Chapter 114: Snow Drifting Through the Corridor Offices

Taichang first year, tenth month.

Heavy snow fell over the capital.

In the corridor offices of the Ministry of War.

Several Bureau Secretaries were moving among the documents, sorting through memorials submitted from various regions.

In the main hall, red charcoal braziers had already been lit, warming the room pleasantly.

Since the eighth month, apart from Liaodong, memorials from every region had dwindled considerably, leaving the Bureau Secretaries with much lighter work.

And the senior officials of the various ministries had recently been busy investigating the Red Pill Case and the Palace Relocation Case, with disputes before the throne unending — they had no time for departmental trifles, which gave the Bureau Secretaries a rare sense of ease. They flipped through the memorials while discussing which tavern to visit for a few drinks that evening.

"A new Huaiyang-cuisine tavern just opened west of the city. After we finish our duties tonight, how about we gather there?"

"Fine by me. It's rare that Liaodong is quiet and the southeast has no sea bandit trouble — we actually have free time tonight."

"The national mourning has only just ended. Isn't that a bit ostentatious?"

"Don't worry, the tavern has a courtyard for sedan chairs — no one will see us. Besides, with the way the ministry heads and Censors have been squabbling in court these past days, who has any mind left to watch us?"

Someone cut in: "I heard that a few days ago, Censor Feng submitted another memorial, bitterly denouncing the Chief Grand Secretary for shielding the wicked and harming the state, his crime equal to regicide. The matter is causing quite an uproar."

"The Chief Grand Secretary has always been prudent in serving the state — how could he do such a thing?"

"Prudent in serving the state, you say? I heard that a few days ago before the throne, the Chief Grand Secretary and the remonstrance officials traded accusations, and now the ministry heads have turned their spears against him."

"Could he be deliberately drawing the courtiers' attention away from Consort Li?"

A senior Bureau Secretary warned: "That's going too far. Gentlemen, mind your words!"

The corridor office fell silent for a moment.

Only the crackling of the red charcoal could be heard.

After a long while, one man opened an official document, glanced at it, and exclaimed in admiration: "Another merit report from Liaodong! Ever since Military Commissioner Yuan took office, merit reports from Liaodong have been unending. It seems the Tartars' luck has run out — the pacification of Liaodong is within reach."

Someone said: "If it's like before, a merit report of a dozen or so heads, then there's not much to it."

The Bureau Secretary holding the document said: "No. This is a great achievement — eighty-seven heads taken in battle!"

Hearing this, the other Bureau Secretaries all wore joyful expressions.

"What? Read it, read it quickly!" Someone was already urging impatiently.

Though Ming officials were deeply corrupt, as Bureau Secretaries of the Ministry of War, they still delighted in hearing reports of victory.

The Bureau Secretary holding the document cleared his throat and read aloud in a clear voice: "By imperial commission, Military Commissioner of Liaodong and other military affairs, Vice Minister of the Ministry of War and Right Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, your servant Yuan Yingtai respectfully memorializes:

On the twenty-first of the ninth month, surrendered barbarian scouts reported that over two hundred Jianzhou barbarian cavalry raiders violated our Sancha'er and other areas...

Your servant selected three hundred of the strongest among the newly surrendered barbarian soldiers as the vanguard, and dispatched them at speed to strike. The newly surrendered barbarian soldiers, grateful for our kindness and seeking to repay it, fought with particular valor, charging to the fore...

In battle, eighty-seven true Jianzhou barbarian heads were taken...

All these minor achievements in suppressing the foe, being properly reported, are hereby sent by swift courier for your information."

"Excellent!" Someone clapped and laughed, "With Military Commissioner Yuan in Liaodong, it is truly a blessing for the state!"

A Bureau Secretary asked: "The newly surrendered barbarian soldiers mentioned in the memorial — who are they?"

The Bureau Secretary holding the document explained: "They're just some surrendered Mongol troops. Since autumn began this year, the Mongol tribes have suffered great famine, and many have come through the passes begging for food, taken in and employed by Military Commissioner Yuan.

At the time, some argued that accepting too many surrenders might secretly serve the enemy. But now it seems that was pure overthinking. Military Commissioner Yuan truly has an eye for judging men!"

The Bureau Secretaries chatted and laughed, praising Yuan Yingtai.

Finally, someone said: "This achievement is considerable — it should be sent to the department heads for review and processing."

The Bureau Secretary holding the document said: "Indeed." He then placed the document in the red-bottomed basket on the table, to be delivered together tomorrow to the Vice Bureau Director of the Military Selection Bureau.

The corridor office fell quiet again.

Outside, the wind and snow had grown fiercer. The gale howled as it swept past the corridor offices, and huge snowflakes pounded against the window lattices with a soft thudding sound.

Even the red charcoal could not hold back the chill from outside. A Bureau Secretary sitting near the door and windows rose and rubbed his hands together.

An elderly Bureau Secretary said to the clerk outside the corridor office: "Bring another brazier of fresh charcoal."

The hand-rubbing Bureau Secretary said: "The old charcoal hasn't burned out yet — isn't replacing it with fresh charcoal a bit wasteful?"

The elderly Bureau Secretary said: "When the body is warm, the mind is clear, and one can serve the court better. A bit of charcoal is nothing — it can't be called waste."

Before long, the clerk brought fresh charcoal. The new coals burned bright red, and not long after they were brought in, the room became warm and cozy once more.

The hand-rubbing Bureau Secretary sat back down and continued flipping through documents.

Someone sighed: "Winter has only just begun, and the weather is already this cold. Who knows how many poor common folk will freeze to death before spring arrives."

The elderly Bureau Secretary said: "In recent years, most winters have been this bitterly cold. There's no saying whether it's good or bad."

"Oh? A bitterly cold winter — could it be a good thing?"

The elderly Bureau Secretary looked up and said: "Naturally. Winter has barely begun, and the capital is already seeing snow this heavy — Liaodong will only have worse. If it can freeze a few more Jianzhou barbarians to death, then naturally it is a good thing."

Someone added: "If you ask me, without this bitter cold, there would be no Mongol surrenderees, and even if Military Commissioner Yuan still cut down over eighty heads in this battle, he would have lost no small number of Ming soldiers and officers.

As for common folk freezing to death or getting frostbitten — that's the Ministry of Revenue's concern. As Bureau Secretaries of the Ministry of War, our first concern should naturally be military affairs."

"Well said." The other Bureau Secretaries all nodded in agreement.

"Oh? What's this now — another merit report."

These words drew the attention of every Bureau Secretary in the room: "Still from Liaodong?"

"No, this one's from the south."

"The south?" The Bureau Secretaries were momentarily stunned.

There was no fighting in the south either.

"It's about suppressing sea bandits — forwarded by the Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi."

That Bureau Secretary worked backward through the layers of endorsements, and saw that the memorial bore the comments of the Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi and the Governor of Fujian — the memorial had actually been written by the Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao.

The elderly Bureau Secretary stroked his beard and mused: "The Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao? I recall that a month ago, he already submitted a merit report, saying he had wiped out a big sea bandit surnamed Li."

"Exactly — his previous memorial was just delivered to the Grand Secretariat and hasn't even been sent back to the localities yet. Has he really achieved new merit this quickly?"

The Bureau Secretary holding the report clearly had some doubts as well—after all, what the southeastern naval forces were really like, they as Bureau Secretaries of the Ministry of War knew more or less.

This time, the Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao had wiped out a band of sea bandits led by a man named Li Zhong.

This band of sea bandits had just plundered a wealthy household in Huangyan, and were fleeing south with a ship full of treasure, passing by Nan'ao Island where the Vice Regional Commander sent troops to intercept and kill them.

Fifty-eight heads were taken, along with three bird boats of the sea bandits and one chest of valuables from the wealthy household's estate; the rest had sunk to the bottom of the sea during the naval battle.

The heads and valuables stated in the report had all been verified by the Governor-General of Liangguang.

It could be said to be ironclad.

The Secretaries examined the report several times over—there was no problem whatsoever.

The elderly Secretary sighed with emotion: "In the north we have Military Commissioner Yuan, in the south we have Regional Commander Ma. Who would have thought our Great Ming has produced another figure like Grand Commander Yu."

The Bureau Secretary holding the report looked around and said: "If none of you colleagues have any objection, I will sign my approval for the meritorious service."

The Secretaries around him nodded one after another.

Just then, a voice interrupted them.

"Hold on."

The Secretaries looked over and saw it was the Secretary by the wall, who also held a report in his hand, with a wry smile on his face: "How strange, how strange—another merit-claiming report."

"Where's the battle merit this time? Liaodong or the southeast?"

"The southeast. The Guard Commander of Haimen Guard Station wiped out a band of sea bandits on the waters east of Zhejiang."

Haimen Guard Station?

