GBP Chapter 346: A New Myitkyina
Chapter 346: A New Myitkyina
The advantage of talking to smart people is that you don’t have to go into too much detail about everything.
The next day, both of them changed into casual clothes and walked on the streets of Myitkyina under the protection of plainclothes guards from the surrounding security department.
As the first major city liberated by the People's Army, Myitkyina has undergone post-war renovation and now looks brand new.
Dai Chunfeng looked up and saw that although there were no tall buildings on both sides of the wide street, there were rows of two-story wooden buildings of various colors. Various signs were hung under the green-tiled eaves, making the street very lively.
There is a bustling crowd of people coming and going in front of shops of all sizes. Peddlers carry their loads and hawk their wares along the streets. Stall owners set up stalls on the roadside and sell all kinds of goods. The aroma, noise, and shouts are intertwined, sketching out a picture of a bustling market.
"It is said that the daily necessities of life are what soothe the hearts of ordinary people. How do you feel, Brother Chunfeng?" Zhang Chi asked with a smile.
Dai Chunfeng pointed to the wide road and saw freight trucks slowly passing by on the main road, loaded with grain, wood, and even bundles of cloth.
Mules and horses carrying goods walked leisurely, while rickshaw drivers moved flexibly between the crowd and vehicles, and the sound of brisk rickshaw bells rang out one after another.
Occasionally, one or two cars passed by, raising clouds of dust from their tires.
"Did we come to the wrong place?" Dai Chunfeng suddenly sighed. "This place looks like the bustling streets of Spring City or Mountain City. It doesn't look like a place that has just been through war."
After hearing this, Zhang Chi smiled and said nothing.
The two continued walking along the street. At the door of a tailor shop on the street, several women were gathered around a piece of blue twill newly produced by Nanhua Textile Factory, pointing and discussing the style.
The candy shop clerk was holding a wooden spoon, stirring the malt syrup in the copper pot. The sweet smell spread with the steam. Several children, even a dark-skinned native child, stood at the door, looking at them eagerly.
Further away, a queue formed in front of a stall selling fried snacks. Golden fried dough sticks and twisted dough sticks sizzled in the boiling oil pan. The stall owner skillfully flipped the bamboo grate and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel from time to time.
"Fresh fish! Just caught from the Irrawaddy River!" A dark-skinned fisherman shouted at the top of his voice. In the fish basket beside him, several lively big fish splashed water from time to time.
"Bamboo winnowing baskets and vegetable baskets are needed by every household!" An old man sat leisurely on a small stool, leaning on his pipe, with various bamboo products placed beside him.
"Hot herbal tea, have a bowl of sweet herbal tea to moisten your throat!" In the small tea stall on the corner of the street, the waiter, speaking Mandarin with a Guangdong accent, was busy handing hot bowls of tea to the customers.
As Dai Chunfeng walked, he carefully observed the people around him.
As a veteran in the intelligence community, he easily discovered that the people here were completely different from those back home.
There was a long-lost look on their faces, hope and enthusiasm in their eyes, and their every gesture was filled with longing for a new life.
It’s not like in China, where there is only numbness.
This was exactly Zhang Chi's purpose, to openly show the situation in Myitkyina to Dai Chunfeng, so that the other party would not always think about infiltration and intelligence reconnaissance.
Not far away, a truck carrying soldiers passed by. The people around waved to the car, and some people even excitedly threw food and cigarettes into the truck bed. After the soldiers caught them, they smiled and nodded to the people on the street to express their gratitude.
This scene made Dai Chunfeng narrow his eyes slightly. He could tell at a glance that this was not a forcibly organized scene, but an interaction that truly came from the heart.
He couldn't help but think back to the time when these young people with ideals entered the Whampoa Military Academy. Wasn't it just to build such an army?
He suddenly felt dazed.
How did it become like this today?
Dai Chunfeng's family knows their own business. People like Wu Jingzhong, the Tianjin station chief in "The Disguiser", are the norm in the Military Control Commission.
It took only a dozen years for him to transform from a young and high-spirited officer of the Northern Expedition into a cunning old fox who openly said, "If you don't work for yourself, heaven and earth will punish you."
"Soldiers are supposed to be simple people. They are born to be loyal to their country and nation." Zhang Chi sighed suddenly as he watched the troop transport trucks going away.
Dai Chunfeng paused slightly.
It is said that one should listen to what is said and what is meant. He suspected that Zhang Chi was hinting to him that the Military Control Commission's attempt to infiltrate Pegu had been discovered.
He glanced sideways at Zhang Chi, who still had a calm expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, strolling among the crowd, as if he had just said it casually.
But Dai Chunfeng's heart was in turmoil.
Dai Chunfeng took a deep breath, suppressed his thoughts, and smiled nonchalantly, "Indeed, that's how it should be."
Zhang Chi glanced at him, raised the corners of his mouth slightly, and said "hmm" in an ambiguous tone.
Dai Chunfeng quickly changed the subject: "I've noticed quite a few indigenous vendors on this street, and some even have shops right on the street. Their signs and the language they use to attract customers are all in Chinese. How did Mr. Zhang do it?"
Zhang Chi stopped and seemed to be talking about something very simple:
"The world is full of people, all driven by profit. When these natives realize that they can only earn money and support their families by speaking Mandarin and behaving as similarly as Chinese, they will naturally become naturalized."
As he spoke, Zhang Chi smiled and waved his hand casually:
"White Eagle calls this the invisible big hand, which I think is quite appropriate."
Dai Chunfeng was a shrewd man. He knew that although Zhang Chi said it was easy, it must have been accomplished through a series of meticulous planning.
However, he still agreed with the central idea that "the world is in turmoil, all driven by profit": "That is the extreme, that is the extreme."
Not long after, the two of them strolled into a school on the street.
Dai Chunfeng looked at the plaque hanging outside the cement wall. The words "Taishan Road No. 1 Public Primary School" on it made him think deeply.
Inside the three-story reinforced concrete building next to me, painted white, a gentle breeze carried the sound of reading aloud.
Fuxi drew the hexagrams to create the universe, and Duke Zhou established rituals and moral codes.
Confucius taught the Six Arts at the Xingtan Temple, and Mencius' mother moved three times to choose a good neighbor.
The Qin Emperor's chariot tracks connected the nine regions, and the Han envoys dug through the land and expanded the borders.
Don’t say that the south is a smoky and miasmic place, the south is my hometown.
Dai Chunfeng's crocodile leather shoes paused on the blue brick floor. He looked through the window and saw more than forty children sitting on bamboo chairs, holding the thread-bound edition of "Chinese Enlightenment Reader" and reading aloud in unison.
His almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, and he recited the poem silently several times.
"Incredible." Dai Chunfeng took off his sun hat and pressed it against his chest, a gesture that made him look like a pious rural schoolmaster. "Back then, the founding father said revolution required a change of heart. Today, seeing Mr. Zhang spreading the seeds of Chinese civilization in Southeast Asia, I finally understand the meaning of the silent influence."
Zhang Chi nodded casually to the principal who had rushed over after hearing the news, then picked up a copy of "Nanyang History" and opened it, which happened to be a color-printed illustration of Zheng He's voyages to the West:
"Many people here may have ancestors who went to Southeast Asia as early as the Ming Dynasty. I asked them to compile these textbooks to remind these children that they must never forget their roots."