Chapter 211: The Adrenaline of Hoi An Harbor

Ye Yifan said, "My brother-in-law is an upright man, strict in governing his troops. He doesn't squeeze blood from his soldiers, doesn't pad the payroll with ghost soldiers, and doesn't take bribes."

"He devotes himself entirely to serving the people, not hesitating to spend his entire family fortune. Though he enjoys the profits of maritime trade, he still has to go into debt to make ends meet. Such noble righteousness truly earns this grandson's admiration. My second brother and I have a bit of idle wealth that serves no purpose keeping it, so we bought 'Nan'ao Bonds' with it — consider it our way of sharing our brother-in-law's burden."

Ye Yisun said, "Exactly so! Our brother-in-law is a man of honor. He would rather borrow money through public notice than ask us, his in-laws, for help."

"So my elder brother and I discussed it and decided to simply buy 'Nan'ao Bonds' to support our brother-in-law, while also not causing him to lose face."

"Grandfather, you may punish me and my elder brother for this, but once we reach Nan'ao, you must not make a fuss about it and let our brother-in-law find out."

Ye Xianggao said with exasperation, "How to conduct oneself in the world — do I need you to teach me?"

"Yes." Ye Yisun obediently stood at attention.

After a moment, Ye Xianggao reached out his hand and said, "That so-called bond — let me have a look."

The two each took several sheets of paper from the cabinet by the bedside and handed them to Ye Xianggao.

The bonds were printed on mulberry bark paper, in black and red, double-sided printing, with clear type and intricate patterns.

In the center of the bond was written "one tael," and in small print along the edges were the bond rules, repayment date, interest rate, and so forth.

The two bonds together amounted to a full ten taels of silver.

Ye Xianggao glanced at the small print on the bond and read aloud, "Half-year interest, one fen of silver."

Ye Yisun said with righteous conviction, "My elder brother and I didn't buy these for profit. We've already agreed that even when they mature, we won't redeem them."

Ye Xianggao's brow relaxed, and he felt quite gratified inside.

His two grandsons, though rash in their actions and a bit too sharp-edged, had good intentions at heart after all.

Ye Xianggao said in a low voice, "Where does one go to buy these bonds?"

"Zhangzhou, Quanzhou, Fuzhou... basically anywhere there's a newspaper office, there's a bond issuing point. Presumably there are some on Nan'ao Island as well... However, the rules on these bonds state clearly that they cannot be redeemed before maturity..."

Ye Xianggao said, "Who asked you to redeem them? Once we're on Nan'ao Island, when you have free time, help this old man buy some as well."

The two brothers exchanged a glance, and Ye Yisun said happily, "In that case, this grandson will thank you on behalf of our brother-in-law."

Ye Xianggao returned the bonds to the two and instructed, "Our family's purchase of bonds must not be broadcast once we're on the island, and once at the Lin residence, you are not to pry recklessly into the household's affairs."

Ye Yisun patted his chest and said, "Grandfather, rest assured — we're not children anymore."

Ye Yifan clasped his hands and said, "This grandson understands."

Ye Xianggao rose and returned to the stern cabin.

Seeing him enter, Lady Yu said in a stiff tone, "The wind is strong on deck — have some hot tea to warm yourself."

Ye Xianggao said, "How much silver did we bring on this trip?"

Lady Yu said, "The household accounts are all managed by Qin. What — has something happened?"

Ye Xianggao sat down at the table and said, "Perfect. Call her and Ye Heng over — I have something to say."

Lady Yu summoned a matron to fetch her daughter-in-law and granddaughter.

Shortly after, the two pushed open the door and entered the ship's cabin, offering their greetings.

Ye Xianggao asked, "How much silver did we bring aboard this voyage?"

"I heard that expenses on Nan'ao Island are considerable, and since we're bringing the whole family, this daughter-in-law brought a bit more this time — over fifty taels."

"Set aside half of it to buy 'Nan'ao Bonds.' We'll economize while on the island." As Ye Xianggao spoke, he took out the newspaper, placed it on the table, and explained the matter of the Nan'ao Bonds.

Finally, just as he had instructed his grandsons, he told the two not to talk recklessly or pry once they arrived on the island.

Qin said, "Father-in-law, rest assured. Once we're on the island, this daughter-in-law will send someone to buy them."

