Return to the Nest

Ships bustled in and out of the riverside docks.

The battalion commander and his men changed into special uniforms, new shoes, and woven rattan hats, then followed the dock dispatchers to begin work. As a battalion commander, he did not need to labor himself; he only had to lead the team as a foreman. Their job was to move cargo on and off ships or between the ships and shore, with little carts making it very convenient.

Thus, these men became laborers as well. For nothing else but a full meal with a slick of oil floating on top, it was worth it.

After struggling at first and gradually becoming familiar with the work, they found it was not actually tiring. There were carts and hooks, and they only needed to exert themselves now and then. Once they were busy and fulfilled, they had no time for wild thoughts.

During a break, another foreman nearby came over to greet them.

He had a small white smoking thing clamped between his lips. Along the way, he had seen many people holding such things in their mouths, Swallowing Clouds and Exhaling Mist, though he had no idea what they were for.

The foreman had a cigarette slanting from his mouth and his cap perched crookedly on his head—the classic look of an old hand.

"Brother, from the Yan Army?"

"Mm."

The battalion commander nodded, unwilling to say more. Better to avoid trouble than invite it; as newcomers, they needed to keep a low profile.

"Nice to meet you. I'm from over there too. Heh heh, I was the first battalion commander to bring my brothers here to scrape together a living. Looks like you're a battalion commander too. That makes us fellow sufferers, hahaha~"

"..."

He rather admired the man's audacity in