Chapter 149: Snowy Night, Evil Ghosts, Pursuit

Six nautical miles off the Tianyuan's starboard side.

Yan Siqi stood frozen at the bow, staring dumbfounded at the flames of Guigang before him.

Sure enough, his earlier unease had been confirmed—Guigang was under attack, and at the very first exchange, it faced the danger of being overwhelmed.

On the shore of the lagoon, two cannon ships of unknown identity were bombarding Guigang relentlessly, their broadside guns firing in an unbroken roar.

Under the ravages of the gunfire, Guigang had already risen into rolling black smoke, shrouded in blazing flames.

It was over. Everything was over.

Yan Siqi felt every limb and bone drained of all strength, his heart aching as if bleeding.

Guigang was the foundation of his foothold in Dongfan. Once destroyed, his thirteen ships would be like rootless duckweed—finding another place to land would be immensely difficult.

And the dream of occupying Dongfan while reaching toward Fujian and Guangdong could never be realized either.

Truly, "Before the campaign could triumph, he fell in death—ever making heroes weep into their sleeves!"

O vast heaven above, why are you so unkind to me!

As Yan Siqi wallowed in self-pity, a sharp crack sounded by his ear.

He followed the sound and saw, in the clear sky, a faint signal rocket bursting open. Beneath the rocket, a slender single-masted boat was darting swiftly across the water.

"Not good—the enemy has spotted us!" Yang Tiansheng shouted. "Quick, take down those two small boats!"

The flagship's signal flags passed the order, and two three-masted Fujian junks broke from Yan Siqi's fleet, giving chase to the hawk boat.

But the hawk boat was far too nimble. The two three-masted Fujian junks chased for a long while, yet the distance only grew instead of shrinking.

The hawk boat grew so emboldened that it even paused and waited, and when the gap widened, it would calmly linger for the junks to catch up.

It infuriated Yan Siqi's men so much they nearly spat blood.

"Bang!" Before long, two more signal rockets shot up from the hawk boat.

On the shore of the lagoon, the enemy flagship had noticed something amiss. It ceased its bombardment, raised sail, turned about, and began sailing toward Yan Siqi's fleet.

Yan Siqi knew in his heart he could wait no longer—fight or flee, he must decide at once.

"Ship lord, let us attack!"

His men, seeing Guigang destroyed, were all stricken with grief and fury, wishing only to charge the enemy vessel at once and hack its crew to pieces!

Besides, in terms of numbers, the enemy had only one ship, while their own fleet numbered a full thirteen.

No matter how one looked at it, the advantage was theirs!

Even if the enemy's cannons were formidable, thirteen Fujian junks swarming in at once would drown the enemy even if nothing else.

"Ship lord, don't hesitate—let me avenge the brothers of Guigang!"

"If we all charge in together, as long as we can grapple alongside, we're sure to take that enemy ship!"

Listening to his men's bold declarations, Yan Siqi's heart only sank deeper into the abyss.

Hirado was a trading port for the Dutch, Portuguese, English, and other nations. Having lived there long and absorbed its ways, he knew well the power of cannons.

Moreover, the sheer size of that great cannon ship's hull, the height of its bulwarks, and the number of its guns were all things Yan Siqi had never seen in his life.

For his thirteen Fujian junks to fight that great cannon ship head-on would be no different from smashing eggs against rocks!

Even if Li Dan's "Yingzhou Fire-Sail Battalion" were sent to fight it, there would be no certainty of victory.

The only course now was to flee—humiliating, yes, but it would preserve their lives.

As long as they kept their lives, there would always be a day for revenge!

With that thought, Yan Siqi squeezed out through clenched teeth: "Set course northwest!"

"What?" Yang Tiansheng could hardly believe his ears. Northwest—wasn't that just turning tail and running?

Yan Siqi snapped angrily: "I said set course northwest!"

Yang Tiansheng looked at his ship lord with utter astonishment, and after a long moment, could only pass the order as commanded.

Turning the fleet around took an extremely long time.

The two hawk boats, perhaps having discerned that Yan Siqi's fleet carried no cannons, brazenly edged closer to probe.

Three hundred paces, two hundred paces, one hundred paces—all the way down to about fifty paces.

Seeing that Yan Siqi's fleet remained completely still...

The crewmen on the hawk boats simply pulled out their matchlock muskets and opened fire on Yan Siqi's fleet.

At fifty paces' distance, on the heaving sea, the matchlocks could hardly be expected to hit anything.

But even if not a single shot landed, it could at least delay the enemy's turnabout.

Moreover, Yan Siqi's fleet was a large target—fire enough shots, and some were bound to hit by luck.

Yang Tiansheng watched the hawk boat arrogantly provoking them by the gunwale, his chest aching with rage as he roared: "You whelps, how dare you humiliate me so!"

Before the words even died, a whistling sound passed his ear—a crewman beside him took a bullet, half his skull blown away, red and white matter splattering. His body crashed down, twitching incessantly as blood stained the deck red.

Yang Tiansheng was splattered with gore, his eyes blazing wide as he bellowed: "Iron gunners! Return fire!"

Soon, crewmen carrying iron guns surged up from below deck, reached the gunwale, raised their weapons, and fired.

These so-called "iron guns" were Japanese-style muskets, modeled after Portuguese firearms—finely crafted, with performance nearly on par with the Portuguese originals, and even showing signs of surpassing the master.

Fortunately, the hawk boat was a small target, and the iron guns' volley all flew wide.

Seeing that the enemy also had muskets, the hawk boat's crew dared not remain cocky. They hastily stowed their guns and turned about.

Their sails were easy to handle and their turning extremely agile—in but a moment, they had already pulled away a dozen-plus paces.

The iron gunners didn't even get a chance to fire a second volley.

Watching the enemy ships retreat into the distance, Yang Tiansheng was so furious he nearly spat blood! Since joining Ship Lord Li's command, he had never lost a single sea battle—when had he ever fought so ignominiously, or endured such insult!

"Ship lord, let us attack!" Yang Tiansheng pleaded almost desperately.

But Yan Siqi remained unmoved, pointing at the Tianyuan, which was steadily closing in, and said: "Look at that—what is that?"

Yang Tiansheng looked, his pupils contracting as he drew in a sharp breath: "The Great Ming sun-and-moon banner!"

They watched as the Tianyuan slowly raised a square flag, its surface embroidered with the sun and moon hanging in the sky, blue field with red borders, flame patterns swaying in the wind.

As a sea bandit, Yang Tiansheng had seen this kind of sun-and-moon flag many times—they were planted all over the guard stations along the Ming coast.

But this flag hung high from the stern of a warship, fluttering proudly in the wind, its presence far more imposing than any guard station banner.

Yet seeing it now, Yang Tiansheng could not help but feel a jolt of shock—that great warship—it was actually the Ming naval forces!

This shock was no small matter. Yang Tiansheng's burning blood suddenly turned to ice. Like a mouse seeing a cat, his whole body froze stiff, and cold sweat began to pour.

The sea bandits did not put the Ming in their eyes because the imperial navy was riddled with corruption, its commanders held sinecures without doing their duty, and its ships were badly aged.

Now a great Ming warship suddenly appearing before their eyes—what did it mean?

With all the resources of the Ming poured into coastal defense, across this vast sea frontier, was there still any way for them to survive?

No wonder Wanggang had suffered utter destruction—so it was an imperial crackdown! That explained everything.

But the court's hand—how ruthless! They would not even give them the chance to offer protection money in exchange for their lives!

They watched the Ming warship sail within three hundred paces.

With a boom, the warship's bow cannon fired.

The cannonball splashed into the sea, and the spray drenched Yang Tiansheng.

The impact point was less than fifty paces from their ship—truly accurate!

Both Yang and Yan were stricken with terror.

