Chapter 112: The Yellow Croaker Banquet

A "gu" is a net.

The so-called "knock-net method," plainly put, is striking the bamboo poles on the fishing net.

This method can produce a tremendous noise underwater. Yellow croaker are extremely sensitive to sound, and when stunned by the sound waves, they float to the surface and are caught in one sweep.

In later generations, wild large yellow croaker were driven to near extinction this way. It can be said that the knock-net method is even more ruthless than electric fishing and causes tremendous damage to the ecology.

But in these times, productive capacity was extremely limited. Under the influence of the sea ban, fishing boats could hardly venture into the open sea at all, so fishery resources were preserved quite well.

The large yellow croaker in the sea probably outnumbered the people on shore by more than tenfold.

In the Great Ming, the knock-net method was not draining the pond to catch the fish—it was actually an advanced production technique.

Seeing that Lin Qian said nothing, Dabin said with a somewhat guilty conscience: "Rest assured, Helmsman. This method is only used during the fishing season. This time the yellow croaker were needed urgently, which is why I went and knocked the nets."

Lin Qian thought to himself—he had underestimated the ancients' reverence for nature.

He rose and said to Dabin: "No matter. Move the fish. By next year, Nan'ao town will have a new type of fishing boat built—simple to operate, able to sail into the open sea. When the time comes, you'll be the first to try it!"

"Really?" Dabin was overjoyed. "That would be wonderful! Next time the Helmsman wants to hold a fish banquet, just tell me—I'll catch whatever fish the Helmsman wants!"

Lin Qian smiled and said: "Go on, then."

Dabin acknowledged and went down into the hold to move the fish.

Lin Qian watched the scene of fish being carried and fell into thought.

Fujian and Guangdong are mountainous, with many people and little land. In Chaozhou Prefecture there was even a saying: "three parts farming, seven parts fishing."

For the local common folk, the ocean was actually a more important resource than arable land.

In the late Ming, wealthy merchants of the Jiangnan region, after earning silver, would mostly use it to buy land, transforming themselves into landlords who passed down farming and scholarship through the generations.

But the wealthy merchants of Chaozhou mostly bought ships and developed maritime trade businesses—this was precisely a manifestation of that unique Fujian-Guangdong culture.

Had the Manchus not crossed the pass, it is hard to say that capitalism would not have developed further, and then contended with the nations of Western Europe in the South Seas.

Lin Qian strolled casually along the sandy beach, watching the many boatmen gutting fish and frying fish before the oil vats, feeling quite pleased at heart.

Ever since Zheng Zhilong used fried yellow croaker to break Haimen Guard last time, the boatmen had all been craving the taste of fried yellow croaker.

Now that the Lin household had earned a full haul from this venture and had already gained a firm foothold in Nan'ao, they simply decided to hold a grand feast to let the boatmen relax.

Lin Qian had also set aside his work for the evening, preparing to celebrate together with the crew.

"Helmsman Lin."

Just as he was pacing, someone called to him from behind.

Lin Qian turned around and saw Huang Hetai approaching along the beach with two men, one of whom behind him was carrying a brocade box half a person tall.

Huang Hetai walked up close, cupped his hands, and said: "Helmsman, Huang has come to attend the banquet."

Lin Qian returned the greeting with cupped hands. Today was a celebration feast, and his manner was easygoing as he exchanged a few pleasantries with Huang Hetai in a genial tone.

"This is the merit report for the execution of Li Zhong. Please review it, Helmsman."

As he spoke, Huang Hetai drew two letters from his sleeve.

Lin Qian had said he was setting aside his work, but with his temperament, when work came before his eyes, how could he not do it?

Lin Qian took the merit report and saw that the content was the same as last time—written with perfect reasonableness and detail, with ample evidence, leaving no flaw to be found.

Officers like Huang Hetai, camp soldiers of this sort, ordinarily spent their days pondering how to spin defeats into victories. Now, spinning a victory into a victory was practically overkill.

Lin Qian read through both the report and the private letter Huang Hetai had prepared for the Vice Regional Commander, found no problems, and returned both letters to him.

"Report it just like this."

Huang Hetai took back the letters and waved to someone behind him; the attendant presented the brocade box.

