ATPnovel Chapter 65 Writing a Book and Gaining Fame
Chapter 65 Writing a Book and Gaining Fame
On May 31, the rainy season swept through Luzon with humid heat. The air was so sticky that it felt like you could wring water out of it, and every breath was heavy with moisture.
Wearing an oilcloth raincoat, Chen Feng, followed closely by Tian Gang and Kong Yunfei, their boots crunching through the mud, slowly walked into the heavily guarded ammunition depot.
Chu Xiongxing, on duty, was wearing a new blue-gray military uniform and showing it off to the new recruits in his platoon: "See this? This uniform was personally awarded by the general! I don't even wear it for training. You better train hard, and if you make a contribution in the future, you can earn this honor too!"
Chen Feng chuckled to himself as he watched this scene.
The issue of military uniforms was indeed not well thought out.
This military uniform, designed to resemble German dress uniforms, certainly looks impressive during parades, but the soldiers would never want to ruin it while crawling and rolling around in the ground.
He still wears a short jacket during regular training, but this outfit has become a rare symbol of honor.
However, Feng Qinlan had already led the female workers to rush to make training uniforms. These things were simple to make and the whole camp could be equipped with them in no time.
The recruit was reaching out to touch the fabric of his uniform when he caught sight of Chen Feng out of the corner of his eye. He immediately stood up straight and saluted: "General!"
"Don't be shy, just take a look around." Chen Feng nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the warehouse like a searchlight.
Firearms and ammunition were neatly arranged, with the muzzles all pointing upwards. Ammunition boxes were stacked according to model and clearly labeled. The soldiers on duty stood up straight, and no one fired without authorization, demonstrating strict discipline.
He nodded in satisfaction, and without lingering, turned and went straight back to the stone house in the core area.
Today, only his apprentice Pang Li is on duty at the stone house; Qian Biao and the rest of the guards have taken turns going on leave to visit their families.
The soldiers had been training hard for nearly a month, and there was no battle at the moment. Except for those who were seizing the gold, Chen Feng specially approved a day off in batches so that everyone could go home to visit their families, which was also a reward for their hard work over the past few days.
Pushing open the stone house door, Pang Li immediately trotted forward eagerly, handing him a cup of hot tea: "Master, I've been practicing horse stance every day for the past few days, my legs are almost numb! When are you going to teach me real kung fu? Like that backhand disarming move of yours, it's so cool!"
Chen Feng took the hot tea, sipped it, and smiled. "What's the rush? Let's get our stances on the ground first!"
Upon hearing this, Pang Li immediately took a step back, firmly assuming a horse stance with his back straight, like a wooden stake driven into the ground.
Chen Feng lifted his foot and hooked Pang Li's weight with a precise hook, though the force was not great. Pang Li immediately stumbled and fell onto the muddy ground, wincing in pain but not uttering a sound.
"Our Chinese martial arts are different from Western boxing!"
Chen Feng leaned down, looking down at him, his tone cold and hard yet admonishing: "The most important thing is the basics. Practicing the horse stance builds a foundation, training strength strengthens the physique, and tempering muscles and bones hones endurance. You can't be lazy in any of these areas!"
"I've been practicing diligently every day since I was seven, without stopping even in the dead of winter. It took me five whole years to even get a grasp of the moves. You've only practiced for half a month, and you think you can reach the top in one step?"
As he spoke, he took off his wet raincoat.
Pang Li quickly got up, took the bag, shook off the rainwater, and bowed deeply, saying, "Master is right. I was too eager for quick success. I will definitely calm down and practice the basics from now on."
Chen Feng pulled up a chair and sat down, then asked, "How's the reading you were asked to do going? Which chapter of the Analects are you on?"
Pang Li scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed, and stammered, unable to speak.
Wu Dequan, who was writing lesson plans in front of the blackboard, scoffed: "This kid only knows how to practice martial arts all day long. How can he concentrate on studying? He's been studying the Analects for half a month, and he can't even recite 'learn and practice regularly' properly, let alone understand its meaning!"
"They should be punished!"
Chen Feng's face darkened, and his voice suddenly became stern, "Practicing martial arts without studying will only turn you into a brainless brute! Take the Analects with you to solitary confinement. You can only come out when you can read through the first three chapters and explain their general meaning!"
"what!"
Pang Li's face fell. He opened his mouth as if to beg for mercy, but seeing his master's livid face, he dared not say anything more. He could only pick up the Analects on the table with a sullen expression and walk out the door with his head hanging low.
Chen Feng chuckled as he watched his retreating figure, then turned and went into the inner room, where he hunched over his desk and began writing furiously.
"World history is a grand and sweeping history, with the rise and fall of great powers forming an important chapter. Since ancient times, the law of the jungle has been the rule of survival. Only by adapting to the times and innovating can one gain a foothold in chaotic times and achieve lasting hegemony..."
"Since the 15th century, Portugal, Spain, the Netherlands, England, France and other countries have risen one after another, relying on the advantages of navigation, the wealth of colonization, or the innovation of their systems, all leaving a strong mark on the world stage..."
"The saying goes, 'Learn from history to understand the present and face the future.' Having suffered so much bullying, the Chinese people, in order to protect themselves, must first understand the global trends and the secrets of the rise of great powers. Only then can they feel ashamed and then rise up to catch up..."
"Portugal, located in southwestern Europe on the Iberian Peninsula, is a small country with scarce resources, yet it pioneered the Age of Discovery..."
He wrote with focused concentration, the pen tip scratching softly on the paper.
The Chinese population in Luzon is too small, and with its existing strength, it is difficult to resist the great powers and various forces. To attract talents from all over the world, it is necessary to reach out to the entire Chinese world.
Although his reputation has improved somewhat due to the destruction of the San Antonio warehouse, it is still limited to Luzon. Only by writing a book and publishing "The Rise of Great Powers" can he make a name for himself, attract like-minded people, and inject stronger power into the Chinese Free Army.
After nearly three days of writing, Chen Feng finally finished the chapter on Portugal. The manuscript, consisting of more than 35,000 words, was piled up on the table in a thick stack.
When he put down his pen, his knuckles were already a little sore.
"Report!"
The shouts of soldiers came from outside the door. Chen Feng put away his draft paper, walked out of the inner room and into the hall.
Over the past three days, the captured craftsmen have worked day and night to build a simple school in the camp. The stone house is now entirely for his use, with the back half serving as a bedroom and study, and the front half as a meeting room and reception room, all arranged simply and neatly.
Zheng Mingsong folded his umbrella, stomped hard on the muddy soles of his boots, and complained, "Brother Chen, why did you make me make this trip myself in such heavy rain? The road from Manila to here is so muddy you could sink a horse's hoof into it!"
Chen Feng took his umbrella, gestured for the guard to bring hot tea, and said with a smile, "This matter is of great importance, and I must entrust it to Brother Zheng in person. By the way, did you bring the US dollars I asked you to bring?"
"I did bring it, but you're asking for five thousand dollars, which is far more than my personal assets."
Zheng Mingsong patted his bulging collar, pulled over a stool and sat down. He straightened his oily, parted hair, which was wet from the rain, and said seriously, "This money is borrowed from the Zheng family's public account. My father has granted you interest-free loans because of your recent rise to fame, but you must repay it as soon as possible, since the family business also has cash flow pressures."
To prevent the news about the gold from leaking, Chen Feng did not explicitly state it in his message, but only instructed Zheng Mingsong to personally bring five thousand US dollars.
This guy is really loyal; he raised the money without asking why and rushed over from Manila in the rain in just one day.
This was partly due to the friendship between the two men, but it was also inseparable from the growing prestige of the Chinese Free Army after he led his troops to destroy the San Antonio supply depot.
Chen Feng smiled without saying a word, and pushed open the bedroom door: "Brother Zheng, please come in!"
"What are you doing?" Zheng Mingsong was startled and quickly clutched his collar, looking at him warily. "Brother Chen, although we have a relationship, five thousand US dollars is not a small amount. You can't..."
"If I wanted to rob you, I could do it anywhere. Why would I invite you into my house?"
Chen Feng was both amused and exasperated. "Come in, I have a treasure worth five thousand US dollars, I'll sell it to you today."
"Brother Chen, what kind of treasure could be worth five thousand US dollars? Let me make it clear first, I'm not interested in antiques or calligraphy..."
Seeing that he looked frank and genuine, Zheng Mingsong realized that he had misunderstood. He quickly followed him into the inner room, but stopped abruptly before he could finish speaking, his eyes widening like copper bells.
The gold brick used as a paperweight on the table gleamed with a cold, metallic light in the dim light.
Zheng Mingsong's eyes widened. He quickly stepped forward, picked up the gold brick, and weighed it in his hand, his voice filled with shock: "This gold brick weighs at least ten kilograms! It's extremely pure, with a uniform color. Where did you get it?"
Seeing his reaction, Chen Feng knew that Javier hadn't revealed the story of stealing the gold from the church cemetery. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled, "Never mind where it came from, just tell me, is this treasure worth five thousand dollars?"
"It's worth far more than that!" Zheng Mingsong exclaimed, delighted. "Ten kilograms of pure gold, at market price, would be worth over sixteen hundred US dollars!"
"It's worth far more than that!"
Zheng Mingsong caressed the gold bars with obvious delight, his face beaming with joy. "At the current market price, one ounce of gold is worth about $20. Ten kilograms of gold is a full 322 ounces, worth $6440!"
As he spoke, he eagerly pulled a cloth bag from his pocket, which was full of brand-new US dollar bills, some of which were wet from rain or sweat and stuck together in a crumpled mess.
While counting the money, Chen Feng casually asked, "Does your Zheng family operate any bookstores or newspapers within Qing territory?"
Zheng Mingsong shook his head: "My Zheng family mainly deals in sugarcane, and also in spices and timber. Although we have dabbled in other industries, we have never run a newspaper or bookstore for the Qing government. However, my father had a close relationship with Mr. Huang Xiexun, the editor-in-chief of the Shen Bao newspaper, and they often corresponded. Why are you asking this?"
"Of course, it's about publishing a book!" Chen Feng chuckled, tapping a thick stack of manuscript papers on the table with his fingertips.
"You? Published a book?"
Zheng Mingsong seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. He immediately bent over and laughed so hard that he pounded his thighs and almost knocked the gold bricks on the table to the ground.
He steadied himself against the table for a long while, his chest still heaving, and forced a laugh, saying, "Brother Chen, it's not that I underestimate you! Your ability to fight on the battlefield and lead troops is unmatched in Luzon. But publishing a book requires skill in writing and knowledge of worldly affairs, so please don't tease me!"