Hirado had many cannon ships, and the two men were well-traveled, but neither the barbarian warships nor the Fire Sail Battalion of the eastern isles had ever fired a shot that landed this close.

A moment later, a second shot came, landing only ten paces from the ship.

At that distance, it might as well have been a hit—merely a matter of whether a wave rose or fell.

This shot proved not only that the first was no luck, but also showed how quickly the Ming warship could reload.

Gunners of such skill—how many great battles must one fight to be trained up like that!

The situation in Liaodong was collapsing, yet the court was drilling troops in the southeast instead! Were they turning heaven on its head?

Yan Siqi muttered inwardly: "Damned Tianqi! Spending so lavishly on the southeast coast defenses—does he not want Liaodong anymore? The people of Liaodong are drowning in misery, and instead of thinking of reconquest, you build this great warship in the southeast—what do you intend? Is competing with the people for profit truly so important? A truly damned emperor! The Ming will sooner or later see its realm toppled!"

Fortunately, Yan Siqi's fleet had already completed its turn; as long as they escaped pursuit, there was still a thread of hope.

The sun stood at its zenith. Yan Siqi's fleet, sails stretched full, was about to exit the lagoon.

"Crack!" Another red firework rose from the Tianyuan.

Yan Siqi was wondering at this when he suddenly heard the lookout call: "Enemy ships ahead off the port bow!"

His heart jolted. He looked to port and saw a great naval Fujian junk emerging from behind Tayouan Isle—it was the Changfeng, which had been anchored here.

Yan Siqi's fleet had passed north of Tayouan Isle, while the Changfeng was anchored off the south shore. By the time Yan Siqi's fleet spotted it, the distance between them was already under a thousand paces.

Worst of all, the Changfeng sat precisely at the fleet's forward flank—to exit the lagoon, the fleet had to pass the Changfeng first.

Yan Siqi saw clearly: this enemy ship was over ten zhang in total length, imposing and mighty, unlike an ordinary Fujian junk—clearly a "Number One Fujian Junk," used exclusively by the Ming naval forces.

His heart seized with dread—could the Ming navy have known he was coming and set an ambush here in advance?

But—the vast sea was immeasurably wide; none of his men could possibly have leaked word.

How had the government forces known his route so precisely, and how had they calculated the timing of his arrival?

Could there truly be a figure like Liu Bowen in this world?

In the time it took to eat a meal, the enemy ship off the port bow had sailed within three hundred paces, lowered half its sails, exposed its broadside, extended its cannons, and waited for Yan Siqi's fleet to charge into it.

And with the Ming flagship in hot pursuit behind, Yan Siqi could not turn his fleet away—he had no choice but to charge headlong.

Within two hundred paces, the great Fujian junk opened fire. Though its broadside carried only six cannons, its field of fire was excellent.

After a dozen or more volleys, the fleet's lead ship was riddled with holes, its casualties severe.

Fortunately, the great junk was not fast; it managed to keep pace for barely the time it takes a cup of tea, then fell behind the fleet.

Yan Siqi breathed a sigh of relief as the fleet swiftly exited the lagoon and fled toward the northwest.

Aboard the Tianyuan, Lin Qian ordered: "Have the Changfeng return to port."

For the chase that followed, the Changfeng's speed would be of no use.

Bailangzai relayed the order. A moment later, the five-colored flags waved, and a yellow signal rocket shot into the sky.

The Changfeng received the order and turned back.

Soon, the Tianyuan also exited the lagoon, adjusted its course, and gave chase due northwest.

At the same time, its cannons continued to fire without cease.

At the Tianyuan's speed, catching the enemy ships was only a matter of time.

Just then, Lin Qian keenly noticed that the enemy fleet seemed to be turning slightly to starboard.

A northeast wind howled across the sea. The enemy fleet was about to tack at a shallow angle, using the eight-direction wind-catching nature of Chinese hard sails to shake off the Tianyuan with its soft sails!

Lin Qian had used this very trick himself in Manila.

Across all of East Asia, the only ones who knew the strengths and weaknesses of both Chinese and Western ships—besides Lin Qian's own force—were Li Dan's men entrenched in Hirado.

No wonder they had suddenly appeared at Wanggang—everything now fell into place.

But the Tianyuan had three lateen sails; its upwind efficiency was somewhat better than ordinary soft sails, though its speed dropped greatly—just barely able to keep pace with Chinese hard-sailed ships.

On the distant sea, Yan Siqi saw that the government flagship was unafraid of the headwind and had turned to follow his fleet. His eyes flew wide and stayed unblinking for a long time, as if he wished he could pop his eyeballs right out.

This was wrong! This trick had been personally taught by Ship Lord Li—why was it not working?

Though the ship's speed had dropped greatly, it was nearly level with his own fleet.

But to the northwest lay land—if they were chased like this for two or three days, they would run straight into the shore and have no choice but to surrender.

Yan Siqi gritted his teeth and said to his men: "Keep turning to starboard—I don't believe they can keep following!"

The helmsman forced the turn, but the ship suddenly lost speed violently and lurched; they had no choice but to turn back to port and switch again.

Yang Tiansheng said in a heavy tone: "Ship Lord, we've turned as far as we can."

Yan Siqi truly wanted to cry but had no tears; despair surged in his heart.

The official fleet's flagship was less than three hundred paces away, its cannons firing without cease—of every ten shots, one or two struck home.

At this rate, they might not even last until they reached the coast of the Great Ming before being ground down to death.

Yang Tiansheng said with deep grief, "Ship lord, the only option now is to sacrifice the rook to save the king."

Yan Siqi understood his meaning—their fleet had thirteen ships; sacrificing one to tie down the official flagship would buy the remaining ships a path to survival.

He was not an indecisive man. Having spent years in Hirado, he had grown accustomed to life and death. He steeled his heart and ordered the lead ship to turn about and delay the pursuing enemy.

When the lead ship had exited the lagoon, it had been heavily damaged by the official fleet's great Fujian junk. Even if it fled to the open sea, it could never sail back to Hirado—better to give the other ships a chance at life.

The order was relayed between ships by shouted calls.

After a long while, the lead ship received the order. Silence fell upon its deck for a moment, then a bout of argument—and finally, upon the waves, it resolutely turned about.

The lead ship passed alongside Yan Siqi's vessel. Yan Siqi gazed at the familiar figure on the lead ship's deck, his expression mournful. He clasped his hands and bowed, bending all the way to the deck.

The master of the lead ship was named Chen Xun. He and Yan Siqi had shared the same aspirations, struggled together in Hirado for many years, faced life and death side by side, and had barely managed to build up this vast enterprise.

Who could have known that today would be their final parting?

And it was Yan Siqi himself who had sent his good brother down the road of no return. The grief in his heart was beyond words.

The moment of crossing passed in a flash.

Chen Xun withdrew his gaze. He understood Yan Siqi's intent, and there was not the slightest bitterness in his heart at being abandoned by his brother.

Using the lead ship to intercept the enemy was the best option available at the moment.

Were their positions reversed, Chen Xun would have made the same choice.

"Course southeast, prepare to board!" Chen Xun gathered his emotions and drew his blade, shouting.

Behind him, the crewmen on deck grabbed their weapons and roared killing cries, their momentum intimidating.

Aboard the Tianyuan, Lin Qian saw a battered ship charging toward them and could not help but laugh. He ordered, "Turn the helm to port, dodge the incoming ship, engage the enemy on the starboard side!"

The order was passed down level by level to the lookout, the helmsman, and the gunners.

The two ships crossed paths at great speed. From over twenty paces away, the enemy ship cast grappling hooks, while the Tianyuan's starboard cannons fired in a volley.

Twenty-eight solid iron shots—not one missed, all struck home. An irresistible, overwhelming force smashed the enemy ship in two at the waist.

There was no boarding, no fierce battle, no tragic death in combat.

The Tianyuan was not even slowed down.

Chen Xun's lead ship virtually disintegrated on the spot—hull shattered, deck collapsed, sterncastle caving downward—a miserable sight.

The crewmen were either blasted to death by cannon fire, crushed beneath the collapsing structure, or thrown into the sea to await death.

After the solid iron shots, the Folangji cannons on the Tianyuan's open deck also loosed a round of grapeshot.

Thoroughly washing the enemy ship's deck clean.

This lead ship had already been severely damaged, its strength spent like an arrow at the end of its flight. Forcing a boarding action, it instead met close-range cannon fire—no wonder it could not survive even a single volley.

Yan Siqi gripped the stern rail, his eyes nearly splitting with rage. His fingernails dug almost into the wood, and he pressed so hard that blood ran from his fingers—yet he did not even notice.

Chen Xun had died to save the fleet, sacrificing himself for righteousness—but why did heaven let him die so ignominiously!

He had not even been a match for a single exchange with the Great Ming navy——

It was as if he had simply charged straight into the cannon's mouth to die, casually blasted away——

Such a death was far too stifling. How could it do justice to the heroes aboard that ship!

Yan Siqi's eyes were bloodshot, his teeth clenched. He said with hatred, "Fight to the death! At worst we die! Better than suffering humiliation!"

With escape now hopeless, and his brother dead, shame and rage surged in his heart. He could no longer suppress the hot blood rising within him and was about to order the fleet to turn about and fight to the bitter end.

But Yang Tiansheng had calmed down and urged, "Ship lord, do not act rashly. Look at the sky."

Yan Siqi slowly raised his head. He saw black clouds like a canopy shrouding the four seas. The sea surface grew ever darker, the moisture heavy, and the northeast wind grew ever more violent, howling past the hull with a shrill whistle.

This was clearly a sign that rain and snow were coming!

The change in the weather was so swift it caught one completely off guard.

In only a brief moment, scattered snowflakes mixed into the wind came pelting down. Three hundred paces away, the Ming ships had already become indistinct.

On deck, the lookout's shout rang out: "Northwest wind, bow into the wind, quick—change the sails!"

Once rain and snow arrived, the wind direction at sea shifted abruptly, changing without pattern.

Yan Siqi's heart leaped with joy. The fleet could use this fierce wind and sudden snow to slip away—this was heaven's will!

"Course due north!" he shouted toward the deck.

"Wooo——" The northwest wind howled wantonly, yet to Yan Siqi's ears it sounded like heavenly music.

In the time it took to turn the helm and change sails, the sea had darkened further, the sky almost like dusk.

In the distance, the Ming warships had vanished entirely into the darkness.

"Light the ship lanterns!"

"No lights." Yan Siqi stopped them.

If the ships lost each other or collided in the dark without lanterns, Yan Siqi would accept that too. He absolutely could not let the Ming flagship catch up and let his good brother's sacrifice be in vain.

A moment later, a "woo" sounded—the wind direction shifted again.

"Northwest wind, port side into the wind, mind the sails!" On deck, the lookouts shouted warnings to one another.

Chinese-style hard sails were easy to handle and could quickly adapt to a new wind direction, whereas the barbarians' soft sails were not so fast.

In his field of vision, the Ming flagship showed no further sign of giving chase.

Yan Siqi's taut nerves relaxed—but immediately tensed up again.

"Enemy ship sighted off the starboard side!"

"Enemy ship off the port side!"

He looked to both sides of the fleet and saw bright ship lanterns on the sea in both directions, and could faintly make out the long, slender hulls of hawk ships.

"Whoosh—crack!"

The two eagle ships on either side each fired a signal flare into the sky.

Beneath the black clouds, the red signal flares blazed brilliantly.

Yan Siqi was nearly driven mad—those two small ships clung like restless spirits, ten thousand times more annoying than flies.

Those damned signal flares, firing without end!

Yet he had absolutely no way to deal with those two eagle ships.

Yan Siqi wished he could leap into the sea, swim over, and scuttle both ships.

The wind shifted to the northeast again, and the sail handlers scrambled to change the sails.

Yan Siqi noticed with astonishment that the two small ships' progress was barely affected.

Even more terrifying, the ship on their starboard side was sailing north by east, at an extremely small angle to the wind, while maintaining a very fast speed.

To Ming sailors, such an angle was nearly indistinguishable from sailing directly into the wind.

Thinking of the two ships' tall triangular strange sails, Yan Siqi's worldview was shaken.

His lips trembled as he stammered, "How is this possible?"

"Whoosh—crack!"

Reality was cruel, granting Yan Siqi no respite—two more signal flares shot into the sky.

With such signal flares guiding the way, even if his fleet sailed to the ends of the earth, they could not escape.

They wouldn't even need to reach the ends of the earth—once the wind and snow dispersed, the fleet would be caught.

After bitter reflection, Yan Siqi made his decision, suppressing his grief and fury with great effort: "Notify all ships to scatter and flee for their lives—we'll meet again at Hirado!"

Once the fleet scattered at sea, each ship's survival odds would plummet, but with a powerful enemy at hand, there was no room for such concerns.

Yang Tiansheng also knew this was the only way and reluctantly passed the order.

After a long while, the sound of water alongside the ships diminished. The two eagle ships didn't know who to follow, buzzing around the sea like headless flies, continuously firing signal flares.

The atmosphere on deck was extremely oppressive; everyone felt as if a boulder pressed on their chests, unable to speak.

They sailed north in silence for six hours, during which the signal flares exploded without cease.

Yan Siqi's heart surged with genuine hatred: "I just don't understand—am I the only sea bandits on the entire southeastern coast? Why do they insist on chasing only me!"

He thought of how he had been law-abiding in Hirado for so many years, even looking after Ming maritime merchants, and often intervening when the Dutch bought Ming laborers.

To be hunted down so relentlessly—for what reason?

"Boom boom boom——"

Just as he was feeling aggrieved, red light flashed across the eastern horizon, followed by a continuous rumble of cannon fire arriving from afar.

A ship had been caught by the government forces!

Yan Siqi felt hatred, worry, and fear all at once—truly a mix of five flavors.

Listening to the unending cannon fire in the distance, the darkness multiplied his terror, and he felt the relentless government forces were like vengeful demons demanding his life.

He hurriedly urged the crew to turn northwest, avoiding the place of the cannon battle.

At the same time, he thought—if only that discovered ship could hold them off a little longer.

Two hours later, the distant cannon fire gradually subsided.

Another four hours passed, and signal flares exploded in the sky, followed by rumbling cannon fire rising again in the darkness.

This time, it was closer to Yan Siqi's flagship.

Listening to that cannon fire, he felt his heart and liver tremble.

Sweeping his gaze over the crew from the corner of his eye, Yan Siqi was shocked to realize that every sailor on deck wore exactly the same expression!

Nearly a hundred sailors, silent, staring blankly toward the source of the cannon fire, as motionless as wooden chickens—the scene was more terrifying than a pile of corpses.

Yan Siqi forced a smile to comfort the crew: "Hahaha——although the enemy's cannon fire is fierce, night has fallen, and they can't catch us now. Everyone can rest easy!"

An hour later, the cannon fire died down again.

Yan Siqi knew there was only one possibility—the ship that had been caught had sunk.

The entire night, Yan Siqi dared not sleep, dared not even return to his cabin. Staring with bloodshot eyes, he gazed blankly across the pitch-black sea—every sailor on the ship did the same.

In the latter half of the night, the familiar red signal flares exploded again, followed by cannon fire.

Judging by the sound, this time it was even closer.

Yan Siqi was beginning to feel despair, even thinking that fleeing was futile—rather than dying of terror, he might as well surrender to the government forces.

Just as he was sinking into despondency, a brilliant idea suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, his body trembled with excitement as he said to those around him, "Turn around, sail due south!"

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen