MLMD -Chapter 419 Circumstances Are Stronger Than People

“One–two–one… one–two–one…”

A squad of neatly formed new recruits ran across the docks, shouting cadence as they went. Every one of them wore a green short jacket (T‑shirt), with a thirty‑jin pack strapped to their back. Their shirts were completely soaked through with sweat.

“Attention! Target: Pier Number Three ahead. Once you reach the destination, you may rest for half an hour!”
At the instructor’s command, fatigue vanished from the recruits’ faces, replaced by excitement. Everyone squeezed out their remaining strength and charged forward.

Hai Laoda was among them. Today marked more than forty days since he had enlisted. From the fear and anxiety of the beginning to gritting his teeth and pushing on now, Hai Laoda was in the midst of transforming from a fisherman into a soldier. As long as he endured the three‑month recruit training period, he would become an official member of the Weihai Guard Navy. Still, he seriously doubted whether he could last those full three months.

“Move it! Faster! What—did you all skip breakfast this morning?”
The instructor’s vicious shouts rang out again.

Watching the fierce, menacing instructors pacing beside the recruits, the craftsmen and passersby nearby all clicked their tongues in amazement. A peddler who had just arrived in Weihai Guard, carrying a shoulder pole, complained to a middle‑aged vegetable seller beside him:

“No wonder the old saying goes, ‘A good man doesn’t become a soldier; good iron isn’t made into nails.’ From what I see, being a soldier means tying your head to your belt and doing work where you lick blood off a blade. Risking your life in battle is one thing, but even in peacetime they get trained like this by their officers. That’s no life for a human!”

The vegetable seller rolled his eyes at him and said disdainfully, “Kid, don’t mock them. With your scrawny build, even if you wanted to enlist, they might not take you. See that? They’re all sturdy young fellows. With your frame, you’d probably get kicked out in less than ten days—save the navy from feeding you for nothing.”

“Kicked out?” The peddler bristled and thumped his chest. “I’m only thirty this year. With a build like mine, carrying a fifty‑jin load for several hours is no problem. If I wanted to enlist, those officers would be overjoyed!”

“Overjoyed?” The vegetable seller snorted, looked him up and down, and shook his head. “Not that I look down on you, but try carrying a thirty‑jin pack while running twenty li, then swim three li in the sea. After that, you can talk.”

“I…”

The peddler fell silent, mouth open but unable to reply. After a moment, he muttered resentfully, “What’s the use of training so hard? You’re still just eating a last‑meal-before-execution.”

“Tch…” The vegetable seller looked at him with contempt. “They get two taels of silver a month plus two dou of white rice. These days, plenty of people want to eat that ‘last meal’ and can’t even get it.”

“What? Two taels of silver a month and two dou of rice?” The peddler cried out in shock. He couldn’t stay calm anymore. Running around the streets all month, if luck was good he might earn one tael of silver; if luck was bad, only a few hundred copper coins. Yet these soldiers earned two taels of silver a month plus rice—what a comfortable life!

“What—jealous now?” Seeing his astonished look, the vegetable seller chuckled and was about to say more, when the peddler suddenly hoisted his pole and strode off. The vegetable seller shouted after him, “Hey, peddler, where are you going?”

From afar came the reply: “I’m going to see if the navy’s still recruiting…”

“Hu… hu… hu…”

Hai Laoda panted heavily as he ran. The thirty‑jin pack on his back felt like a small mountain, pressing him so hard he could barely straighten up. His lungs burned as if they were on fire.

“No, I can’t fall. Even if I’m going to fall, it’ll be after I reach the destination!”

He encouraged himself while glancing at his companions. Everyone around him was in about the same state, gritting their teeth and holding on. Quite a few had already collapsed along the way, but their comrades behind them helped them up and kept running toward the goal.

There was a bloody lesson behind this. Hai Laoda had personally seen another squad of recruits leave several stragglers behind during a loaded cross‑country run. When they reached the destination, the instructors severely punished them—no one in the entire squad got any food that day. The instructor had said that those who abandoned their comrades halfway would abandon them on the battlefield as well. Such behavior was the most despised of all. In the end, the instructor summed it up in six words:

“Do not abandon. Do not give up!”

Hai Laoda silently repeated the words the instructor had taught them, summoning every last ounce of strength and charging forward. When their squad finally reached the finish line, everyone collapsed onto the ground. Hardly anyone could still move.

In a corner they hadn’t noticed, Guo Jingxian and several officers were quietly observing them.

A company commander looked at the recruits sprawled all over the ground and said with a smile, “Boss Guo, this batch of recruits isn’t bad, right?”

“Mm, they’re not bad—good seedlings,” Guo Jingxian nodded calmly. “But this is the navy. Physical strength and willpower are just the basics. Next, we still have to turn them all into real water devils. They’ve got a lot to learn—swimming, handling sails, steering, operating artillery, and learning how to use the sextant. There’s simply too much to learn.”

“Yeah—far too much,” the company commander sighed. Then a look of admiration crossed his face. “Boss Guo, where did Marquis Yue get this thing from anyway? We’ve spent our whole lives at sea relying on the stars to find our bearings. Since we got the sextant, all it takes is one measurement and some calculations, and we don’t have to worry about getting lost anymore. The only problem is—it’s too damn hard to use. After measuring, you still have to calculate a whole pile of stuff to figure out where you are. It’s practically murderous.”

At that, everyone nodded in heartfelt agreement. The principle behind the sextant seemed simple, but determining one’s position required calculations and some mathematical knowledge. For people who could barely recognize a handful of characters, this was worse than killing them. Many had practically shed a layer of skin just to grasp how to use it.

Because Yue Yang desperately lacked people skilled in naval warfare, he allowed Guo Jingxian to recruit his former companions to rebuild the Weihai Guard Navy. Yue Yang also established a Weihai Guard Naval Academy, dedicated to training naval officers. Yue Yang himself served as the academy’s headmaster, with Guo Jingxian as deputy.

Guo Jingxian understood Yue Yang’s purpose perfectly—and accepted it. In the end, the officers trained there would eventually share his authority. Even knowing this, he couldn’t say a word against it. After all, he would do the same. No one would hand over a navy built with enormous resources entirely to one person, no matter how trustworthy that person might be.

“Peeeep—peeeep—peeeep—”

A long, sharp whistle sounded. The recruits resting on the docks immediately surged toward the source of the sound. In less than a minute, everyone had formed more than a dozen long lines. In front of them stood several long tables. Buckets of steaming white rice were carried out, and over a hundred cooks wearing the same green shirts ladled food for the recruits. Each recruit queued up with an aluminum lunchbox and a spoon.

The meals were simple: a big scoop of rice, half a scoop of greens, and some tofu, potatoes, and fatty pork. The pork was truly fatty—one bite and grease ran down your mouth. The pork fat and lard had been brought by Yue Yang from the modern era. In modern times, with nutrition in excess, most people avoided such high‑fat, high‑calorie foods. But in this age of widespread malnutrition, they were the most beloved items, something many people tasted only during the New Year.

“Urp…”

After finishing the last piece of fatty pork, Hai Laoda couldn’t help letting out a satisfied belch. He then staggered over to a massive boiling soup barrel nearly half a man tall, scooped half a ladle of broth, and drank it together with the leftover rice in his lunchbox. For recruits from poor backgrounds, wasting food was shameful and unforgivable. Every lunchbox, after a meal, was licked clean—like a dog had gone at it.

After putting away his lunchbox, Hai Laoda found a relatively flat stone, leaned against it, and closed his eyes to rest. Nearly all the recruits around him did the same. They knew that in half an hour, those perpetually stern, vicious instructors would drive them up again for more inhuman training. Any chance to rest was precious, and after so many days of training, no one wasted it.

Just as Hai Laoda was drifting toward sleep, he seemed to hear footsteps approaching. A familiar voice sounded beside him:

“Hai Laoda… Hai Laoda!”

“What is it?” Hai Laoda didn’t even lift his head, replying lazily.

The speaker was Liu Laizi, Hai Laoda’s childhood playmate. He had followed Hai Laoda to Weihai Guard on the third day after Hai Laoda joined the new army and had been assigned to the same recruit squad.

“Hai Laoda, have you heard? Marquis Yue is building a naval academy here, just to train naval officers. Anyone who gets into that school will be incredible! Stay there two years, and when you come out you’ll be at least a gun captain or a third mate!”

Since following Hai Laoda into the army and eating from the communal pot—and with the generous rations lately—Liu Laizi’s once sallow face had grown ruddy, his spirits much improved.

Seeing Liu Laizi’s animated expression, Hai Laoda helplessly cut off his dream. “You? A third mate? A gun captain? Are you still asleep?”

“Who says!” Liu Laizi bristled. “Who knows—maybe I really could get into that naval academy!”

“It’s called a school, not an academy,” Hai Laoda corrected him.

“Same thing. School or academy—it’s all for studying,” Liu Laizi waved it off, then continued encouraging him. “Hai Laoda, I know you’ve been smart since you were little. Even though you never went to school, you studied with Old Master Geng for a while, didn’t you? You may not be amazing, but writing a letter home shouldn’t be a problem. I think you should give this a try. You’ve got nothing to lose. Worst case, you don’t get in and come back to being a regular soldier. But if you do get in… hehe… you’ll really make it big.”

Truth be told, Liu Laizi’s words did stir Hai Laoda. As he said, Hai Laoda had studied briefly with the village’s old scholar when he was young. He didn’t know many characters, but he could manage a letter. Since they were recruiting students, he might as well try. There was nothing to lose. And if by some chance he got in, then after one or two years graduating from the naval school, even the lowest outcome would be a junior officer. In these times, any official rank was different—something you could boast about with pride.

Still, Hai Laoda was a steady man. Though tempted, he didn’t show it, silently weighing the pros and cons.

Just as Hai Laoda was pondering whether to apply to the naval school, Fan Wencheng—who had suffered a rebuff from Yue Yang—returned to Shengjing in disgrace and reported his experience at Weihai Guard to Dorgon. After hearing the report, Dorgon fell into deep silence. After a long while, he asked:

“Did Yue Yang really say that?”

Fan Wencheng replied respectfully, “Reporting to Your Majesty—Yue Yang indeed said so.”

It was morning court, and all the Manchu ministers present naturally heard the report. Many faces filled with anger. Dodo immediately stepped forward and shouted:

“Your Majesty, that Yue Yang is going too far! I, your unworthy servant, am willing to lead thirty thousand troops to wipe out the Khorchin tribe and give Yue Yang a lesson!”

Before Dodo’s words had fully fallen, Hong Taiji—no, Hōge—standing beside him, spoke without even lifting his eyelids:

“Prince De‑yu truly has great skill. Clearly it’s Yue Yang who provoked our Great Qing, yet you want to vent your anger on the Khorchin tribe. Are you playing a feint to the east and attack in the west?”

“You—!”

Dodo nearly spat blood. After Dorgon ascended the throne, he naturally favored his own brother and close ally, quickly promoting him from Prince Yu to Prince De‑yu of the First Rank. Hōge had long been displeased with this and seized the chance to mock him. That “feint to the east” jab was venomous—practically accusing Dodo of bullying the weak and fearing the strong.

Grinding his teeth, Dodo shouted at Hōge, “Prince Su, are you saying I’m afraid to die?”

Hōge rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that. Who’s who—everyone knows.”

“Looking for death!” Dodo, hot‑tempered as ever, spun around, grabbed Hōge by the collar, and was about to punch him. Hōge showed no fear at all.

“Come on! Hit me! Right here! If you don’t dare, you’re no man!”

“You think I don’t dare?” Dodo clenched his jaw and was about to throw the punch when others rushed in to stop him. Though Dodo was Dorgon’s brother, Hōge was not without supporters. His father, Hong Taiji, had left him a faction—Ao Bai of the Plain White Banner, Tan Tai of the Plain White Banner, Sonin, and others immediately stepped in to block Dodo. Dodo’s own allies also surged forward, afraid he’d suffer. In an instant, the great hall descended into chaos.

Seeing the hall turn into a marketplace, Dorgon was so angry he nearly vomited blood. He suddenly stood up, grabbed a glass paperweight from the dragon desk, and smashed it to the ground with a sharp crash. Only then did everyone fall quiet.

Dorgon roared, “What do you think you’re doing? Do you know where this is? This is the Chongzheng Hall—the place where the Great Qing’s ministers discuss state affairs! Not a place for brawling! If you really want to fight, make an appointment outside the city. Kill each other until rivers of blood flow—I won’t care! If you all die, the world will be quiet!”

Seeing that Dorgon was truly enraged, Dodo said aggrievedly, “Your Majesty… it wasn’t this servant—”

“Shut up!” Dorgon cut him off. “As Prince De‑yu of the First Rank, you should set an example. Look at yourself—throwing punches at every turn. Do you have any dignity of a prince? Since you love fighting so much, I might as well send you outside Jinzhou to fight the Ming army to the death!”

“And you, Hōge!” Dorgon turned on him. “You and Dodo—one Prince De‑yu, one Prince Su—both descendants of the founding emperor. You should support each other, yet you constantly sneer and mock. Ask yourself—do you look like a prince?”

Hearing Dorgon’s rebuke, a cold smile flickered across Hōge’s lips as he was about to speak. Sonin shot him a stern look, stopping him. Hōge suddenly remembered—times were no longer what they had been. The man on the throne was no longer his father, Hong Taiji, but Dorgon, the mortal enemy who had once hated him to the bone. If he dared to argue in the throne hall, Dorgon might truly order the guards to seize him on the spot. Even if he didn’t die, he’d be skinned alive.

With that thought, Hōge reluctantly cupped his hands and said, “Reporting to Your Majesty, this servant was indeed impulsive just now. I beg Your Majesty’s pardon.”

“Hmph… so you know you were impulsive,”
Dorgon snorted. After thinking for a moment, he sat back down.

Once seated, Dorgon asked again, “Returning to the matter at hand—what are your views on what Minister Fan just reported?”

At this, the hall fell silent once more. After lengthy deliberation, they finally decided to accept Yue Yang’s conditions.

There was no choice—circumstances were stronger than people.