Chapter 207: Drums, Fireworks, Noh Theater, and an Avalanche

September.

The delivery vouchers went through several rounds of ups and downs, but the overall trend continued to climb.

In Hirado, a large residence with a courtyard could be had for just two dan of delivery vouchers.

Because delivery vouchers were so light and thin, they were even beginning to show signs of being used as paper currency.

The entire island of Kyushu had gone mad over this one sheet of patterned paper.

Just how many daimyo, merchants, and temples had joined the game, no one could say anymore.

During this period, whenever delivery vouchers rose abnormally sharply, Chaya Jiro would come looking for He Sai, repeating the routine of issuing more to dilute the market.

Another five thousand dan of delivery vouchers were issued in succession, and Lin Qian's cumulative net profit reached 356,000 taels.

Though 350,000-plus taels of silver was a lot, compared to the market price of delivery vouchers that could easily exceed 80 taels per dan, the issue price was already very fair. At this point, a total of 15,000 dan of raw silk delivery vouchers had been put into the Hirado market.

Converted, that was 1.5 million jin!

In a normal year, the total raw silk imports for all of Hirado over two years combined wouldn't reach that figure.

It was one thing for ordinary folk and townspeople not to understand the total volume of delivery vouchers issued.

But Chaya Jiro was also playing dumb, which not only felt surreal to Bai Qing, but even He Sai found it baffling.

The first day of the tenth month.

Three whale ships, escorted by the Tianyuan, officially set sail from Jiaozhou Bay.

At the Portuguese trading post, a group of uninvited guests arrived.

Sonck came personally with his men to pay a visit.

In the meeting room, the Dutch sat on one side, while Bai Qing and the others sat with the Portuguese on the other — the atmosphere was tense, swords drawn and bows bent.

The Dutch negotiator said: "Lord Sonck has come personally in the hope of signing a trade treaty with your side. Let the Dutch and the Ming put aside past grievances and jointly develop the Japanese market."

With that, the representative handed over a treaty written in both languages.

Bai Qing took it and glanced over it, raising an eyebrow: "Fifty-fifty?"

The representative added: "To maintain trade stability, your side's annual trade volume with Hirado must not exceed 900,000 taels."

Bai Qing looked further down — the treaty did indeed contain that clause.

The representative continued: "Your side must allow the Dutch to establish a trading post in Zhangzhou, Fujian, and freely purchase goods.

At the same time, you may not arbitrarily print delivery vouchers in Hirado. If additional printing is needed, it must be discussed and decided with the Dutch trading post."

Lü Zhou slammed the table and cursed: "This is going too far! A bunch of stinking beggars, wanting this and that — are you here to cadge a handout?"

He Sai, being Spanish, was even more furious, and roared: "Greedy, arrogant infidels! A pack of Judases who deserve to burn in hell! Were your mothers crossed with Jews, to have spawned you mongrels?"

Bai Qing's blood was also surging hot, but he suppressed his emotions with great effort and said nothing.

Sonck smiled: "Don't get excited, respected sirs and madam — and you, you foolish pope's lapdog.

I came with sincerity, not with any intention to insult.

In January 1622, your side illegally attacked the Dutch fleet off the waters of Macao and murdered Dutch Governor-General Coen and several hundred Dutchmen. I have already submitted a motion to Batavia — as long as your side signs the treaty, this account will be wiped clean. What do you say?"

Bai Qing set down the treaty, his voice turning icy: "Is that so? And the matter of the Dutch assisting Li Dan by sending warships to threaten Nan'ao Island — will that also be wiped clean?" Sonck said happily: "That was a misunderstanding all along. We never took part in the fighting; the Pioneer was merely sailing normally, with absolutely no intent to threaten." Bai Qing flung the treaty, hurling it at Sonck's face.

Sonck raised a hand to block the treaty, his smile undiminished, and threatened: "You must be very confident in your navy, I take it?

You're treating a victory won by sneaking an attack under cover of night as your own medal, aren't you?

To be honest, aside from that galleon you stole from the Spaniards, the Company's directors don't give a damn about any of your other ships! The yachts you build are nothing but crude imitations of Dutch armed merchantmen.

You don't actually think those are the Company's main warships, do you?

The Dutch possess the most powerful navy in the world! The combined tonnage of our warships exceeds that of Spain, England, and France put together. The tonnage of ships launched from the Rotterdam shipyards in a single month matches your entire fleet!

