Chapter 125: Arriving at Liaodong

Centipede boats were already waiting on the sea nearby. The ropes connecting the pilings to the gantry frame were untied and lashed to the centipede boats, and a dozen or so men pulled at the oars together, towing the pilings to shore.

Timber this thick, able to withstand the pressure of the sea, was hard to come by, so it had to be recovered and reused.

On the cofferdam, the craftsmen used the same method to pull out the remaining pilings one by one.

Then Bailangzai piloted the great Fujian junk, its stern aimed at the dry dock entrance, and draft animals hauled the great Fujian junk into the dock.

The dry dock used a floating caisson gate, made entirely of wood. When not filled with water, it floated on the sea surface like a strange ship.

After the great Fujian junk entered the dock, ropes and centipede boats towed the caisson gate to its designated position at the dock mouth, then the sea valves were opened and water was let in to sink it.

The process of the caisson gate sinking as it filled used the principle of communicating vessels — no external force was needed to pump the water in, and the gate sank quickly.

Both sides of the caisson gate had graduated markings. Craftsmen at the dock mouth watched the readings intently; once the gate neared the bottom, they would tell the craftsman operating the sea valves to turn the knobs and narrow the valve openings, slowing the gate's descent so the bottom would not strike and be damaged.

At the bottom of the dock mouth was a groove matching the caisson gate's length and width. Inside the groove, hemp cord and straw soaked in tung oil had been laid in advance to ensure watertightness.

Once the caisson gate was fully settled on the bottom, the ten animal-powered water pumps at the rear of the dry dock began to turn.

The pumps selected were eight screw pumps and two chain pumps, with the upper outlets of all pumps connected to drainage channels, letting gravity carry the water back to the sea.

The screw pumps were suited for drawing turbid seawater laden with silt, while the chain pumps were suited for fine work in low-lying collection sumps — the two types of pumps complemented each other perfectly.

The onshore portion of the screw pumps also had a specially made chain-and-gear speed-changing mechanism, allowing a greater force at a smaller turning radius to drive the screw pumps in rapid rotation, increasing displacement and making the most of the animal power.

The design of this entire dry dock was partly technology the Great Ming already possessed, and partly Lin Qian's "inventions and creations."

Looking down from East Dun Point, one could see a dozen or more winches turning ceaselessly around the dry dock, ropes of every color crisscrossing in a dizzying tangle, countless boats, men, and beasts laboring around the dock, and seawater pouring down the four drainage troughs like white waterfalls — a truly stunning spectacle.

Seeing such a sight, one felt a proud sense that man could conquer heaven.

A single dry dock consumed this much labor — no wonder that after the early Ming, the Great Ming stopped building treasure ships to sail the seas.

All the sworn brothers watched transfixed.

Even Lei Sanxiang sighed in admiration: "This scene is somewhat like a military formation. This trip wasn't wasted after all."

Scholar Zhou recited a poem in reflection: "Lu You of the Southern Song wrote: 'Red-clad laborers chisel through the mountain's sea-root; the pillar stands firm, guarding the sea gate.' The scene in that poem — today I have finally witnessed it."

Chen Jiao murmured: "I suspect even the treasure ship docks of those years were no more than this."

Zheng Zhilong said nothing, thinking to himself: "I thought Macao's dry dock was the finest under heaven, but compared to the dry dock on this island, it's like a small witch before a great one."

Then he stole another glance at Lin Qian, sighing inwardly: "The helmsman is skilled at both navigation and war — how can he also understand the construction of dry docks? Can any man in this world truly know so much? I used to pride myself on self-teaching Portuguese, but compared to the helmsman, I feel utterly ashamed..."

The pumping had gone on for an hour, and dusk was now approaching. Someone in the dry dock shouted: "Stop!"

All the pumps halted at once, and the flow in the dry dock's drainage channels gradually thinned.

Then craftsmen took sounding lines to measure the water level inside the dry dock.

Stoneworker Chu was somewhat nervous: "Honored overseers, this is to check the watertightness of the caisson gate. We must wait two hours."

Two hours later, the sky was fully dark. Torches were lit around the dry dock, and the craftsmen measured the water level again: "Water depth: two zhang, three chi."

The moment those words fell, thunderous cheers erupted all around the dry dock.

Stoneworker Chu received the news, his face beaming with smiles, his voice trembling with excitement: "Honored overseers, in two hours the water level barely changed... We've done it! We've done it!"

"Excellent!" Lei Sanxiang punched the air heavily.

The other brothers looked at one another and laughed.

Stoneworker Chu was so overcome he kept wiping his eyes with his dirty sleeve. Seeing this, Lin Qian tore a strip of cloth from his own clothes and handed it to him.

