Chapter 193: Selling the Family Estate, Trading for Guns and Cannons

The fourth year of Tianqi, end of the third month.

Off the coast of Hoi An, the northeast monsoon was already showing signs of weakening.

The Ming sailors who had spent the entire spring in Cochin China were counting the days on their fingers, eager to return home.

Ever since Zheng Zhilong had made contact with the Trinh lord's court, the Nguyen lord's court up and down had felt utterly betrayed.

The Nguyen lord even sent Le Van Hung to rebuke Bai Qing.

Bai Qing, however, countered with three points and berated Le Van Hung back.

First, she had promised to kill the sea bandits, and now she had done it.

Second, she had killed extra men of the Trinh lord's navy, and so the Trinh lord ought to be compensated.

Third, little Quang Nam, a tiny state, dared to send someone to rebuke her — far too presumptuous. Did they take the Ming fleet for hired mercenaries?

After that, the Nguyen lord never sent anyone to see Bai Qing again.

For a time, the atmosphere between the two sides was extremely delicate.

Especially since the fleet Zheng Zhilong had taken north to suppress the sea bandits had still not returned to port, which made the Nguyen lord and his ministers even more wary.

That day, Lü Zhou prepared several valuable gifts and personally called on Chen Wending.

Chen Wending, hearing the servant's report and considering the situation at court, had not intended to receive him — but business had to be done after all.

This year, with the sea bandits blockading the port, merchant ships arriving at Hoi An had dropped sharply, and goods were in short supply.

It was only thanks to Lü Zhou's special consideration that his trading house had managed to fill its stock.

This god of wealth would be coming again next year too; now was certainly not the time to tear faces apart, so he invited him inside after all.

In the main hall, the two took their seats as host and guest.

Lü Zhou said the fleet would set sail once the southwest monsoon steadied, and that he had come to take his leave. His words were extremely courteous, and he did not touch on politics at all. This greatly raised Chen Wending's regard for him — he had long wanted to curry favor with the "Zheng He merchant fleet" — and seeing this, he immediately thumped his chest and declared: "Fleet Master, rest assured. When your merchant fleet returns next year, I dare not promise the highest price for all your goods, but at the very least the second-highest!"

Lü Zhou smiled: "A fair price, a fair price is enough! In business, it's all about give and take. If you always buy at the second-highest price, wouldn't I be taking advantage of you, Bureau Secretary Chen? How could such a business last long?"

Chen Wending was overjoyed and repeatedly said exactly so.

His trading house dealt in re-export trade — buying goods from the Ming and selling them to the Dutch and the Portuguese.

Given the ultra-high gross margins of maritime trade in this era, one could say that as long as he could get goods, he was guaranteed a profit without loss.

Therefore, securing a stable supply of goods was his top priority.

In a few brief exchanges, Chen Wending's estrangement vanished completely, and he devoted himself entirely to currying favor with Lü Zhou.

He called for dancing girls to dance, and called for a banquet to be served.

At the banquet, Chen Wending pointed at the dancing girls and said: "Fleet Master, our little country is weak — do these girls pass muster?"

Lü Zhou said: "The dancing girls in Bureau Secretary Chen's household sway with such grace, truly admirable."

Chen Wending pulled him close and whispered: "In that case, tonight I'll send them to the Fleet Master's chamber."

Lü Zhou was startled and hastily waved his hands: "How could that be proper!"

Chen Wending laughed: "How could it not be? Commander Zheng of your merchant fleet bedded six women in a single night up north — it's become quite the tale."

"Ah?" Lü Zhou was so astonished that for a moment he even forgot why he had come, and probed: "Is this true?"

Chen Wending smiled mysteriously: "My lord naturally has his ways of knowing."

Thereupon, after Chen Wending's repeated invitations, Lü Zhou accepted one with feigned reluctance.

Chen Wending said: "The Fleet Master has good taste! In my household, she commands the highest price of them all!"

Lü Zhou's face was full of embarrassment as he waved his hand, then said gratefully: "Since Bureau Secretary Chen has been so open with me, I have a path to wealth — I only wonder whether the Secretary will trust me."

Chen Wending perked up at once and said solemnly: "Pray tell."

"Teak." Lü Zhou lowered his voice. "Shipbuilding urgently needs teak, and in the future our merchant fleet will be buying more and more of it. If the Secretary invests in this, you're guaranteed a profit with no loss." The moment Chen Wending heard the word "teak," he grew wary at once; seeing that it was an investment in a teak mill, he relaxed again and clasped his hands: "Thank you, Fleet Master, for the guidance." Lü Zhou then went on to speak of the merchant fleet's future development and the goods that would arrive at Hoi An in the years to come — all things he had made up on the spot before coming — yet they made Chen Wending listen with rapt delight.

The two clinked cups and drank frequently.

At the end, Lü Zhou feigned drunkenness and steered the conversation to the Nguyen lord's whale-rib timber, asking why the whale ribs that had been promised were no longer being delivered.

Chen Wending's heart waged a long war within him, and in the end, unwilling to give up future wealth, he pretended to be drunk and said: "Have you not heard the parable of Bian Zhuang stabbing the tiger? These are but cattle and sheep."

Lü Zhou was completely baffled: "What?"

Chen Wending pointed at the plate before him, which held a piece of steamed beef: "Seeing this object, I spoke drunken nonsense. Fleet Master, don't take it to heart. I cannot hold my liquor — I'll go rest now. Axiang, attend to the Fleet Master."

"Yes." The dancing girl named Axiang walked over with graceful steps, indeed carrying a waft of fragrant breeze: "Fleet Master, let me support you to your rest."

Lü Zhou spent the whole night pondering that phrase — what tiger, what cattle and sheep — and had no heart for enjoyment.

After a wanton night, he hurried to the docks, boarded the Zhangzhou, and reported those words to Bai Qing.

Bai Qing was naturally just as baffled. Fortunately, there were many Fujianese in Hoi An harbor, and quite a few who had studied; she sent sailors ashore to find someone to ask.

After a long while, the sailors returned to report.

"Commander. It's a story from some stratagem or other.

It says a man named Zhuangzi went to kill a tiger. He saw two tigers fighting over an ox, and waited quietly by the side while they fought. When the two had fought until one was dead and one was wounded, he came out and killed the wounded one — slaying two tigers in a single stroke."

Bai Qing frowned: "Isn't that Zhuangzi a scholar? How does he have the skill to kill tigers?"

The sailor looked utterly bewildered.

Lü Zhou scratched his head: "Perhaps, like the helmsman, he's skilled in both letters and arms?"

Bai Qing shook her head: "Enough. In any case, the meaning is clear."

Lü Zhou said: "Shall we send the order to Commander Zheng to return and reinforce us?"

Bai Qing smiled: "If the tiger isn't killed before Zhuangzi's very eyes, how will Zhuangzi know how formidable we are?"

Lü Zhou was stunned for a moment, then smiled: "I understand what needs to be done."

Several days later.

One hundred nautical miles southeast of Hoi An harbor, ten warships of the Dutch East India Company were slowly underway.

Aboard the flagship Revenge, fleet commander Reijersen was gripping a telescope, continuously sweeping his gaze across the sea.

He had come on this voyage because of intelligence passed on by the Dutch at Hoi An, to plunder a Ming merchant fleet called the "Zheng He Fleet."

Rumor had it that the fleet numbered over a hundred merchant ships, laden with gold, silver, raw silk, and white sugar.

In wealth, it rivaled—even surpassed—the Spanish treasure fleets.

Moreover, rumor had it that the Nguyen Lord of Quang Nam had a stock of ready large timber, to be sold at competitive auction.

Strategic materials of that caliber absolutely demanded a share of the spoils.

Through intelligence from the Dutch merchants at Hoi An, Raelson had already gained a solid grasp of the Zheng He Fleet's situation.

That fleet had poor defenses—few warships to begin with, and it was split into two detachments; the warships at Hoi An were even all moored alongside the pier. Once battle began, these Ming fleet vessels would be sitting ducks.

But the closer he drew to Hoi An, the stronger Raelson's unease grew. He could not sleep at night; lying aboard ship, his heart thumped wildly, and he felt certain something momentous was about to happen.

The crushing defeat that had broken Dutch hearts two years ago—the pain of it was too raw!

To this day, Raelson felt that Governor-General Coen had died in his place.

Because the commander of that expedition against Macao should have been him.

"Port bow—enemy ship!" the lookout shouted.

The sailors on deck instinctively crowded toward the port side.

Some sailors trembled all over, murmuring: "Here it comes again... here it comes again... the devil must be somewhere nearby!"

Others said: "That ship doesn't sail by the wind at all—the Kraken's tentacles are dragging it along underneath."

Still others said: "These waters are said to hold a sea centipede, each of its legs as large as an island!"

Some fell to their knees and prayed without cease.

Other crewmen stared wide-eyed, cold sweat streaming, and said: "It's this, it's this—that night it was just like this, first the devil ship, then the fires of hell. We're done for..."

Raelson's face went pale. He raised his telescope and looked toward the port side.

There, between sea and sky, an eagle ship darted through the waves. Its signature two great triangular lateen sails were strikingly conspicuous, like the tall crest of a chameleon's back. A southwest wind was blowing across the sea, yet the vessel was sailing almost directly into the wind—a breathtaking sight.

No wonder the crew spread tales of the Kraken's tentacles dragging it along.

This was not the first time the fleet had encountered such eagle ships.

Five days earlier, an eagle ship had appeared within the fleet's sight. The farther north they sailed, the more eagle ships appeared, and the more frequent their sightings. Aboard were crewmen who had survived the Battle of Macao; some recalled having seen similar vessels in the Lingdingyang waters.

On the very night that ship appeared, Governor-General Coen's fleet had been burned by hellfire magma.

Such ships were ten to one Ming naval reconnaissance vessels—or, put more extremely, quite possibly the harbinger of a naval attack! Though the eagle ships were silent, appearing only briefly each day to take a distant look at the Dutch fleet.

Yet Raelson still felt like needles were pricking his back—he could not sit still.

The feeling was like walking through the jungles of Java at night and suddenly spotting a pair of round, green-glowing eyes fixed on you.

As the distance to Hoi An shrank, Raelson even felt he could hear a low tiger's growl.

For this voyage to Hoi An, his fleet numbered ten yachts in all.

According to intelligence, the Ming fleet at Hoi An had no more than five ships—split up, moored at dock, beset by all manner of disadvantages.

Reason told him that his own strength could crush the Ming.

But instinct told him: run!

That instinct was so overwhelming it nearly drove him mad.

"The sailors are very afraid, Commander," the first mate reminded him at his side.

Raelson snapped back to attention and looked out over the deck. Most of the sailors had pulled out crucifixes and begun to pray.

Raelson hesitated for a long while, then said: "Lower the sails. Stop the ship."

The first mate called out loudly: "Lower the sails!"

Raelson returned to the captain's cabin. About an hour later, he came out carrying a letter; the wax seal still held some warmth, clearly just written. "Find a messenger to take my letter to Hoi An. Say that we wish to trade peacefully at Hoi An."

"Yes, sir."

Two years ago, Governor-General Coen's death had sent a tremendous shock through the Seventeen Gentlemen—the board of directors.

The board argued fiercely over the Company's future direction.

One faction held that forces should be reinforced in Southeast Asia to maintain Coen's policy of violent trade.

After all, apart from the single defeat at the Battle of Macao, every act of violence by Coen had brought astonishing returns.

The Spice Islands trade, for instance, remained monopolized in the Company's hands to this day.

The other faction held that the Company should reduce military expenditure and instead strengthen production.

By building up Batavia, developing the sugar industry, and enslaving Javanese and Chinese laborers, they could compress costs, produce goods, and seize profits. The two factions quarreled fiercely, and in the end each gave ground—Pieter de Carpentier was appointed Governor-General.

This man had been Coen's right hand, intimately familiar with all of Coen's brutal methods.

At the same time, he had previously overseen the construction of Batavia and had not participated much in violent campaigns.

It was precisely because of such a centrist superior that Raelson was able to oscillate back and forth between war and peace.

Had Raelson been a general of a nation, his unilateral ceasefire and peace negotiations would unquestionably have been treason.

But Raelson answered to the East India Company, and the Company pursued only profit.

If he chose war, the outcome was either great gains or ruinous losses.

If he chose peaceful trade, he could at least earn a modest profit while greatly reducing risk.

As he pondered, Raelson's messenger had already descended to a small boat and was rowing toward Hoi An.

Raelson gazed thoughtfully in the direction the messenger had gone.

Just a few months earlier, the East India Company had executed ten Englishmen at Ambon and confiscated the English East India Company's trading post. This had made the English extremely resentful of the Dutch—at a time like this, it was best not to stir up more trouble.

Aboard the Chaozhou, Bai Qing and the others learned of Raelson's intentions and felt greatly surprised.

According to eagle ship intelligence, the Dutch had ten gun ships this time.

The merchant fleet had only five gun ships—even with the Tianyuan arriving in support, the disparity in strength remained vast.

Bai Qing could only send eagle ships out on frequent reconnaissance, while the rest studied maps and tactics day and night, finally devising a clever plan to defeat a larger force with a smaller one.

Yet unexpectedly, the Dutch, who had been advancing with such ferocious momentum, suddenly proposed peace talks halfway through—and in an extremely humble tone, no less.

Facing the Dutch envoy, everyone struggled to suppress their laughter.

Bai Qing had the interpreter read Reyersen's letter aloud, then said coolly, "Peaceful trade is acceptable, but your forces must only be permitted to enter port after our fleet has departed."

The interpreter translated her words into Dutch.

The envoy immediately said, "No problem, respected lady."

Had it been any other demand, the envoy would certainly have had to return and seek instructions—but not being in port simultaneously was also Reyersen's own wish, so he naturally agreed readily. Bai Qing waved for the envoy to withdraw. Only after the envoy's boat had rowed a good distance away did she pick up the letter, slip it back into its envelope, and hand it to Lü Zhou: "Have Chen Wending deliver this to the Nguyễn Lord. And inform him that the entire fleet will depart port in five days."

Bai Qing stressed the word "entire" with heavy emphasis. Lü Zhou knew what she meant, acknowledged the order, and went ashore.

Bailangzai said, "Sis, do you think the helmsman only sent me because he already knew the Dutch wouldn't dare make a move?"

Bai Qing laughed: "You're making him sound like some kind of prophet."

Bailangzai pounded the gunwale: "What a waste of a trip."

Bai Qing said, "How is it a waste? José."

"Commander, your orders?" José sidled over with a grin.

"Since the Tianyuan has come, don't let it go to waste—fill its hold to the brim as well."

"Right away!" José laughed. "As it happens, I've got a few hundred planks of teak lumber and didn't know where to put them!"

Three days later, at the court of the Nguyễn Lord in Phú Xuân.

The assembled ministers stared at the letter of surrender written by the Dutch, all struck dumb.

The Nguyễn Lord and his ministers had regarded the Dutch as their powerful ally; much of the intelligence the Dutch in Hội An received had even been deliberately leaked by the Nguyễn Lord's own people. Now, with only one final step remaining, who could have expected the Dutch to simply sue for peace?

When massacring the natives of Java, these men had swung their blades without pause.

But when faced with a hard bone to chew, they suddenly started talking about legal principles and rules.

You Dutch withdraw unscathed—where does that leave the Nguyễn Lord and his ministers?

Would that not make them outsiders to both sides?

In the great hall, Chen Wending was weeping and wailing, begging the Nguyễn Lord to consider the greater picture.

The situation was now perfectly clear: the moment Zheng He's fleet set sail, the Zheng Lord's army would immediately invade from the south.

Of course, the Nguyễn Lord could also seek the Dutch's protection.

But the Nguyễn Lord had already offended the Great Ming people—would the Dutch dare to shelter the Nguyễn Lord at the risk of offending Great Ming?

The Dutch themselves were the ones suing for peace with Great Ming.

Even setting that aside—suppose the Dutch did agree to protect the Nguyễn Lord.

Then couldn't the Great Ming people turn around and support the Zheng Lord?

That commander surnamed Zheng in Zheng He's fleet had been living quite comfortably in the Zheng Lord's palace, after all.

After hearing Chen Wending's blood-weeping analysis, the Nguyễn Lord felt as though all strength had been drained from his limbs and bones. He murmured, "My Quảng Nam has wealth aplenty, yet no sea power—and so we suffer this humiliation today. Enough. The teak lumber my predecessor stockpiled was meant for emergencies. Use it."

The officials were overjoyed and chorused, "Your Majesty is sagacious!"

The Nguyễn Lord said, "Since we're selling off our ancestral property, we must get a good price for it. Bureau Secretary Chen and Bureau Secretary Lê shall negotiate with the Great Ming people together." "Yes." Chen Wending hesitated a moment, then said, "Your Majesty, the southwest monsoon is now gradually stabilizing—Zheng He's fleet may set sail any day now... As for the terms, I fear..."

The Nguyễn Lord said coolly, "Teak lumber cannot strengthen a nation; keeping it serves no purpose. Exchange it all for guns and cannons."

Lê Văn Hùng said, "Your ministers understand."

After the court session ended and the ministers withdrew, the Nguyễn Lord gazed at the empty great hall and felt utterly alone.

He sighed softly, then said in a deep voice, "Summon the English envoy."

A moment later, a golden-haired Englishman entered, bowed, and said, "Respected Your Majesty, Victor offers you his respects."

The Nguyễn Lord said, "Can you truly help us cast cannons and build ships?"

Victor bowed: "The English are the most trustworthy merchants and the finest shipwrights in all the world. With just a small trading post, we could even build top-grade ships of the line for your nation."

The Nguyễn Lord said, "No need for top-grade—just enough to deal with our neighbor to the north."

Mid-April, the fourth year of Tianqi.

After multiple rounds of negotiations.

The Nguyễn Lord's representatives finally agreed to hand over all the teak lumber, including the "Whale's Spine," to Great Ming.

The conditions were fifty cannons, one thousand matchlock muskets, plus the permanent protection of one gunboat.

These terms were the result of many concessions by the Nguyễn Lord and his ministers, and had cost an additional ten thousand taels of silver in bribes.

For Lin Qian, supplying weapons to the Nguyễn Lord to keep him locked in stalemate with the Zheng Lord had always been a strategic objective.

And leaving a gunboat behind—called protection, but in truth surveillance.

Moreover, even if he didn't sell arms to the Nguyễn Lord, the Dutch would—so he might as well seize the market first.

In the Nan'ao island government armory, there was a large stock of guns and cannons seized from the Dutch and Li Dan—all inferior goods of varying calibers, which conveniently cleared out the inventory. The shortfall was made up by the monkey-version weapons produced by the Bok Lao foundry.

Now that Lin Qian controlled the cannon foundry, purchasing firearms was no longer as expensive as before.

Trading these mass-produced guns and cannons for one hundred and ninety-six sections of teak lumber aged over several decades was a guaranteed profit with no risk of loss.

The only problem now was that Lin Qian also had interests on the Zheng Lord's side—namely, the Hạ Long coal fields.

On one side was the coal mine; on the other, the teak lumber and the market. One couldn't have both the fish and the bear's paw, which made Lin Qian's blood-transfusion to the Nguyễn Lord somewhat hamstrung. In the short term, the best solution was to foster an arms-sales proxy.

The long-term solution was to strengthen maritime supremacy, station a fleet, and become the maritime arbiter between the Zheng Lord and the Nguyễn Lord.

With Nan'ao island's current strength, the latter was not yet achievable.

So further strengthening the navy was absolutely necessary.

When the "Whale's Spine" had been transported through Phú Xuân port earlier, the palace gates had been dismantled and roads widened—they still hadn't been restored.

They could conveniently be used to transport the remaining lumber.

Lin Qian attached great importance to this batch of lumber. He sent Mute Huang aboard an eagle ship to Phú Xuân port to supervise in person, had Bailangzai pilot the Tianyuan and remain behind as escort, and also dispatched the remaining fourteen Haicang ships he had on hand to assist with the towing.

Transporting large timber across the sea was subject to numerous restrictions and was extremely complex—setting sail would not be possible for some time.

Thus the merchant fleet set off first, escorted by Bai Qing and the other warships.

The fifth month of the fourth year of Tianqi.

The returning merchant fleet sailed into the open seas off Guangdong.

In the Governor-General's residence in Guangzhou, the newly appointed Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi wore an ashen face, and the naval commanders in the hall all kept their heads lowered, not daring to meet his gaze.

Hu Yingtai said: "A hall full of generals and marshals, yet you cannot handle a mere band of sea bandits—how can you speak of protecting the homeland and defending the state?"

One commander said: "That band of sea bandits moves with such secrecy, we truly cannot find them..."

Hu Yingtai fumed: "Still making excuses! These bandits have plundered over ten thousand pearl divers and annihilated the entire Weizhou naval force—a force of this size, and you say you can't find their trail?" "Perhaps they've already been wiped out."

Perhaps realizing how absurd that claim sounded, the speaker hastily explained himself.

"Sea bandits love nothing more than infighting. When their leader dies, their followers scatter like birds and beasts—it's a common occurrence."

Someone said: "Over the past month or two, the Pearl Mother Sea has been calm and peaceful. I rather think this lot really has been wiped out."

Hu Yingtai snorted coldly: "Wiped out by whom? The Fujian and Guangdong navies haven't even caught a glimpse of these bandits! Was it the kingdom of Jiaozhi that wiped them out?"

"Perhaps it was the Nan'ao naval force..." someone muttered under his breath.

Hu Yingtai was furious beyond measure: "Do you take the Nan'ao naval force for heavenly soldiers and divine generals? Regional Commander Wang, where is the Nan'ao naval force now?"

The Guangdong Regional Commander, thus singled out, clasped his hands awkwardly and said: "This humble officer does not know..."

Hu Yingtai sneered: "Acting at will, complying in appearance while defying in secret, refusing to heed orders—do you think that because you consider yourself a meritorious official and a relative by marriage of a Grand Secretary, I dare not touch you? Guards!"

"Your Excellency!" A soldier came running up in small steps, gasping for breath, "Nan'ao... the Nan'ao naval force... the docks... heads, so many heads!"

"Has the Nan'ao naval force fought its way in?" one commander said in a panicked tone.

"How dare you! What nonsense are you spouting!" Hu Yingtai barked.

"Your Excellency, you must go see for yourselves—the Nan'ao naval force has piled up so many heads at the docks!"

"Let's go!" Hu Yingtai moved with swift decisiveness, leading the way out the door.

The officials rode fast horses to the docks, where they saw a dozen or so fishing nets of various sizes laid out on an empty stretch of ground.

One end of each net was tightly bound, and the nets were stuffed full—all of them heads, by the look of it, several hundred at least, perhaps even close to a thousand.

Most of the heads had been salted, and some had already festered and rotted, oozing dark brown fluid onto the ground, the stench reaching them from far off. The sailors guarding the heads, seeing Hu Yingtai and the others arrive, were instantly relieved.

They stepped forward to offer their apologies: "Please forgive us, my lords. These heads all belong to the sea bandit Zhong Bin and his gang. They stank too terribly—there was no room for them in the hold, so we brought them ashore."

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen