Chapter 168: Let Us Bleed the Jianzhou Barbarians!

The plot to subvert Liu Xingzuo was a top-secret matter among the high command of Liaodong. To ensure absolute security, it was even reported directly to the emperor by secret memorial, bypassing the Grand Secretariat and the Directorate of Ceremonial.

For General He to have learned of it, there could be only one reason: the matter had already leaked.

That being so, it made sense that General He insisted on meeting Supreme Commander Sun in person to report the matter.

Mao Wenlong took another look at Lin Qian's personal guards, his cannon ships, and the anxious-faced commoners around him. Realizing that even if he wanted to stop them he could not, he simply handed Sun Chengzong's letter to Lin Qian and let them go.

Before Lin Qian boarded his ship, Mao Wenlong specially brought out a silver chest containing over two hundred taels, and asked Lin Qian to accept it.

This silver could not repay his false claim of merit, but at least it was a gesture of goodwill.

Lin Qian accepted it without saying much — everything was understood without words.

After setting sail, Lin Qian asked Bailangzai: "Have you finished scouting out the situation on Pidao?"

His purpose in personally setting foot on the island was to draw away Mao Wenlong's troops, allowing Bailangzai's men to thoroughly investigate the island's conditions. The people of Pidao trusted Lin Qian's men greatly, so gathering intelligence was very easy.

Bailangzai pulled out a notebook, flipped open a page, and read: "Pidao's naval fleet has thirty warships, over ten thousand houses, and a population of roughly fifty to eighty thousand."

Lin Qian frowned slightly: "Where does Pidao's grain come from?"

Bailangzai said: "Allocated by the court, purchased by Joseon, and then there's smuggling."

Lin Qian thought to himself, just as he suspected. Pidao was smaller than Nan'ao Island, yet its population was seven or eight times greater. With so many mouths to feed, farming could never make them self-sufficient.

Even relying on the court's financial resources, providing relief would be a stretch.

If Mao Wenlong wanted to feed so many people, he had to resort to extraordinary means.

And thanks to Pidao's geographical position, the smuggling targets were without question the Jianzhou barbarians and Joseon. In this way, the Great Ming's economic blockade against the Jianzhou barbarians was broken.

Added to this, Mao Wenlong also had his own private motives — he wanted to cultivate a personal power base free from court restraint.

All these complex factors combined to create Pidao's current situation. Rights and wrongs, straight and crooked — truly hard to judge one by one.

For Lin Qian, knowing that Pidao was by no means a good place to settle the people of southern Liaodong was enough.

With the Tianyuan's firepower, coordinated with a small-scale land force, taking southern Liaodong was not the problem. The problem was how to transport the people away and resettle them without them being slaughtered.

To evacuate the tens of thousands of people from southern Liaodong, the cooperation of the Denglai naval fleet was essential.

This was the reason Lin Qian needed to inspect Pidao and meet Sun Chengzong in person.

From Pidao to Shanhai Pass, one had to sail southwest, rounding Jin Prefecture in southern Liaodong. To avoid the cannon ships being spotted by sentry cavalry along the coast, they had to stay far from the shoreline — which brought them very close to Denglai.

Thinking of this, Lin Qian said: "Order: two Eagle ships detach from the fleet and go probe the strength of the Denglai naval forces."

A day later, on the sea north of the Dengzhou naval stockade, two strange ships like sailfish appeared.

The naval officers and men initially paid them no mind, but the two ships sailed extremely close to the stockade, seemingly with intent to reconnoiter and provoke.

So much so that the naval Company Commander ordered a Haicang ship sent out to drive them off.

They thought it would be a routine task, but who would have expected the two strange ships to spread their triangular lateen sails and race off at tremendous speed — the Haicang ship could not even catch their wake.

The Company Commander was greatly alarmed and sent out five Bird ships, famed for their agility, to pursue — only to have them led around in circles on the sea.

At this point the Company Commander could no longer sit still, and reported the matter up the chain of command.

A stick of incense later, the Denglai Regional Commander, the old general Shen Yourong, ascended the stockade wall with a grave expression.

"Where are the ships?" Shen Yourong asked in a deep voice.

A soldier pointed to the northwest sea: "Commander, please look."

Shen Yourong followed his finger and saw, on the sea over a thousand paces away, a slender strange ship with sails spread, riding the waves, sailing swiftly on a broad reach.

Three to four hundred paces behind it, eight Denglai warships pursued in a net-like formation.

That slender strange ship would go, then stop, as if deliberately waiting for the warships — and when the distance closed, it would hoist sail and speed away to evade.

Its escape route was almost entirely a straight line, making the "great net" of the pursuing fleet behind it a joke.

Closer by, another slender strange ship had sailed to within two hundred paces of the stockade, hovering right by the stockade gate.

Two ships — one drawing away the pursuing fleet, one closing in to reconnoiter — coordinating with perfect tacit understanding.

Moreover, their positioning was exquisitely precise, never once sailing within range of the firearms, leaving the naval forces with strength they could not use, forced to chase in circles like donkeys turning a millstone.

Shen Yourong had once served as Assistant Regional Commander in Fuzhou, and recognized that these two ships had something of the barbarian vessels about them, yet were not quite the same — their performance was far superior to the barbarian ships.

The Great Ming navy was already somewhat outmatched against the barbarians' multi-decked ships, and these two slender strange ships were even more beyond what Ming warships could hope to catch.

Fortunately, Shen Yourong noticed that these two ships were small in size and carried no firearms aboard — they should only be for reconnaissance purposes.

That strange ship hovering near the stockade gate was likely trying to peer inside the stockade whenever the gate opened.

That being the case, Shen Yourong simply ordered the gate tightly shut and commanded the warships that had already left the stockade to turn back.

Before long, seeing that they could gather no intelligence, the two strange ships converged and sailed off toward the northwest sea, soon disappearing over the horizon.

Shen Yourong ordered warships to search the waters around the stockade, and only after confirming safety did he open the gate and bring the troops back in.

The encounter had been frightening but harmless, yet Shen Yourong still felt deeply uneasy. The performance of those two ships had left too deep an impression on him — if such ships were in the hands of the Jianzhou barbarians, then their maritime trade could never again be intercepted.

Thinking of the consequences, Shen Yourong immediately sent an official dispatch reporting to the Governor and Supreme Commander Sun.

A few days later, Yuan Chonghuan received an order from Sun Chengzong, commanding him to hasten to Shanhai Pass.

In recent days, skirmishes between sentry cavalry around Guangning had been unceasing, with wounded Ming sentry riders being carried in from the front lines every day — the situation growing ever more tense.

At such an extraordinary time, for Supreme Commander Sun to summon him away from the front lines, it must be a matter of the utmost importance.

Yuan Chonghuan dared not delay. He obtained a fast horse from his subordinates and, without even changing out of his official robes, rushed toward Shanhai Pass.

He rode for a full day and night, arriving beneath the mighty Shanhai Pass before dawn the next day.

The soldiers guarding the pass carefully inspected the waist tokens of Yuan Chonghuan and his accompanying personal guards before letting them through.

At this time the morning sun was just rising, and the calls of bugles rousing soldiers from their beds rose and fell throughout the camp, while from the stables came the neighing of horses.

Along the streets, soldiers stood guard every ten paces, and lantern-bearing patrols made their rounds everywhere.

At the southern city gate, merchant caravans were already streaming into the city. In the streets, vendors were setting up their stalls — steam rising from steaming baskets, the fresh sweetness of soy milk, the fragrance of steamed buns,

the stench of horse dung and the smell of soldiers' sweat all mingled together, blending in the warm spring breeze into a scent unique to Shanhai Pass.

Along the way, Yuan Chonghuan had drunk only plain water and had not eaten a single grain of food.

With matters of state pressing, he set aside his hunger and walked straight toward the Supreme Commander's yamen.

Entering the main hall, he saw that many generals had already gathered—Ma Shilong, Lu Shanji, Sun Yuanhua, and others were all present, with Supreme Commander Sun Chengzong seated at the head.

Yuan Chonghuan stepped forward to pay his respects. Sun Chengzong, looking deeply worried, waved for him to stand to one side.

Only then did Yuan Chonghuan notice that Old General Shen, the Regional Commander of Dengzhou, was also in the hall, seated just below Sun Chengzong.

There was also Zu Dashou, who had been ordered to defend Juehua Island—he too was in the hall.

One could say that nearly all the key figures in the three-way strategic deployment were present, with the sole exception of Mao Wenlong on Pidao.

Whatever was being discussed was surely a matter that would decide the fate of Liaodong.

At this moment, worry was written on every face in the hall, and the atmosphere was stifling.

Yuan Chonghuan was full of curiosity but knew better than to speak out of turn, so he stood quietly to one side and waited.

After a moment, Sun Chengzong spoke: "We received secret intelligence from the Jianzhou barbarians a few days ago. The rebel chieftain Nurhaci has ordered his men to muster troops, preparing to invade western Liaoning once more. I have summoned you all today to discuss our response."

Yuan Chonghuan's heart jolted. For days now, Jianzhou cavalry had been coming and going ceaselessly around Guangning—so a major move was indeed coming. The construction of Ningyuan city had only just begun; if the Jianzhou barbarians attacked now, with no natural defenses to rely on, all their efforts would come to naught.

Someone said: "Supreme Commander, this—is this intelligence reliable?"

"Indeed, Supreme Commander. I've heard that over the past few months, the Jianzhou barbarians have been harried from the rear by Commander Mao, leaving them frazzled. The Eight Banners have been busy putting down rebellions on all sides and lack the strength to dispatch more troops."

Yuan Chonghuan had a vague idea of where the intelligence came from—it must have been passed by Liu Xingzuo, a man deeply trusted by Nurhaci and entrusted with the defense of the four prefectures of Haizhou, Gaizhou,

Fuzhou, and Jin Prefecture. Unable to stomach Nurhaci's massacres of Han Chinese, he harbored thoughts of abandoning darkness for light and had been transmitting intelligence.

Sure enough, Sun Chengzong continued: "According to the intelligence, since the Battle of Zhenjiang, the Jianzhou high command has become deeply wary of cannons and strong walls. There are rumors that the Jianzhou leader Amin died under cannon fire."

At these words, the faces of all the generals in the hall changed. After all, everyone present had heard of the Four Great Beiles—any one of them was trouble enough for the Great Ming. Who could have imagined that one of them had died so inexplicably?

One should know that in ordinary battles with the Jianzhou barbarians, even cutting down a White Armor Banner captain in the field was extremely rare. To have killed Amin would be a monumental achievement—a tremendous morale boost for the Ming army. No wonder the Jianzhou barbarians had sealed off the news.

The generals, stationed in Liaodong, all had their own channels of information, more or less. Cross-checking what they knew, it was true that they hadn't heard news of Amin in a long time. They had no choice but to lend some credence to Sun Chengzong's "secret intelligence."

If that was so, then the Jianzhou barbarians truly were preparing to strike western Liaoning again—and that was a thorny problem.

Staff Advisor Lu Shanji clasped his hands and said: "Supreme Commander, the Jianzhou barbarians are formidable in open battle. The new city beyond the pass has not yet risen, leaving us no defensible position. Under the circumstances, our only option is to fall back and hold Shanhai Pass, waiting for them to withdraw."

Qiantun garrison commander Zhao Shuaijiao said with displeasure: "Fall back, fall back! Every time the Tartars come, we fall back! At this rate, why bother building Ningyuan city at all—might as well just all dig in and defend Shanhai Pass to the death!"

Lu Shanji sneered: "When Liaoyang fell, if you hadn't fallen back, General, would you still be standing here today to speak?"

Zhao Shuaijiao had originally been a Vice Regional Commander under Yuan Yingtai, the Military Commissioner of Liaodong. When Liaoyang city fell, he fought with all his might but could not prevail, and only managed to escape the city by luck—that was how he survived.

Zhao Shuaijiao regarded this matter as the greatest shame of his life. Now that someone was using it to mock him, how could he contain himself? He grabbed Lu Shanji by the collar, ready to throw a punch.

Though Lu Shanji was a staff advisor and strategist, he had once served as a Bureau Secretary in the Ministry of War and had a fairly stiff backbone. Facing Zhao Shuaijiao's threat, he showed no fear whatsoever, instead continuing his cold mockery.

Sun Chengzong slammed the table: "How dare you!"

Zhao Shuaijiao gave a cold snort and let go.

Lu Shanji straightened his robes and cap, then clasped his hands again: "Supreme Commander, the people of Pidao have a saying: 'Keep the people and lose the land—both people and land are preserved; keep the land and lose the people—both people and land are lost!' Rather than fight the Jianzhou barbarians in open battle to defend the new city of Ningyuan, it would be better to preserve our soldiers, withdraw to Shanhai Pass, and plan slowly for the future."

Hearing this, the assembled generals felt that this "folk saying" had much in common with the Art of War's principle of "keeping the army intact is best, destroying the enemy's army is secondary"—and was in fact stated even more cleverly and plainly.

Could such a philosophical maxim really be a folk saying? Could a mud-footed peasant come up with words like that?

Most of the generals in the hall had originally supported Zhao Shuaijiao's view, but hearing these words, they too found them reasonable, and their positions began to waver.

Seeing this, Sun Chengzong said: "Secretary Yuan, what do you think?"

Yuan Chonghuan, called by name, stepped forward and clasped his hands: "Supreme Commander, generals—the Guan-Ning defense line, stretching over two hundred li in depth, once completed, will trap the Jianzhou barbarians to death in Liaodong.

If we abandon Ningyuan, and Shanhai Pass should fall, then there will be no strategic stronghold left in the world to resist the Jianzhou barbarians. Once their power swells, no matter how many troops we have, it will be difficult to recover lost territory. Therefore, your subordinate advocates fighting!"

A single stone stirred a thousand waves—some officials and generals in the hall cheered Yuan Chonghuan on, while others angrily denounced him for not knowing his place.

The hall descended into chaos for a moment, until a personal guard ran in from outside and whispered something into Sun Chengzong's ear. Sun Chengzong's face remained expressionless as he said in a low voice: "Have him wait outside the hall."

Yuan Chonghuan remained perfectly composed. Only when the crowd in the hall had largely finished speaking did he continue: "However, fighting does not mean fighting to the death. The world knows the Jianzhou barbarians excel at horsemanship and archery; fighting them on flat ground would be like smashing eggs against stones.

Your subordinate believes we should dig trenches, form wagon-forts, rely on terrain, and use cannons.

Using the walls of Ningyuan as our foundation, we mount cannons on top, arrange wagon formations on the outer perimeter, dig trenches and set up palisades beyond that, and station cavalry and naval forces further out for support."

The generals in the hall nodded to themselves—this plan, at least on the surface, had some measure of feasibility.

Sun Chengzong asked: "How goes the purchase and casting of cannons?"

Sun Yuanhua stepped forward: "The Macao barbarians are far away, and the merchant sent to purchase cannons has not yet returned. However, your subordinate has already cast twenty light Folangji cannons from iron,

and ten heavy Folangji cannons. Following my teacher's instruction, I have also produced one imitation red barbarian cannon."

This man was a student of Xu Guangqi and had studied Western learning deeply, but he had failed to pass the jinshi examination and thus could not become an official.

When Sun Chengzong took command of Liaodong and learned of this man's talents, he brought him to Liaodong to take charge of firearms and fortress construction.

At first hearing, thirty-odd cannons did not seem few. But how effective Folangji cannons were against cavalry, all the generals knew well. If these things actually worked well, then from Sarhu to the battles of Liaoshen and the bloody fight at Ling River, they would not have suffered total defeat after defeat.

Immediately, gloom settled over the hall once more.

Yuan Chonghuan tried several times to speak but lacked the courage. With only twenty or thirty Folangji cannons to defend Ningyuan, which was currently little more than a mound of earth, he truly did not have much confidence.

After a moment of silence, Shen Yourong spoke: "Supreme Commander, why not follow Mao Wenlong's example and send the Denglai naval forces to conduct Mobile Corps Commander raids at sea, harassing the Jianzhou barbarians' rear?"

A general said dismissively: "The navy is only good for transporting weapons and grain. The moment they set foot on shore, they'd probably be scattered by the enemy's scout cavalry."

Another said: "The Great Ming's navy has not seen battle in a long time and knows nothing of the Jianzhou barbarians' ferocity. To send them off on raids rashly would most likely mean heavy losses. We should be cautious."

Yet another said: "Even if the raids succeed, so what? Doesn't Commander Mao report his merits every few days? Do you see the Tartars paying him any mind?"

These words were not deliberately aimed at Shen Yourong—it was simply that Mao Wenlong's performance had been poor. Day in and day out he reported battle merits, yet not a single Jianzhou head was ever produced, to the point that the entire army had come to look down on the navy's capabilities.

Shen Yourong was so angry his brows shot up. He declared in a clear voice: "In years past, I personally led the fleet, braving fierce typhoons and mountainous waves to cross the sea and annihilate Japanese pirates. Though I am no longer in the prime of my strength, I have not lost my heart to serve the nation.

My Denglai navy has long basked in imperial favor—our troops are elite, our provisions ample, our training rigorous. Now is precisely the time to render service to the state. I am willing to sign a pledge of guarantee: if I cannot take Jin Prefecture, I will willingly accept military discipline!"

The assembled men had not expected that Shen Yourong, at sixty years of age, would still have such a fiery temperament. For a moment, they all fell into sheepish silence and stopped speaking.

Lu Shanji said: "Regional Commander Shen is brave and resolute. But one should know that attacking is easy while holding is difficult. If Jin Prefecture falls to the Jianzhou barbarians again, another massacre is certain, and southern Liaoning will soon be plunged into misery."

Yuan Chonghuan also said: "Nurhaci is cruel by nature. Whenever Han Chinese show signs of unrest, or he suffers a defeat in battle, he invariably massacres the common people to vent his fury."

Besides the two of them, several other civil officials chimed in as well, all saying words to the effect of showing compassion for the people and not adding to the slaughter.

Shen Yourong's face flushed red with anger, but he also knew that what they said was all correct, and fell silent for a moment.

Just as silence descended once again, a voice suddenly came from outside the main hall: "A hall full of generals and commanders, looking ahead and behind, timid and hesitant—do you intend to rely on the words of the sages to reform the Jianzhou barbarians?"

As he spoke, a young officer in cotton armor walked into the main hall, cupped his fists, and said: "Supreme Commander, this subordinate is He Ping, a Mobile Corps Commander under the Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao."

"Vice Regional Commander of Nan'ao?"

"What are the Fujian-Guangdong marines doing here?"

"How did this man get in?"

The hall immediately buzzed with discussion.

Sun Chengzong glanced at Lin Qian, frowned, and said: "Who let you in? Get out!"

Shen Yourong hastily said: "Supreme Commander, this man speaks reckless words, but presumably he must have some strategy to repel the enemy—perhaps we should let him finish speaking."

Sun Chengzong felt a wave of annoyance, looked at Lin Qian and said: "You have some opinion? Speak it out for us to hear. If you cannot produce anything coherent, I will have you punished for your insolence."

Lin Qian was already prepared. He called out toward the gate of the compound, and soon a squad of personal guards emerged from behind the screen wall, carrying a large wooden tray, which they set down in the center of the main hall. Upon it was a terrain sand table of Liaodong, crafted from sand and rice paste, spanning from Shanhai Pass in the west to Pidao in the east, and reaching Deng Prefecture in the south.

The workmanship was extremely fine—mountains, rivers, and roads of all sizes were included without exception. The coastlines, mountains, towns, and harbors near the shore were the most accurate; the further inland, the more distorted the terrain features became.

Sand tables were not a rarity in the Great Ming. Qi Jiguang had already recorded in detail their construction and usage methods in the *New Treatise on Military Efficiency* and the *Practical Records of Military Training*.

Thus, when the assembled generals saw this sand table, they were not surprised—they simply held their breath and waited for what came next.

Yuan Chonghuan, however, watched the dozen or so of Lin Qian's personal guards who had flooded into the Supreme Commander's residence under the pretext of delivering the sand table, lost in thought.

Lin Qian took a long thin wooden stick from one of his guards and pointed at the position of Jin Prefecture (present-day Dalian): "This place is surrounded by sea on three sides, with deep harbors—a perfect location for naval operations. If this subordinate coordinates with the army, I can capture this city in a single day——"

Hearing these words, disappointment appeared on the faces of all the generals. They had seen Lin Qian's confident bearing and thorough preparations and expected some brilliant discourse—who knew it would be the same old tune as Shen Yourong's.

When words like "capture Jin Prefecture" came from Shen Yourong's mouth, the generals still respected him for his loyal courage.

Coming from the mouth of such a young officer, it was simply not knowing one's place.

Not to mention that Jin Prefecture had strong walls and ample troops, making it difficult to capture. Even if it were captured, the Jianzhou barbarians could at any time march south along the official road to reinforce it—the Ming army could hardly hold their ground, making it utterly meaningless.

This move did nothing to relieve the crisis in western Liaodong, and instead invited the Jianzhou barbarians to slaughter the people of southern Liaodong—truly a terrible move.

Seeing this, Sun Chengzong could not hide his disappointment: "Drag him out."

"Wait." Lin Qian said calmly, "May I ask you all—what do the Jianzhou barbarians lack the most?"

"Cannons." Yuan Chonghuan answered eagerly.

"Artisans?" Sun Yuanhua said uncertainly.

"It should be legitimacy." Lu Shanji was rather pleased with his own answer.

Lin Qian shook his head: "It is population. The purpose of capturing Jin Prefecture in this campaign is not to take cities and forts—it is to evacuate the people of southern Liaodong."

As he spoke, Lin Qian used the wooden stick to draw two lines on the sand table.

His personal guard Geng Wu stepped forward upon seeing this and inserted the wooden carvings that had been prepared in advance at the positions of Deng Prefecture and Shanhai Pass.

The wooden carving was a man dressed in coarse cloth garments, wearing a bamboo hat and carrying a bundle on his shoulder—clearly the likeness of a common folk.

"Evacuate the people of southern Liaodong from the two locations of Jin Prefecture and Changsheng Island (present-day Changxing Island), and resettle them respectively at Deng Prefecture and Shanhai Pass."

"Ha, a fool's dream!" Lu Shanji mocked, "Do you know how many Han commoners there are in southern Liaodong?"

"In the Jin Prefecture area, I estimate no more than ten thousand. In the Fu Prefecture area, I estimate no more than fifty thousand."

At these words, Lu Shanji fell silent, because he too did not know the exact population figures of the two regions.

When the Great Ming ruled Liaodong, Jin Prefecture and Fu Prefecture combined certainly had more than sixty thousand people. But the Jianzhou barbarians were so brutal—massacring on one hand, forcibly relocating on the other—how many commoners remained in the two regions was truly unknown to anyone.

Lin Qian's figures were the maximum estimates based on the number of people rescued from Zhenjiang, the death toll of the historical Fu Prefecture massacre, and reconnaissance by the eagle ships—the actual population of the two regions might be even less than sixty thousand.

Lin Qian continued: "The Pidao fleet has 2 Fujian junks, 10 Haicang ships, and 18 other vessels of various types; the Denglai fleet has 10 Fujian junks, 35 Haicang ships, and 55 other vessels——"

"Hold on!" Shen Yourong stood up, his face shocked and angry, "The number of ships in the fleet under my command—how do you know of it?"

Lin Qian smiled and cupped his fists: "This one must be Old General Shen? This junior, while stationed in Fujian, often heard people speak of the Old General, and the common folk of Quanzhou often recall with gratitude the Old General's kindness in building the Shen Gong Dike."

For an instant, Shen Yourong's expression was extremely complicated—he was in a state of desperately suppressing the corners of his mouth.

For such a distinguished old general, praising his military exploits and far-spread fame might not mean much to him.

But if you praised his few civil governance achievements—that was a different matter.

The Shen Gong Dike was precisely what he had built at Shihu Fort in the thirtieth year of Wanli, designed to prevent seawater from flowing inland and also to defend against wokou pirates.

This was a great deed that benefited the countryside and blessed the common people, and Shen Yourong had always taken pride in it.

Now that it was brought up in front of a hall full of Liaodong colleagues, how could he contain his delight?

Moreover, the Nan'ao fleet's area of operations bordered Shen Yourong's old defense zone, and Lin Qian had also referred to himself as a junior—the connection was instantly drawn close, giving quite a feeling of encountering a fellow townsman.

Seeing the subtle change in Shen Yourong's expression, Lin Qian said apologetically: "The situation was urgent, and this junior did not have time to report beforehand—the fleet was cruising in Deng Prefecture waters and disturbed the Denglai fleet. This junior offers his apologies to the Old General."

Hearing this, Shen Yourong also understood that the two long thin strange ships he had seen earlier belonged to Lin Qian's unit. Feeling quite gratified, he said: "The Fujian-Guangdong marines have worthy successors—no wonder they could repel the invading red barbarians."

Having said this, he sat back down. Today, in front of all the army generals, Shen Yourong could hardly expose the weaknesses of his own navy.

Besides, Lin Qian had admitted his fault sincerely and was a junior besides—what more was there to criticize? His conduct was somewhat unrestrained, but that was merely the arrogance of talent, hardly a major offense.

Lin Qian continued pointing at the sand table: "The combined fleet vessels listed above have a single-trip transport capacity of 5,725 people. From Jin Prefecture to Denglai, and from Changsheng Island to western Liaodong, the average round-trip voyage takes 4 days; the round trip for Fu Prefecture's people to Changsheng Island counts as half a day.

Therefore, if all goes smoothly, evacuating sixty thousand people from southern Liaodong will take at most 50 days!

Gentlemen, let us bleed the Jianzhou barbarians dry!"

Yahei

Fenyuan

Steel pen