Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 539 Withdrawal of Troops
August 4, Guadalajara, Mexico.

The morning sun pierced through the thin clouds and shone on the city that had been occupied by foreign troops for three months.

A strange and oppressive atmosphere permeated the air, a complex mix of anticipation, fear, and a slight sense of bewilderment.

On the city streets, squads of Xinhua soldiers in dark blue uniforms were busy working in an orderly manner.

They were not preparing for battle, but rather carrying out the final work of evacuation.

The wagons rumbled and the packhorses neighed as heavy wooden crates were loaded onto the vehicles with a dull thud.

All of this silently proclaims that the occupation by the new Chinese is about to end.

The thousands of Spanish residents in the city carefully hid behind windows, in the shadows of doorways, or pretended to be busy on street corners, secretly observing all of this.

A hint of excitement and relief was barely concealed on their faces, but no one dared to show it too boldly.

Because right there in the church square in the city center, dozens of makeshift gallows still stand, with the corpses hanging on them swaying gently in the breeze like scarecrows, a silent yet cruel warning.

They are the military, an organized violent group that could easily destroy everything here.

Among those publicly executed were Spanish officers who initially resisted fiercely, citizens who attacked the new Chinese army despite warnings, and colonial officials and nobles who resolutely refused to cooperate.

This is the ruthless brutality of these seemingly "civilized" occupiers right before the eyes of the residents of Guadalajara.

These figures swaying beneath the gallows serve as a constant reminder to the city's residents that obedience is the only rule for their survival.

Juan Perez leaned against the wooden door of his bakery, clutching a freshly baked tortilla in his hand, but had no appetite for it.

His gaze swept across the square and landed in front of the city hall not far away, where a group of Xinhua soldiers were counting supplies. Their indigo round-necked shirts were particularly eye-catching in the sunlight, and the collars were embroidered with an unfamiliar silver emblem. It was neither the lion and castle of Spain nor the orange flag of the Netherlands, but a five-pointed star.

“Don’t stare, Juan.” His wife Maria came out of the shop with a basin of cold water in her hand. She splashed some water on the stone slab in front of the door. The water evaporated instantly, leaving a white mark. “Last time, old José just glanced at the gallows a couple of times and prayed for the dead. He was then forced to do hard labor on the city wall for a month.”

Juan looked away, took a bite of the cornbread, and found it dry and hard to swallow.

He glanced at the Spanish residents in the square, most of whom, like him, were standing at their doorsteps or street corners, secretly watching the movements of the Xinhua Army.

The gunshots from when the Xinhua people broke into the city three months ago still ring in my ears, and now they are finally leaving.

Guadalajara will also be "liberated" and "free," and the fear of the occupying forces will be completely dispelled.

In fact, to be fair, during these long three months, Guadalajara did not experience the hellish turmoil commonly seen in European wars.

Compared to the mercenaries rumored to have committed atrocities during the wars on the European continent, these Xinhua soldiers with flat faces, low noses, and black hair were remarkably "restrained" and even "gentle."

Apart from the initial ruthless suppression of staunch resisters, they did not carry out large-scale massacres of ordinary citizens, and even incidents of rape and robbery were relatively rare.

At least, it was done in a less blatant way.

Of course, the loss of wealth is inevitable.

Shortly after the occupation, the new Chinese issued an order: every adult Spanish resident must pay a "ransom" of 10 pesos, and each child 2 pesos.

Led by those shameful "traitors," squads of soldiers went door-to-door collecting confiscated goods.

Those who could not pay their dues would be forcibly taken away and forced into hard labor, such as building city defenses, digging fortifications, and transporting looted goods.

"Open the gate! Ransom demanded!" Such shouts became a nightmare for the citizens in the first few weeks.

Juan still remembers the young, almost shy Xinhua soldier who spoke to him in broken Spanish: "Old man, rules are rules. Please pay 10 pesos, or tell us where your treasure is."

When Pedro handed over the last few silver coins he had hidden under the furnace bricks, the soldier even nodded slightly and said "thank you for your cooperation," which struck him as surreal and absurd.

But all the money squeezed from ordinary citizens was just a drop in the ocean compared to the enormous wealth confiscated from Spanish officers, municipal councilors, nobles, and wealthy merchants.

These items, which the new Chinese considered "hostile assets," were confiscated without hesitation: oak chests filled with gold and silver coins, luxurious furs, exquisite works of art, and glittering jewelry... all were sealed and transported to temporary warehouses in the city.

“They’re even more efficient than the tax collectors!” Former city councilor Mr. Gomez stood at the window of his ransacked mansion, watching another carriage laden with his family’s valuables drive by, and whispered angrily to his wife, “My silverware, your dowry of Venetian glassware, even the painting that my grandfather bought from Flanders… Oh God, they’ve taken everything! These barbarians!” After looting the city, the new Chinese set their sights on the fertile manors, farms, and ranches outside the city.

What angered and terrified the Spanish colonists even more was that many long-oppressed indigenous people and white indentured servants stepped forward to act as their "guides."

Guided by these locals, the Xinhua army quickly and accurately located the manors that had accumulated great wealth.

They encountered almost no decent resistance; the usually arrogant private guards of the manor were utterly helpless against the Xinhua Army.

After granting freedom to all the Native American slaves and indentured servants on the plantation, the occupiers swept away everything they could carry away: gold, silver, jewelry, works of art, and even grain, livestock, wine, and leather.

The long convoys worked day and night to transport these spoils back to Guadalajara, and then organized people to send them in batches to the western coast, where they awaited ships to take them back to their homeland.

The Spanish have accumulated astonishing wealth through more than a century of business in Mexico.

Today, this wealth is being rapidly transferred in an efficient and ruthless manner.

Watching their hard-earned property being plundered like this, the Spanish landowners were heartbroken, yet powerless to do anything but hide in a corner, filled with shock, anger, and resentment.

However, the targets of the looting by the new Chinese were far more than just money and valuables.

Just as they were about to leave, they began to systematically "recruit" people.

Surprisingly, a considerable number of freed white indentured slaves, approximately three to four hundred, voluntarily followed these invaders.

What attracted them to follow was the promise made by the new Chinese: on the new land, everyone would be allocated a piece of land and a house of their own, with extremely low taxes and the endless levies and government apportionments imposed under Spanish rule.

In order to gain more people's trust, some of the new Chinese soldiers with European features were arranged to speak out, and some of them were said to have Spanish ancestry.

“Look at me!” A Hispanic officer named Hudno shouted in Spanish with an Andalusian accent to a group of hesitant indentured slaves: “Sixteen years ago, when I was a child, I was brought to the New Continent by the Chinese. My parents thought my life was over!”

"But what about now? My father is a respected furniture workshop owner, my mother is engaged in the sacred work of healing and saving lives in the hospital, and I have become a heroic Xinhua officer. We have land, wealth, dignity and future that we never dared to imagine before."

"On the land of Xinhua, as long as you are hardworking and law-abiding, no one will look down on you because of your past identity or faith! There are no kings, no greedy churches and officials, and no harsh tax collectors."

"Most of the grain and even the property you harvest each year will belong to you. The government will only pay 15 percent tax. Apart from that, you will not have to pay any donations or evade the disgusting church tithe!"

"You will live happier and more dignified lives on Xinhua's land. Your children will receive free education from the government and will have a bright future."

"So, I want to ask you, do you want to stay here and endure the exploitation and oppression of the Spanish colonial government, to become indentured slaves who are even less than livestock?"

Such propaganda was extremely tempting, and for many indentured servants and impoverished white people who had no hope of owning land and toiled all day but could hardly make ends meet, it was undoubtedly an opportunity to escape their misery and seek a new life.

In addition to these voluntary followers, the new Chinese also systematically "recruited" various craftsmen in the city: blacksmiths, carpenters, leatherworkers, tailors, watchmakers, brewers... and even some doctors and scholars.

With a list provided by the "volunteers," the soldiers almost "followed the clues" to "invite" these skilled individuals and their families onto the waiting vehicles, regardless of whether they were willing or not.

The old silversmith Alberto struggled, shouting to the officer who came to "invite" him, "I can't leave! My shop is here! My whole life is here!"

The officer remained expressionless, simply pointing to the two tailor brothers beside him who were being "persuaded": "Listen, I'm not discussing this with you, I'm giving you an order. Don't make us take unnecessary measures! ... You can rest assured, your skills will be better treated at our Xinhua Association, and you'll receive good benefits."

His tone was firm and left no room for argument.

It is foreseeable that when the new Chinese finally leave, Guadalajara will face not only the loss of its looted wealth, but also an irreparable gap in technology and talent.

For a long time to come, this city will be in dire need of skilled craftsmen, and the road to recovery and reconstruction will be long and arduous.

As the sun set, the last convoy, escorted by cavalry, began to leave the city gate, raising clouds of dust.

Spanish residents finally dared to cautiously step out of their homes, gather in the streets, and watch the direction the invaders had left in.

A sense of relief gradually replaced the fear, but looking at the devastated city and the empty shops, an unprecedented sense of bewilderment and a heavy burden of reconstruction weighed on the hearts of every survivor.

The church bells finally rang again, long and slow, as if mourning the end of an era, or as if praying for a future full of uncertainty.
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(End of this chapter)