"This is a small token from Huang. Please accept it, Helmsman."

Lin Qian did not take it.

Huang Hetai caught on, realizing that Lin Qian was on guard against him, and so said "forgive my rudeness" and opened the box himself. Inside lay a long blade.

The scabbard and the hilt were both extremely plain, without inlaid ornamentation. The blade was about four chi long, and even unsheathed, it carried a sense of archaic ruggedness and vigorous strength.

Lin Qian had seen more than enough of the crudely made standard-issue military sabers of the Great Ming, and with a single glance he recognized that this blade was extraordinary.

Huang Hetai took out the blade and drew it from the scabbard. With a clang, the blade sang softly, its cold gleam striking.

Huang Hetai held the hilt in one hand and supported the blade with the other, the edge turned inward, offering the blade to Lin Qian.

"In the forty-fourth year of Jiajing, Grand Commander Qi and Grand Commander Yu landed on Nan'ao Island, cornered and killed the wokou Wu Ping, and after their great victory departed the island, they left this blade behind. Its name is 'Slayer of Wo.'"

"Since then, the Slayer of Wo blade has hung gathering dust within the Regional Commander's residence. Now that the Helmsman has set foot on this island, it is time for this blade to see the world. I present it to you specially!"

Lin Qian thought to himself: "Slayer of Wo? What an overbearing name."

As a sea bandit, he was hardly lacking in gold, silver, and treasure. If someone sent him some ordinary reeking-of-coin trinket, he would not even deign to glance at it.

But this gift from Huang Hetai was different—it combined practical use and cultural value, and moreover, it carried two layers of meaning.

The first layer was comparing Lin Qian to Grand Commander Qi, a flattery that Lin Qian dared not accept.

The second layer was taking something belonging to the Vice Regional Commander from within the Regional Commander's residence and giving it away—a gesture of allegiance and submission to Lin Qian.

Indeed, Great Ming officials were all shrewd operators. He had merely sent a single blade—said nothing else at all, yet said everything.

Truly, the gift was given just right.

Lin Qian took the blade in his hand and felt that the grip was comfortable and the blade's weight distribution was perfect.

Looking at it against the setting sun, the spine of the blade was straight, and the edge reflected a dense, cold gleam.

The blade curved like a rice seedling. Because it was made by Qi Jiguang, the common folk called it the Qi Family Saber or the Miao Saber.

Lin Qian lightly ran his finger along the blade and felt a faint chill pass from his fingertip, penetrating deep into his bones.

The blade was covered in intricate patterns similar to Damascus steel, indicating that it was forged from wrought iron, with the edge treated by the clay-tempering method.

In this era, this was top-tier craftsmanship.

Compared to the crudely made ordinary military sabers, this "Slayer of Wo" might truly be able to cut through iron like mud—who could say?

Lin Qian looked at the blade again and saw no inscription carved upon it, but that did not matter. This precious blade itself was already extremely rare—in the Great Ming, one could not buy it even with silver.

Lin Qian toyed with the blade for a moment, then sheathed it and called out, "Bailangzai!"

In a moment, Bailangzai came running over from beside the frying pan: "Helmsman!"

Lin Qian tossed him the sword: "It's yours."

Bailangzai caught it, drew the blade to inspect it, and could not help praising, "Fine blade!"

Lin Qian had no martial skill and could not use a blade at all—Bailangzai was his blade.

Lin Qian smiled at Huang Hetai: "Please, board the ship."

The sun sank toward the west, and the earth was bathed in dusky yellow.

On the deck of the Santa Ana, tables and chairs were set out, and torches were lit.

Lin Qian's sworn brothers and the crewmen who had taken part in the raid on the Lin estate took their seats on the deck.

Before the tables, bowls, chopsticks, cups, and goblets had already been laid out, and people began carrying up dishes of every kind.

Besides the ordinary fruit platters and cold dishes, there was one centerpiece: deep-fried yellow croaker, several fish to a plate, one portion per person.

Huang Hetai was at first somewhat dismissive—yellow croaker was hardly a precious ingredient, and one portion per person seemed rather stingy.

But when a plate of yellow croaker passed by him, Huang Hetai's eyes went wide on the spot.

On that tray were actually two half-ingots of gold.

Gleaming yellow gold set beside deep-fried yellow croaker—the impact was simply beyond words.

So the "yellow fish feast" actually meant these little yellow goldfish!

Huang Hetai looked around and saw that every tray of yellow croaker, one per person, all held gold ingots.

Under the torchlight, the gold gave off a dazzling, mesmerizing glow—one glance and a man was lost in it.

Huang Hetai looked at Lin Qian and saw that in the plates of the sea bandit chieftains, the gold ingots were even more numerous, crisscrossed and stacked one atop another, piled into a tower shape.

Huang Hetai's eyes nearly bulged out. He thought to himself that this was likely the most extravagant fish feast he would ever see in his life.

The income from raiding the Lin estate and wiping out Li Zhong, when all the various items were added together, meant that each crewman who took part would receive a dividend of roughly one hundred thirty-some taels.

Each gold ingot weighed five taels, so the crewmen each got about two and a half ingots.

Seeing the gold, the crewmen's smiles grew wide.

The dishes were mostly served now, and all the crewmen looked toward Lin Qian.

Lin Qian raised his cup and stood: "No need for speeches. Take the money, eat the meat, drink the wine! Brothers, cheers!"

"Cheers!" All the sea bandits raised their cups together.

The deck immediately erupted in boisterous clamor.

Lin Qian took a light sip of wine and sat back down.

He reached out and tore off a piece of yellow croaker flesh. The fish was crisp and brittle on the outside, extremely tender within, the meat separating in garlic-clove segments, steam rising from it.

As the fish meat entered his mouth, a burst of freshness and fragrance spread across his palate—the crisp skin and the delicate flesh complemented each other perfectly.

The yellow croaker was fresh, all wild-caught; in the mouth, the flesh was tender yet held together, truly full of flavor, with a lingering aftertaste.

In no time at all, Lin Qian had finished one fish.

His tray held no gold ingots. As helmsman, his dividend was a full two hundred-plus gold bars; placed on a tray, they would weigh over sixty catties—the tray could not possibly bear it.

So, as usual, Lin Qian deposited his dividend in the accounts.

The Great Ming ran on a silver standard, and gold was inconvenient for transactions among the common folk. Lin Qian's reason for distributing dividends in gold was not only for visual impact.

There was also the thought of letting the crewmen spend slowly, so they would not blow their entire dividend at once.

Nan'ao Island's economy was still far too small—if over ten thousand taels of dividend silver suddenly flooded the market, it would inevitably cause severe inflation.

Although Lin Qian had decided to set aside all work tonight and hold the celebration feast,

even as he ate fish, his mind could not help turning to plans for the future.

Now that he had initially gained a foothold on Nan'ao Island, the next step was to extend his reach onto the shore.

He needed to open trade links between the island and the coast, borrowing the resources of Fujian and Guangdong to develop Nan'ao.

Relying on the furtive trade of small merchants between the two places was far from enough.

On shore, Lin Qian had to have his own agents—a white-glove family.

All commercial dealings and collusion with local officials had to go through this white glove, so as not to arouse suspicion or draw the attention of the court.

Only, this white glove was not easy to find.

Sending his own people to parachute onto the shore to open trading houses and establish a clan and mansion was clearly unrealistic.

Cooperating with existing clans, on the other hand, made loyalty hard to guarantee.

The best choice was the clan Zheng Zhilong belonged to—his family was in the Quanzhou area of Fujian, and could be considered half a local power.

But Zheng Zhilong had already gained a certain prestige and standing within the group; bringing his clan in as well would easily lead to a tail too big to wag, losing checks and balances, and causing internal strife.

Therefore, Lin Qian would rather have no white glove at all than ever choose Zheng Zhilong's clan.

"Helmsman."

Just as he was mulling things over, Lin Qian heard Zheng Zhilong calling him.

"What is it?" Lin Qian looked up with a smile.

The feast had only just begun, but Zheng Zhilong was already flushed red from drink. With an air of mystery, he said, "Lately there's a rumor along the Fujian and Guangdong coasts—they say a five-clawed jiao dragon has appeared. Has the helmsman heard of it?"

Lin Qian smiled and shook his head.

Lei Sanxiang wiped his greasy mouth: "Is that so? Tell us more, quickly."

Scholar Zhou picked a spine out of a yellow croaker: "Everyone says a jiao has four claws—wouldn't five claws make it a dragon?"

Chen Jiao crunched through a section of fried fish bone and said through his mouthful, "Coastal folk are very particular about titles. Maybe they mean dragon, but fear offending the Dragon King, so they call it a five-clawed jiao instead."

Bai Qing chewed fish meat and mumbled, "Stories of jiao dragons are common among the pearl divers. Some who dove deep have even seen one at the bottom of the sea."

Lei Sanxiang urged, "Brother Zheng hasn't told his story yet, and you're all already chattering away. Let Brother Zheng get on with it quickly."

Zheng Zhilong laughed: "It's not really a story, just a folk rumor. I'll tell it, consider it something to go with our drinks."

"Apparently, about half a month ago, people from the coastal villages of Zhangzhou Prefecture who went out to sea fishing would always see floating timber on the water, and the beaches would always have wood washed ashore."

"Then someone said this was a flood dragon emerging from the sea, and the more it spread, the more fantastical it became."

"Coincidentally, this autumn, torrential rains never stopped at the border of Fujian and Guangdong, and gradually a tale of a five-clawed flood dragon emerged among the folk."

Lei Sanxiang asked in surprise: "For no good reason, where would so much timber come from in the sea?"

Lin Qian wiped his fingers: "Must be the wreckage of the ship city."

The attack on Li Kuiqi's ship city had been over a month ago; counting the days, the fragments of the ship city would about now have been carried to shore by the waves.

Chen Jiao suddenly understood: "So that five-clawed flood dragon—isn't that talking about us?"

Lei Sanxiang raised his wine bowl: "That name's got some might to it—bottoms up!"

Lin Qian raised his cup and took another sip.

Lei Sanxiang gulped down an entire bowl of wine, wiped his mouth with gusto, then pulled out the wine jar and filled his bowl again.

Zheng Zhilong casually tossed a fish bone into the sea and asked: "Brother Lei San spent time in the Divine Engine Battalion—surely you have some stories to tell?"

Lei Sanxiang waved a hand: "All we fought were losing battles. What's there to tell?"

Zheng Zhilong pressed on: "I hear a hundred Jurchen Tartars could scatter ten thousand Ming troops?"

Lei Sanxiang roared in anger: "Bullshit! Last year at Hunhen Emo in Liaodong, if Regional Commander Du hadn't insisted on recklessly crossing the river and getting surrounded by the Tartars at Jilin Cliff, we wouldn't have been slaughtered to the last man! That bastard Emperor and his bastard Regional Commander! Damn it all! They cost me my father and my elder brother..."

Having said this, Lei Sanxiang picked up a bowl of glutinous rice yellow wine and drained it in one tilt of his head.

For a moment, the table fell quiet.

Only then did everyone realize that the reason Lei Sanxiang had never wanted to speak of the Battle of Sarhu was because his father and brother had both died in that defeat.

Chen Jiao patted Lei Sanxiang on the shoulder and drank a bowl with him in solidarity.

Zheng Zhilong blamed himself for misspeaking and punished himself with a bowl as well.

Seeing the mood turn sour, Lei Sanxiang changed the subject: "But if not for the Battle of Jilin Cliff, I'd never have made it out to sea. My father and brother's good fortune—I'll just enjoy it on their behalf!"

"Fish maw soup, coming through!"

As he spoke, Uncle Chen's voice came from the gangway.

With both hands wrapped in a wet towel, he carried a bowl of steaming thick soup and set it on Lin Qian's table.

"People of Lingnan have a saying—eat fish maw in winter, mushrooms in summer. This stuff is the most nourishing and cuts through the grease. Everyone, have a taste while it's hot."

Zheng Zhilong rose and attentively ladled soup for everyone.

This was work that should have been done by serving girls.

But Lin Qian's group had sensitive identities—even with silver to spare, they didn't dare go ashore to hire beauties to accompany their drinking.

So things like pouring wine and ladling soup had to be done by themselves.

This was also the reason why sea bandits of every generation in the Great Ming ultimately accepted amnesty.

Even with a sea of silver, without an identity that could stand in the light, without sufficient means of production, if you couldn't spend it, it was all for nothing.

Zheng Zhilong placed the soup before Lin Qian.

Lin Qian took a spoonful and tasted it—rich and smooth, sweet and fresh; the fish maw was soft and tender with no trace of fishiness. One sip, and warmth flowed from his mouth down into his belly, leaving his whole body comfortable.

Huang Hetai took a taste and praised: "This soup is made with the hand of a true master chef. The helmsman truly has no shortage of talented men under him."

Lin Qian smiled but didn't respond.

The yellow croaker feast lasted until the middle of the night, and everyone ate until their bellies were round as drums, unable to take another bite.

Only a few lovers of drink remained, pairing off in twos and threes to compete over wine.

At the main table, Lei Sanxiang downed another bowl of yellow wine, and the brothers erupted in thunderous cheers.

Lei Sanxiang wiped his mouth, his frame swaying slightly.

Zheng Zhilong flashed a confident smile and matched him with another bowl, drawing another round of applause.

By now, the jars of over a catty beside the two men had both run dry.

Zheng Zhilong's expression remained unchanged, while Lei Sanxiang could barely stay on his feet—the victor was already quite clear.

But Lei Sanxiang was too proud for his own good, propping himself up on the persona of a hardy Shandong man, and still called for someone to open another jar.

Lin Qian feared that if they kept drinking, his two great generals—not yet captured by the court—would instead drink themselves to death at the banquet table, so he hurriedly stood up to mediate and call a halt.

Zheng Zhilong was quick on the uptake. Seeing that Lei Sanxiang was still calling for more wine to be opened, he clasped his hands and said: "Brother Lei San truly has an immense capacity for drink. I can't drink another drop."

Lei Sanxiang slurred: "Can't drink another drop? Fill it up!"

Chen Jiao kicked him under the table: "Third Brother!"

Lei Sanxiang: "Big Brother, don't stop me. This lad can hold his liquor, but today I—"

Halfway through his words, Lei Sanxiang toppled backward onto the table, and everyone burst into laughter.

Lin Qian had someone carry Lei Sanxiang back to his cabin.

Seeing that it was getting late, the others took their leave one by one and returned to their cabins to rest.

Lin Qian bade farewell to his brothers, returned to the captain's quarters, washed up briefly, and collapsed onto the bed.

Though his mind was already drowsy, his brain still mechanically churned over matters.

Lin Qian thought: before he had taken up residence on Nan'ao Island, Li Kuiqi had unquestionably been the number one sea bandit on the Fujian-Guangdong seas.

Yet even a man like that, when he wanted a woman, could only bring her aboard and slip her a sleeping drug.

And he could only live in a ship city built from several hundred broken vessels, not even daring to seize and occupy some island.

Li Zhong might have a camp at Guantang Mountain, but it was crude and looked ready to flee at any moment.

The reason these two skulked about so furtively was that they had no support from forces ashore.

Lin Qian now faced the same predicament.

With silver in hand now, Nan'ao Island's most urgent priorities were building a dry dock, granaries, and reservoirs.

No need to say much about the dry dock.

The granaries and reservoirs were being prepared for the day the imperial court's great army would come to besiege the island.

If war with the court broke out one day, the official forces would surely adopt a strategy of encirclement, cutting off trade between the island and the shore.

Building granaries and reservoirs in advance and stockpiling ample water and grain was the confidence needed to withstand the court's siege.

However, the dry dock, granaries, and reservoirs all required large quantities of blue bricks, lime mortar, tung oil, hemp fiber, and quicklime, and the subsequent grain storage would need large-scale purchasing of foodstuffs—all of this had to be bought in bulk from the shore.

On the surface, it would be best to have a wealthy household on shore preparing to undertake major construction of a mansion, so that purchases could be made legitimately.

If that household were reliable, one could also use this legal identity to make contact with the Chenghai County Magistrate, and even the Chaozhou Prefect.

That way, Nan'ao Island's future development could proceed with free rein.

Lin Qian's thoughts gradually slowed, and he sank into a deep sleep on the walnut double four-poster bed.

The next morning, Lin Qian rose full of energy.

