The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 691 Tanka people Ke 6 are going to land in Southeast Asia

The salty sea breeze, carrying the smells of coal smoke and the sweat of the crowd, hit us in the face.

Ke Liu leaned against the rusty railing of the "Singapore Peace" passenger ship, watching the Guangfu Wharf gradually disappear into the distance.

The dock was filled with people, and the shouts of those seeing them off were torn apart by the sea breeze, eventually becoming a blurry background noise.

He tightened the patched blue cloth bundle on his shoulder, which contained all his belongings—two sets of coarse cloth clothes for changing, a fishing shuttle that had been used for many years, and a pair of thin silver earrings left by his mother.

The ship shuddered slightly, and a long whistle sounded, announcing the official departure of this immigrant ship, laden with hope, heading towards the legendary Southeast Asia and Singapore.

Ke Liu is a Tanka (boat people) and is twenty-six years old this year.

His parents died one after another when he was young, leaving him only a small, dilapidated boat that had been drifting on the Pearl River for who knows how many years.

The Tanka people, a group that has lived on boats and relied on water for generations, trace their ancestry back to the Baiyue people two thousand years ago. They are known as "water gypsies," and their origins can be traced back to the "water-dwelling Yue people" of the Qin and Han dynasties, the "Tanka households" of the Ming and Qing dynasties, and the "water people" of the Republic of China.

The names may change, but the label of "outcast" seems to be etched into their very bones by mainstream society, forcing them to remain outside of mainstream society for thousands of years.

Even after the victory in the War of Resistance against Japan and the return of the Blue Sky with a White Sun flag, the well-dressed White Party officials still looked at them as if they were floating duckweed on the water, or... livestock that could be driven away at will.

According to rough estimates, there are still about a million Tanka people like him along the southeast coast.

The United States of Southeast Asia, under the rule of Zhang Chi, had a major target for its immigration policy: these oppressed people living on the water who longed for a stable land.

When notices recruiting immigrants were posted along the Pearl River, promising land distribution and equal treatment in Southeast Asia, Ke Liu hardly hesitated.

He sold his nearly broken-down boat for a few silver dollars and then squeezed onto the "Singapore Peace" ship with the crowd.

Leaving this body of water that had never truly embraced him, he felt little attachment, only uncertainty about the unknown future and a faint longing for a down-to-earth life.

The "Singapore Peace" was an older Han Chinese passenger ship that was purchased by the newly established Singapore Shipping Company as Allied spoils of war and was used to transport immigrants.

The cabin was crammed like a sardine can, the stench of sweat, vomit, and children's cries all mixed together, making it suffocating.

As the ship sailed out to sea, the wind and waves grew stronger, and the massive hull began to rock and sway.

For Ke Liu, this was nothing out of the ordinary. He even found a sense of familiarity in the swaying, like when he was a child lying in his mother's arms, drifting with the current.

But for the vast majority of immigrants in the cabin who came from the land, this was undoubtedly a disaster.

Vomiting sounds filled the air, filth spilled across the floor, and a nauseating stench permeated the atmosphere.

Unable to bear the smell any longer, Ke Liu groped his way up the narrow gangway to the upper deck.

It was windier on the deck, but also much cooler.

A few people were leaning against the railing to get some fresh air; most of them looked pale.

Ke Liu found a sheltered corner, squatted down, and stared blankly at the dark blue sea.

Waves crashed against the hull, splashing up white foam, while a flock of seagulls followed behind the stern, emitting loud cries.

"Brother, you have great composure." A slightly hoarse voice sounded from the side.

Ke Liu looked up and saw a middle-aged man wearing a faded old military uniform but without any insignia.

The man was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, with a lean build, dark complexion, deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and a look of weariness from having seen the world, as well as a hint of sharpness that had not been completely worn away.

He held a crumpled cigarette between his fingers, but didn't light it.

"I'm used to it, I grew up floating on water," Ke Liu replied in a muffled voice, subconsciously moving aside to make room for the other person.

He recognized the uniform; it belonged to the Nationalist Army, and he instinctively felt a sense of unease.

The man seemed to notice his awkwardness, smiled, and sat down on the ground next to him, his gaze also fixed on the boundless sea.

“Yes, this shaking is just like being on flat ground for you Tanka people.” He paused, then introduced himself, “My name is Chu Tiankuo, from Sichuan. I used to be… a soldier.”

Ke Liu was somewhat surprised. This man knew they were Tanka people, but there was no contempt in his tone that Ke Liu usually heard.

“My name is Ke Liu, from Guangzhou…on the water.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Have you ever been to our area?”

"During the War of Resistance, my troops were transferred and spent some time in South China." Chu Tiankuo took a deep drag on his unlit cigarette, as if reminiscing. "I saw your Tanka people's fleet of boats, shuttling like arrows on the river, and they also helped us transport supplies. They were all good men."

Hearing this, Ke Liu felt a slight warmth in his heart.

He rarely heard people on land, especially soldiers, speak of them in this way.

"Commander Chu... are you going to Southeast Asia too?" Ke Liu asked curiously. In his mind, officials, especially Nationalist Army officers, should be very prestigious. How could they be crammed onto immigrant ships with poor people like them?

"Sir?" Chu Tiankuo laughed self-deprecatingly, his smile full of bitterness. "Not anymore. Now I'm just like you, an ordinary citizen looking for a way to make a living."

He remained silent for a moment, the sea breeze ruffling his slightly graying temples.

"The Japanese surrendered, and the war was over. Logically, it should have been time for us soldiers to enjoy peace and tranquility. But then an order came from above: 'Keep the soldiers, but not the generals.' We, who came from ragtag troops and had no backing, were kicked aside."

His voice was calm, but Ke Liu could hear the suppressed undercurrent beneath.

Ke Liu didn't quite understand what "miscellaneous troops" or "Whampoa clique" meant, but he understood what "being kicked aside" meant.

"Don't they...give us any resettlement allowance?"

"Settlement allowance?" Chu Tiankuo scoffed, took out a cloth bag from his pocket, and carefully opened it. Inside were several badly worn medals.

"Here, this is my 'settlement allowance'. I've taken quite a few bullets during the Battle of Shanghai, the Battle of Wuhan, the Battle of Changsha, and all I got in return were these few pieces of scrap metal and the words 'The country is in trouble, you all need to find your own way to survive.'"

"A total of 40 yuan in resettlement allowance is barely enough for a haircut, you tell me..."

At this point, the legal tender was no longer the stable currency it was when it was first issued, where one legal tender could be exchanged for one silver dollar.

Chu Tiankuo stared blankly at the medals:

“My wife and kids are still waiting for me to send money back home, but… what can I send them with? If I go to the dock to carry heavy loads, people will say I’m too old and that younger, stronger men are easier to work with.”

Looking at the medals that still faintly reflected light in the dim light, Ke Liu felt a mix of emotions.

He had thought that only the lowly commoners like them were having a hard time, but he never expected that these officers who had once fought with guns would end up in such a state after the victory.

He no longer felt that the other person was superior; instead, he felt a sense of closeness as if they were both fellow sufferers.