"Helmsman..." Stoneworker Chu dared not accept it, tears washing channels through the dust on his face.

Lin Qian said generously: "I came out in a hurry and didn't bring a handkerchief. Fortunately my clothes are still fairly clean — don't be put off, use this to wipe."

"No, no, no..." Stoneworker Chu waved his hands hastily, whether meaning he dared not take it or did not mind, it was hard to say.

Lin Qian pressed the cloth into his hand and said: "You are a meritorious man for building the dry dock — you can't afford to ruin your eyes. Use this for now. When I return to the city, I'll send you all handkerchiefs — Chaozhou silk, three for each man. And there will be rewards: every craftsman who took part in building the dry dock gets twenty taels, and every apprentice ten taels!"

Stoneworker Chu sobbed beyond words, clasping his hands in salute: "This old man thanks the helmsman on behalf of everyone!"

In the Great Ming, the artisan register was legally that of good commoners, but in practice quasi-mean status, subject to considerable discrimination — when had they ever received such regard from those in power?

Stoneworker Chu had also been seized and brought to the island by Lin Qian. When he first arrived, like everyone else, his heart was full of fear and resentment, and every day he schemed about how to escape.

But as time went on, he discovered that the island's folk were simple and honest, there was no oppression from officials, no discrimination from gentry, and working for the helmsman — he truly paid wages.

The wages were higher than on shore by no small margin. Though prices on the island were also high, with the good pay one could still live a decent life — far more comfortable than on the mainland.

As time passed, his thoughts of escape faded, and instead he found the life quite sweet.

Lin Qian's high pay satisfied his need for survival, and the island's stable political environment satisfied his need for security.

His family had all been brought to the island, so he had no ties left on shore to begin with; and since the island had no discrimination against craftsmen, his needs for love and belonging were satisfied as well.

Later, Lin Qian taught him the method for making cement mortar and put him in charge of building the dry dock. He felt a heavy responsibility on his shoulders; ever since receiving the commission, he had worried day and night, sparing no effort, not daring the slightest error, fearful of failing the trust placed in him.

Now that the dry dock was completed in triumph and he had won Lin Qian's approval, his needs for esteem and self-actualization were all satisfied at once.

Stoneworker Chu naturally knew nothing of Maslow's hierarchy of needs — he only felt content and wanted nothing more, feeling that from ancient times to the present, for a stonemason to reach the level he had was truly the pinnacle.

At this very moment, even if someone tied him up and carried him back to the mainland, he would find a way to return to the island.

It wasn't just him who thought this way — when he drank and chatted privately with his old brothers, they all felt the same.

When drinking, they would also say that the helmsman was going to build big houses on the island with courtyards and skylights, and even si dian jin mansions and grand da cuo houses.

Every time he was tired from work, Stoneworker Chu only had to think of the si dian jin and da cuo houses to feel that life had promise, and his body found new strength.

In truth, the demands of craftsmen and common folk were not high — nothing more than fairness, the ability to distribute according to labor.

Unfortunately, the gentry on shore did not understand this, and neither did the rulers of the Great Ming.

Their minds, stuffed full of schemes and classics, had no idea who truly created the wealth of the world.

It was getting late.

After the water level was measured, the craftsmen each returned to their barracks to rest, while the ten pumps beside the dry dock continued turning on their own without pause.

Thanks to the oxen, mules, and other draft animals that Hu Zhaoyuan had delivered to the island, the pumps could run day and night. The animals worked in two shifts — the beasts rested, but the machines never stopped.

Even at this intensity of work, draining the water from the dry dock would take three to four days, and only then could they go down into the dock to work.

Lin Qian found Mute Huang, gave him a few instructions on matters to note in the overhaul of the great Fujian junk, then took his brothers by boat back to Houjiang Bay Harbor.

After spending a long time on Nan'ao Island, the crew had grown familiar with the sea conditions around the island, and could navigate safely even in the dark.

At midnight, Chen Jiao arrived at the captain's cabin of the Santa Ana as Lin Qian had instructed. After knocking and entering, he found Bailangzai there as well.

Chen Jiao clasped his fists in greeting: "Navigator, Seventh Brother."

Lin Qian said, "Have a seat, Big Brother. Help yourself to tea."

"No need—drinking this late will keep me awake." Chen Jiao waved his hand.

Lin Qian: "Fair enough. It's late, so I'll skip the pleasantries. Bailangzai, give Big Brother the thing."

"Yes." Bailangzai acknowledged, pulled a small booklet from his bosom, and handed it to Chen Jiao. He then fetched a wooden chest half a man's height, fitted with a lock at the opening.

Chen Jiao recognized it at a glance—it was the chest holding the sextant. That instrument had always been in the keeping of Bailangzai, who served as navigator; no one else was even allowed to touch it. Why would it be brought out for him today?

Bailangzai unlocked the chest, took out the sextant, and said, "This is something the navigator made, called a sextant, used for measuring latitude. You should know of it, Big Brother. Today the navigator has ordered me to hand it over to you.

That booklet contains my records of solar altitude angles and Polaris altitude angles. From now on, Big Brother must also take measurements and keep records at noon and midnight each day, without interruption as much as possible."

Chen Jiao was rather taken aback and asked, "Seventh Brother, where are you going?"

"It's Big Brother who's going to sea." Bailangzai shook his head.

Lin Qian continued, "I've decided to appoint Big Brother as Governor-General to open up the island of Dongfan. The journey is dangerous, and the sextant will help avoid veering off course."

Chen Jiao tried to speak, but Lin Qian raised his hand to stop him: "Big Brother, rest assured, it won't be for too long. Once the situation on Dongfan Island is stabilized, you can return at any time."

To Lin Qian, Dongfan Island was a treasure island.

But to the people of the Great Ming, Dongfan Island was a stretch of barbaric wilderness—the very name revealed their attitude toward it.

Though Nan'ao Island also suffered from a shortage of productive capacity and was far from a worldly paradise, it at least maintained the standard of living befitting a feudal society. Going to Dongfan Island meant returning to a primitive society.

Chen Jiao's hesitation was perfectly understandable.

After hearing Lin Qian's explanation, Chen Jiao's expression improved. After a moment's thought, he said, "I'll follow the navigator's arrangements! When do we set out?"

"The first day of the fourth month."

"That soon?" Chen Jiao was somewhat surprised.

If history had not changed, the Dutch would land on Penghu in the second year of Tianqi—that is, next year—and subsequently formally colonize Dongfan Island.

He didn't have much time to establish a foothold.

Lin Qian: "For this voyage, you'll take Sea Wolf Four, Sea Wolf Five, and the Changfeng."

"The Changfeng?"

"That's the A-2 large Fujian junk." As Lin Qian spoke, he took out a cigar, lit it against the candle flame, and blew out a long stream of smoke. "In a month, it will finish its refit, fitted with twelve Siren cannons and one fewer stern deck, making it better suited for surface combat and ocean voyages.

This ship belongs to the new Sea Lion-class frigate. I've temporarily named it the Changfeng. From now on, Big Brother will be the master of the Changfeng. If you don't like the name, you can change it."

Chen Jiao said, "The name is fine—let it be the Changfeng!"

Lin Qian took another small booklet from the table and had Bailangzai hand it to Chen Jiao.

Chen Jiao received it. The first dozen or so pages covered precautions and response strategies.

Starting from page twenty was a densely packed list. He had recently been attending the literacy teacher's lectures from time to time and had basically learned to recognize all the characters.

The list detailed the various personnel and supplies he would be bringing on this voyage.

Among them: one hundred fifty crewmen, fifty artisans of various trades, two hundred captives, one thousand eight hundred dan of rice and flour as staple provisions, and fifteen transport ships.

There were also various supplementary foods, farm tools, implements, building materials, weapons, ammunition, medicines, silver, and more—truly encompassing everything.

Every item had a specific quantity listed after it, and even the artisans' names were annotated.

Lin Qian exhaled a puff of smoke: "This list is only a draft I wrote in my spare time. There are still many omissions. It should be finalized after discussion with Second Brother and the island's craftsmen. Since Big Brother is now the Governor-General of Dongfan, I'll leave this matter to you."

"Yes." Chen Jiao clasped his fists.

Lin Qian then went on to describe the general situation of Dongfan Island and the future direction of its development.

When Chen Jiao heard that Lin Qian planned to plant sugarcane on the island, he frowned and said, "Navigator, farming requires a great deal of labor. The four hundred people going to the island are all from maritime backgrounds or registered as artisans—none of them know how to farm. Just reclaiming fields and growing enough grain for food will already be no easy task."

Lin Qian smiled mysteriously: "Don't worry about the labor for farming. I plan to leave that matter to Bai Qing."

"Oh." Chen Jiao was dubious.

"It's getting late. Go back to your cabin and rest. Opening up Dongfan is a major undertaking—we still have a month to discuss it in detail."

Early the next morning, Lin Qian was eating breakfast when he suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Bai Qing's voice came from outside: "Navigator, are you up?"

Lin Qian swallowed his rice porridge, wiped his mouth, and said, "Come in."

Bai Qing pushed the door open and entered. Seeing Lin Qian at breakfast, he said apologetically, "My fault for being too eager and coming early. Navigator, finish your meal first—I'll come back in a bit."

Lin Qian stopped him: "No need, I'm almost done."

He then wolfed down a few more mouthfuls of porridge, tossed the bowl and chopsticks aside, and wiped his mouth again.

"How is your reading coming along?"

Bai Qing replied, "I've learned to recognize all the characters, but I still can't understand all those classical particles and flourishes."

"Being able to write in plain vernacular is sufficient." With that, Lin Qian pointed to the navigation table. "That chest on the table—open it and take a look."

The chest was about half a man's height and unlocked. Bai Qing opened it to reveal a complex instrument made of lenses and wood.

"This is a sextant, newly made by Uncle Huang from camphor wood. You're Bailangzai's elder sister, so you should have heard of this thing." Lin Qian said.

Bai Qing gently touched the sextant's wooden frame: "I've only ever seen my younger brother use it from a distance. He never said anything else about it. This is the first time I've even heard the name 'sextant.'"

Lin Qian gave a rough explanation of the sextant's function, then said, "As for the specifics of how to use it, let Bailangzai teach you."

"Us?"

"And my Big Brother Chen Jiao." Lin Qian paused. "The two of you will each be going to sea."

With that, Lin Qian rose and went to the file cabinet, taking out a map—a hand-drawn chart of the Great Ming coastline by Lin Qian himself, with latitudes prominently marked at various locations.

The method was simple: using Nan'ao Island's latitude of 23°N and the Yangtze River mouth's 30°N as reference points, other latitudes were marked at equal intervals with a ruler.

The map certainly couldn't be called precise, but compared to the maps sold in Great Ming bookshops, at least the proportions of the major peninsulas, islands, and landmasses were roughly correct.

Lin Qian gestured for Bai Qing to put away the sextant, spread the map across the navigation table, and pointed to where the seas of Fujian and Guangdong met.

"Here—this is Nan'ao Island, where we are now. Heading north along the coastline, you pass Fujian, Zhejiang, South Zhili, Shandong, all the way up to here… Liaodong."

Lin Qian's finger stopped on the peninsula in the northeast of the Great Ming.

"Your destination on this voyage is Liaodong."

Ten days later, Bai Qing led three Sea Wolf ships, six Haicang vessels, and twenty Cangshan boats out of port, heading north toward Liaodong.

The fleet also brought along the Spaniards' caravel—a fast ship well-suited for carrying messages, which Lin Qian had named the Carrier Pigeon.

Following Lin Qian's instructions, the fleet stayed in open waters at all times. At noon and at night each day, Bai Qing measured the latitude and recorded it in the ship's log.

In the third month, the northwest monsoon weakened and often shifted unpredictably with the southeast monsoon—not a good time for sailing.

But Bai Qing's fleet was crewed entirely by master sailors. Changing sails seven or eight times within a single incense-stick's burn was routine for them, and they had no fear of shifting winds. Sailing a straight line through open seas rather than hugging the coastline with all its twists and turns, the fleet made extremely good speed.

In just twenty days, they reached 39 degrees north latitude—which, according to the map Lin Qian had given her, was already Liaodong's latitude.

Bai Qing ordered the fleet to sail west. This was unfamiliar waters to the crew, and everyone navigated with great care.

Around noon, the lookout cried out in delight: "Land! We've reached shore!"

Bai Qing stepped out of the aft cabin, shaded her eyes with her hand, and gazed toward the bow. A line of green had appeared on the horizon.

Bai Qing gave the order: "Change course to the northeast, sail along the coast, and look for an island."

Before departure, Lin Qian had instructed Bai Qing that the Jianzhou barbarians in Liaodong were skilled horsemen and archers, and the sailors would be no match for them in land combat. Fortunately, the Jianzhou barbarians had no seagoing ships, so upon reaching Liaodong, she should first find an island to set up camp, then pursue the remaining tasks slowly.

Acknowledging the order, the fleet turned as one and sailed northeast.

Liaodong had many islands—in just two hours, the lookout spotted a large one.

Bai Qing ordered two Sea Wolf ships to circle the island for reconnaissance. Once they confirmed it was safe, the fleet came ashore and set up camp.

The fleet had brought a great quantity of supplies, and after landing, the sailors were busy unloading without pause.

Bai Qing set up the camp on a flat stretch in the middle of the island.

While the camp was being pitched, a small boat was spotted passing by at sea. Fearing word might leak out, Bai Qing sent Zhong Aqi with two Sea Wolf ships to seize the people on board.

An hour later, Zhong Aqi brought back three sturdy young fishermen, bound, and presented them before Bai Qing.

The three knelt on the ground, faces stricken with terror, knocking their heads repeatedly while babbling incomprehensible words: "Babuna… babuna…"

Bai Qing felt a slight headache coming on and asked: "Are you Han people? Do you speak the official tongue?"

Having spent so long on the island, Bai Qing had practiced her Mandarin to a passable level—her Cantonese accent was still heavy, but it didn't hinder communication.

The fishermen exchanged glances upon hearing this, their eyes showing both joy and wariness.

One of them ventured cautiously: "May I ask… are you the Great Ming naval forces?"

He too spoke the official tongue, with an extremely thick Liaodong accent—Bai Qing could barely understand him.

She nodded, took out her waist token, and said: "I am Company Commander Zhao Qian, under the Military Commissioner of Liaodong."

This identity had been decided by Lin Qian. The status of a Ming official soldier made it convenient to operate in Liaodong, but claiming to be directly from the Fujian-Guangdong navy would be too implausible. Saying she served under the Liaodong Military Commissioner gave her authority and jurisdiction to operate here as a matter of course.

Indeed, Bai Qing's waist token bore the name Zhao Qian—though in small characters it noted her affiliation as camp soldiers of the Nan'ao naval forces.

This small discrepancy didn't matter much, since in most situations, a waist token only needed to be flashed briefly.

Even if someone truly investigated, the excuse was simple: Liaodong's military situation was urgent, she had been temporarily conscripted, and there had been no time to exchange the token.

Upon hearing Bai Qing's reply, the fishermen fell silent for a moment—then suddenly burst into loud wailing. Three strapping young men crying at the top of their lungs made quite a spectacle.

It drew the sidelong glances of the sailors pitching camp all around.

"What are you crying about? I'm not going to kill you!" Bai Qing shouted, baffled.

She thought to herself: even the Tanka boat people at the mouth of the Pearl River wouldn't weep like this at the sight of official soldiers. Could the Liaodong official troops really be worse than those of Fujian and Guangdong?

In her understanding, the Fujian-Guangdong official soldiers were already evil to the extreme. She truly couldn't imagine how bad the Liaodong troops must be to drive people to such a state.

But the fishermen's next words made Bai Qing's jaw drop.

"Sir soldier! We've been waiting for you!"

The fisherman cried out to the sky, as if trying to roar out all the pent-up anguish in his chest. Then, weeping and wailing, he knocked his head against the ground without stopping.

The force of his head-knocking was even greater than when he'd been babbling strange words and begging for mercy—and all three fishermen did the same.

Bai Qing said sternly: "No more crying, and no more kowtowing. Tell me what happened, from beginning to end. Three grown men—stop being so wishy-washy!"

The fishermen wiped their tears and choked back their sobs, saying: "I suppose you don't know yet, General—half a month ago, Shenyang fell… and just a few days later, Liaoyang fell too… those damned Tartars who deserve a thousand deaths!"

Even through his tears, when the fisherman uttered the word "Tartars," his jaw clenched tight and his face twisted with fury.

"The Tartars in our village… killed… killed so many people… The three of us brothers lived close to the sea, so we managed to escape. Alas, but our fellow villagers all…"

Bai Qing's expression did not change—Lin Qian had already told her about the Jianzhou barbarians breaching Liaoyang and Shenyang before she set sail.

Her greatest mission on this voyage was to take in refugees from Liaodong.

What truly astonished Bai Qing was that, according to the fishermen, the Jianzhou barbarians had breached Liaoyang and Shenyang half a month ago—yet Lin Qian had told her of this news a full month in advance.

Even the order in which the cities fell, the barbarians' brutality after the breach, and the misery of the Han people all matched the helmsman's words exactly, without the slightest difference.

Even though Bai Qing knew the helmsman possessed the ability to foresee events with divine precision, she still couldn't help feeling shocked at this moment.

It was fortunate that Bai Qing wasn't well-read and didn't fully grasp the gravity of such matters of state. Had it been Zheng Zhilong in her place, he would never have remained as calm as Bai Qing.

Bai Qing had the fishermen rise, untied their ropes, and gave them dry biscuits to eat. She asked: "That 'ba' something you were saying at first—was that the Tartars' language?"

The three were wolfing down the dry biscuits and choked, unable to speak. Finally, thumping their chests to swallow, they said: "Yes, the Tartars' bird talk! We only know a few phrases—for begging mercy."

Bai Qing asked again: "Where is your village? Is it far from here?"

The three stopped eating and looked at Bai Qing.

(End of chapter)

Yahei

Pink Circle