The Secretaries were astonished. The Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao at least commanded relatively poor camp soldiers.

The Guard Commander of Haimen Guard Station commanded the most rotten guard station soldiers in all of the Great Ming.

Since when could guard station soldiers wipe out sea bandits?

The Secretary by the window said with a wry smile: "Perhaps that Guard Commander mobilized his household troops—but that's not the strangest part. The strangest part is that the band of pirates surnamed Sun he wiped out also claims to be the culprits who robbed the wealthy household in Huangyan."

"The same wealthy household?"

"The same wealthy household."

The Secretaries looked at each other in bewilderment, piecing the two reports together to examine them.

Indeed, the process of the extermination and the number of heads taken were completely different—they were not the same band of sea bandits, so there was no duplicate reporting.

But both reports clearly stated that the sea bandits they had wiped out were the true culprits who had plundered the Lin estate in Huangyan County.

Looking more carefully, the others began to notice something.

On the Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao's report, there were only physical evidence and heads—not a single living captive as human testimony.

The Guard Commander of Haimen Guard Station's report was the exact opposite—all captive testimony, not a single piece of stolen goods from the Lin estate.

If one said the two bands of sea bandits committed the crime together, then in Haimen Guard Station's report, the confessions of the captured sea bandits clearly admitted to having done it themselves, with no involvement from others.

Could it be they were practicing jianghu brotherhood, engaging in an act of shielding?

"May I ask you colleagues, how should this endorsement be written?" The Secretary who had received the report said with a bitter face.

No one spoke.

After a moment, someone said: "In my view, make a copy of each, send the Haimen Guard Station copy back to Nan'ao, and send the Nan'ao Island copy back to Haimen Guard Station—let them discuss it and then submit their reports again."

The elderly Secretary said: "Let's do it that way then. Don't sign the endorsement for now; paste the yellow labels on both reports and submit them to the department chief for a decision."

When snow was falling in the capital.

On the seas of Fujian and Guangdong, Nan'ao Island still showed a scene of deep autumn.

The daily temperature hovered around ten degrees—not yet cold enough to freeze a man to death.

Inside the captain's cabin of the Santa Ana, Lin Qian sat at the oval table, holding a cup of hot tea, listening to Scholar Zhou report on the matter of pulling the wealthy merchant into the water.

"Helmsman, following your instructions, Seventh Brother and I have already made contact with Master Hu. Master Hu intends to book one voyage—first sending a shipment to Macao to see how it goes. If trade goes smoothly, he'll book ships on a long-term basis afterward."

Lin Qian blew on the steam, took a sip of tea, and said: "He didn't grow suspicious of you two, did he?"

"Seventh Brother and I found petty clerks in a neighboring county, bought fake household registrations and travel permits, and bribed a few village elders to vouch for us. He didn't suspect our identities, only—"

Lin Qian picked up the teapot and refilled Scholar Zhou's empty cup: "Speak your mind freely."

Scholar Zhou pressed his index and middle fingers together, placed them beside his teacup, and lightly tapped the table three times with his fingertips, saying: "Master Hu wants a sum of silver as a deposit—if anything goes wrong on the voyage, that money will count as compensation for his losses."

"How much?"

"Ten thousand taels."

"Give it to him." Lin Qian's expression did not change.

What he wanted was to bind Master Hu with shared interests—giving him silver directly would actually make threatening him simpler later on.

Besides, the northwest monsoon was stable right now, and the route from Nan'ao Island to Macao hugged the coast the whole way—very safe.

Even if Master Hu turned his face and refused to honor the agreement, Lin Qian would simply replicate the plundering of the Lin estate once more.

Sea bandits' silver was not so easily taken.

Lin Qian agreeing so readily actually surprised Scholar Zhou somewhat: "Not going to haggle?"

Lin Qian took a sip of tea: "No need. This silver is just changing where it's stored. There are still a few pieces of Naozhou Island porcelain in the storehouse—take them along as well and deliver them to him."

Just then, someone knocked and entered.

"Helmsman, Jose's ship is back."

"Let's go, let's have a look."

After a while, one Haicang ship and two Cangshan ships docked at Houjiang Bay.

Jose leaped from the ship's rail onto the gangplank and jogged all the way to Lin Qian, saying: "Helmsman."

Lin Qian warmly patted his arm: "Was the journey peaceful?"

Jose smiled: "With three big ships traveling together, the whole way was smooth sailing—other ships all gave us a wide berth."

"Good to hear."

José continued, "Helmsman, about the matter you asked me to look into—I've made inquiries. Macao has no clockmakers, but the alderman has agreed to help search for one. As for coffee, the alderman had never heard of it either, though he also promised to ask captains returning to Europe to make inquiries."

Lin Qian hadn't actually expected Fat An to know about coffee anyway. When this substance first reached Europe, the Church had once deemed it the Devil's drink, and its spread had been quite a tortuous affair.

Having someone willing to make inquiries was good enough.

Lin Qian watched the Haicang ship unloading its cargo and said, "Let's get to business. How many firearms did you buy this time?"

José pulled a list from his bosom: "Helmsman, please take a look."

The list was written in Spanish.

José explained at his side, "As per your instructions, Helmsman, I purchased four Siren cannons. As for the rapid-fire guns—what the Great Ming calls Folangji cannons—I bought twenty-four. One hundred muskets, and the rest is gunpowder, cannonballs, musket balls, and the like."

Lin Qian saw that on the list, the Siren cannons alone sold for one thousand taels per gun, and each solid iron cannonball for the Siren cannon went for two taels of silver.

War truly was a monstrous devourer of gold, no mistake about it.

Seeing Lin Qian staring at the list in silence, José explained, "I made inquiries at the Bocarro foundry in Macao. Andre's asking price isn't too high.

Macao produces no ore—just buying copper from Japan costs a fortune, and they still have to purchase coal and iron from the Great Ming. The wages for Macao's arsenal craftsmen and the wear-and-tear on auxiliary materials are no small sum either."

Lin Qian understood in his heart that no matter how high the cost of the cannons, it could never exceed the profit. In the weapons trade, a 50% gross margin already counted as a conscience price.

Without the ability to produce his own, whoever he bought firearms from wouldn't sell cheap. As long as the quality of the weapons was passable, that was enough.

Lin Qian tucked the list away and said, "Let's inspect the goods first before we talk further."

José ordered some men to bring over a crate of muskets first.

A moment later, two boatmen carried a wooden crate over and set it down on the sand.

José had someone pry it open with a crowbar. Inside, packed with wood shavings and curls, lay three matchlock muskets, each over three chi in length.

The barrels were slender and long, forged from wrought iron, wrapped in walnut handguards—the whole pieces gleaming brand new.

Lin Qian casually took one out and examined it carefully. The musket felt cool and smooth in his hand, and as he ran his fingers over it, he could feel the grain of the walnut.

The musket had a satisfying heft. Lin Qian weighed it in his hand—roughly ten to fifteen jin.

That was already far lighter than the Spanish matchlocks currently on the ship.

At the very least, when firing the Portuguese matchlock, both hands could support it without needing a rest at the front of the barrel.

Thanks to its lightness, the Portuguese matchlock was far better suited for aimed shooting in naval combat.

Lin Qian braced the stock against his shoulder, aligned his sight through the front bead and rear notch, and aimed at a seagull in the distance.

Then he squeezed the trigger.

On the lock mechanism, a curved metal hook dropped down, striking square into the flash pan.

If the gun had been loaded with powder and shot, that metal hook—clamped with a burning match—would ignite the priming powder, detonate the propellant charge in the barrel, and send the ball flying.

But right now, the gun wasn't loaded.

The seagull swaggered off into the sky.

Lin Qian set the musket down and returned it to the wooden crate.

The boatmen had already brought over a new crate—this one was especially heavy, requiring six men to share the ropes before they could move it.

That crate was also larger than the one holding the muskets, roughly five to six chi in size.

The boatmen set the wooden crate down on the sand, and it kicked up a spray of beach sand as it landed.

They pried open the crate, and amid the wood shavings, something gleamed with a cold, greenish-yellow luster.

Lin Qian stepped forward and saw a bronze cannon barrel lying in the crate.

The barrel was about five chi long, as thick as a man's calf, tapering gradually toward the muzzle, which was about three cun across.

The barrel was smooth all over, with a pair of trunnions on each side.

What drew the eye most was that at the breech of the cannon, there was an open, concave notch.

This was the Portuguese rapid-fire cannon—the famous Folangji gun.

What lay before him was the mother chamber of the Folangji cannon.

José ordered men to bring the breech chambers.

After a while, a boatman carried over a crate of breech chambers.

The crate was opened, and nestled in the wood shavings lay three breech chambers.

Each breech chamber looked like a section of bamboo, sized to fit perfectly into the concave notch of the mother chamber.

One end of the breech chamber was open, the other closed, with a touch hole for the primer.

In battle, one could load powder and shot into the breech chambers alone, then slot them into the mother chamber to fire.

This way, the mother chamber's barrel never came into direct contact with burning powder, so there was no need to constantly swab out the bore like with muzzle-loaders.

Moreover, powder and shot could be pre-loaded into the breech chambers before battle, then fired directly in combat—skipping the loading step entirely—to achieve rapid-fire effect.

Of course, the Folangji cannon had its drawbacks too: the gaps between mother chamber and breech chambers were large, letting propellant gases escape, which limited both range and power.

Historically, after the Red Barbarian cannons appeared, the once-flourishing Folangji cannons gradually declined in the Ming dynasty.

But that was because, historically, the imperial army fought mainly on land.

At sea, as long as boarding tactics still existed, the Folangji cannon would always have its place.

José had also brought back the Siren cannons, but those were too heavy—they had to be moved with a wooden crane boom.

Hauling one up onto the beach just to show Lin Qian would be a pure waste of labor.

Lin Qian decided that once the rest of the firearms were unloaded, he would use the Santa Ana's crane boom to mount the Siren cannons directly onto the Santa Ana's gun deck.

Having finished inspecting the firearms, Lin Qian was very satisfied with José's work. He waved his hand, and a crewman walked over carrying a brocade box.

"Well done. This is your consulting fee for this period," Lin Qian said.

José took the brocade box and felt it was quite heavy in his hands. His heart gave a sudden leap. He opened it and saw, sure enough, eight gold ingots lying inside.

The gleaming yellow gold ingots dyed José's dilated pupils gold.

José closed the brocade box, and the smile on his face grew considerably warmer.

Then he told Lin Qian many things he had seen and heard in Macao.

As they spoke, Lin Qian had someone fetch Chen Jiao and Mute Huang.

In a short while, Chen Jiao, Mute Huang, and his apprentice arrived together at the beach.

Pointing at the Haicang ships that were unloading cargo, Lin Qian said, "José has shipped back twenty-four Folangji cannons from Macao. I did a rough estimate — the decks of the Haicang ships can each carry six cannons.

Big Brother, pick out three ships in good condition from the harbor and hand them to Uncle Huang to have the cannons mounted."

Lin Qian continued, "The remaining six Folangji cannons will go on the top deck of the Santa Ana.

There are also four Siren heavy cannons, which will be installed on the gun deck as well.

It just so happens the Santa Ana is due for maintenance anyway, so mounting the cannons can be done at the same time as the overhaul.

While the Santa Ana is under repair, defense of the sea will be handled by the Haicang ships with the Folangji cannons mounted."

"Yes, sir." Chen Jiao clasped his hands in salute.

Lin Qian then said to Uncle Huang, "In the short term, a dry dock can't be built, so the Santa Ana's maintenance will have to be done at sea."

Mute Huang gestured for them to wait, picked up a tree branch, and ran over to a patch of wet sand to draw.

The others followed.

They saw Mute Huang draw a tipped-over spinning top.

His apprentice said, "Master says you can use the careening method — put ballast stones on one side to expose the other side above the waterline, and that way you can repair the bottom of the hull."

Chen Jiao nodded and said, "This method has been used by quite a few sea bandits."

But Lin Qian shook his head: "Ming Fujian junks have low freeboard and are small ships, so this trick works for them. The Santa Ana has high freeboard and a high center of gravity — using this method would be too dangerous."

Mute Huang lowered his head again and drew a slope, with a square recessed groove on the slope, and a ship drawn inside the groove. Then he gestured at his apprentice with sign language.

The apprentice said, "Master says you can use the beaching method — dig a large pit in the sand, lay down a slipway, and while the tide is rising, haul the ship onto the slipway and drag it into the pit. After the tide goes out, you can repair the bottom of the hull. Once the repairs are done, wait for the next rising tide and push the ship back into the sea."

José exclaimed in surprise, "He just sketches a picture at random and waves his hands around a bit, and you can understand what he means?"

The apprentice scratched his head sheepishly and explained, "My father was also a mute. I'm used to it."

Chen Jiao said, "Helmsman, I've never seen sea bandits use this method, but I've heard that in the early years, smugglers in the Fujian-Guangdong region all did it this way. It should work."

Lin Qian rested his chin in his hand and pondered for a moment.

The sand was soft, and with a slipway laid down, as long as they were careful, the keel wouldn't be damaged.

Compared to dry dock repair it was still risky, but it fell within an acceptable range.

The key issue was that if they insisted on waiting for a dry dock to be completed, there was no telling how long it would take. Even if Lin Qian could afford to wait, the all-wooden galleon could not — shipworms and barnacles weren't afraid of cannons. If they waited any longer, the shipworms would multiply and become even harder to clean out.

So Lin Qian made up his mind and said, "Then that's what we'll do! Uncle Huang, you're in charge of building the beach slipway. Big Brother, you're in charge of allocating manpower and supplies — put all the prisoners to work helping. If there still isn't enough hands, spend silver to hire people on the island. Everything is to be done with shortening the Santa Ana's repair timeline as the priority — don't worry about the cost in silver."

Chen Jiao and Mute Huang clasped their hands together and acknowledged the order in unison.

With Chen Jiao overseeing the Construction Bureau, craftsmen, labor, and building materials were all mobilized with great speed.

That very afternoon, three hundred prisoners were dispatched to dig the pit, and another fifty prisoners went up the mountain to cut timber for the slipway.

Mute Huang located the temporary dry dock at Qing'ao Bay on the east side of the island.

This spot was east of Mount Guolao, facing the South China Sea, with a gentle sandy beach and no people around for miles — just right for building a temporary dry dock.

The only drawback was that it was a bit far from Nan'ao town, with Mount Guolao blocking the way in between, making land travel inconvenient.

Fortunately, Lin Qian had plenty of ships, so daily food, supplies, and personnel movement could all go by sea, sparing them the ordeal of climbing over mountains.

The main workforce for the temporary dry dock was the prisoners. These people were used to living in shacks, so putting up new shacks at Qing'ao Bay was no trouble at all.

Before work began, Lin Qian had people carefully measure the Santa Ana's length and width, draft, keel length, hull shape, and various other data, and handed it all to Mute Huang for reference.

The temporary dry dock Mute Huang designed was simple in structure — a rectangular pit dug down into the beach.

At the bottom of the pit, a flat surface was left slightly higher than sea level, and between the flat surface and the sea was a gentle slope of about five to ten degrees.

On both sides of the pit bottom and the flat surface, another small rectangular pit was dug on each side. Three logs were nailed together and buried half-crosswise into the pit, with the slope formed by two of the logs left exposed on top as keel blocks to support the ship's sides, preventing the keel from bearing stress and being damaged.

The surface of the logs was polished and coated with vegetable oil and lard for lubrication, to avoid wearing down the hull bottom.

During the time the dry dock was being built,

the work of mounting Folangji cannons on the Haicang ships was also proceeding in parallel.

Chen Jiao carefully selected three Haicang ships, and Lin Qian personally drew up the designs for the gun positions.

The Haicang ships had low freeboard, making it unsuitable to install gunports or a gun deck, so all gun positions were arranged on the open deck.

The six cannons were placed along the port and starboard sides respectively, with gun carriages supporting the barrels, and the carriages fitted with breeching ropes connected to the ship's structure.

Along the sides of the Haicang ships, there was only a single thin layer of planking serving as the bulwark, which couldn't withstand the recoil of cannon fire.

Lin Qian redesigned and reinforced the ship's structure, adding twelve gun carriage bases to the bulwark. The bases were connected to the deck and the ship's sides, and each Folangji cannon had two recoil ropes tied to the bases to keep it stable.

At the same time, the bulwark planking was thickened, and netting pockets were added inside the bulwark, which could hold the sailors' hammocks for sleeping.

The advantage of this structure was that once a battle broke out at sea, the wet hammocks and bulwark could somewhat block stray arrows and flying splinters.

At the same time, since the crew now had hammocks for berths, the crew quarters that had taken up so much space on the ship could all be eliminated.

The freed-up space was used to store gunpowder and weapons.

This was only Lin Qian's stopgap measure for refitting the Haicang ships. Although the refitted ships had greatly increased firepower, their maneuverability and speed inevitably declined.

Their strategic role was to protect the Santa Ana during battle, and to use light firepower to sweep enemy decks, preventing the enemy from coming alongside and boarding.

They could barely be classified as escort frigates.

Therefore, Lin Qian named the refitted Haicang ships the Sea Wolf-class frigates.

For ease of remembering, Lin Qian named the three refitted ships Sea Wolf One, Sea Wolf Two, and Sea Wolf Three.

The three Sea Wolf ships formally joined the Nan'ao Island sea bandit faction from this day forward.

(End of chapter)

Yahei

Pink Round

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