Chapter 35: Parting (II)

"Mr. Zhang, this is the bag of ocean dollars our young mistress asked me to give you. She has matters to attend to and cannot come off the ship."

Major Yamaguchi handed the heavy pouch of silver coins to Zhang Tiejun. Zhang Tiejun initially intended to refuse, but after a moment of hesitation, he accepted it.

To Zhang Tiejun's surprise, Major Yamaguchi immediately raised his hand in a crisp, standard military salute. "Although our two nations have been at war, I admire you. Thank you for helping us save the young mistress. The Sakurai family will not forget your kindness, nor will I."

"Just be good to your young mistress," Zhang Tiejun said softly, touching the Colt pistol in his hand.

"You need not worry about that. A samurai's duty is to protect their lord."

On the deck of the Asuka Maru, Sakurai Akira gazed with reluctance at the silhouette of Zhang Tiejun as it faded into the distance.

"Young Mistress..." Kawakawa Ichiro began, but Sakurai Akira cut him off.

"Uncle Kawakawa, I know what you want to say. Don't worry; since I chose this path, I accept my fate," she said firmly.

Kawakawa Ichiro hesitated, struggling for words, before finally murmuring, "I have wronged you, Young Mistress."

"This is the destiny of the Sakurai family. If my sacrifice can bring peace between our two nations, then this mission is beyond question. It is just..." Sakurai Akira suddenly hesitated. "Uncle Kawakawa, do you think he will forget me? Will we ever have the chance to meet again?"

"Although we did not spend much time together, I am certain that Mr. Zhang is not a flighty or superficial man. He will surely remember you. As for your second question..." Kawakawa Ichiro replied, "That depends on you. If the war ceases and peace is restored between our nations, the day you meet again will come soon."

This timely reminder immediately lifted the spirits of the somewhat despondent Sakurai Akira. When Major Yamaguchi returned to the cabin after completing his task, he found that Sakurai Akira, who had been melancholy and listless moments ago, was now full of vigor.

"Yamaguchi-kun, help me prepare a set of internal materials regarding the current state of the Sakurai family. The more detailed, the better."

Major Yamaguchi was startled by such proactive initiative from Sakurai Akira, but seeing the supportive nod from Kawakawa Ichiro, he immediately brightened.

"Hai!"

"Young Mistress, shall we set sail?"

"Set sail!"

Not long after, Zhang Tiejun heard the mournful whistle of the Asuka Maru from the old, abandoned ferry pier nearby.

Zhang Tiejun stood frozen for a moment. Watching the ship drift further away, he leaped onto a large boulder, observing the iron beast as it slowly receded into the distance.

Perhaps it was telepathy, or perhaps fate, but at that same moment, Sakurai Akira stood at the prow, gazing silently toward the distant shoreline of the mainland.

Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, the distance between them grew ever wider. Before nightfall arrived, the ship had faded into a mere black dot.

The long winds and bright moon seemed to carry the sounds of an endless tragedy; this was the fate of an era, and yet, it was also the turning point of an era.

Sitting by his campfire, Zhang Tiejun weighed the silver coins in his hand—thirteen in total.

Economic warfare is always a war without smoke. From the Fengtian currency of the warlord era to the later preparation notes under the banner of the rising sun, from the unified notes of the three northeastern provinces under the Nationalist flag to the Renminbi after the founding of the nation—currency represents the greatest credibility of a government.

Compared to the fiat currency, which was worth less than grass, the "Silver Big Head" was truly hard currency. At one point, the exchange rate had reached one billion fiat dollars for a single silver coin. Even after the implementation of a planned economy, silver coins remained rampant in many places. The government's method was to force centralized exchange, but people were so traumatized by poverty that no one was willing to exchange them voluntarily.

It took nearly a decade of currency reform for things to stabilize. The mountains of the Northeast were vast and had long been filled with bandits; though most were wiped out, many silver coins remained. The government eventually posted notices at banks offering a one-to-one exchange for the Yuan Shikai silver dollars.

Zhang Tiejun had long since planned how to use this money. Little Hua would soon be of school age, and these funds would be enough for her boarding school tuition. Education must never be neglected, and children must never be poor. Unlike the future, where academic credentials would lose their value, in the current climate, having an education was still essential.

Having made up his mind, Zhang Tiejun turned his attention to the Colt pistol. The gun was in ninety-percent new condition; it could not have been fired more than a dozen times, and it had been well-maintained. Looking closely, Zhang Tiejun noticed a special pattern on the grip—a blooming rose. The rose was plated in gold, looking exceptionally beautiful in the reflection of the firelight.

"This is a custom-made pistol..." Zhang Tiejun muttered to himself.

The Colt pistol enjoyed a prestigious reputation in the world of light weaponry. With its classic, durable design and reliable operation, it was not only widely used as a standard-issue weapon but was also sought after by dignitaries as a collectible.

Zhang Tiejun had indeed lacked a self-defense weapon. His old-fashioned flintlock hunting rifle, while powerful, was too slow to load and had too short a range, often allowing only one chance. The Colt pistol compensated for these flaws. The only drawback was the nine-millimeter ammunition, which was currently far too scarce. Including the rounds in the magazine, he had less than thirty.

Unlike the small pellets of his flintlock, which he could cast himself, the nine-millimeter rounds were irreplaceable once exhausted. If he wanted more, he would likely have to head to the black market.

Zhang Tiejun finally understood the old saying: "Existence is reasonable."

He opened a can of beef, scraped a large spoonful out, and chewed it slowly. Unlike the canned goods mixed with ox blood and coarse grains, the cans Major Yamaguchi had given him were genuine beef. The chunks were full and round, and the flavor was rich.

"I'll take the rest home for Mom and my sister to eat," Zhang Tiejun whispered to himself.

At the first light of dawn the next day, Zhang Tiejun packed his things and prepared to return. Although he hadn't found the thousands of pounds of meat he had hoped for, he had done a good deed. Fortunately, with about half a month left until the Lunar New Year, he still had a chance.

For the people of the Guandong Mountains, who often lived apart, the New Year was a major event. Many wanderers would return home for this day. Even though the economy had yet to recover, the festive atmosphere of the New Year was already beginning to take hold.

There was also an unwritten rule among the hunters of the mountains: they would not go up into the mountains during the New Year. Firstly, it was to help out at home, and secondly, it was to put their families' minds at ease—running through the mountains all day carried the risk of injury, and it was better to be safe.