as high as the temperature soared, that was how heavy the rain fell and how damp the air became. One could hardly hope for the blazing sun to disperse the moisture, nor expect the rains to relieve the sweltering heat. Compounding each other, they brought only endless torment, turning the entire world into a gigantic steamer. At times, the impurity levels in the rainwater spiked. Under the resulting acid corrosion, whatever high tech existed out in the wilderness was doomed. Solar panels aged rapidly under the scour of gale-force winds and acid rain; instead, it was the clunky, rudimentary wind turbines that managed to endure the ordeal—at worst requiring a swap of a few blades and bearings. Nor was that all. With the arrival of the rainy season, all of Haizhou entered another period of unrest. Not only were waterlogging and standing water rampant within the cities, but floods and tsunamis beyond city limits grew increasingly frequent. Every summer was a peak disaster period. Inside the cities, things were relatively manageable. Cities across the Federation, large and small, lay under the coverage of the Law of Heavenly Overseer, which suppressed the spread and intensity of disasters to the greatest extent possible. But out in the wilderness beyond the city walls, the reach of the Law of Heavenly Overseer thinned drastically. For the settlements in the wilderness, every summer was a grueling ordeal. Frequent natural disasters were secondary, after all; one could at least prepare in advance. And with the climatic shifts, the heightened activity of numerous calamity beasts was also manageable—if you couldn't take them on, you could at least hide; everyone was well-practiced at fleeing. What was truly terrifying was that as the waters swelled and sea levels rose, the intricate reefs along many of Haizhou's coastal zones would be submerged. Large vessels would be able to bypass past obstacles, moving freely in and out of coastal areas, and even pushing inland along river channels atop the surging torrents... Which meant that the "water ghosts" of the sea were coming ashore! Just as people were divided into ranks and tiers... The ideal of being born equal was beautiful, but reality fell far short. Not only were horses and oxen divided into top, middle, and bottom grades, but these days, even wrongdoings and criminal acts had their own pecking order. In the lawless wilderness beyond order, the outlaws preying on one another were worlds apart. The petty crooks who forced sales, palmed off substandard goods, or simply swindled and extorted in bazaars were engaged in squabbles as childish as toddlers in kindergarten. By contrast, those with a bit more ambition were the highwaymen and bandits who dared pocket a gun and set up checkpoints at mountain passes or wilderness thoroughfares to extort tolls. Crazier still were bandit gangs who were settlement scavengers by day, but by night, every man, woman, and child in the settlement masked their faces, took up arms, and roamed the wasteland in packs, daring to raid even the freight convoys of major cities. Yet no matter how far they went, they still resided within the Federation, harboring a sliver of awe and dread, never daring to cross every line. Unless they brought down catastrophic trouble upon themselves or possessed grand ambitions, hitching rides on smuggler vessels or skiffs out into the boundless sea—diving straight into that hell beneath azure skies and blue waters among the endlessly feuding Thousand Islands! Wars among the city-states had raged for centuries for countless reasons. Life-and-death struggles were beyond reckoning. Under the savage winds and waves of the Endless Sea, untold numbers of desperate outlaws were spawned, carrying out underhanded deeds in broad daylight without a shred of concealment. Among them were wanted criminals who had stirred up trouble in the Federation or the Empire and could no longer survive there; deposed kings and exiled hierophants disgraced in Mid-Continent power struggles; retired soldiers or scoundrels from the navies of the Thousand Islands—or even active escort fleets of certain city-states and federations who simply stripped off their uniforms to earn some extra cash on the side! Almost every rainy season, pirates of all sizes seized the opportunity to raid the Federation's coastal regions for a massive haul. Even if they didn't dare show their faces or approach the major cities of the Federation, the countless settlements scattered across the sprawling wilderness were practically fat sheep to them. Even if you were destitute to the point of soul-stirring misery, didn't you still have your lives? The cheaper human life became, the more valuable a person was. Living or dead, intact or in pieces—everything had a price. Evil deeds had their hierarchy, but straw was straw wherever it lay. Most small settlements had nothing for self-defense beyond a few useless, battered guns, leaving them completely at the mercy of others. Besides, plenty of locals were willing to act as guides— and plenty more were mixed right into their ranks. If they wanted to survive or suffer less exploitation, their only choice was to endure harsh terms and seek shelter under a patron. Naturally, the best solution was to enter a city. Unfortunately, an identification card was a fine thing, but one that many simply did not possess. Every year, what was merely troublesome heat and rainfall for the cities signaled an approaching catastrophe for the settlements beyond. All the more so when the tiny village before Ji Jue right now, numbering barely over a hundred people in total, was unquestionably a fat sheep—and a fat sheep holding treasure or immense wealth at that. The youths might still harbor unrealistic delusions and hopes, but as the settlement's leader, how could the middle-aged man not understand? What they had dug out of the earth was no treasure at all. It was an outright death warrant. Between money and life, one could only choose one. If they wanted both, they could only gamble. Gamble that this overly youthful factory director before him still harbored ambitions to achieve something great. Gamble that he himself would become that horse skeleton bought for a thousand gold pieces. In the brief silence, Ji Jue did not speak. He quietly tapped the raw stone beneath his hand, the crisp echoes reverberating through the quiet garage. Only after a long while did Ji Jue turn back to look at him. "Do you want money or goods?" he asked suddenly. In an instant, as if granted a general pardon, the middle-aged man nearly leaped from his chair, wiping his sweat in sheer ecstasy. "Either works, either works! It's just... just... could we, could we please ask you..." "Haian Industries has indeed been short on hands lately, and recruitment has been ongoing," Ji Jue told him. "If you're interested, you're naturally welcome to sign up. However, hiring here also requires experience and a foundation." "We can learn!" the leader pledged emphatically. "Then you'd be signing a long-term contract?" Ji Jue nodded. "Six months of training, ten years of work. Room and board included. No foundation required, but they must be honest and dutiful, no slacking off or playing tricks, and clean hands. Can you manage that?" "Yes! Absolutely!" The leader's eyes lit up. "I have... over a hundred people here, all young and strong, every one of them honest, dutiful, and ready to endure hardship!" With that, he turned and kicked the young men behind him. "A'nao, A'song, what are you standing there for! Call him Boss!" "H-Hello, Boss!" "Hello, Boss!" The youths, some hesitant, others resolute, bowed their heads submissively. Ji Jue smiled. "Your settlement only has a hundred-odd people in total. Where are you getting over a hundred able-bodied youths?" "They're... they're all relatives and friends, honest folk, all honest folk!" The leader offered a fawning, apologetic smile. "Everyone admires your character, Director Ji, and admires Haian Industries. They're all willing to come, willing to work!" "Whether they're honest or not isn't up to you to say." Ji Jue shot him a sideways glance. "I don't care how they get here, but once the contract is signed, how they're managed won't be up to you either. Understand?" "Understood! Understood!!!" Delight written all over his face, the leader nodded repeatedly. He didn't even ask how much money or goods Ji Jue was willing to pay; none of that was the main point anymore, nor would it be a pittance. The key was that once these hundred-odd people signed contracts with Haian, they could naturally stay in Xinquan. And at the same time, wouldn't their families and relatives be able to settle down alongside them? Space might be tight, but couldn't they squeeze together? Among all the settlements across the wilderness of Haizhou, Xinquan was certainly not the largest, but when it came to where held the greatest prospects, where else could compare to Xinquan, which held a monopoly over the massive prize of the Quancheng ruins? There was an art even to latching onto a backer and playing the lapdog. If you were going to cling to a thigh, you clung to the thickest one; if you were going to be a dog, you had to be a dog for the wealthiest master. Once you became a dog for Haian, what fear was there of ever suffering the hardships of the wilderness again?! "Discounted acquisition price: four million." Ji Jue gave the raw stone a final pat, then turned to tell the accountant, "No need to sign training loan agreements. Open a four-million credit line for factory products—whatever they want, let them pick it out themselves." Having said that, he glanced back at the still-beaming middle-aged man. This time, before Ji Jue could finish speaking, the middle-aged man had already pulled a slip of paper from his pocket—already signed and stamped with fingerprints—and presented it with both hands. The paper stated in black and white: Out of gratitude for Haian Industries' consistent, selfless aid and charity, this raw stone is gifted unconditionally to Haian for use as rockery decoration. He had prepared it long in advance. Contracts in the wilderness were less useful than toilet paper. Since he was offering tribute, he might as well make it crystal clear—why bother putting on pretense? Ji Jue lowered his gaze, staring at the slip presented right before his eyes. His brow arched slightly. He looked once more at the man, whose face blended honesty with fawning deference. From start to finish, he had actually had a choice... Several millions or tens of millions—such a sum could be an astronomical fortune at times, or utterly meaningless at others. If spent on the settlement, it was a drop in the bucket. But if used on himself, it was more than enough to reinvent his identity, start anew, establish a respectable business in the city, and live as an elite, free from worries over food and clothing. Was he truly devoted to his settlement, unwilling to betray everyone's hopes? Or did he prefer to be the head of a chicken rather than the tail of a phoenix, seizing this chance to gamble on climbing higher? Ji Jue found it hard to tell. Yet regardless of the answer, it made no difference to him. Glancing at the slip, Ji Jue chuckled softly, took it, and suddenly asked, "What's your name?" "I... I..." The middle-aged man blinked, his eager smile flushing red with excitement. "My surname is Gou. My given name isn't worth mentioning. I'm the second-born. You can just call me Old Gou or Gou the Second." "Then register Old Gou. The shantytown next to the factory has been getting rowdier lately, and it's short a manager. Let's see what you're capable of." Ji Jue waved a hand and departed with the forklift and the raw stone. In the silence, Lu Feng, who had been smoking and picking at his foot while watching the commotion from the sidelines, chuckled, patted his shoulder, and turned to leave as well. That left only Yan Jian and the accountant. At that moment, Engineer Yan's smile remained as he looked toward Gou Er. "Shall we handle the handover, then?" "Yes, of course, of course." Gou Er wiped his hands on his clothes before shaking hands warmly. As they shook, he discreetly slipped a heavy little pouch into Yan Jian's palm. "I'm new here, so please guide me along." "We're all our own people here, easy enough." Yan Jian smiled as well. Though he didn't care much for it, he didn't push the pouch back. This little bit didn't even match his daily dividends. "Alright, no need to dawdle over pleasantries." He handed over a list. "I'll take you to collect the money in a bit—bank transfer or gold, whichever you like. The goods are all on here. Have a look and pick." Gou Er held his breath.