Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 418 Ban
January 18, 1640, Shadian Village (present-day San Leandro, California)

The salty, damp sea breeze from Yongning Bay swept across the stream on the southeast side of the village. The water flowed slowly and was icy cold, meandering through this newly established settlement.

The source of the stream, Little Green Lake (now Lake Chapote), glistens in the distance, while the downstream waters eventually flow into Li Tian Bay (now San Leandro Bay) and disappear at the horizon.

This waterway is a vital route for transporting goods to and from Shadian Village, but at this moment it appears quiet and empty, with only the occasional sound of water gently lapping against the shore.

On both sides of the stream, newly reclaimed fields stretch into the distance, the land bare after the autumn harvest, and withered yellow weeds swaying in the wind.

Most of the farmland has been harvested, leaving only traces of tilling, but a few plots still have corn stubble remaining, with dry stalks standing like soldiers, telling of the life that was still there not long ago.

Along the river bend, every mile or so there is a makeshift thatched hut, where several armed militiamen are stationed.

The temperature was cold and damp. Only one person was left to patrol the wooden bridge, while the rest gathered in the thatched shed around the charcoal brazier, chatting quietly by the fire.

As the sun set and darkness fell, the flames in the charcoal brazier flickered, illuminating the tired and tense faces of the three militiamen.

“I heard that 30% of the Oron tribe across the river has died…” The youngest, Pang San’er, added a piece of firewood to the charcoal brazier, sparks crackling and illuminating his dark face in shifting red and black. “At noon, I saw thick smoke billowing from the opposite bank, mostly from burning corpses. If this continues, will they all be dead?”

"Why are you worrying so much?" Chang Ping'an, who had a bitter look on his face, held a small wooden stick and poked around in the charcoal brazier, trying to get the roasted potatoes out. "Our orders are to guard this river, oh, and this wooden bridge, to prevent any natives from crossing over. Otherwise, dozens of us from Shadian Village will be wiped out!"

"No way?" Li Baosheng's eyes widened. "Didn't the village chief say that we had all been vaccinated against smallpox not long after we came to Xinhua, so we weren't afraid of getting smallpox?"

"Aren't you afraid?" Chang Ping'an pulled three potatoes out of the charcoal brazier in succession. They were dark black, but they smelled delicious. "Why don't you cross the river and go see what the locals are like?"

“I’m not going!” Li Baosheng shook his head vigorously, reached out and grabbed a potato from Chang Ping’an, but the scorching heat made his hand quickly flinch. “What if I get smallpox? I could lose my life. When I was little, there was a smallpox outbreak in my county, and people were dying every day in more than a dozen villages.”

"Damn it, you're still scared!" Chang Ping'an chuckled.

"If you're not afraid, then go ahead!" Li Baosheng rolled his eyes at him. "I finally got to Xinhua, and I haven't even had a proper meal yet. I can't let smallpox take my life!"

"Hehe... who says otherwise?" Chang Ping'an picked up a roasted potato from the ground, blowing on it as he peeled it. "We have to live a good life. At the very least, we need to get married and have children before we can close our eyes in peace."

"Do you think all those natives might have died?" After a long silence, Pang San'er asked the same question again.

"What, you're still worried about them? You didn't get any benefits from the natives, did you?" Chang Ping'an quickly peeled off the dark outer skin of the potato, revealing the golden flesh inside, and the rich aroma immediately filled the entire thatched hut.

"I reckon San'er has his eye on the women from the tribe across the way, and he's afraid the smallpox epidemic will take them away," Li Baosheng joked.

"Hey, you've only been here for less than four months and you're already eyeing some local woman?" Chang Ping'an grinned. "Damn it, it really proves that old saying, what's it again... 'When you're well-fed and clothed, you start thinking about women!'"

"I...I didn't!" Pang San'er's face was somewhat awkward.

“What’s the big deal!” Li Baosheng patted his shoulder. “Many of us old immigrants from Xinhua have married local women. Apart from not speaking fluent Mandarin, they’re no different from us Han women in bed, and they can all have children.”

"Hehe... Baosheng is right. A few days ago, I really did take a fancy to a local woman. She had a big bottom and looked like she could have children. But unfortunately, she was already taken and had several children."

“Hey, Brother Chang, I heard from those old immigrants that the women in those tribes don’t care how many men they have, is that right?” Li Baosheng lowered his voice. “They can sleep in the same bed with this man today, but after a while, if they take a fancy to another man, they will also do illicit affairs. They are far less chaste than us Han women.”

"This... how would I know!" Chang Ping'an was stunned for a moment upon hearing this, then laughed and scolded, "How could I want a woman like that? If my wife dared to flirt with another man and give birth to a bastard, I would personally kill them!"

"That's right!" Li Baosheng echoed, "If you live with a man, you must uphold the virtues of a woman and learn the fine traditions of women in our Great Ming Dynasty. You can't have affairs with other men and father someone else's child!"

“In that case, it would be best to marry a… Han woman.” Pang San’er muttered softly, “But there are very few women in Xinhua. If we wait, who knows when it will be.”

"Sigh, who says otherwise! If only Xinhua could bring back more women every year..."

There was another moment of silence.

The wind swept across the withered leaves and the riverbank, and in the distance came the faint cry of an owl, mournful as a ghost's wail.

Li Baosheng suddenly shivered: "Back in my hometown in Shandong, the government prevented plagues by sealing off villages, burning corpses, and spreading lime. But where the locals are..."

He peered out of the thatched hut at the desolate riverbank, a hint of worry on his face: "It's just the few of us guarding this place with muskets. Can we hold out? What if those natives swarm over..." "Run!" Chang Ping'an instinctively stood up, looking towards the wooden bridge. "If we can't stop them, we can only run back to the village. Are we really going to hold out here to the death?"

"Why not just tear down that wooden bridge?"

"If you demolish the bridge, how will the epidemic prevention team investigating the smallpox outbreak get here?"

"Oh... they're really bold, daring to venture deep into the epidemic area." Li Baosheng showed a hint of admiration. "Do you think they might encounter some trouble?"

“Probably not.” Chang Ping’an thought for a moment and said confidently, “Not to mention that they had all been vaccinated against smallpox before, with their many years of experience in epidemic prevention and health, they shouldn’t have contracted smallpox.”

"Sigh, tell me, if an epidemic breaks out in a native tribe, what's the point of us going to investigate? Just let them fend for themselves, wait a few months until the epidemic is over, and then go check on them. Wouldn't that be much safer?"

"How would I know what's going on up there? Maybe..."

"boom!"

A sharp volley of gunfire rang out outside the thatched hut, startling the men so much that they immediately stood up, grabbed the muskets resting on the pillars, and ran outside.

"What's going on?" Chang Ping'an shouted at Cui Chengping, who was guarding the wooden bridge, while loading ammunition.

“Someone…is coming over.” Cui Chengping pointed to the other side of the river and said in broken Mandarin.

On the opposite bank of the river, the bushes shook violently, and a dark figure stumbled out, falling to his knees on the riverbank with a thud. He was clearly frightened by the sound of gunfire and waved his hand in this direction.

A moment later, two more natives dressed in animal skins rushed out of the forest, glanced at the opposite bank of the river, paused for a moment, and then pounced on the native who was kneeling on the riverbank.

"Back off! Back off!" Chang Ping'an raised his musket and shouted sternly towards the opposite bank, "Don't come any closer, or you'll be killed without mercy!"

The two natives silently helped their companion up from the riverbank and slowly retreated.

In a few breaths, they disappeared into the forest, and the riverbank returned to tranquility, as if nothing had happened.

"What's going on?" Several militiamen nearby, having heard the gunshots, quickly rode their horses over from a distance, looking around nervously.

"It's alright now." Chang Ping'an turned around and replied, "I reckon some locals are coming here looking for medicine to cure their illnesses."

"Oh..." Upon hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Today is the 24th of the twelfth lunar month, a day for worshipping the Kitchen God. ...I wonder if he can protect us from this plague?"

"The Kitchen God doesn't care about plagues. If you want to get rid of an epidemic, you have to worship the Five Plague Messengers or directly pray to the Smallpox God."

“But we don’t have a temple in Shadian Village.”

"It's alright. Find an open space, set out some offerings, and kowtow to the Five Plague Messengers. The gods will accept them."

"Hehe, that's not very formal, it lacks a bit of respect."

"It's nothing, the thought is what counts."

"What if the gods aren't on our New Continent?"

"How could that be! The gods are watching us from heaven, whether in the Ming Dynasty or in Xinzhou."

"That's good! I was worried that when we got to Xinzhou, the gods in heaven wouldn't be able to find us here."

"You're all spouting nonsense!" the militia squad leader laughed and scolded, taking the reins of the horse, stepping into the stirrups, and skillfully jumping onto the horse's back. "Be careful, don't let those plague-ridden natives sneak over."

"The New Year is just a few days away, we absolutely cannot afford any mistakes!"
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(End of this chapter)