The directors haven't stationed more warships here not because they can't send them, but because you're not worth it!"

Bai Qing did not reply, his face growing colder still.

Back on the Xu family's boats, pearl divers never argued on the water — any grudge was settled with a single knife stroke beneath the waves.

Killing a man was far easier than winning an argument.

Seeing her like this, Sonck thought she was intimidated, and his smile grew wider: "I imagine you're thinking — if you're no match for the Dutch navy, can you just hole up in Hirado harbor and be safe?

I admit, out of respect for trade, the Dutch won't make a move in Hirado harbor.

But don't forget — I still have this!"

Sonck drew from his bosom a somewhat crumpled sheet of paper, covered in intricate patterns and printed with Chinese characters — it was a delivery voucher.

Sonck sneered: "You fools have no idea what a dangerous thing you're playing with!

How much of this delivery voucher have you issued? Ten thousand dan? Or twenty thousand dan?

Do you really think this trick of printing paper to make money can go on forever?

Good God! The sixth year of Tianqi, sixth month — only a bit more than half a year away, isn't it? How much raw silk have you collected?

Once people discover that you can't deliver the raw silk, imagine what the furious Japanese will do?

Do your brains, barren as a desert, even understand what a bank run means?"

He'd hit the mark — Bai Qing truly didn't understand...

But on the surface he showed no fear, his expression unchanging, his gaze cold as a blade.

Meanwhile He Sai was trembling with rage on the side, but afraid that losing his temper might leak secrets, he gritted his teeth and dared not talk back.

In Sonck's eyes, this display read as weakness.

"Hmph." Sonck smiled smugly. "Your foolish game should be brought to an end. Matters of finance should be left to clever people! For the coming months, you are not permitted to print any more delivery vouchers.

If you behave well, before the maturity date, I will step in and save you from a bank run!"

With that, Sonck rose, tapped the treaty with his finger: "Think carefully about my words! You get fifty percent — that's not little!" He turned and left.

The Dutchmen who followed him strutted off like a flock of victorious peacocks, heads held high and arrogant.

On the very day the talks ended, the Dutch began driving up prices again.

A few days later, Chaya Jiro rushed frantically to the Portuguese trading post and found José: "Master He, it looks like the red barbarians are about to crash the market again. Please print another batch..."

He stopped mid-sentence, seeing Bai Qing and the other two staring at him gravely.

"Chaya-san, tell me honestly — has the Shogun been involved in buying and selling the delivery vouchers?" José asked seriously.

Chaya Jiro flatly denied it: "How could that be?"

José said: "So much silver has flooded into Hirado — it couldn't have come from nowhere. The government monopoly warehouse took in very little raw silk this year, so it couldn't have supplied it either. You're the Shogun's great merchant — there must be a powerful force backing you."

Chaya Jiro grew increasingly displeased and said coldly: "This sort of matter is not something a merchant should pry into."

José: "Chaya-san, there's something I'll say only once — you must remember it well!"

"Please, speak."

"The vouchers you hold, hold on behalf of others, and those held by the other daimyo — sell them all off, as fast as you can. This game is about to end."

Chaya Jiro laughed: "You really know how to joke."

José said: "It's true. The helmsman has already received a full supply of raw silk and is on his way to Hirado as we speak."

Chaya Jiro felt a thunderclap explode in his heart. After staring blankly for a long while, he laughed again: "No! The winter winds are just now forming — that's not the wind direction for coming to Hirado. And neither the summer silk nor the autumn silk could possibly have such a large yield. You're testing me!

Master He, could it be you think the issue price of twenty-three taels per bale is too low? Just say so directly — everything can be negotiated!"

José shook his head and said: "The delivery vouchers can't be issued anymore. And I'd also like to meet Matsuura Takanobu."

Chaya Jiro found this very strange. Recalling the Dutchmen's movements over the past few days, a knowing smile crept onto his face: "You... couldn't be afraid of the Dutch, could you? Or have you taken their bribes?"

José said: "The matter of the whale ships docking shouldn't be spoken of as a rule, but the helmsman is a man of great righteousness — he cannot bear to see the daimyo of Kyushu suffer losses."

Chaya Jiro stood up and said: "Enough! Coward! I've misjudged you people!"

With that he rose and left. On the way back, Chaya Jiro kept muttering to himself.

Printing a few sheets of paper could earn silver so easily — why would the Ming men be unwilling to do it?

Suddenly, a flash of realization struck his heart!

The Ming men were afraid they couldn't redeem the vouchers when they came due!

No wonder!

A smile spread across Chaya Jiro's face. As long as the vouchers didn't depreciate, he couldn't care less whether the Ming men lived or died!

The next day, José sent another visiting card, requesting an audience with Matsuura Takanobu, using the same arguments as before.

Afterwards, he also met with several other Japanese merchant representatives.

This news quickly reached the Dutch, though the content of José's conversations was strictly confidential, so he knew nothing of it.

He assumed it was just the Ming men's desperate struggle under threat, and paid it no mind.

By mid-October.

The winter winds had fully stabilized. Most of the Great Ming merchant ships in Hirado had already left port, leaving the docks empty.

Only the Great Ming Treasure Merchant Fleet and the Dutch warships remained in port.

This unusual behavior was interpreted differently by different observers.

Sonck thought the Ming men were frightened by his threats — not daring to leave port before the Dutch warships set sail.

Matsuura Takanobu, on the other hand, believed the Great Ming merchants were waiting for their raw silk cargo ships, and put a bit more faith in José's words.

Chaya Jiro's speculation lay somewhere between the two.

A few more days passed. The Dutch dumped heavily to crash the market. This time, without Chaya Jiro issuing vouchers to cushion the blow, the voucher price fell directly from 95 taels per bale to 74 taels per bale.

The Dutch made a killing.

Watching the voucher price keep falling, the daimyo and great merchants could no longer hold their nerve and sold along with them.

Three days later, the vouchers fell again to 68 taels per bale.

The Dutch tactic of buying high and selling low was already very familiar to the people of Hirado. Moreover, the spot price of Huzhou silk had risen to an astronomical 323 taels per bale, which only strengthened market confidence.

The voucher decline slowly came to a halt — at 58 taels per bale it stopped falling and instead began to creep back up.

The nineteenth day of the tenth month, the sixth year of Tianqi.

Under the escort of the Tianyuan, three whale ships sailed in from the direction of Jeju Island, entering Hirado from the north.

These were rare merchant ships docking in winter, and their bodies were incomparably vast — each one was a true leviathan.

The moment they arrived, all of Hirado's populace gathered to gawk — a spectacle even greater than when the Cloud Brocade had arrived in port.

When they saw crate after crate of raw silk being unloaded from the whale ships, Hirado's merchants went into a frenzy, rushing to redeem their vouchers.

Buying Huzhou silk at 180 taels when its market price was 323 taels — a clean profit of 143 taels on the resale!

"A pie falling from the sky" was no longer adequate to describe it — this was gold falling from heaven!

Even those without vouchers in hand were fine — the voucher price was now 59 taels per bale on the market. Buy one and redeem it immediately for a net profit of 84 taels! Thus, the moment news of the whale ships docking spread, voucher prices shot up like fireworks.

A voucher bought at one end of the street would have risen two or three taels by the other end; by the docks it had risen five or six!

Why would anyone be willing to sell their vouchers rather than redeem the goods themselves?

Because redeeming required paying the 180-tael purchase price. Most people had already bankrupted themselves buying vouchers — how could they afford the astronomical 180 taels? They could only grit their teeth and transfer their vouchers.

At the same time, because the vouchers were rising so fast and so fiercely, people began thinking of hoarding more vouchers to wait for further appreciation.

Thus, few vouchers were offered for sale on the market, which further fueled the frenzied rise.

Following Lin Qian's instructions, Bailangzai unloaded cargo and processed redemptions extremely slowly, to avoid flooding the market at once and stimulating it.

At the same time, no one knew how much raw silk Bailangzai had brought, so no one knew whether the Hirado market could absorb it — and thus no one could judge the direction of silk prices.

No one had complete information. Everyone was walking a night road blindfolded — that was why they couldn't see the abyss and jumped in without hesitation.

On the first day the whale ships docked, three hundred bales of silk were sold; the next day, five hundred bales; three days later, one thousand bales.

In the silk black market, prices had stopped rising — yet the vouchers were still climbing madly.

Matsuura Takanobu and the other agent merchants, heeding José's advice, sold off their vouchers while the upward momentum lasted.

Chaya Jiro, however, remained perpetually indecisive. He went to ask José how much raw silk this docking of the whale ships had brought.

He Sai answered truthfully.

But Chaya Jiro did not believe him.

Likewise, the Dutch, driven by commercial inertia, held on for two more days, driving the delivery vouchers to a terrifying high of 103 taels per dan.

The Dutch naturally knew what kind of impact a massive influx of raw silk would have on the market.

But by now they already held five thousand dan worth of delivery vouchers in hand—they were nearly the largest holders of vouchers.

Sonck was gambling that the whale ships did not carry sufficient raw silk.

During this period, of the three whale ships that had docked, only one was unloading raw silk; the cargo of the other two consisted of sugar and porcelain. Sonck judged that the three massive whale ships were merely a front put up by the Ming men—their purpose was to suppress the price of delivery vouchers, so they could buy the vouchers back at low prices and avoid the risk of a run!

Ten days later, when he saw the other two whale ships also begin unloading raw silk—

Sonck felt the world spinning around him.

"Impossible, this is impossible!" Sonck muttered.

Although the raw silk market was still blazing hot, the torrential influx of silk had checked the upward momentum.

The price of delivery vouchers was also climbing at an agonizingly slow pace.

Sonck's keen commercial instincts caught the faint scent of an impending collapse. He said to his secretary: "Sell—sell every delivery voucher in our hands!" Because they sold at the peak, within a few days the Dutch had earned over fifty thousand taels of silver.

The twenty-fifth day of the tenth month, the sixth year of Tianqi.

This was destined to be the darkest day in the history of the Hirado raw silk trade!

At dawn, the first dan of raw silk went unsold on the black market.

Prices dropped—still unsold.

By morning, the price of raw silk began to loosen like snow on a mountaintop. At first the decline was not fast: 320 taels, 315 taels, 288 taels... But as no one stepped in to take the lots, panic spread through Hirado at lightning speed.

By afternoon, the major merchants openly violated the itowappu monopoly system, dumping their hoarded raw silk onto the market. In an instant the market was flooded with silk—and there were no customers at all!

Only then did the great merchants realize with a shock that Hirado's silk-weaving merchants, along with the sericulturists and small and medium artisans, were nearly all dead.

Some had changed trades because they could not obtain raw silk; others had sunk their entire fortunes into the delivery voucher game, only to be reaped by the daimyo and the Dutch working in concert. Their faint death throes were completely drowned out by taiko drums, fireworks, and Noh theater—becoming the nourishment of Hirado's prosperity.

At last, retribution had come.

In a single day, the price of raw silk plummeted from 320 taels to 133 taels—a drop of 58 percent.

And the delivery vouchers, as financial derivatives, fell even more horrifically—in one day they became worthless paper, a drop of 100 percent.

This was no literary rhetoric; the value had simply gone to zero.

Raw silk was priced at 133 taels on the market and still falling—no one would possibly pay 180 taels to take delivery anymore.

Based on the vouchers the merchant convoy had already received, there were at least ten thousand dan worth of vouchers still in circulation.

Assets totaling nearly 800,000 taels of silver evaporated into nothing in a single day!

The next day, the Dutch trading house was a scene of utter ruin.

They had hoarded the most vouchers, so their losses were the heaviest.

The Dutch lost not only all their capital and all their profits—they even lost the trading house and the warships.

Because those two had been pledged as collateral for loans from the Matsuura family.

Even the fifty-odd thousand taels of silver the Dutch had earned by selling at the voucher peak did not belong to them—that was all the creditor's asset. After half a year of turmoil, the Dutch Hirado trading house had lost everything, left with only a waist-high pile of delivery vouchers—a stack of worthless paper!

And the hatred of Hirado—indeed, of all Kyushu.

Sonck stood in the trading house office and looked out. Beyond the perimeter wall, over a thousand soldiers had gathered.

They were Matsuura's men, come to collect the debt.

Surrounding the soldiers were over ten thousand Hirado commoners. These people were ordinarily courteous and polite, but now every one of them raised torches and hoes, shouting at the top of their lungs, their faces twisted with fury like asuras.

The Dutch had manipulated delivery vouchers and profited too many times, until everyone felt that the Dutch had stolen their money.

In the Japanese view, 800,000 taels of silver had evaporated from the market—that money could not simply vanish into thin air; it must be with the Dutch. Sonck trembled all over and roared through gritted teeth: "Fools—a pack of fools! We've all been duped by the Ming men!"

Behind him, his secretary hurried over: "Director, the fleet is ready."

Sonck turned and took one last look at the trading house. Once he left, there would likely never be a Dutch trading house in Hirado again.

Fortunately, there were still fifty thousand taels of silver aboard the ship. Since they had decided to leave Hirado, there was no need to repay Matsuura Takinobu.

Sonck strode toward the docks, past piles of ash and paper along the way—soldiers burning documents.

After stepping outside, Sonck looked back at the trading house building and gave the order: "Burn it—don't leave it for the Ming men!"

The Dutch trading house stood near a deep-water harbor, and all four warships were anchored in the port—no need to board at Hirado's own harbor.

Outside the wall, the Japanese soldiers and commoners saw the Dutch boarding ships to flee, and their fury erupted. Shouting, they charged the wall.

On the wall, the Dutch were retreating toward the ships, igniting barrels of gunpowder as they left.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Explosion after explosion blasted along the trading house wall. The cast-iron cannons atop the wall were thrown over, and long sections of the wall collapsed.

Dozens of civilians who had drawn near were buried beneath the rubble.

Outside the wall, the Matsuura soldiers were thrown into chaos.

Seizing this window, the Dutch soldiers inside the trading house quickly boarded the ships.

As the Banker weighed anchor and raised sail, the trading house's three-story brick-and-timber building caught fire as well. Dry firewood had been laid inside in advance; the flames raged wildly, and tongues of fire soon licked out from the first-floor windows, scorching the building's white exterior walls black.

Thick black smoke rose into the sky.

"It's over... it's all over..."

Gazing at the flames of the trading house, Sonck could not stop his tears.

Since 1609, the Dutch had maintained their trading house in Hirado, standing firm through countless hardships—outlasting the English, defeating the Spanish and the Portuguese.

Outside the trading house stood walls and a harbor; within were office buildings, warehouses, residences, and a hospital—built like a small town.

Who could have imagined that it would not be destroyed by mighty ships and cannons, but uprooted with ease by a single small piece of paper—the delivery voucher!

Sixteen years of wind and rain, the ambitions of successive directors, the East India Company's commercial map of East Asia—all vanished like a dream of yellow millet, turning to smoke and ash... The Ming men's schemes—how venomous they were!

On the deck of the Banker, Sonck was sobbing uncontrollably.

The four yachts had sailed over two thousand paces out, and the trading post had shrunk until it was nearly invisible—only black smoke still rose straight into the sky.

Sonck choked out between sobs: "Set course due south. We're going to the Ryukyus."

"Aye, course due south!" the first mate bellowed the order.

With the trading post lost, they had nowhere else to go. They could only sail for the Ryukyus first, resupply there, then follow the coast of East Ning Island southwest and return to Batavia. As for what awaited him after that—dismissal, or a court of law, or prison—only God knew.

Just then, the lookout shouted: "Enemy fleet off the port bow!"

Sonck wiped the tears and snot from his face and pulled out his spyglass to look.

There, far off in the strait between Kyushu Island and Hirado Island, a fleet had come into view.

The outer ring of the fleet consisted of over twenty sekibune and kobaya boats, with one atakebune at the center—its signature high freeboard and the castle tower on its upper deck made it look like nothing so much as a sitting duck.

At first Sonck only found it strange, but when he realized the purpose of this fleet, he felt an inexplicable humiliation.

Those stupid Japanese monkeys actually thought they could stop a Dutch fleet with such a shabby navy?

Given the speed of Japanese sea vessels, there was absolutely no way they could catch Dutch ships.

But the strait was too narrow, and the Japanese had planted themselves squarely on the route the Dutch had to take to sail south.

Sonck had just suffered an investment failure and been forced to abandon the trading post—his spirits were already at rock bottom. Now, humiliated by these Japanese monkeys, hot blood rushed to his head, and he no longer cared about escape routes or consequences.

"Fire on the enemy at three hundred paces!" Sonck said through gritted teeth.

On the Banker's sterncastle deck, signal pennants fluttered. The four yachts formed a line, sailed to the proper distance, turned hard to port, presented their starboard sides to the enemy, and ran their cannons out through the gunports.

The Japanese fleet was still rowing forward.

Sonck's eyes were icy cold as he said flatly: "Fire!"

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen