Chapter 111: The Protective Charm

At noon the next day, east of Taizhou Prefecture, in the waters of Sanmu Mountain.

The Santa Ana was anchored here, with seven bird boats moored around her.

"A fishing boat is approaching!" the lookout shouted.

Lin Qian walked up to the poop deck, pulled out his telescope, and looked — only to see the fishing boat slowly raising a black flag.

This was precisely the signal Lin Qian had agreed upon with Bai Qing.

The fishing boat drew closer, and through the telescope, he could already see the Bai siblings standing at the bow, waving.

Lin Qian relaxed, and ordered his men: "Lower the rope ladder."

After a while, the fishing boat came alongside, and Bai Qing called for the galleon to extend its crane boom and hoist up two wooden crates.

The Bai siblings climbed up the rope ladder onto the ship.

"Helmsman!" The two clasped their fists in salute to Lin Qian.

"So, when you passed Haimen Guard, they didn't give you any trouble?" Lin Qian asked with a smile.

Bai Qing teased: "A boat full of stinking fish — the military gentlemen didn't want to come anywhere near."

Lin Qian: "Don't talk on deck. Let's go to the mess."

Bai Qing and Bailangzai each carried a wooden crate, following Lin Qian into the officers' mess.

"How did it go?" Lin Qian asked the moment he sat down.

Bai Qing set down the crate and rubbed his shoulders: "Just as the helmsman guessed, the Lin father and son didn't last a few days before sneaking up the mountain. We took men and followed them, and without much effort, we got this."

As he spoke, Bailangzai had already taken two clay jars out of the crates and set them on the table.

Lin Qian looked closely — the two jars were identical in form, made of coarse pottery, knee-high, thick-walled, and covered in dust and dirt.

Bailangzai removed the jar seals, and a faint golden glow could be seen reflecting from within.

Lin Qian glanced inside, then casually took out a gold bar to examine it.

The gold bar was not a standard rectangular ingot, but had a curved top and a narrowed waist — the form of a gold sycee.

Turning it over, he saw the gold sycee bore no inscription, but one side had cut marks — someone had evidently scraped the inscription off.

The Lin ancestors must have foreseen that by the time their descendants came to use this, the family would have declined, with no trustworthy servants left, and that silver would be too heavy to transport — so they buried gold instead.

Gold sycees of this standard were generally used by the state treasury, and would always bear markings of when they were cast and from where they were shipped.

The Lin ancestors deliberately scraped off the inscriptions so that when their descendants used the gold, they could avoid being traced and save themselves trouble.

Lin Qian sighed inwardly — for the Lin ancestor to have hidden away this jar of gold and thought so thoroughly ahead, he must have been a man of exceptional ability.

Alas, a gentleman's legacy is cut off after five generations.

In the end, the road must be walked by the descendants themselves. When the Lin family took a wrong step, their ancestor's shade could only serve as a wedding dress for others.

Lin Qian had someone summon the brothers, and another bring a steelyard scale, intending to weigh and tally the gold into the accounts in front of everyone.

While waiting for the men to arrive, Bai Qing hesitated for a moment, then told of how she had privately rescued Concubine Li.

In closing, Bai Qing said: "I acted on my own authority. Please punish me, helmsman."

Lin Qian frowned in thought for a moment: "Is that Concubine Li truly mad?"

Bailangzai: "Truly mad. When she was being drowned in the river, she was both crying and laughing."

"Did she see your faces?"

"No, we were masked."

In this world, good people and mad people cannot survive.

Concubine Li's final fate would either be a short stretch of comfortable days before vanishing mysteriously, murdered by someone.

Or the fishing couple's silver would be discovered, and the whole family killed.

The lives of the lowly are like weeds — this is reality.

Lin Qian thought it over carefully. Whether Concubine Li's madness was real or feigned, as long as she was masked, there was no flaw.

Not to mention that the Ming had no officials who investigated cases with such diligence.

Even if one existed, tracing the vine to the melon and reaching Concubine Li, they would at most learn that the Bai siblings had used a fishing boat to commit the deed — they could never trace it any further.

Even if a figure like Judge Bao himself existed and traced it to the sea bandits, what could he do?

Lin Qian had already chosen the scapegoat.

Once they returned to Nan'ao and handed over the scapegoat's corpse, the case would become ironclad — even if Bao Zheng were reborn, there would be nothing he could do.

"Brother Bai, I hear you've brought back something good?"

Lei Sanxiang's voice came from outside the cabin.

Behind him, Zheng Zhilong, Chen Jiao, and Scholar Zhou filed in, with Scholar Zhou carrying a steelyard scale.

Lin Qian recounted how Bai Qing had seized the gold, and everyone exclaimed in wonder.

A crewman handed out tea.

The men drank tea as they watched Scholar Zhou weigh the gold.

Gold is dense — it didn't look like much in volume, but it weighed heavily on the scale.

Scholar Zhou set the weighed pieces aside, and before long a stack had piled up on the table, making the whole cabin gleam with golden light.

Lin Qian now understood why everyone in the world loved gold — this yellow, gleaming, heavy appearance was truly enticing.

Two jars of gold set on the table had a visual impact far beyond silver of equal value.

Scholar Zhou weighed slowly, but the brothers didn't urge him on, watching with considerable amusement.

Soon, a cup of tea was finished.

The gold in both jars was nearly at its bottom.

"Eh?" Scholar Zhou craned his neck to look into the jar and exclaimed, "There's something at the bottom."

Lei Sanxiang curiously craned over: "So there is — looks like a letter."

"Bring it out and take a look. Be careful with it," Lin Qian said.

The letter had been pressed in the jar for who knew how long. Scholar Zhou feared it would crumble at the slightest touch, so he simply turned the jar upside down, patted it, and let the letter fall out on its own.

After moving the pottery jar aside, a yellowed-black envelope lay on the table.

Scholar Zhou handled it with care. The letter had been sitting for who knew how long — it had mildewed and stuck together badly, now like mud, utterly impossible to unfold.

After much effort, he peeled the envelope off and barely managed to spread the letter open. Most of the writing had faded beyond recognition, leaving only fragments of words that let one guess at the meaning.

"Second Brother, what does it say? Read it out quick!" Lei Sanxiang fidgeted impatiently, scratching his ears and cheeks.

Scholar Zhou said nothing, bending over to study it for a long while. Then he straightened up and sighed: "This is a letter from the Lin ancestors to their descendants. The gist of it is urging people toward goodness, admonishing descendants to keep kind thoughts in their hearts so the family may endure through the generations."

Lin Qian was slightly surprised: "A letter from over four hundred years ago?"

Scholar Zhou shook his head: "The letter avoids the taboo name of Emperor Chengzu, so it was likely left behind during the Yongle era."

Lei Sanxiang curled his lip, his face full of disappointment: "Oh, I thought it meant treasure was buried somewhere else too."

Zheng Zhilong sneered: "Knowing their descendants have fallen on hard times, and still spouting false benevolence — not a word about anything that matters."

Chen Jiao remarked with feeling: "This jar sat in the earth for over two hundred years, and the gold still shines, but a letter full of false righteousness rotted away. There's something amusing in that."

Lin Qian took a sip of tea: "Big Brother's words carry some depth."

Chen Jiao was taken aback: "I just said it off the top of my head."

Scholar Zhou sighed: "If the Lin family had remembered the ancestral precept of treating others with kindness, they never would have come to disaster today."

Zheng Zhilong retorted: "In this world, the blindly good-hearted die first. If you want to accomplish great things, you must harden your heart."

The brothers drank tea and sighed with emotion together.

"By the way, we still haven't asked how much gold we seized," Zheng Zhilong suddenly said.

"Right! We were so busy cursing that damned prefecture, we forgot the most important thing." Lei Sanxiang slapped his forehead and looked at Scholar Zhou.

Scholar Zhou picked up the account book and read: "Total weight of gold: three thousand two hundred eighty-six liang and seven qian."

"Uh. Is that a lot or not?" Lei Sanxiang asked.

In the Great Ming, apart from large-scale official transactions, common folk rarely used gold, so Lei Sanxiang and the others were unfamiliar with the exchange rate.

Scholar Zhou explained: "It's roughly equivalent to over thirty-two thousand liang of silver."

Only then did everyone break into delighted smiles.

After celebrating for a while, everyone turned to look at Lin Qian. Now that the job was done and the money was in hand, it was time for the division of spoils.

Lin Qian said calmly: "No rush. There's still a protective talisman we need to go fetch first."

Two days later, on the sea east of Fuzhou Prefecture.

Guantang Mountain.

The galleon broke through the morning mist, sailing silently across the sea.

This place was held by a band of sea bandits led by Li Zhong — precisely the protective talisman Lin Qian had chosen.

According to Scholar Zhou's intelligence, this band of pirates numbered about two hundred men with thirty boats.

They acted with brutal ferocity and arrogant swagger, not only plundering the surrounding seas but frequently coming ashore to raid and harass.

The bandit chief Li Zhong ruled his men loosely, and subordinates were often caught by the authorities because they got carried away with their plundering.

If not for the corruption of the southeastern coastal defense, this band of sea bandits would have been wiped out by the authorities long ago given their conduct.

Li Zhong's pirates plundered not only merchant ships but fishing boats as well, earning an extremely poor reputation among the common folk.

They could be called notorious.

Perhaps because they had committed too many crimes in recent years, Li Zhong's band had spent the last few months lying low at Guantang Mountain, committing no major offenses.

This also meant their raid on the Lin estate would have no conflict in timing, and no alibi either.

They were the perfect scapegoat.

According to Scholar Zhou, Li Zhong's wanted poster depicted him as ferocious as a demon, so his facial features could no longer be trusted, but his build was described as similar to Lin Qian's.

Moreover, Li Zhong's native place was in Zhejiang, and his accent when speaking was similar to Lin Qian's as well.

Everything matched up so well that even Scholar Zhou felt it was practically heaven's will for this man to serve as the substitute for death.

As the galleon sailed slowly on and the sun rose in the east, the mist over the sea gradually dispersed.

In the morning light, a mountain peak could be faintly seen appearing on the sea's surface.

After sailing on for some time, the peak gradually resolved into a sea island, with a few scattered small boats visible around it.

"Off the bow, three thousand paces, enemy ships sighted!"

The lookout's voice came down from the mainmast.

Lin Qian said nothing; the galleon continued on its set course.

Sailing to within five hundred paces of Guantang Mountain, a harbor appeared between two mountain ridges.

Within it were moored over thirty vessels of various sizes, and on the sandy shore stood several dozen makeshift tents — clearly Li Zhong's camp.

Lin Qian took out his telescope. In the camp, the pirates had only just woken up. Some were stretching on the beach, while several others shaded their eyes with their hands and looked toward the galleon, apparently having already spotted the incoming ship.

Unexpectedly, the pirates reacted extremely slowly, unhurriedly boarding their ships, raising sails, and weighing anchor — as if not responding to an attack but rather heading out to fish.

Their level of vigilance was far inferior to Li Kuiqi's men, barely on par with the reaction speed of the Great Ming's camp soldiers.

Lin Qian lowered his telescope. He felt that wiping out this band of pirates would pose no difficulty — the Santa Ana alone would be more than enough.

The hard part was catching all the pirates in one net, preventing anyone from fleeing and leaking word of what had happened.

To that end, Lin Qian had already stationed seven bird boats in ambush on the eastern and western flanks of Guantang Mountain. Should any pirates scatter in flight, the bird boats would give chase.

All Lin Qian had to do was kill as many as possible before the pirates could flee.

"Off the bow, enemy harbor at three hundred paces!"

The lookout updated the distance.

Lin Qian commanded: "Rudder to starboard, lower sails, port side to face the enemy!"

Chen Jiao shouted the order: "Turn the rudder to starboard, lower the sails, port side facing the enemy!"

The galleon gradually turned broadside, stopping directly in front of the harbor, its starboard gunports opening to reveal the dark maws of cannon barrels.

In the harbor of Guantang Mountain, the pirates watched the turning galleon, all somewhat baffled.

The sea bandits had never seen firearms that could fire from two to three hundred paces away.

"Boss, what does the government fleet mean by this?"

"I don't know..."

Before the words even faded, they were drowned out by the thunderous roar of cannon fire.

A puff of white smoke rose from the galleon's port side, and towering columns of water exploded all around the harbor.

The water columns fell back down like a torrential downpour.

Before long, another volley of cannon fire came crashing in.

In the harbor, a Haicang ship took a direct hit, its hull instantly blasted to splinters—the solid iron shot, its momentum undiminished, then tore through two more ships moored behind it, shredding them to pieces.

Chunks of wood and flesh flew everywhere, raining down and splattering into the sea with a clatter.

The pirates snapped out of their stupor and scrambled aboard their ships, preparing to meet the enemy.

The bandit leader Li Zhong drew his blade, strode boldly to the bow, and pointed at the galleon.

The surrounding sea bandits drew their weapons one after another, morale high, shouting and yelling as they charged toward the Santa Ana.

In Li Zhong's view, the government forces had only a single gunboat, and its gunnery was inaccurate—as long as he could get close enough to board, victory was assured.

On the stern deck, Lin Qian felt a slight surprise at the ferocity of these sea bandits—soldiers of a Ming guard station would most likely have fled by now.

Still, the pirates charging straight at him suited his purposes perfectly.

They were destined to be sacrificial lambs anyway; Lin Qian had no intention of leaving survivors. He ordered in a low voice: "Raise the sails, heading due west."

Chen Jiao: "Raise the sails, heading due west."

At this moment the northwest wind was blowing strong across the sea. As the Santa Ana sailed due west, the pirates would have to chase toward the northwest.

Li Kuiqi had tasted the bitterness of being downwind—now it was Li Zhong's turn.

The Santa Ana sailed swiftly, while Li Zhong's fleet zigzagged, their course almost entirely within the galleon's firing arc—nothing less than moving targets on the open sea.

The Santa Ana's cannonballs flew as if they cost nothing, firing without end.

Even the rigging sailors up in the masts were choked with the smell of sulfur.

After five rounds of bombardment, the sea bandit fleet finally came up with a solution—spreading their remaining twenty-odd ships apart across the sea.

Lin Qian had just pulled off a major score and was flush with wealth; he paid no heed to ammunition consumption. Even with the enemy ships scattered, he kept blasting away regardless.

After another ten rounds of cannon fire, three enemy ships were reduced to clouds of wood splinters.

The remaining pirate ships scattered in flight, only to find themselves entangled by several Bird ships.

The Bird ships didn't close in, keeping a distance of just over ten paces while firing muskets and crossbows.

The Bird ships were fast, and the pirates couldn't break away. They were pursued for over a thousand paces across the sea, suffering heavy casualties, until ship after ship surrendered in submission.

Not a single ship on the entire island escaped.

Lin Qian ordered the prisoners brought ashore, and the dead bodies fished out of the water as well.

This whole ordeal took even longer than the battle itself. Finally, before supper, the prisoners were bound in a line and made to kneel on the beach.

"Twenty-three prisoners in total!" Lü Zhou counted and shouted the number to Lin Qian.

In front of the prisoners lay more than thirty soaking wet corpses—these were the floating bodies they'd managed to fish out with great difficulty.

The other bodies had been blown into fragments by the cannon fire, impossible to recover.

Lin Qian ordered the prisoners to identify Li Zhong among the corpses.

The prisoners all looked toward one corpse on the ground.

The body was indeed of tall stature and medium build, but with utterly unremarkable features—bearing no resemblance at all to the portrait on the wanted poster.

Lin Qian moved closer to look. The man had taken an arrow in the back and a musket ball to the chest—he was deader than dead.

The corpse wore a Hetian jade Buddha on its chest, quite valuable indeed—suggesting the man was no low-ranking figure.

According to Li Zhong's men, Li Zhong's weapon was set with a green gemstone, but unfortunately it had fallen into the sea and couldn't be used to prove his identity.

But that didn't matter. Lin Qian had someone fetch several pieces of precious jewelry from the ship's hold and stuff them into Li Zhong's bosom.

These ornaments had been looted from the Lin estate—a tidy case of "caught with the goods" to seal the matter.

"Helmsman, what should we do with the prisoners?" Lü Zhou asked.

The island was short on manpower, and these prisoners would have made excellent labor—but with only thirty-odd corpses now, the numbers were far from sufficient. They'd have to make use of these men's heads instead.

"Cut them down."

At the same time Lin Qian was wiping out Li Zhong.

Another band of pirates on Shuangyu Island in Zhejiang also met with utter catastrophe.

Amidst the blazing flames, the Shuangyu Shipmaster was brought forward by Zhao Ba, his arms pinned behind his back.

The Guard Commander of Haimen Station raised his eyes to size up the man before him. He was rather short, thin of frame, with no sharpness in his gaze—no ferocity to be seen either.

He bore little resemblance to the bandit leader described in the Lin estate's testimony.

But having fallen into his hands, even the most ferocious bandit became dough to be shaped. If he said it was so, then it was so—even if it wasn't.

"So you're the Shuangyu Shipmaster?" The Guard Commander spoke coldly, in the official tongue.

The Shuangyu Shipmaster grinned through his bloody mouth, forcing a smile: "This humble one is called Sun Er, sir. Sun Er's eyes failed to recognize Mount Tai—I don't know how I've offended you, sir. If you could spare my life, I... ah—!"

Zhao Ba wrenched his arm upward. Sun Er's shoulders cracked and popped as his face was pressed into the ground, tears and snot streaming out together in his agony.

"Answer whatever the general asks." Zhao Ba said in a cold voice.

"Yes, yes!" Sun Er hurriedly agreed.

"Raise your head." said the Guard Commander.

Zhao Ba released his arm, and Sun Er looked up, meeting the Guard Commander's demonic gaze.

"Did you cut the river-blocking chain at Haimen Guard?"

"Huh?" Sun Er was utterly bewildered.

Before he could answer, the Guard Commander asked again: "Did you raid the Lin family estate in Huangyan?"

"General, what are you talking about?" Sun Er trembled all over, feeling utterly wronged.

"Lin Jiren and Lin Zhili have gone missing—did you kill them?" The Guard Commander's voice grew colder.

Sun Er's face flushed red with agitation: "General, I don't even know those two men!"

The Guard Commander smiled: "You're from Jiangzhe, aren't you?"

Sun Er was scared out of his wits, desperate to rip out his own heart and lungs to prove his innocence—how could he dare not tell the truth: "This humble one's ancestral home is Ningbo."

The Guard Commander: "You speak the official tongue well enough, but your accent can't be hidden. Take him away."

Sun Er cried out his innocence repeatedly.

The Guard Commander knew there was a difference between the Ningbo and Taizhou accents, but he didn't care.

The man was already in custody—just force a confession out of him and the case would be sealed!

After several more days at sea, Nan'ao Island came into view in the distance, and the crew all felt excited.

Lin Qian ordered the fleet to sail past Shen'ao Harbor and dock at the Houjiang Bay wharf.

Only a single bird boat sailed toward Shen'ao Harbor.

After the bird boat docked, crewmen carried out a fishing net from the hold—inside the net were dozens of salt-preserved heads—and walked toward the Regional Commander's residence.

Huang Hetai heard the news and immediately came out of the residence to receive them. Seeing the heads, his heart tightened, and he hurriedly asked: "Navigator Bai, what is the meaning of this?"

Bailangzai had the crewmen set down the heads and said: "These are the helmsman's gift to you."

Having said this, he picked up a wooden stick, rummaged through the heads, and revealed a complete corpse.

"He is Li Zhong, a sea bandit on the Fujian coast. He had just committed crimes in Zhejiang, and was intercepted and killed by Garrison Commander Huang as he fled south. Congratulations."

Huang Hetai hesitated: "This humble officer only just submitted the merit report for killing Li Kuiqi not long ago. Now another sea bandit chieftain killed—with just my thousand-odd aging camp soldiers..."

Bailangzai cut him off: "The helmsman says you're an old hand at officialdom—you'll find a way to explain it."

Huang Hetai could only smile bitterly.

The crewmen on the bird boat made another trip and carried over a chest. When opened, it contained jewelry, gems, and loose bits of silver.

All were things not worth much or hard to convert into cash.

Bailangzai explained: "These are evidence of Li Zhong's crimes. You can submit them together later. In a while, the helmsman will also send a few broken ships over—count those as your captures too."

Huang Hetai smiled wryly and clasped his hands: "The helmsman thinks of everything."

"Mm." Bailangzai turned to leave, then after two steps added: "Oh, right—the helmsman said to invite you to a banquet aboard the Santa Ana in three days."

A Hongmen banquet? Huang Hetai's heart tightened as he pondered how to refuse.

Bailangzai added: "The helmsman also said to rest assured—it's not a Hongmen banquet."

Huang Hetai's face stiffened, then he laughed awkwardly: "Hahaha, the helmsman jokes. Even if it were a Hongmen banquet, I would gladly attend."

Three days later, at dusk.

At Houjiang Bay harbor, several fishing boats could be seen returning from afar.

After docking, the fishermen came out of their cabins and called for people to help carry the cargo.

Before long, crates of fish catches were carried out of the fishing boats. Those fish were extremely lively, leaping about ceaselessly in the crates.

Occasionally one strong enough would leap straight out of the crate, slap a dockworker across the face, then fall into the sea beside the pier and regain its freedom.

On the beach, five large woks of oil had already been set up, the lard inside burning hot, continuously giving off sizzling smoke.

Lei Sanxiang had long been waiting impatiently at the side.

A dockworker carried over a crate of fish, and Lei Sanxiang eagerly grabbed one, lifting it by its gills. The fish thrashed its tail ceaselessly, splattering water all over Lei Sanxiang's arms and face.

The fish had a silvery-white back and golden-yellow belly, shaped like a water droplet, with extremely plump flesh—it was a wild large yellow croaker from the seas off Fujian and Guangdong.

"Good, this one's big enough and lively enough—fry it first!" Lei Sanxiang said, throwing the fish onto the cutting board and knocking it unconscious with a single blow of his club.

"Old Chen, I don't know how to clean fish—I'll leave the rest to you."

Uncle Chen said: "Right away."

The moment the words fell, Uncle Chen took out a sharp knife, wiped it with seawater, and scraped it across the fish's body. In an instant, scales flew everywhere—two or three strokes finished one side, then he flipped it over and cleaned the scales on the other side.

After clearing the scales, Uncle Chen lifted the fish with one hand, scraped the scales off the cutting board with his knife, and rinsed the knife in seawater.

Then he placed the fish back on the board, removed the gills, slit open the back with one stroke, split the fish in two, flicked the blade to drop the innards to the side, and removed the fish maw.

He rinsed the fish meat clean in seawater, put it back on the board, scored both sides with a crisscross pattern, and placed it in a basin to marinate with seasonings.

Uncle Chen's fish-cleaning movements flowed like clouds and water, highly entertaining to watch—Lei Sanxiang couldn't stop praising him.

Uncle Chen made a few modest remarks, but his expression was full of pride.

Half an incense stick later, the yellow croaker was done marinating. Uncle Chen ladled out most of the oil from the iron wok into a basin beside it, leaving only a thin coating of oil on the wok's surface.

Lei Sanxiang said urgently: "Old Chen, don't be stingy with the oil! The helmsman said today we can use as much oil and fish as we want!"

Uncle Chen smiled mysteriously: "What the boatswain said about frying small yellow croakers—that's simple to make. This one is a large yellow croaker—not suitable for deep frying. What I'm making is pan-seared."

Lei Sanxiang stared at Uncle Chen suspiciously.

Once the oil temperature was right, Uncle Chen grabbed the yellow croaker by the tail and slid it into the wok.

"Sizzle!"

A burst of white smoke rose up.

Uncle Chen wet a towel, padded his hand with it, and gripped the iron wok handle. With a slight exertion of force, the yellow croaker spun around in the wok. Another flick of the wrist, and the whole fish flipped over in the pan.

Another sizzling sound, waves of wok aroma—the fish's freshness and the oil's fragrance mingled together, truly making one drool with hunger.

Lei Sanxiang stared fixedly at the wok, his nose twitching without stop, wishing he could shove his whole big face into it.

"That's the smell! Exactly! That night, that was the smell! Old Chen, you bastard, so your skills were this good all along!"

Uncle Chen was grinning so wide from the praise he could barely close his mouth: "On the boat on ordinary days, sometimes we're fighting, sometimes we're short on oil and grain, and we can't use a roaring fire, so naturally my old Chen's skills couldn't show!

Today the helmsman is hosting this yellow croaker feast, and I'm determined to let you lot of seafarers see what's what!"

Lei Sanxiang nodded again and again: "We've seen it now! Truly, you can't judge a man by his looks — Old Chen, this fish you've made is even better than what they serve at the tavern in my hometown!"

The aroma of the fish drew quite a few crewmen over to gawk, all of them greedily drinking in the fragrance.

They sucked the cooking fumes straight into their lungs, not letting a wisp escape.

Someone said: "Uncle Chen, just do it like that — fry up all these fish!"

"Sizzle!"

Uncle Chen flipped the pan again and laughed: "That won't do — different ingredients call for different methods. Take this yellow croaker, for instance: there's the big yellow croaker and the small yellow croaker. Only the big ones can be dry-fried like this; the small ones are better suited to deep-frying.

Besides, today the helmsman is throwing a banquet, and since it's called a yellow croaker feast, it can't be only frying and pan-searing — braised and steamed dishes are a must too, and this fish maw can be stewed into soup. I guarantee you all won't eat the same thing twice!"

"Sizzle!"

The moment Uncle Chen finished speaking, he flipped the pan again.

The crewmen all around cheered in approval.

Someone said: "Uncle Chen, back when I ate your worm cakes out on the Guangdong seas, I thought all you could do was light a fire — never figured you had skills like this."

Uncle Chen grew a little wistful and said: "Bullshit! Before I came aboard, I was a head cook at a tavern, big or small as it was! If it weren't for the levy payments... ah, never mind — today's a happy day, let's not bring that up!"

"Sizzle!"

Everyone sniffed wildly.

Uncle Chen laughed and scolded: "If you're all that impatient, go on over to the side and help gut the fish!"

By now the fishing boat was still sending fish down without pause, the fresh small yellow croakers leaping and flopping without end.

"On it!" everyone answered, and hurried off to gut fish.

Lin Qian stood on the pier's gangway, watching crate after crate of yellow croaker being carried down, slightly taken aback.

In this era, when you cast a net and hauled it in, whatever you caught was entirely up to heaven's will — to land an entire boatload of yellow croaker was a rare stroke indeed, no longer a simple matter of good luck.

"Dabing!" Lin Qian called the boatman over.

"Helmsman, you were looking for me?" Dabing wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel and ran over.

Lin Qian asked with concern: "The fishing boat treating you well?"

Dabing raised his thumb: "A boat gifted by the helmsman — naturally it's top-notch. On this boat, cast the net anywhere at sea and you'll get a catch..."

It was plain to see that Dabing truly loved fishing; once Lin Qian got him started on the topic, he could go on and on without end.

Lin Qian looked toward the fishing boat's hold and saw it was still piled full of yellow croaker. A laborer stood inside the hold, packing fish into crates — finishing one crate, then packing the next.

Among them were no shortage of big yellow croakers two or three chi long and weighing ten-odd jin.

One had to know that big yellow croakers of this weight and quality would be extremely rare in later generations — a single one could sell for a hundred thousand.

In this era, they filled an entire hold as if they cost nothing, and even if a few happened to fall into the sea, no one paid them any mind.

Lin Qian couldn't help but sigh — the Ming's produce was truly abundant.

"You used the fish-drive method to catch them, didn't you?"

Dabing was briefly stunned, then said in delighted surprise: "Helmsman, you know the fish-drive method?"

(End of chapter)

Yahei

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