After washing up, he summoned Scholar Zhou to discuss the matter.

After all, Scholar Zhou had studied the classics and was preparing for the examinations—he should be familiar with the collusion of interests between the Ming court's officialdom and the great households.

Of course, Huang Hetai was certainly more familiar with such matters than Scholar Zhou, but Lin Qian did not trust him.

Inside the captain's cabin, after hearing Lin Qian's request, Scholar Zhou fell into deep thought.

Lin Qian took out a cigar and lit it, offering one to Scholar Zhou, who waved his hand in refusal.

"Helmsman, have you ever considered a marriage alliance?" Scholar Zhou asked tentatively.

Lin Qian nodded. He had indeed considered a marriage alliance, but marriage opportunities were precious, and Lin Qian was unwilling to waste one on befriending a local power broker.

His marriage should be used for something more valuable—like marrying the daughter of some Chief Grand Secretary or faction leader in the Grand Secretariat, to extract the maximum political capital.

Using up his precious quota of a principal wife now would be far too wasteful.

Moreover, at the current pace of development, war with the court was only a matter of time. Once war broke out, the powers on shore would inevitably realign themselves.

Fantasizing about gaining a long-term ally through marriage was extremely childish.

Wait.

Lin Qian's eyes lit up. What he had been considering before was how to gain a long-term ally.

But in truth, finding a short-term ally, using the brief alliance period to furiously develop his own strength, and kicking them aside once they were used up—that was the wise move.

With his thinking opened up, a short-term ally didn't require deep entanglement of interests. No marriage alliances, no schemes—none of that was needed.

Since he was a sea bandit, he should use sea bandit methods.

In an instant, Lin Qian had already formed the rough outline of a plan in his mind.

"Do you remember the merchant who sold us the Fujian junk?"

Scholar Zhou concentrated and recalled for a moment: "Master Hu?"

Lin Qian took a deep drag on his cigar and exhaled a wreath of smoke: "That's him. His family weaves Chaozhou silk. The reason he built the three-masted Fujian junk before was to go through Yuegang and sell his Chaozhou silk overseas."

A look of understanding appeared on Scholar Zhou's face: "The helmsman intends to use this man?"

"No—he has Chaozhou silk, we have ships. This is cooperation!" Lin Qian laughed. "You and Bailangzai make preparations, bring plenty of sincerity, and go talk cooperation with him in a few days."

Scholar Zhou: "Me and Seventh Brother? For dealings with the shore, aren't you sending Brother Zheng?"

Lin Qian picked up the Inca gold button from the navigation table, playing with it between the fingers of his hand, and said meaningfully: "This matter doesn't need him. Also, for the cargo delivery at Macao, Second Brother need not go anymore—I plan to entrust it all to José."

Scholar Zhou: "Then when we help run the shipping, how much silver should we charge?"

"Second Brother, just use your judgment. As long as we can drag that Hu fellow into the water, whether the shipping runs at a profit or a loss doesn't matter."

Scholar Zhou clasped his hands and said: "If that's the case, I understand. This afternoon I'll go ashore with Seventh Brother to first register household records and travel permits. We must play the part fully, lest he not take the bait."

Lin Qian smiled: "Second Brother thinks of everything."

After Scholar Zhou withdrew, Lin Qian had someone summon Lü Zhou.

A moment later, Lü Zhou entered and clasped his fists before the navigation table: "Helmsman."

Lin Qian's voice came through the cigar smoke: "You've sailed the route from Nan'ao to Macao before—do you still remember the course?"

Lü Zhou answered loudly: "This route runs close along the coast, and I remember every marker along it!"

"Good. From now on, you are the navigator for this route."

Lü Zhou's face flushed red with excitement as he clasped his fists: "Thank you, Helmsman!"

Lin Qian smiled warmly: "But being a navigator isn't so easy. You have one more task on the ship."

"Please give your orders, Helmsman!"

Lin Qian was silent for a moment, his smile gradually turning cold: "Keep an eye on José for me. If he makes the slightest suspicious move, kill him."

"Go now, and also call José in for me."

A moment later, José entered, smiling ingratiatingly: "Helmsman, you called for me?"

"Come, sit." Lin Qian smiled cordially.

(End of chapter)

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen