Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Chapter 46 Cleaning

The group quickly boarded the ship.

"Chinamen! How dare you fucking do that?!"

A roar, filled with shock, anger, and disbelief, came from the stern of the ship.

The captain of the pig-shaped boat strode over angrily. He was a white man, about fifty years old, with gray hair, who roared in Chinese:

"Where's Cai Pei? Where's Sun Tianbao? They dared to kill my men on my ship! Is this how those two sons of bitches manage their subordinates?!"

"Cai Pei? Sun Tianbao? They've been prisoners for a long time."

Jian Yuan revealed a strange smile, his voice icy: "And you bunch of scum will soon face your judgment."

"Trial? What the hell are you talking about?!"

Before the white captain could react, a suicide soldier's revolver was already pointed at his head.

At the same time, the other suicide bombers also kept their guns firmly locked on the remaining white sailors on the deck.

"Behave yourselves and don't move, or I can't guarantee your safety."

The white captain, trying to appear calm, said, "Chinese folks, do you know whose ship this is? It belongs to a true British nobleman, a distinguished viscount!"

"If you dare to do something like this today, no one in San Francisco can protect you! Put down your guns now, and I can pretend this was a misunderstanding!"

Jian Yuan scoffed, "Viscount? If you say another word, even the Duke won't be able to save your lives."

He ignored the pale-faced captain, turned around, and looked at the group of women huddled together on the other side of the deck, looking frightened and bewildered.

Jianyuan softened his tone: "Don't be afraid, I'm here to rescue you. Get off the boat first, and someone will take you to Chinatown. There's food, drink, and a doctor there, so you can get some rest."

Hearing this, they became even more frightened.

But seeing the fierce appearance of the assassins around him, he could only weep and sob as he walked off the deck.

As they walked, they suddenly began to stagger and lose their balance, unable to even stand. Some collapsed to the ground, feeling nauseous.

Jianyuan scratched his head, somewhat puzzled, and asked Hongwu beside him in a low voice, "Am I that scary? They were crying so hard they were shaking?"

Hongwu glanced at him and said irritably, "What are you thinking about? You're seasick."

After being at sea for so long, the body gets used to the swaying, and suddenly stepping onto still land can be disorienting, causing dizziness and weakness.

"As for crying, it's probably because they're afraid of being sold into brothels and becoming prostitutes."

"That girl who jumped into the sea to commit suicide just now, it must have been for the same reason."

Jian Yuan sighed and cursed, "Damn the Xieyi Hall! If you ask me, we should have just killed them all back then!"

"Alright, Jianyuan, send some men to take them back and hand them over to Li Shizhen and the others." Hongwu patted him on the shoulder. "There's still one more pig boat to deal with. We need to finish this quickly."

Jianyuan asked, "What about these foreigners? Should we shoot them now?"

Hongwu glanced at the sailors on the deck, then looked at the white men who were peering out from the distance on the dock, and said, "Killing them all now would be too much of a commotion, and it would be troublesome to dispose of the bodies. It would also be difficult to cover up the situation with Hosea."

First, knock them all unconscious, tie their hands and feet tightly with strong ropes, stuff rags in their mouths, and then lock them in the cabin. We'll sail the ship out of the harbor tonight, and then just throw them overboard.

"Hey, Chinamen, you can't do this! This is murder! God won't forgive you!"

The white captain, who understood Chinese, was terrified and struggled to escape and call for help.

But the next second, he was struck hard on the back of the head, let out a muffled groan, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

The other suicide bombers did the same, using gun butts, knife handles, or simply their fists and feet to knock the foreign sailors unconscious on the deck.

After tying up the group of people and throwing them into the stinking cabin, leaving a few people to guard them, Hongwu and Jianyuan disembarked and headed towards the pig boats moored at the dock some distance away.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the piglet ship, Captain Rocks was leisurely holding a brass monocular telescope, watching the grand spectacle unfolding in the distance.

"My God, when did those Qing Dynasty gangsters get so bold? Daring to shoot and kill people on the docks in broad daylight?"

"Jack, look! That Chinaman's pointing a gun at that old bastard Hope's head. Shoot him! Shoot him dead! I've had my hated that scum for ages!"

First Mate Jack, seeing his captain's state, sighed and said, "Captain, let's not worry about Captain Hope for now. We still have our own troubles to deal with."

"That bastard Chen Jinkui, I don't know what's wrong with him. The ship has been docked for almost two hours, and he still hasn't sent anyone over."

Lockes put down his binoculars and said nonchalantly, "What's there to be afraid of? Jack, my old friend, you have to be flexible in business. If the people from Yixingtang don't come, can't we just sell it ourselves?"

"A few hundred Chinese men—if we contact those railway and mining companies that desperately need manpower, we can make a fortune in no time, and we won't even have to share with those idiots at Yixingtang."

Jack paused for a moment: "Are they selling tickets to those who already bought them?"

Lox didn't care: "Why not? Since no one from Chinatown is coming to meet us, who knows if they're alive or dead? The more goods we can exchange for money, the better, isn't it?"

He paused, then chuckled, "If any Chinese people come asking later, just say that unfortunately, they died of illness while crossing the Pacific, and their bodies were buried at sea. Who can verify that?"

Jack nodded upon hearing this: "Alright, Captain, I'll do as you say. I'll go to the telegraph office later and send a telegram to ask the railroad company and the mining company."

Lockes picked up his binoculars again and glanced at Hope's ship, then suddenly froze: "Huh? Where are those Chinese guys on Hope's ship? Why is the deck so empty?"

Jack patted his captain on the shoulder and pointed to a spot not far away.

"Captain, they look like they're coming towards us."

Looking in that direction, Lockes saw the group of Chinese men approaching quickly from not far from his ship.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, on the other side...

After a headcount, the 276 women on the ship were separated and squeezed into 20 horse-drawn carriages, and were taken to Chinatown.

In one of the carriages, Ying Jie held the unconscious Zhu Zhenyi, her eyes reddening, and murmured softly, "Silly sister, live on. If you die here, your soul won't be able to return home, and you won't be able to see your parents."

The rumbling of the train wheels outside the carriage suddenly stopped, and then the doors on both sides of the carriage were pulled open.

The women shrank back as they disembarked from the carriage. They had expected to find themselves in a brothel, but when they looked up in bewilderment and saw what lay before them, they were all stunned.

The brothel-like buildings that were expected to be gaudy and ominous did not appear.

What came into view was a rather sturdy-looking building, about ten feet long and three stories high. On both sides of the building were auxiliary buildings of the same size and structure, perpendicular to it.

The three buildings form a U-shape, enclosing a spacious, flat area.

On the flat ground was a group of women of similar age to them. They were all dressed in clean, dark blue coarse cloth clothes, and their faces were covered with white cotton masks, revealing only their eyes.

A middle-aged man with a lean face stood at the front. When he saw the carriage coming, he said loudly, "Ladies, don't panic. This is not a brothel or a place of entertainment. This is a clinic and teaching facility in Chinatown."

"We are all doctors, and we have been ordered to be here to receive and treat you."

As they were talking, eight more men quickly walked out of the main building. They were all dressed as Han Chinese doctors, some carrying medicine boxes and others carrying pulse pillows.

Li Shizhen didn't waste any more time; time was of the essence. He glanced at the group of ravaged women before him and quickly began assigning tasks.

"Cuihua," he called out.

One of the women wearing white cotton cloth stepped out; she had a graceful figure and replied, "Teacher."

"Go to the infirmary and get an alcohol spray bottle. Spray them with alcohol to disinfect them first."

"Yes, teacher."

"Su'e, take that unconscious woman to her bedside."

Li Shizhen then pointed to Ying Jie and Zhu Zhenyi in the crowd, "Never mind, take both of them with you, so her sister won't worry."

Yes, teacher.

The medical staff acted swiftly and got to work.

Soon, a dozen heavy metal barrels, about half a person's height and painted green, were carried out by pairs of people.

These barrels have air pumps and valves on top, connected to long, flexible rubber tubes, at the end of which is a brass nozzle and a leather pressure balloon.

This is a simple spraying device hastily made by the engineering team using existing materials according to Li Shizhen's requirements.

The barrel contains high-concentration alcohol, purified by distillation from potatoes and grains, with a small amount of sulfur and herbal extracts added to enhance its disinfection and insect-repelling effects.

The 24 nurses worked in groups of three, with two holding the bucket and the other responsible for pressing and spraying.

They approached the group of bewildered women and said gently, "It will hurt a little, but bear with it; it's the way they're expelling the plague!"

After saying that, mist sprayed out of the nozzles and fell on the group of women.

"ah!!"

"It hurts! It hurts so much!"

"Mother!"

The women remained silent, but soon began to grimace and even cry out in pain.

The burning and stinging pain caused by high concentrations of alcohol on their skin, which was covered in countless wounds, was far beyond what most people could imagine.

This even caused many people to burst into tears, squatting on the ground and calling out for their parents.

"Sister Cuihua, should we stop?" A woman beside her couldn't bear to see it happen.

"Keep going! They say it's to drive away the plague, but getting them completely clean is for their own good. Spray all the alcohol in here!"

Then, they were helped and led one by one to the small table in front of the doctors.

Nine physicians were already in place, and after examining the patient's health through observation, listening, questioning, and palpation, they wrote out prescriptions.

"These are mostly symptoms of scabies, eczema, and lice infestation, accompanied by severe deficiency of qi and blood, and weakness of the spleen and stomach. They are relatively easy to treat. Use Sophora flavescens, Phellodendron chinense, Cnidium monnieri... decoct them into a soup for external washing, and take the Four Gentlemen Decoction with modifications internally to strengthen the body and consolidate the foundation."

Li Shizhen muttered to himself, then asked without turning his head, "Zhongjing, what about you over there?"

Zhang Zhongjing slowly said, "That's pretty much true. However, there are also quite a few cases of external wind-cold, cough, and diarrhea. Their constitutions are too weak, so the medicine needs to be administered very gently to avoid them being unable to tolerate the tonics."

While the women waited and received treatment, Cuihua directed someone to bring in steaming hot rice porridge. It was cooked until very soft and easy to digest, with a touch of salt added.

The contents were served in small wooden bowls, along with a bowl of warm water, and then handed to each woman one by one.

"Drink some water first, then slowly drink the porridge. Don't rush, there's plenty for you," the nurses gently reassured them.

Many women held the warm bowls of porridge, stunned for a long while, before tears suddenly streamed down their faces.

Only now did they dare to believe that the people in front of them were not bad people.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

1. Inside the two-story brick building of the Customs Administration in the port area.

Although the dull gunshot was weakened by the sea breeze, the unique explosion was still clearly audible to the veteran who had spent years distinguishing various unusual sounds at the noisy dock.

In his office on the second floor, James Holland, a customs inspector who was smoking a cigar and reviewing a list of imported rum, paused and frowned.

"Pier 7? Damn, could it be a gang shootout or a sailors' brawl that resulted in someone dying?"

Frustrated, Holland left his office, gathered his four inspectors, and headed to the docks.

But as soon as they turned a corner, they found that the road leading to the dock had been blocked by a group of people.

"Who are you?" Holland narrowed his eyes, his hand touching the holster at his waist.

"Can't you tell? San Francisco police."

One of the men pointed to the bronze badge on his chest and said, "We received a report of a murder up ahead, so we've taken over the area and sealed it off."

"Police? Takeover? Damn, I actually heard both words at the same time!"

Holland was stunned. After all, the corruption and inefficiency of the San Francisco police were notorious throughout California. They usually waited until the body was completely cold and the murderer had vanished before leisurely showing up at the scene.

The inspectors behind him couldn't help but let out a few suppressed snickers.

He shrugged, a "do whatever you want" look on his face, and took his hand off his holster: "Alright, since you're in charge, my brothers and I will call it a day."

Although federal law stipulates that cases at the docks must be investigated and handled by customs officials, in practice, who the hell cares about that?

With so many ships and so many people every day, all sorts of frictions, fights, thefts, and frauds are rampant. Who can keep up?

He'd only intervene if someone paid him; otherwise, he'd pretend he didn't see anything. He was more than happy to have the police take on such troublesome cases.

The police officer watched them leave, then turned to his companion and said, "Later, have Jianyuan and the others release one of the crew members, pin the blame on him, and then we'll kill him on charges of 'attempting to escape and violently resisting arrest.'"

His companion nodded slightly, then raised a concern: "There are still quite a few white laborers and sailors watching the commotion near the dock. How are we going to deal with them?"

"They may have seen what happened before, and I'm afraid they might talk about it and attract the attention of customs or other forces."

The police operative replied, "Bring them back to the police station as witnesses, then kill them all on the grounds of sudden death."

"We've also infiltrated customs; we can manage to blend in for a while."

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P.S.: I've seen quite a few people complaining, is the protagonist's name really that hard to pronounce?

If you think it needs to be changed, post it here.

I think it's unnecessary to post 2 here.