Chapter 159: Open and Honest, Yet Hesitant to Strike for Fear of Hitting the Vase

At the thought, Ye Xianggao silently asked himself.

If this merit was truly established by the so-called "Battalion Commander He," and Battalion Commander He was under Ma Chenglie's command—

Should they really report Nan'ao Island to the court?

These Liaodong refugees had finally found a place to shelter. If the imperial army arrived and burned Nan'ao City to the ground, how would that differ from what the Tartars did?

Besides, Ma Chenglie was hardly the only one who had established a fortified settlement.

Hadn't Mao Wenlong also taken in refugees on Pidao and established the Dongjiang garrison? Didn't the Dongjiang garrison also refuse to pay taxes to the court?

Of course, the people on Nan'ao Island were numerous, and not all of them were Liaodong folk—but most of the rest were of common birth, with accents not much different from the locals.

Moreover, since coming ashore, Lin Qian had deliberately downplayed the Tanka boat people identity marker.

When most of the Tanka were asked, they would only say their ancestors had lived on Nan'ao Island all along, or that they were family members of camp soldiers—thus the two men had not noticed anything amiss.

Seeing the two men muttering to each other, the stall owner thought they still didn't believe him, and said: "If you don't believe me, go see for yourselves at Qianjiang Bay wharf—Battalion Commander He's big ship is still moored there."

The two exchanged a glance. Ye Xianggao asked for directions, then cupped his hands and said: "Thank you."

They then headed toward the south of the island.

On the way, Ye Xianggao said: "Brother Shaofu, if Battalion Commander He truly is the hero of the great Liaodong victory, what should we do?"

"It's been so long since the court issued its rewards. Changing them now would damage the people's trust. I only hope that when the court passes judgment, it will be lenient."

Ye Xianggao sighed with emotion: "In civil governance, Commander Ma has governed the nearly ten thousand people on this island in perfect order, building a barren isle into a place of bustling prosperity.

In military achievement, first the great victory at Zhenjiang, then the great victory at Macao—it seems the entire maritime defense of the Great Ming rests on his shoulders alone.

In personal character, he does not bow to the army supervisors, does not prey upon the common people, does not fight for fame or profit—and when his credit was stolen, he thought of the greater good and said not a word.

To pass judgment on a man like this—is that not somewhat improper?"

"Jinqing, would you indulge evil and spare the guilty?" Huang Kezuan had once served as Minister of the Ministry of Justice and was known for his forthrightness—he could hardly stomach this kind of peacemaker's attitude of offsetting merit against fault.

Fearing Ye Xianggao might soften, he leaned in closer and said in a low voice: "Don't forget—this man intended to rebel!

If he had committed any other crime, so be it—but for the great crime of treason, if we know and do not report, we count as accomplices!"

Ye Xianggao's expression was troubled, and he said nothing. What occupied his mind was not any offsetting of merit against fault, nor whether he himself might be implicated.

Given his spotless reputation at court and among the people, unless the Ye family itself rebelled, he could not possibly be dragged in.

What truly worried Ye Xianggao was this: if Ma Chenglie could bombard Zhenjiang, he could sail into the Bohai Sea and bombard the capital region.

The Bohai Bay was guarded by the Denglai navy—but did the Denglai navy have the ability to bombard Zhenjiang City? Did it have the ability to defeat the red-haired barbarians?

Ye Xianggao had after all served as Chief Grand Secretary. From experience alone he could judge that if the Nan'ao navy rebelled, the imperial navy would be utterly unable to resist in the short term, and the damage to the court would be incalculable.

Ma Chenglie himself would instantly transform from a pillar of southeastern maritime defense into the court's most dangerous threat.

For the sake of a few vague and insubstantial signs of rebellion—was it worth it?

Soon, the two reached the vicinity of Qianjiang Bay wharf, but were stopped by someone.

"A typhoon is coming soon. The wharf is closed. Please turn back, both of you." A minor official blocked the way.

"Nonsense!" Huang Kezuan pointed at the sky. "The weather is clear and bright today—where is any sign of a typhoon?"

The official smiled apologetically: "A cloudless sky is precisely the precursor to a typhoon. According to word from the wharf, the swells have already reached nearly one zhang. We estimate the typhoon will arrive by night. Please, both of you, turn back."

The official then studied the two men for a moment and said: "You two aren't island residents, are you? If you have nowhere to go, you may take shelter at the storm refuge."

Huang Ke wanted to argue further but was stopped. Ye Xianggao signaled with his eyes for him to look to the left.

Huang Ke looked over and saw a squad of soldiers in cotton armor approaching. Several officials walked before them, with a young man at the very front, pointing into the distance and issuing orders while the officials around him nodded and took notes.

The minor official said happily: "That's the Helmsman."

"Helmsman?" Ye Xianggao was baffled. What kind of rough-and-tumble title was this? What did any of this have to do with anything?

The official said: "The Helmsman is the island's roving general—just recently appointed. Please, both of you, turn back now. If the Helmsman sees you, he'll say I haven't done my job properly."

Hearing this, the two had no choice but to turn back toward the city.

Before leaving, Ye Xianggao studied the "Helmsman" carefully.

The man was of medium build, dressed in plain clothing—unremarkable at first glance. But looking closely, his phoenix eyes were extraordinarily sharp, and his every gesture was brisk and commanding, radiating presence.

Ye Xianggao watched him for a long while. As if sensing something, the Helmsman turned his head and looked back at Ye Xianggao. After their eyes met for a moment, he looked away.

Ye Xianggao's heart stirred. He and Huang Ke left the place.

"Jinqing, why are you so unsettled?" Huang Kezuan asked.

Ye Xianggao shook his head and said nothing.

Huang Kezuan did not press further, and said to his servant: "Find us an inn."

"No." Ye Xianggao stopped him. "Let's go stay at the storm refuge."

Ye An frowned and tried to dissuade him: "Master, the storm refuge is where poor common folk stay."

"Aren't we common folk now too?" Ye Xianggao was somewhat displeased.

Huang Kezuan understood Ye Xianggao's intent—he wanted to use the stay at the storm refuge to conduct further observation—and said: "Very well, let's go to the storm refuge."

Fujian and Guangdong saw many typhoons.

When a typhoon struck, brick-and-stone houses would not be blown down—one only needed to reinforce the roof tiles.

Thatched houses, however, were far too dangerous, and the common folk who lived in them would go to the storm refuge.

Depending on each locality's financial means, in some places the storm refuge was a cave, while in others it was a single large hall.

Guided by the minor official, the two arrived at the island's storm refuge and both looked up in surprise.

It turned out to be a Mazu temple, with several large cauldrons already set up in the courtyard cooking porridge.

The two and their servants were led inside by the official, and at the entrance to the main hall received bedding, cups, towels, and bowls with chopsticks.

The servants laid out bedding for their masters, then went to fetch porridge.

Moments later, a large bowl of piping-hot thick porridge was set before Ye Xianggao—and sprinkled on top were even some pickled vegetables.

Ye Xianggao took a taste. It was all fine rice—not old grain or stale stores, and no sand mixed in.

The treatment at this storm shelter was even better than what one would find in the capital.

The island's prosperity impressed him deeply once again.

From this, Ye Xianggao further strengthened his judgment—the person governing this island was undoubtedly a rare talent, at the very least worthy of being called a scholar-general.

Shortly after finishing the porridge, the howling gale suddenly erupted in the courtyard, followed by raindrops pelting down with a clatter—in an instant, the gentle breeze outside transformed into something terrifying.

Inside the storm shelter, warm yellow oil lamps were lit all around, which was rather reassuring to behold. People trickled in one after another, and soon all the berths were filled, after which no one else entered.

With wind and rain clamoring outside and voices loud within, there was no worry of being overheard in conversation.

Huang Ke then said: "I feel that the helmsman, Battalion Commander He, and the Mobile Corps Commander might all be the same person—that young man from just now."

Ye Xianggao frowned in thought and did not respond.

In truth, he had already formed such a suspicion back when he first locked eyes with the helmsman.

The fact that the islanders spoke of the Battalion Commander, the General, and the helmsman with equal reverence was also corroborating evidence.

Moreover, Ye Xianggao had seen even deeper—it seemed that Commander Ma had been completely sidelined by the helmsman, and it was entirely possible that even that Squire Hu from Chenghai County belonged to the helmsman's faction.

Even the helmsman's identity, Ye Xianggao vaguely suspected—judging from the name, he was likely of the sea bandit sort.

Under this hypothesis, the abruptly appearing great city, the villagers' tight-lipped silence when asked about their identities, and the Nan'ao naval forces' conduct differing from that of regular troops—all of it could be explained logically and smoothly.

But so what?

Was he, Ye Xianggao, a pedantic Confucian scholar?

Back when he served as Chief Grand Secretary, he was known for understanding the bigger picture and adapting to circumstances—he personally disliked the pure-talk moralists who clung to empty principles and rigid moral reputations.

This was also why, though he held goodwill toward the Donglin Faction, he could not truly be counted as one of them.

With the Great Ming aflame with conflict on all sides and the nation in crisis, official appointments should be based on whether one could solve problems.

A coastal defense general who was versed in both letters and arms, governed well, and fought victoriously—that was exactly what the Great Ming needed, worth more than a hundred loyal-but-useless fools who always lost battles.

As long as this man was currently loyal to the court and willing to exert himself for the Great Ming, what did a stain on his background matter?

Moreover, the Great Ming had long-standing precedent for pacifying and recruiting mountain bandits and sea bandits.

This helmsman's group had even spared the court the trouble of the recruitment process—they voluntarily joined the official army, starting from the grassroots rank of Battalion Commander, without contention or grasping, and accumulated merit to rise to Mobile Corps Commander.

Such conduct was immeasurably better than those so-called proper generals who padded their payrolls and bled their soldiers dry.

Furthermore, the Great Ming's treasury was empty, and the court had long since tacitly permitted regional commanders a degree of military autonomy and self-raised provisions—household troops were one such example, and now camp soldiers were gradually trending the same way.

Li Chengliang of Liaodong kept five Battalion Commander troops and the court tolerated it; the Nan'ao island's able-bodied men totaled less than five thousand and were all out at sea—what was there not to tolerate?

It came back to the same point: with the nation in crisis, having one more coastal defense general was better than having one more enemy.

Even if this man truly rebelled in the future, at least he could help the Great Ming hold on until then, no?

If he were pushed into rebellion now, chaos would erupt again in the southeast, the grain transport would be severed, and the Great Ming might not last even ten years.

Moreover, Ye Xianggao had confidence that once the powerful eunuchs were overthrown and the Grand Secretaries could gain audience with the Son of Heaven, the Son of Heaven would rouse himself with vigor, win over subordinates with favor and grace, and this man would find it difficult to harbor rebellious intentions thereafter.

With this in mind, Ye Xianggao brushed off all of Huang Ke's speculations with perfunctory responses—indeed, whenever Huang Ke was close to hitting the mark, he would deliberately steer the conversation astray.

After all, what he, Ye Xianggao, could reason through, Huang Ke might not necessarily grasp.

If this brother Shaofu's stubborn temper flared up and he insisted on submitting a memorial of impeachment, given the current state of the court, it would nine times out of ten ruin things.

One man racked his brains, the other coaxed and cajoled—and so they endured through the night.

The next day after breakfast, around noon, the wind outside gradually diminished, and by just before midday it had stopped entirely.

A clerk entered: "The gale has passed. You may all go outside now."

Ye and Huang ordered their servants to fold the bedding, gather the bowls and chopsticks, return them to the clerk, and personally stepped forward to bow in thanks.

The clerk, flattered by the gesture, returned the bow with clasped hands: "You two venerable sirs are too kind—this is all simply my duty. Please take care on your way."

The two men exited the storm shelter to find the streets in complete disarray, strewn with thatch, roof tiles, and tree branches, with many common folk already out clearing the mess.

Such a scene of dishevelment was the norm after a typhoon passed through; the two men had lived in Fujian all their lives and were long accustomed to it.

What surprised them was that, walking through the streets, they heard not a single sound of weeping—could it be that after such a fierce gale last night, the island had suffered no dead or wounded?

Were the buildings truly that sturdy?

Ye Xianggao was quite intrigued and wanted to ask.

Huang Ke was already pulling him along to leave: "Ma Chenglie harbors the ambition of a wolf—this place is not fit for a long stay. Let us hurry back."

"Very well."

For now, Brother Shaofu merely suspected Ma Chenglie of rebellious intent and had not yet seen through the identity of "General He."

Ye Xianggao might as well accompany him in leaving the island early, to avoid complications arising from a prolonged stay.

Once back on shore, he could persuade him with reason and sentiment.

Without further words, the two men, followed by their servants, walked to the Houjiang Bay pier where they had come ashore.

They found their own single-mast small boat, and were just about to board when both of them froze in place.

There, not far from their small boat, a three-masted giant vessel lay at anchor.

The ship was extraordinarily massive—the masts alone stood thirteen or fourteen zhang tall, and the bulwarks rose as high as city walls, making the sailors moving about it look like ants in comparison.

Along both sides of the ship, square gunports were visible, arranged in two rows, upper and lower, densely packed—a sight that struck fear into the heart.

From where the two men stood, they could take in both their small boat and the giant vessel at once—the contrast in scale was extreme, like a mirage, carrying an air of unreality.

Even Huang Ke, who had served as Minister of the Ministry of War, was dumbstruck at the sight.

This must be the great cannon ship that had bombarded Zhenjiang, the one the sticky-rice-cake stall owner had spoken of.

Ye Xianggao murmured: "Brother Shaofu, how does this ship compare to the Great Ming's warships?"

In sheer size, this vessel was nearly fifty percent larger than a first-class Fujian junk; with its thick, stout hull, towering bulwarks, and double gun decks, calculated by tonnage, it was nearly twice a first-class Fujian junk.

Huang Ke's mouth hung slightly open, and only after a long while did he speak: "Ma Chenglie actually possesses such a giant vessel? His wolfish ambition is plain to see, plain to see! Jinqing, let's go—write a letter to inform the court. This matter admits no delay."

"Brother Shaofu, do not be hasty," Ye Xianggao urged.

But it was no use—Huang Ke was already striding quickly toward the gangplank.

"Boatman, please take us back."

The boatman gave an apologetic smile: "I'm afraid this humble one cannot carry you two honored guests back. Please board the galleon instead—the helmsman has invited you."

"What do you mean?" Huang Kezuan felt a start of alarm.

The boatman pointed at the great ship moored nearby: "That ship there—the helmsman has been waiting for some time."

Ye Xianggao narrowed his eyes: "Are you the helmsman's man?"

The boatman hastily waved his hands: "No, no—this humble one is truly just a ferryman. It was this morning that the helmsman sent someone to give instructions."

"Jinqing, don't waste more words with this boatman. They are but traitors and rebels—let us go see them. What is there to fear?" Huang Kezuan spoke with righteous indignation.

Ye Xianggao felt a headache coming on, but with no other way out at present, he could only follow him toward the galleon, all the while racking his mind for a way to respond.

Only upon reaching the galleon did they truly appreciate its towering height—even the gangway was steep.

Both men were past sixty; without someone to assist them, climbing aboard would have been no easy task.

On the deck, a man was already waiting with a beaming smile—none other than the "helmsman" they had seen yesterday.

Lin Qian clasped his hands in greeting to Ye and Huang, invited them to the officers' mess to talk, and ordered the crew to set sail.

He said cordially: "Do not worry, two venerable sirs. I am merely giving you a ride for part of the way—I have no other intentions.

Your small boat will follow behind. When we reach shore at Chenghai County, you may transfer back. Of course, if you wish to go elsewhere, you have only to say so."

Huang Kezuan gave a cold snort: "Stop playing tricks. Who exactly are you? State your name."

"My original name was Lin Qian. I was once a sea bandit, but I have since abandoned darkness for light and now serve under Regional Commander Ma. I changed my name to He Ping and was ennobled by imperial decree as the Roaming General of Nan'ao."

If one said Lin Qian was not forthcoming—well, he had truthfully revealed his original identity.

If one said his identity was false—he bore His Majesty's imperial decree of ennoblement.

In the two hundred-plus years since the founding of the Great Ming, countless mountain bandits and sea bandits had been pacified and recruited.

But one who joined the imperial forces by assuming a false name without going through the pacification process—that was unique.

Legally speaking, even if Lin Qian's previous identity had been false, with His Majesty's imperial decree of ennoblement, his status could not be more genuine.

Huang Ke was momentarily struck speechless.

Beside him, Ye Xianggao reacted quickly and introduced them: "This old man is Ye Xianggao of Fuqing, and this is Zhongmei Gong."

Zhongmei was Huang Ke's courtesy name; by literati convention, one could not address another by his given name when making introductions.

Huang Ke then introduced himself by his full name.

"So it is Grand Secretary Ye and Minister Huang—my apologies for not recognizing you." Lin Qian bowed. "Please, take the seats of honor."

Ye Xianggao said with a smile: "After you."

He rather appreciated the young man's composed, neither humble nor overbearing demeanor, and pulled Huang Kezuan to sit down.

For these men to interact in their official Ming capacities was far better than meeting on the field of battle, fighting to the death.

He chatted idly with Lin Qian while speculating on the purpose behind Lin Qian's invitation for the two of them to board the ship.

Presumably it was to sound them out, to ensure that Ye and Huang would not leak his identity.

If that were truly the case, then this move was quite the superfluous gesture.

He, Ye Xianggao, had never intended to make much of an issue over Lin Qian's identity anyway.

And Huang Kezuan was a man who yielded to soft words but not to force—if reasoned with sincerely, coaxed and cajoled, he would probably not submit a memorial.

But pulling this sort of forcible abduction onto a ship, then pressing him with words—there was no telling what Huang Ke might do.

One had to remember that this was a man who did not even fear Wei Zhongxian.

With this in mind, Ye Xianggao deliberately steered the conversation toward refined topics—now praising the decor of Lin Qian's ship, now discussing the perils of passing typhoons.

After several rounds of this, Lin Qian began to catch on.

The moment Ye Xianggao and Huang Ke had set foot on the pier of Nan'ao Island, Lin Qian's men had marked them.

From their appearance and dress to their speech and bearing, the two exuded scholarly refinement without the least hint of poverty.

And though they claimed to have come ashore for trade, they carried no goods—instead they wandered about, inquiring into the identities of the islanders.

By questioning the boatman, Lin Qian learned the two had come from Fuqing and Quanzhou. Combined with the records in the *Register of Officials* and the Capital Gazette of recent months, Lin Qian had guessed their identities with near certainty.

These two—one a former Chief Grand Secretary, one a former Minister—had both recently returned to their hometowns, yet still wielded considerable influence over the court.

Though Lin Qian no longer feared war with the Great Ming, he was not fully prepared, and General He's identity was best worn for a few more years.

Thus he had arranged this meeting, intending to display his strength so that the two would think twice before writing to the court with loose talk.

But both men held high rank and power, and possessed unyielding characters.

How to calibrate the display of force—enough to make both men understand the might of the Nan'ao naval forces, yet not make them feel Lin Qian was threatening with arms,

or leveraging his army to assert himself—that was the crux.

While Lin Qian was still hesitating, he noticed Ye Xianggao repeatedly steering toward pleasantries, and sensing the intent, he matched the tone, chatting about his seafaring experiences.

Seeing Lin Qian play along, Ye Xianggao thought to himself: "Mere small talk will not dispel Shaofu's suspicions. I must make him understand the importance of the Nan'ao naval forces. I only hope this young man doesn't get clever when I ask my next questions."

So Ye Xianggao changed tack and said: "General He, at the time of the great victory at Macao, were you present?"

"I was." Lin Qian, not yet understanding what Ye Xianggao was driving at, decided it was best to say little.

Ye Xianggao revealed a barely perceptible smile: "This old man has heard that the red-haired barbarians have sturdy ships and formidable cannons—is that true?"

"Indeed it is. That day the red barbarians had twelve warships, with nearly three hundred cannons between them. The Macao barbarians' fleet was utterly annihilated in a single exchange." Lin Qian stopped there.

Ye Xianggao thought: "Not a word missing of what should be said, not half a word of what shouldn't. This young man is indeed rather clever."

Then Ye Xianggao sighed and said: "Since the red barbarian fleet was so powerful, how did the general manage to defeat them?"

"I took advantage of darkness and used fire ships. That day, a northeast wind blew over Lingding Bay. My fleet was upwind, and the enemy fleet had dropped anchor for the night——"

Lin Qian now understood what Ye Xianggao was getting at. Though he did not know why the old man was helping him, when faced with such goodwill, how could he refuse to accept it?

He then recounted the Battle of Macao in full, with appropriate detail and brevity.

Naturally, the detail was given to how the red-haired barbarians harbored wolfish ambitions, how sturdy their ships and formidable their cannons were—and how the Nan'ao naval forces had launched their night raid with fire ships, catching the enemy completely off guard.

What he omitted was the formidable firepower of Lin Qian's ships and cannons—how the *Batavia* had been blasted into a hornet's nest, and how troops were stationed in Macao.

At the end, Lin Qian added a denunciation of the Dutch crimes, detailing in particular how the Dutch had plundered and enslaved Ming laborers!

They colluded with the wokou pirates, sending men to raid in Qiongzhou Prefecture, intending to imitate the Macao barbarians by seizing a port and opening frontier trade with the Great Ming.

Huang Kezuan slammed the table in anger: "These red-haired barbarians have the nature of dogs and sheep—cruel and cunning, plundering our maritime borders. Utterly detestable!"

Then he said to Lin Qian: "In a single battle, the General broke their fierce edge; the red barbarian vermin are terrified, and the South China Sea is pacified. One engagement secures ten years of peace—a deed of supreme merit!"

The words were kind, yet they carried a faint undertone of probing.

Before Lin Qian could react, Ye Xianggao spoke up: "In my view, having suffered such a heavy blow, the red barbarians will surely not dare to come again for thirty years."

Lin Qian understood the implication and immediately said with a solemn expression: "Grand Secretary and Minister, you flatter me. Your subordinate dare not claim the credit. To be frank, the red barbarians' headquarters lies in the Southern Ocean, at a place called Batavia. They possess a thousand ships, stretching east to the Spice Islands and west to Goa in India—their maritime domain spans nearly ten thousand li.

The loss of these twelve warships is but a flesh wound; it has not yet shaken their vital strength.

Moreover, their country is small and their people poor, all born with greedy natures. The entire nation takes pride in going to sea to chase profit, and because they trade with our Great Ming, their gains are considerable. Driven by heavy profit, I fear their thieving hearts are not yet dead—sooner or later they will return."

In plain terms, the red barbarians' retreat was only temporary. To burn the bridge now would be premature.

This was not him keeping bandits alive to inflate his own importance—after all, Lin Qian's duty was to defend the territory, not to launch campaigns.

If anyone wished to impeach Lin Qian, they would first have to weigh the consequences: without the Nan'ao naval force, what would the court use to resist the red barbarians?

The other naval stockades of Guangdong? If they could be relied upon, where were they during the Battle of Macao last time?

After these words, Huang Ke also fell into deep thought.

He was upright, not foolish. If the southeast had no formidable enemy, the court could naturally do whatever it wished with the Nan'ao naval force.

But at present, the red barbarians still eyed the Great Ming's maritime borders with predatory intent.

Even knowing full well that keeping the Nan'ao naval force was like raising a tiger to bring disaster, for the sake of the greater situation, they had no choice but to drink poison to quench their thirst.

Huang Kezuan sighed and said: "General He was originally a Battalion Commander, and was promoted to Mobile Corps Commander after the Battle of Macao, was he not?"

"Exactly so."

"Two ranks in succession, both with real authority—the court's rewards could not be more generous. I earnestly hope the General will not betray the emperor's grace."

"Yes." Lin Qian replied respectfully.

Ye Xianggao understood that since Huang Kezuan spoke in this manner, he would no longer impeach Lin Qian, and immediately felt relieved.

As they conversed, the galleon drew near Chenghai County.

Lin Qian suddenly said: "Your subordinate has a request I hope the Grand Secretary and Minister will grant."

Ye Xianggao's just-settled heart rose again. He thought to himself: "What trick is this lad up to now? Don't say something careless and ruin the hard-won stability."

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen