Chapter 189: The Bell King Sets Sail

On the fifteenth day of the first month, the sky was slightly dark.

In the General's Mansion on Nan'ao Island, Lin Qian was eating tangyuan.

From outside the house came the crackling sound of "Whoosh—bang!"

Baikou rushed in excitedly and said, "Milord, Milady, come quick, the fireworks have started!"

These sky-rockets were ordinarily used by the fleet for signaling; Lin Qian had long grown tired of them.

Especially the red sky-rockets—the moment he saw one, he felt as if the hawk ships were engaging the enemy, and instinctively wanted to pull out his telescope.

So Lin Qian shook his head and said to Ye Zhen, "You go watch."

Ye Zhen hesitated slightly. In her early days after marriage, she had been so reserved that on a festival like this she would certainly have stayed by Lin Qian's side—if he didn't go, she wouldn't move either. But as time passed together, she had discovered that Lin Qian was even more open-minded than her own grandfather, so she said softly, "Then I'll go and come right back—wait for me, husband." With that, she rose. Yue Yi draped a cloak over her, and Ran Qiu brought over a hand warmer, and the women pushed open the door and went out in high spirits.

Though it was called going out, they only stood in the courtyard to watch; from inside the room, Lin Qian could still hear the women's laughter.

For the people of the Great Ming, the Lantern Festival was a holiday as important as the Spring Festival—even women of official families, bound most heavily by feudal propriety, could take to the streets on this day.

The common folk of Nan'ao Island would also spontaneously organize grand lantern fairs and fireworks displays.

Lin Qian was not particularly interested, but for Ye Zhen and the other women, this was a rare grand occasion, and Lin Qian did not want to dampen their spirits. He was just about to put on his clothes and go out.

Suddenly, a string of footsteps sounded in the courtyard, and the women's laughter came to an abrupt halt.

A moment later, Ye Zhen pushed the door open: "Husband, a letter has arrived, said to be an urgent dispatch from Jiaozhi."

Lin Qian opened the letter and saw it was the timber measurements recorded by the craftsmen under Bai Qing.

When he saw how abundant the reserves in Guangnan were and how well the timber had been air-dried and preserved, he could not help but feel a surge of excitement.

Through the data, those one hundred and ninety-six teak logs materialized before Lin Qian's eyes.

The timber, cut, polished, shaped, and joined, was automatically processed like 3D modeling into keel, ribs, and deck beams—each piece solid and distinct. Especially that piece called "Whale's Spine"—it seemed born to become a keel.

Not building it into a flagship great ship would be a criminal waste of heaven's gifts!

The only piece of bad news was that the Nguyen Lord, knowing not what was good for him, stubbornly refused to hand over the timber.

This was not a big problem.

If negotiations truly failed, Lin Qian could simply buy it with silver.

If the Nguyen Lord remained obstinate, the silver meant for buying timber could just as easily become military funds—and he could go take it by force!

Lin Qian slowly set down the letter and took a deep breath. Now that he knew the timber data, the blueprints for the new flagship would need some revision. Just then, footsteps sounded again outside the door, and a moment later Ran Qiu walked in: "Milord, another letter has arrived, also said to be from Jiaozhi." Lin Qian took it. This letter was written by Bai Qing, explaining that the Nguyen Lord had agreed to deliver the "Whale's Spine," relating the matter concerning Nguyen Hong Ngoc, and laying out the plans she and Zheng Zhilong had for the future.

Lin Qian set down the letter, frowning in thought.

Nguyen Hong Ngoc's appearance was unexpected to him.

If this matter were handled well, perhaps she could be cultivated into a new Nguyen Lord friendly to the Great Ming.

Because of her identity as a woman, Nguyen Hong Ngoc's rule would inevitably be unstable, which in turn would strengthen her reliance on Lin Qian, making her easier to control.

But that was a move for later—for now, the priority was getting this batch of timber in hand.

So Lin Qian had Ran Qiu fetch paper and brush, and wrote a reply to Bai Qing on the spot.

In the letter, he affirmed the two's actions thus far, issued the order that the timber absolutely must be shipped back to Nan'ao, and at the same time instructed them to treat Nguyen Hong Ngoc well. He also arranged for Bai Qing to find trusted confidants to spread Nguyen Hong Ngoc's heroic story locally, with emphasis on publicizing her understanding of righteousness, her spirit of self-sacrifice, loyalty to the state, and filial devotion to her father.

The ending of the story was to be changed to "the Princess vanished at sea," but if Guangnan ever faced peril, she would return "like a bolt of lightning."

At the same time, the Princess's disappearance was to be linked with the arrival of the great fleet at port, elevating the tale toward myth and legend.

In this way, Nguyen Hong Ngoc's prestige would inevitably soar, and since the one being publicized was the Nguyen Lord's own daughter, Guangnan would find it inconvenient to obstruct the spread.

The Nguyen Lord would surely sit on pins and needles every day, and in his desperation for Bai Qing to send troops, his price would keep rising.

At the same time, this also paved a path for Nguyen Hong Ngoc's eventual return to Guangnan.

When the people saw her come back, they would only think the legend had come true—not that a corpse had risen from the dead.

Lin Qian finished writing the letter, blew the ink dry, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to Yue Yi: "Send this back to Hoi An harbor."

"Ran Qiu, call Bailangzai, Second Brother Zhou, and Uncle Huang to come now... no, have them come tomorrow morning!"

"Yes." Ran Qiu acknowledged.

Ye Zhen hesitated a moment, then still asked: "Husband, has something happened?"

Lin Qian looked at her—saw her delicate brows slightly furrowed, her eyes full of worry, her small mouth slightly open, her hands clasped before her chest—and suddenly rose, pulled her into his arms in one motion, and kissed her soundly.

"Oh my!" Both maidservants were startled and quickly turned their backs.

Lin Qian laughed: "Your husband is about to strike it rich!"

Ye Zhen's face flushed crimson, as if she had drunk strong wine. She hurriedly pounded his chest and murmured with feigned anger: "Let me go at once, you lecher!"

Lin Qian helped her to her feet and announced loudly: "Come, let's go see the lantern fair!"

The next day, Bailangzai and Scholar Zhou arrived at Lin Qian's study.

"Sit." Lin Qian said.

A maidservant came in to pour tea.

After the maidservant left, Lin Qian took a sip of tea and said: "The timber from Hoi An will be arriving soon, so Nan'ao Island's talent reserves need to keep pace.

So in a few days, Bailangzai, you'll make a trip to Macao to recruit some hands. Second Brother, find some smooth talkers and go with Bailangzai. This recruitment drive must be on a very large scale—ideally, drain Macao dry of all its skilled craftsmen in one go!"

Bailangzai asked: "What kind of craftsmen are we recruiting?"

"Shipwrights, sailmakers, rope makers, blacksmiths, clockmakers, silver—" At this point, Lin Qian clenched his fist, "—the top craftsmen of every trade, recruit them all!"

Bailangzai nodded: "I understand."

Scholar Zhou's scalp went numb: "Hey, now! The helmsman didn't mean for you to go kidnap people! R-right?"

Lin Qian laughed: "Of course not. When you arrive in Macao, find Fat An and have him help spread the word—say that anyone willing to come to Nan'ao Island may bring their families along, will receive one hundred taels of silver as a settling-in allowance, double wages, and can sign a contract with a minimum term of just two years." Scholar Zhou was startled: "Helmsman, this treatment is far too generous."

Lin Qian laughed: "Especially for shipbuilding-related craftsmen—on top of the doubled wage, add another twenty percent. Also, glassworkers and clockmakers can each go another twenty percent higher."

Bailangzai: "Understood."

Scholar Zhou hastily tried to stop him: "No, no. This is too much. Since ancient times, people don't resent scarcity but inequality—the island's original craftsmen will have objections." Lin Qian said: "The island's original craftsmen will get raises too, doubled by the same proportion. How much silver is left in the public accounts now?"

"Still over two hundred and eighty thousand taels." Scholar Zhou's voice had weakened considerably.

"This is only the current account. When the fleet returns from Hoi An, the cargo value it brings back will be roughly five hundred thousand taels, leaving a surplus of over eight hundred thousand taels in the public accounts. Silver isn't saved by being stingy—pay the craftsmen a bit more. You can't go broke that way."

Lin Qian picked up a sheet of paper and read: "I've already calculated it. The top craftsmen in Macao earn no more than ten taels a month, and ordinary craftsmen no more than three. On the island, top craftsmen like Uncle Huang and Stonemason Chu earn fifteen to eighteen taels a month, ordinary craftsmen four taels, and apprentices either get only room and board, or at best one tael.

Adding up the craftsmen of Nan'ao and Dongning, apprentices included, there are no more than five hundred-odd people, and the annual wage bill comes to barely twenty-four thousand taels.

Compared to the value these craftsmen create, this bit of silver is truly negligible. Paying them more is only right."

Lin Qian smiled: "My only worry is that the craftsmen won't be willing to come."

Bailangzai said flatly: "Rest assured, Helmsman. As long as they have real skill, I'll use every means at my disposal to bring them in."

Scholar Zhou frowned: "The means must not be too rough."

Lin Qian corrected him: "A little roughness is fine, so long as it's done cleanly and no one finds out."

"Rest assured, Helmsman. I know how to handle things with discretion."

"I won't go into the details here—I've written them all down on this list." So saying, Lin Qian handed over a letter, and Bailangzai took it.

Lin Qian said: "On this trip to Macao, you must be willing to scatter silver freely. Spending more is no trouble, but if you spend less than thirty thousand taels, don't come back to see me."

"As you command!" Bailangzai clasped his fists and rose.

After the two—Scholar Zhou and Bailangzai—had left, Lin Qian went to the main hall to see Mute Huang, and directly showed him the dimensions of those one hundred and ninety-six teak logs.

"This batch of timber needs to be shipped back. Think of a way to transport it by sea."

Five days later, six Haicang ships anchored in Macao's harbor.

That afternoon, the president's proclamation was plastered all over Macao. Every shipyard, workshop, market, and tavern buzzed with news of Nan'ao Island recruiting craftsmen—in plazas and other gathering places, there were even dedicated personnel giving policy talks, and the speakers were accompanied by interpreters, in both Chinese and Portuguese.

Hearing the promises of a one-hundred-tael settling allowance, doubled monthly wages, contract employment, and the option of short-term work, the enthusiasm of all Macao was instantly ignited. Ming craftsmen might still hesitate, but Portuguese craftsmen signed up with tremendous fervor.

They had come East to make money in the first place. Being in Macao or on Nan'ao Island made little difference to them—naturally, they would go wherever the monthly pay was higher. And with the president backing the matter, and the recruiters being Macao's own guardian fleet, what was there left to hesitate about?

So many of Macao's shipwrights left that half the shipyards simply shut their doors the next day.

Two days later, a small portion of the workshops could no longer open either.

Three days later, even several taverns closed in succession—and on asking, it turned out they had no customers left at all.

Craftsmen who signed up to go to the island were given a simple test before boarding the ships.

Carpenters, for instance, had to assemble six Luban locks or do a straight-line chisel test.

Sailmakers had to sew a palm-sized piece of canvas on the spot, and so on.

After the test, each person received a rating certificate stamped with the red seal of the "Nan'ao Island Administrative Office."

The vast majority of Portuguese couldn't read the Chinese characters on it, but they were familiar with Latin letters.

Most of the rating certificates read B or C, and quite a few read D, but almost no A's were to be seen.

According to the registering officials, this was a craftsman grading system implemented on Nan'ao Island—the island would pay wages according to this standard.

Of course, wages varied by trade.

For instance, the two highest-paying trades were glassworkers and clockmakers, followed by shipwrights and others.

Glassworkers in particular were offered an astronomical wage—nearly fifty taels of silver a month.

But in this era, glass was still monopolized by a handful of countries and families. Neither Portugal nor Spain had glass production capacity, so this position attracted no takers.

Portugal did have clockmakers, however, and one of exceptional skill was rated Grade A, receiving a top salary of thirty-two taels a month, drawing the envy of the surrounding craftsmen.

Those who hadn't been selected could only watch the others board the ships, their eyes full of resentment and envy, secretly wishing they had learned a trade back then.

Meanwhile, Bailangzai personally visited the Bocarro cannon foundry, showing warm concern for the foundry workers and asking their opinions on production management. Whatever the workers raised was rectified on the spot.

For example, one worker said the foundry was too hot in summer.

Bailangzai immediately declared: "From now on, every summer, the foundry must buy ice for cooling—every ten workers share one ice bucket, with ice supplied continuously all day!"

The workers cheered with joy.

Bocarro, the foundry's major shareholder, buried his head in his notes.

On this trip to Macao, Bailangzai recruited craftsmen from every trade, but only gave the foundry workers a pay raise—he did not transfer them to Nan'ao Island.

First, because cannon casting was heavy industry, and the production equipment was inconvenient to transport.

Second, pig iron, sulfur, saltpeter, charcoal, and the like all depended on supply from Guangdong. After relocating the plant, establishing a supply chain would be extremely inconvenient.

Moreover, most of the raw materials were sensitive controlled goods. Purchasing them under a Portuguese identity was far more convenient than Lin Qian buying them himself. So Bailangzai's purpose on this trip was to placate the workers while continuing to improve the foundry's treatment, attracting more Portuguese craftsmen to cross the sea. As for costs or profits, Bailangzai didn't consider them at all.

After all, Lin Qian held only a tenth of the foundry's shares—even if it made money, the profit wouldn't be much, and if it lost money, the major shareholder would bear most of the loss.

Yet the foundry's operational decision-making power was firmly in Lin Qian's hands, and Bocarro felt like crying but had no tears.

Bailangzai lingered in Macao for nearly half a month and recruited over three hundred and seventy craftsmen.

The six Haicang ships came and went as if sucking Macao dry of blood—the whole city grew noticeably quieter.

Quite a few Macao residents grumbled about this.

Therefore, on Lin Qian's instructions, Bailangzai had built in Macao one public reservoir, three granaries, three wooden bridges, three stone-paved roads, and fifty drainage ditches, with a project budget of over twenty-eight thousand taels of silver.

For these projects, Lin Qian only provided the funding and did not actually send people to do the construction. The construction units were coordinated by the Macao Senate, and Lin Qian was only responsible for publicizing the projects. In this way, Lin Qian's reputation transformed from the vampire of Macao into the builder of Macao.

And President Fat An gained political achievements and the support of the citizens, his position growing even more secure.

The citizens gained a wealth of public facilities and job opportunities.

Macao, meanwhile, made a strong impression among the Portuguese and even Europeans at large, which would attract more European craftsmen.

Even the auditors under Lin Qian could gain experience by going to Macao for this matter—a true win for all sides.

Lin Qian also discovered that because the Ming's productive capacity was low and the government neglected infrastructure construction, things like repairing bridges and mending roads were like charcoal delivered in snow—very effective at winning the people's hearts.

With the successful experience of Macao in hand, Lin Qian planned to do it again in Zhangzhou once Huang Hetai controlled the prefecture's army.

While Macao was busily repairing bridges and mending roads—

At dawn, in the north of Jiaozhi, in the sea at the mouth of the Red River, the Cat Ba archipelago.

A fleet was slowly sailing out toward the south.

The fleet had an enormous number of ships—half an hour passed and it still hadn't finished clearing the stone pillars of the archipelago.

Looking out, the sea surface was almost entirely covered with ships, vessels packed together as densely as dumplings in a pot.

The fleet's flagship was a three-masted Guangdong ship with fiery red sails, named the Canglang.

Zhong Bin stood on the stern deck of the Canglang, gazing at the endless procession of ships behind him, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

In the winter month of the second year of Tianqi, Yan Siqi led his forces into a great battle against Lin Qian, only to be dealt a crushing blow with heavy casualties—Yan Siqi himself was blasted into a pulp by a single cannon shot.

Seeing that the situation was hopeless, and fearing punishment from Li Dan, Zhong Bin immediately fled with his forces.

First he hid east of Takashima in Nagasaki, waiting for Lin Qian's fleet to sail away, while replenishing fresh water and dry provisions and repairing the hulls.

By the end of the twelfth month, he led his fleet southward.

They sailed south along Kyushu, the Ryukyus, and Chiwei Yu.

Knowing that Lin Qian's sphere of influence covered the seas of Fujian and Guangdong, Zhong Bin dared not enter the Dongning Strait, instead sailing south along the eastern side of Dongning Island. This was a route the Dutch often took, and it was also the route Yan Siqi had used when he fled back to Hirado.

Rather than risk meeting Lin Qian's fleet, Zhong Bin would rather gamble with Heaven itself.

Fortunately it was still spring then, and the northeast monsoon was still blowing. Zhong Bin's fleet managed to sail south against the Kuroshio Current through sheer monsoon winds and willpower, reaching Luzon. By then it was already the fifth month of the third year of Tianqi, precisely the season when Ming merchant ships were sailing north from Luzon on their return voyage—in the parlance of sea bandits, this was the "fish run" season.

Zhong Bin returned to his old trade, plundering three large Fujian junks in short order and reaping a bountiful haul. He recruited men and bought horses in Luzon, living a carefree life for a time. But after the incident of Lin Qian seizing the ship, Manila was utterly disgusted with piracy.

Moreover, the Santa Ana had been seized by Lin Qian in late May and early June—for Zhong Bin to cause trouble in the same months was practically daring to scratch the head of the God of Tai Sui. If this could be endured, what could not?

The newly appointed Governor-General immediately ordered the navy to put to sea and hunt down the pirates.

Finally, on Zhong Bin's fourth attempt at plundering, he was caught red-handed by the Spanish navy.

In response to the pirates and the Dutch, after the Santa Ana was seized, the Spanish Crown dispatched five more large galleons to Manila.

Zhong Bin had practically run straight into the muzzle of a gun. He was chased several hundred nautical miles by Spanish warships, fleeing all the way to the middle of the South China Sea, and only barely shook off his pursuers by sailing against the wind and maneuvering nimbly among the reefs and islands.

By then it was already the eighth month of the third year of Tianqi. Sea conditions were unpredictable, squalls frequent—sailing the open ocean was little different from seeking death.

Zhong Bin had no way to turn back, so he could only grit his teeth and sail west, planning to make port somewhere along the coast of Jiaozhi.

After all, he had heard of the prosperity of Hoi An harbor even while in Luzon.

After passing through several storms, Zhong Bin was blown off course and arrived in the territory under the Trinh Lord.

At that time, the Trinh and the Nguyen were already at daggers drawn. The Trinh Lord was recruiting soldiers and buying horses, eagerly enlisting sea bandits.

Zhong Bin never dreamed that sea bandits, hunted by all, would one day become hot commodities.

With his experience from numerous great naval battles, the firepower of the Canglang, and the silver plundered from Luzon, he thrived under the Trinh Lord. First he used threats and bribes to induct large numbers of Ming and Jiaozhi fishermen into his ranks, then he seized vessels and swallowed up other sea bandits.

Upon learning that the defenses of the Great Pearl Mother pearl grounds were weak, he even launched a major invasion, plundering three pearl farms in succession.

Were it not for fear of Ming retaliation, even Hepu city might have been sacked by him.

With his vicious eye, ruthless hand, and liberal spending of silver, Zhong Bin rapidly gathered over three thousand followers and over a hundred warships.

The people of Jiaozhi gave him the title of "Zhong the King of Hell."

Of course, men scraped together in haste could hardly be said to possess real fighting strength.

Aside from the Canglang, he had only two cannon ships from the Fire Sail Battalion—one had been sunk by the Ming fleet while pursuing them during the siege of Hoi An harbor, leaving only one now.

The rest of his vessels were mostly Cangshan ships and bird ships; the only few Fujian junks he had were seized from Ming merchants during the siege of Hoi An.

These ships would certainly not measure up before sea monsters like Li Dan, Lin Qian, or the Spanish.

But in Jiaozhi, they were already warships of excellent performance.

Thinking of this, Zhong Bin glanced at the Trinh Lord's navy sailing alongside, and nearly laughed out loud.

Their warships had flat bottoms, single masts, and tall deckhouses, with ten to thirty oars extending from each side—they were plainly oared galleys.

Their only virtue was not relying much on wind; aside from that, they were utterly useless.

By comparison, the Nguyen Lord's navy, though smaller, was somewhat more advanced.

Jiaozhi's navy was weak and naval battles were low in intensity. By basing himself here under the Trinh Lord's protection, with Ming too wary to strike for fear of harming the Trinh, this truly was a paradise for sea bandits!

Now only one thing remained to secure this paradise: defeating the "Zheng He Fleet" at Hoi An harbor.

"I hear that although the 'Zheng He Fleet' has few ships, they are all behemoths five or six zhang high and twenty or thirty zhang long. Do you have confidence in this battle?" The speaker was the Trinh Lord's military supervisor, named Zheng Wenke. This man was a distant member of the Trinh clan, utterly unlettered and shallow in knowledge, and his words made Zhong Bin want to laugh.

But Zhong Bin respectfully clasped his hands and said: "Rest assured, Supervisor. Though they call themselves the 'Zheng He Fleet,' they have nothing to do with Zheng He. Their ships may be large, but according to my scouts, all their cannon ships are moored alongside the pier.

If attacked, casting off lines, weighing anchor, and raising sails would take at least two hours.

We are upwind. As long as we launch a surprise attack with fire ships under cover of darkness, no matter how strong or large their vessels are, they will all be reduced to ashes."

"Mm." Zheng Wenke nodded doubtfully, then after a moment's thought said: "What do you mean 'we'? This battle is for your forces alone. General Huang and I are both here merely to supervise."

"Yes." Zhong Bin answered respectfully.

He glanced sidelong at the Trinh Lord's fleet off his starboard side. There were over a hundred vessels, a vast expanse upon the sea, their oars churning ceaselessly like so many centipedes crawling across the water.

Zhong Bin thought to himself: "These shrimp soldiers and crab generals might be useful on land, but if they fought at sea alongside me, they'd only get in my way." Yet his wealth and glory all depended on the Trinh Lord, so despite commanding overwhelming naval strength, he remained extremely courteous to the Trinh military supervisor. "Supervisor, from Cat Ba Island to Hoi An harbor is over 1,600 li—a voyage of seven or eight days. Why not go rest in your cabin? I've prepared a little treat for you there."

As Zhong Bin spoke, he revealed a smile that any man would understand.

The supervisor laughed: "You know your manners."

He then entered the cabin, and immediately a woman's startled cry came from within: "Who are you? Don't touch me! Ah—"

An hour later, the supervisor emerged from the cabin with a flushed face, walked to the stern deck, chewing betel nut and panting heavily, and said in a muffled voice: "I thought you'd captured Nguyen Hong Ngoc for me, but this Ming woman isn't bad either."

Zhong Bin said: "She's the daughter of a great landowner. I'm glad the Supervisor likes her... Who is Nguyen Hong Ngoc?"

Zheng Wenke told the story of Nguyen Hong Ngoc cutting off her hair to join the army, then going missing in a naval battle, with rumors that she would return like lightning—then he spewed a torrent of filthy language. Vietnam had an ancient tradition of women serving as generals, such as the Trung Sisters.

Thus, Nguyen Hong Ngoc's story spread quickly among the common people, and through spy networks, naturally reached the Trinh Lord's court as well.

After hearing this, Zhong Bin was secretly alarmed: "This story is so tragic and stirring—isn't it meant to inspire the troops, to make the underdog win through righteous indignation? Even I can see the intent, and this supervisor is a complete fool."

Soon it was noon. A cook came aboard to deliver meals, and when he entered the cabin he was startled, cried out, and fell to the floor.

Zhong Bin hurried down to investigate. The landowner's daughter had somehow freed herself from her bonds at some point, tied bedsheets into a rope, and hanged herself.

Zhong Bin cursed the bad luck and ordered: "Throw the body into the sea! Skinny Dog, tonight you take a small boat ashore and fetch another woman." The one called Skinny Dog looked at the woman's corpse, licked his lips, and said: "Ship Lord, just throwing her into the sea—isn't that a waste?"

Zhong Bin laughed and cursed: "Suit yourself."

"Thank you, Ship Lord." Skinny Dog hastily directed his men to carry the corpse into the cabin.

Just then, the lookout suddenly shouted, "Enemy ships off the stern!"

Zhong Bin's heart jolted. He ran two steps up to the stern deck and raised his telescope to look into the distance.

Zheng Wenke said in a panic, "What's going on? How did they come up behind us?"

Through the telescope, Zhong Bin saw four large decked ships and five small boats approaching. He smiled and said, "They've come just in time. Signal the fleet to turn around!" "Aye! Hard to port, port side to the wind, change sails!" the navigator shouted at the top of his lungs.

Zheng Wenke raised his voice, trembling as he spoke: "Tell me what's going on! Didn't we agree to launch a surprise attack at Hoi An? How are the enemies behind us—can we even win this fight?"

A confident smile spread across Zhong Bin's face: "There's a stretch of shallows nearby. I deliberately lured the enemy here! They've fallen into my trap!"

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen