noffsinger Chapter 4 Entering the Town
Chapter 4 Entering the Town
Lin Mo walked along the bluestone slabs toward the dock. The closer he got to the river, the stronger the dampness and the mixed smell of goods in the air became.
The noise grew louder and louder, with the shouts of porters, the cries of boatmen, the scolding of overseers, and the rumble of wheels rolling over the ground, all blending together into a busy and rough symphony of the docks.
The docks are more spacious than the town center, with piers stretching into the river like the tentacles of a giant beast, where cargo ships and passenger ships of various sizes are moored.
The laborers, shirtless and revealing their bronze or dark skin, their muscles bulging, carried heavy sacks and wooden crates, trudging back and forth between the boat and the shore, among the mountains of goods.
The overseers, holding whips or sticks, scanned the entire area with sharp eyes, occasionally urging or scolding.
Lin Mo's gaze swept over the busy and arduous scene, and he soon noticed a group of people gathered near the entrance of the dock.
Most of these people were dressed in rags, emaciated, and their eyes held a longing for food and clothing and a sense of bewilderment about the future; they were clearly refugees fleeing from war.
They gathered in front of a simple wooden shed, inside which sat several men dressed in short jackets and carrying short sticks at their waists; they were clearly members of the Grand Canal Gang.
One of the burly men with a thick beard shouted gruffly, "Listen up! The canal gang is recruiting workers to unload and load cargo! As long as you're strong and willing to work hard, you'll get two full meals a day and ten coins! Anyone who tries to cheat or cheats, don't blame me for being ruthless with my stick!"
This is the job posting location.
Without hesitation, Lin Mo silently walked to the end of the group of refugees.
His dark gray coarse cloth clothes were inconspicuous here, even neater than the clothes of some refugees, but he deliberately concealed his aura and hunched his back slightly, making himself look more like a taciturn, down-and-out person just trying to get a bite to eat.
The procession moved slowly, with each of the refugees at the front undergoing simple questioning and scrutiny.
"What's your name? Where are you from?"
"Wang Ergou, he fled here after the disaster in Hexi..."
"What did you do before?"
"Farmers..."
"Okay, go stand over there and wait for the trial run!"
The interrogation was simple; it mainly focused on physical condition and mental state. Those who were too weak or had obvious illnesses would be eliminated immediately.
When it was Lin Mo's turn, the burly man with the thick beard looked him up and down.
Although Lin Mo tried to restrain himself, his upright posture and the calm demeanor that came from experiencing life and death still set him apart from the anxious refugees around him.
"What's your name? Where are you from?" the burly man asked, his voice still rough and uncouth.
"Lin Mo, I'm from the north. There's a famine in my hometown." He spoke concisely, his voice low and hoarse, befitting the image of a refugee.
"What did you do before?"
"I've hunted and I've also done manual labor for others," Lin Mo replied.
"Oh?" The burly man raised an eyebrow, seemingly interested in his claim of "hunting experience," but didn't ask further. "Go over there and try carrying the bag."
Lin Mo followed instructions and walked to the designated area. There were standard cargo bags piled up there, each weighing about 100 kilograms.
A lean foreman pointed to the pile of bales and said to the group of migrants waiting to be tested, "Each of you carry three bales, from here to that pile and back three times! Keep your steps steady, and don't drop any!"
The first few refugees, some gritted their teeth and carried the load, their steps faltering, and they were on the verge of collapse halfway through; others barely managed to finish, but were already covered in sweat and panting heavily.
When it was Lin Mo's turn, he easily picked up a cargo bag and slung it over his shoulder with fluid movements, as if it were not a hundred-pound weight, but a bag of cotton.
He walked steadily, at a pace that was neither too fast nor too slow, but each step was firm and powerful, and his breathing was even. After three rounds, his face was not red, he was not out of breath, and he hadn't even broken a sweat.
The lean overseer and the burly man with the thick beard exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of surprise in each other's eyes. This strength and stamina were not something an ordinary refugee could possess.
"Kid, not bad strength!" A burly man with a thick beard walked over, patted Lin Mo on the shoulder, and felt the muscles were firm, not just chubby. "You're the one! Go work with Old Zhang at Pier Three!"
"Yes," Lin Mo replied softly.
Old Zhang was about fifty years old, with dark skin and a face full of wrinkles, but his eyes were still relatively gentle, unlike the fierce ones of the other foremen.
He led Lin Mo and several other selected refugees toward Pier No. 3.
"Once you're here, just work honestly," Old Zhang said as he walked. "Our canal gang doesn't have many rules, but don't blame us for being ruthless if you break them. Keep your hands clean and don't steal goods. Follow orders and don't fight. Wages are paid daily, and if you do a good job, you might get a bonus at the end of the month."
As they were talking, they arrived at Pier No. 3.
A medium-sized cargo ship was docked at Pier 3, loaded with sacks of grain. Lin Mo's job was to unload the grain sacks from the ship and carry them ashore to the designated cargo stacks.
This job was a piece of cake for Lin Mo. He didn't even need to use his internal energy; he could easily handle it with just the strength of his body, which had been partially tempered, and the precise muscle control he had as a former assassin.
He shouldered the grain sack and mingled into the flow of people.
During this time, he carefully observed everything around him.
He noticed that several men dressed slightly differently from the ordinary gang members, with water-splitting spikes on their waists, were guarding several key positions on the dock, either openly or covertly. Their eyes were sharp, and their demeanor was much more composed than that of the ordinary gang members. They should be the core force of the canal gang or, in other words, the "canal protection warriors".
Occasionally, well-dressed people, who looked like managers, would patrol the docks and inspect the cargo, accompanied by overseers.
During work breaks, Lin Mo would sit in a corner and quietly listen to other people's casual conversations.
"Sigh, this job is tiring, but at least I can eat."
"Yes, it's better than starving to death outside. I heard that another group of refugees tried to enter the town a couple of days ago, but they were scattered by the soldiers..."
"Stop with the nonsense. Have you heard? It seems like the cargo loss at our docks isn't over yet?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down! Don't you want to work here anymore? Didn't they say they're investigating?"
"Investigate? After investigating for so long, you haven't found anything! I heard that what went missing wasn't ordinary grain, but that batch of 'fine grain' that the gang leader specially transported from the south!"
"Fine ingredients? What's that?"
"How would I know? Anyway, I heard it's quite valuable... Sigh, there's no peace anywhere in this world."
Details? Lin Mo's heart stirred slightly. This might be related to the subsequent loss of goods. He didn't interrupt, but simply noted down this information.
The day's work soon came to an end, and Old Zhang distributed the day's wages to each laborer—ten well-worn copper coins.
"Lin Mo, you did a good job. Will you come again tomorrow?" Old Zhang was very satisfied with Lin Mo's performance.
This kid doesn't talk much, but he's strong, doesn't slack off, and stacks the goods neatly.
"Here you go." Lin Mo took the copper coin and nodded.
"Alright, come find me here at the same time tomorrow." After saying that, Old Zhang turned and left.
Lin Mo held the ten copper coins, still warm from his body, and looked at the town center in the distance, where lights were gradually lighting up and the town was becoming more prosperous. He then looked back at the docks, which were beginning to quiet down, and the warehouses, which looked like giant beasts crouching in the twilight.
The first step in concealing one's identity has been successfully taken.