CHAPTER 521: CHAPTER 513: THE RUSSIAN TOWN UNDER THE SPECIAL MILITARY OPERATION

At this time of year, post-Lixia and pre-Minor Fullness, a sudden solar rain broke the long-standing humid weather in Yevpatoria Town on the Crimea Peninsula.

The drizzle pattered down on the soil of Yevpatoria Town, rendering the ground, which was as dry as sand and stone, slick and muddy. When you gently stepped on it in leather boots, you could clearly see the process of your feet sinking into the mire. If you pulled hard, you would hear a "squelch" sound as a few drops of mud water splattered out of the mud pit onto the cuffs and boots. The previously scorching air had now also become humid, while the blazing sun hanging in the sky had softened considerably.

Looking out, everywhere in Yevpatoria Town under the fine rain exuded a scene of lush greenery, and the potato sprouts in the fields outside the town were growing sturdily in the rain-nourished soil.

However, for the free people living here, the season of spring and summer transition was undoubtedly the hardest, as they still had to wait three to four months to experience the joy of harvest.

During this time, the free people in Yevpatoria Town could only take out their stored provisions from the previous year to get by.

Of course, this was only the case for some of the slightly poorer free people. For those well-to-do peasants or small noblemen holding some land and serfs, this season was often the best time. They could use their surplus assets to purchase small plots of land from bankrupt free people, or even turn a free person back into a serf.

However, after free people in Yevpatoria Town couldn’t afford the high taxes of the Russian Empire, they would often sell their land cheaply and become members of the Lingjiao Palace along with the Tatars, that is, bandits on horseback.

Nevertheless... whether serfs or free people, wealthy farmers or small nobles, none of them would know that an unforeseen disaster was about to strike this town.

When the large clock hanging in the town church struck 4 pm, several warships appeared on the sea outside Yevpatoria Town, approaching the town at great speed.

The sailor, responsible for the watchtower, thought it was a Russian Imperial support fleet when he saw such a number of fleets on the sea through a telescope. But when he found that the flags hoisted on the fleet were not those of the Russian Empire, but the tricolor flag of the French Empire (the sailor did not know which country the tricolor flag represented; he only thought the flag style was different from the Russian Empire), his face immediately changed from joy to panic.

The sailor hurriedly ran from the watchtower to the town, shouting: "Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!"

The residents of the town, living peacefully and happily, showed curious expressions upon hearing the sailor’s shout. They didn’t understand why the sailor was so panic-stricken.

Just when the sailor was at a loss, the town mayor of Yevpatoria Town and the town’s military leader (militia chief), customs head, and epidemic prevention commander, Nicolai Ivanovich Kasina Cheyev, came to the sailor with an umbrella and asked, "What’s wrong?"

As the most esteemed and powerful rural noble in the locality, the white-haired Kasina Cheyev was the town’s stabilizing force.

Upon seeing Mayor Kasina Cheyev, the sailor’s anxious heart settled down quite a bit, and he quickly recounted what he saw from the watchtower to the mayor.

After hearing the sailor’s words, Mayor Kasina Cheyev also showed a grave expression on his face: "Describe to me carefully, what color of the flag hanging on the warship?"

The sailor thought carefully for a moment, and then reported to Kasina Cheyev: "I remember the flag had blue, white, and red colors!"

After hearing the sailor’s description of the flag’s colors, Mayor Kasina Cheyev was relieved a lot.

The flag described by the sailor was clearly the tricolor flag of the French Empire. As long as it was not the flag of the Ottoman Empire, everything was still negotiable.

If it were the flag of the Ottoman Empire, then their town would probably face a massacre.

No one knew better than Mayor Kasina Cheyev about the barbarity of the Turks. When Mayor Kasina Cheyev was young, he was also a member of the Russian Imperial Army.

Back then, under the command of the great Emperor Alexander, he fought with both the French Empire’s army and the Ottoman Empire.

In his view, the battles with the French Empire’s army were still considered gentlemen’s battles, as the French Empire’s army maintained a policy of not wantonly slaughtering prisoners.

On the other hand, after defeating the Russian Empire’s army, the Ottoman Empire’s favorite thing to do was to wantonly massacre the wounded who were forced to stay in place.

Even on their own turf, they carried out massacres.

"Luckily! Luckily!" Mayor Kasina Cheyev sighed with relief, murmuring.

"Mayor! Are the Turks coming over?" The sailor’s anxious voice reached Mayor Kasina Cheyev’s ears.

Kasina Cheyev steadied himself, shook his head at the sailor, and then loudly responded: "Everyone, please rest assured! This is a fleet from a civilized nation!"

Mayor Kasina Cheyev’s words made the residents in the town feel slightly soothed.

"Father, what should we do now?" The person standing beside Kasina Cheyev holding an umbrella for him was his son, who was also the deputy officer of the entire Kasina Cheyev Town. He commanded a militia unit of over a hundred men, and he suggested to Kasina Cheyev in a lowered voice, "Shouldn’t we report to Prince Menshikov over at Alma?"

"Foolish!" Kasina Cheyev glared fiercely at his son. "Reporting at a time like this, aren’t you afraid they’ll directly execute you!"

Upon hearing his father’s reprimand, Kasina Cheyev’s son instinctively shrank his neck and said, "Didn’t you say they are civilized troops!"

"No matter how civilized, they won’t let you report back!" Kasina Cheyev said with frustration at his son’s lack of understanding, "Use your brains and think it over. They are enemies of the Russian Empire, and they won’t be lenient with informants!"

"Then what should we do now? Just wait here idly?" Kasina Cheyev’s son inquired once more from his learned father.

"What else can we do! Take your men and head to the dock!" Kasina Cheyev instructed his son with resignation.

"Ah!" Kasina Cheyev’s son begged in horror, "Father, my troops can’t possibly fight them!"

"Who told you to fight them! I want you to gather your forces and greet them! Only by doing this can we let them believe we don’t wish to confront them! Do you understand?" Kasina Cheyev chastised his son.

"Oh!" Kasina Cheyev’s son nodded, half-comprehending, and then worriedly asked, "Father, will those troops seize our family’s property?"

As the wealthiest person in Yevpatoria Town, Kasina Cheyev had accumulated tens of thousands of francs over twenty years by leveraging his position.

"Just think of it as misfortune averted by losing money!" Kasina Cheyev’s face showed a painful expression.

Indeed, as his son had said, although the French army was civilized, their civility only extended to not killing people; plundering a small town’s property was routine.

"Yes!" Kasina Cheyev’s son replied.

...

As two ironclads and three troop carriers were nearing the dock of Yevpatoria Town, the observer on the ironclad used binoculars to see Kasina Cheyev at the dock.

At that moment, Kasina Cheyev had a white flag in his left hand and a dust-covered tricolor flag in his right, looking like a typical mayor. This sight made the lookout laugh heartily.

After the laughter subsided, the sailor on the lookout informed the captain on the deck of the ironclad about the town.

The captain then similarly reported this situation to Brigadier General MacMahon inside the ironclad.

"Yevpatoria Town has surrendered?" Brigadier General MacMahon inquired of the captain, somewhat disinterested.

"That’s right!" The captain responded to Brigadier General MacMahon.

"Then appoint someone to go over and communicate with them!" Brigadier General MacMahon shook his head and sighed, knowing the town likely lacked any regular Russian Imperial Army troops.

Thinking about the exhausting mobilization efforts that culminated in such a result, Brigadier General MacMahon felt a bit frustrated.

Thus, under Brigadier General MacMahon’s orders, the ironclads and troop carriers anchored less than 100 meters from the dock, and a steam launch was lowered from the ironclad, carrying the negotiator in charge.

When the launch reached the dock, Kasina Cheyev hurried forward to welcome the visitor.

"Welcome to the French Empire’s army to Yevpatoria Town. I am the town’s mayor, Kasina Cheyev!" Kasina Cheyev introduced himself to the representative.

"I represent Brigadier General MacMahon! Now I formally inform you that your town has been occupied by us! If you wish to resist, then the consequences will be on your own heads!" the negotiator stated firmly to Kasina Cheyev, "Conversely, if you are willing to cooperate with us, we can guarantee the safety of life and property for everyone in your town!"

"Willing! Willing! Our town is willing to cooperate with the French Empire’s army!" Kasina Cheyev quickly replied.

"Very well! I hope we can have pleasant cooperation in the time to come!" The negotiator extended his hand to Kasina Cheyev.

"Pleasant cooperation! Pleasant cooperation!" Kasina Cheyev said with a fawning smile.