Old Shadows of the Republic (3)

Jiang Feng struggled to get up from the ground and looked closely. This was…

A ship's cabin?

Jiang Feng had never been on a boat before. He couldn't even stand steady in the most violently swaying cabin, stumbling all the way until he finally grabbed onto a pillar. Fortunately, he could hold onto the pillar; otherwise, unless the boat stopped, Jiang Feng would have to lie on the ground the entire time.

The cabin was small, dim, and very crowded. There was only a tiny slanted window, and almost no light entered the cabin. About a hundred people were squeezed into this small space, all sorts of people, men, women, old, and young. The only common characteristic was that they were sallow, emaciated, and bone-thin. Most of them sat on the ground with vacant eyes, their faces full of numbness.

Under these circumstances, Jiang Feng couldn't tell which one was Jiang Weiguo.

Jiang Feng held onto the pillar, afraid to move. The entire cabin was filled with a suffocating smell, even more terrible than the smell of the garbage mountain in the shack where Li Mingyi used to live.

The smell of sweat, stale food, body odor, urine, and feces mixed and fermented in such a confined cabin. If Jiang Feng hadn't had the experience of being close to the garbage mountain before, he would have already escaped to the outside of the cabin.

The people in the cabin looked like they hadn't bathed or changed their clothes in a long time. Just by looking at the harsh conditions and their tattered, dirty clothes, Jiang Feng could guess that they had no conditions to bathe, nor any clothes to change into.

If it weren't for the fact that everyone in the cabin was of East Asian descent, Jiang Feng would have suspected this was a slave ship transporting Black people.

After a long while, the cabin door opened.

A lean middle-aged man, dressed relatively neatly but also in old clothes, walked down the stairs with a look of disgust. He stopped halfway, clearly not wanting to have too much contact with the people at the bottom of the cabin.

"The cook for the first-class passengers is sick. Do you have any cooks here?" the lean man shouted at the top of his lungs. "Two steamed buns per meal!"

As soon as the last sentence was spoken, the previously dead-silent bottom of the cabin erupted. They didn't care if the cook who was sick had been thrown into the river; they only cared about those two steamed buns.

Regardless of gender or age, even seven or eight-year-old children, they all shouted one after another: "I'm a cook!"

"I know how to cook!"

"I don't want two steamed buns, I only want one!"

If it weren't for their lingering fear of the lean man and their craving for the white flour steamed buns, the people would have swarmed forward and grabbed his clothes.

"Quiet!" the lean man roared, his voice drowning out the clamor. "No women. If anyone causes trouble, I'll throw you all into the river!"

"I want a cook, a cook who can cook for the adults, not a useless person who only knows how to light a fire and boil porridge!" The lean man scanned the crowd and saw that the people who had been eager were now showing fear. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

This was a merchant ship that originally traded goods back and forth between Southeast Asia. There were many such merchant ships at sea. When they had cargo, the cabins transported goods; when they didn't have cargo, the cabins transported people. The slightly more ruthless ones would trick impoverished people who couldn't make a living into emptying all their savings for a ticket, then divide people into different classes. Pretty or somewhat attractive women were sold by the pound to San Francisco. Strong laborers and women were sold to human traffickers. Children were worthless; if someone bought them, they sold them. If no one wanted them, they would just find a place to abandon them or throw them directly into the river.

Their employer was considered generous. Although the ticket price was expensive, they at least guaranteed to deliver people to their destination and gave the people in the cabins three bowls of clear, bottomless rice soup every day.

As for whether they could survive on three bowls of rice soup a day after spending all their savings on a ticket, that was none of their business. Compared to their peers, their employer was already a Bodhisattva with a kind heart.

"Is there anyone?" the lean man shouted again. "If you satisfy the adults in first class, you might get three steamed buns per meal!"

No one dared to answer.

They were afraid that if their cooking displeased the first-class adults, they wouldn't only get no steamed buns but would also implicate their entire families.

The north had successively experienced wars, severe drought, and plagues this year. Both the wealthy and the poor were fleeing south. A ticket for the entire family in the bottom of the cabin could drain all the savings of an ordinary family. There were even quite a few families who sold their daughters or even their wives to scrape together the money. The status of those who could afford to stay in first class was something these commoners couldn't even imagine.

"Can I do it? I was a sous chef at Tai Feng Lou." Jiang Weiguo squeezed out from the crowd.

At this time, Jiang Weiguo was about eleven or twelve years old. Having been a sous chef for Jiang Chengde since he was young, he was well-nourished. Compared to the people in the bottom of the cabin who were constantly hungry and malnourished, he appeared quite strong and robust. Although his clothes were old and messy, it was clear at a glance that his family had been well-off.

Children from poor families could not grow up to be so strong.

"Tai Feng Lou?" The lean man clearly knew Tai Feng Lou. He also didn't believe that a sous chef from Tai Feng Lou would end up at the bottom of the cabin. "How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Eleven," Jiang Weiguo replied.

The lean man sized him up, thinking about something, and after a long while, he reluctantly agreed, "Come up."

Amidst the envious gazes of the crowd, Jiang Weiguo followed the lean man and left the bottom of the cabin.

Jiang Feng quickly stumbled after him.

After leaving the bottom of the cabin, the air became much fresher, and he could even feel the wind. It was quite pleasant.

The lean man spoke, "My surname is Wang. You can call me Steward Wang from now on. The adults in first class are not people we can afford to offend. If you are impersonating, you can go back now, and I will not pursue the matter."

"My name is Jiang Weiguo," Jiang Weiguo said, extending his hand.

It was a pair of a chef's hands.

Not rough, no extra calluses, but with old scars visible to the naked eye from being cut by a kitchen knife.

Steward Wang believed he was a cook.

Steward Wang led him into a narrow room and threw him a set of clean, old clothes. "There's no hot water. Wash yourself with cold water, especially your head. Don't bring fleas or lice into the kitchen. Then change into the clean clothes. I'll wait for you outside."

After saying that, he closed the wooden door.

Jiang Feng didn't have the habit of peeking at his grandfather bathing and changing clothes when he was young. He waited by the door, just like Steward Wang.

After a while, Jiang Weiguo came out.

He had changed into clean clothes, and his hands and face were clean. Even the dirt under his fingernails had been washed away. Steward Wang looked Jiang Weiguo up and down, nodded with satisfaction, and led him to the kitchen.

The kitchen on the ship was very small, but it was well-equipped. There were several kinds of vegetables, though they were all wilted. There were fresh fish, but no fresh meat. A few pieces of dried meat were hanging, and Jiang Feng couldn't tell what kind of meat it was just by looking.

"The adult in first class is surnamed Huang. Lord Huang dislikes fish and ginger. You must finish cooking by 11 o'clock before noon today. You need to prepare at least three dishes and one soup. If you steal food or take anything, I'll throw you overboard! If you cook well, Lord Huang will naturally reward you. If you don't cook well, you'll have to figure it out yourself!" Steward Wang said, applying both pressure and kindness, then prepared to leave.

"Oh, right, the kitchen for second and third-class passengers is next door. If you're hungry, you can go there and get a bowl of rice porridge."

Jiang Feng guessed this was considered employee benefits.

"May I ask, Steward Wang, where is Lord Huang from?" Jiang Weiguo asked.

Seeing that Jiang Weiguo actually asked a question, Steward Wang couldn't help but look at him more closely. "From Huguang."

"Thank you for telling me, Steward Wang," Jiang Weiguo replied.

"If you need help, go find them next door." Whether it was because he found Jiang Weiguo pleasing to the eye or for some other reason, Steward Wang added another sentence.