Lady Yu looked worried: "Only buying twenty-odd taels' worth — I wonder if that's enough. Since we're staying at the Lin residence, we shouldn't need much silver anyway. Perhaps we should buy more." Ye Xianggao shook his head and said, "Ziyuan is a meticulous and sharp-witted man. If our spending on the island is too frugal, it will actually tip him off. If we want to buy more, we can wait until after the Lantern Festival, once we're back in Fuqing."

"Mm, my lord's considerations are sound." Lady Yu agreed.

A day later, the Ye family's Fujian junk docked at the pier of Houjiang Bay on Nan'ao.

Lin Qian personally came to the pier with Ye Zhen and the servants to welcome them.

After greetings were exchanged, Lady Yu looked at Ye Zhen and chided, "You've barely finished your month of confinement and you're already running about outside — you should be resting properly."

Ye Zhen laughed and said, "Barely finished my confinement? Your granddaughter finished her confinement a month ago. If I stayed cooped up at home any longer, I'd be bored to death."

Lady Yu said urgently, "Pah pah pah! Don't say such inauspicious things. Come, let's go back and see our precious great-grandson."

The pier at Houjiang Bay was only four or five li from the Lin residence — a distance Lin Qian could normally walk with ease.

But since the Ye family were honored guests, a carriage had been specially prepared.

By this time, the elders and the womenfolk had boarded the carriage, while the two brothers-in-law still stood where they were.

Lin Qian said, "Please, get in the carriage?"

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Ye Yifan said, "I hear your residence isn't far. My brother and I will walk there instead — it'll give us a chance to enjoy the scenery along the way."

The two of them had the twenty-five taels of silver Qin had given them tucked in their clothes, and they carried a mission with them — naturally they needed to act on their own.

Lin Qian suspected nothing, so he instructed Geng Wu to leave a few personal guards behind, then returned to the residence.

The moment Ye Xianggao and the others arrived at the Lin residence, they couldn't wait to see their great-grandson.

Ye Zhen said to a servant, "Have the wet nurse bring Yuan'er here."

Shortly after, the servant brought the child over. Lady Yu smiled so wide she couldn't close her mouth, saying over and over, "Oh my, wonderful — just wonderful. Fair and plump, with a fine tigerish head — truly splendid."

Ye Xianggao said joyfully, "The Ye family has an heir."

Qin reminded him quietly, "Father-in-law, this child's surname is Lin."

Ye Xianggao said, "He is still flesh and blood of the Ye family."

Ye Xianggao and Lady Yu took turns holding the child, utterly delighted.

Qin walked over to Ye Zhen's side and looked her over from head to toe. Seeing that her daughter hadn't lost weight but instead looked well-complexioned, she finally felt at ease.

Everyone played with the child until lunchtime.

The Lin household's meals had always been exquisite, and with honored guests visiting, they were prepared with even greater care — a true feast.

The members of the Ye family exchanged silent glances, inwardly moved that the Lin household, though living on borrowed money, would still entertain them so lavishly.

After lunch, the two brothers-in-law returned from outside and, meeting their mother's questioning gaze, nodded slightly.

In Lin Qian's view, the two had simply been wandering about and missed lunch, so he had the kitchen prepare a separate meal for them.

New Year's Eve.

Celebrations on Nan'ao Island were especially fervent—the continuous din of firecrackers was deafening, making it nearly impossible to hear one another speak. For the New Year's Eve feast, Lin Qian had the kitchen cook in Fuzhou style: Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, Peace Pigeons, sweet cakes, red-fermented chicken, whole-head silver carp, and steamed vermicelli with red pupae—not a single dish omitted.

Hotpot and dumplings were also served, the emphasis being on a balanced spread.

Apart from the main household, the servants and personal guards each received the same New Year's Eve feast.

A New Year's Eve dinner naturally needs everyone eating together to be lively—there was no reason for the masters to dine while servants and guards looked on empty-handed.

Moreover, everyone in the household was someone close to Lin Qian. Surface gestures could only buy surface loyalty; if one wanted stability and longevity, the most important thing was to treat people with sincerity.

Once a master has been master too long and stops treating his subordinates as people, that simply will not do.

If you don't want servants to strangle you by the neck, you can't emulate the Jiajing Emperor.

Of course, this approach had its drawbacks—servants taking shifts to eat their New Year's Eve dinner meant a shortage of attendants, leaving the household somewhat flustered. Fortunately, the personal guards operated under military discipline, rotating their watches to keep the residence secure, and that was enough.

Lin Qian's leniency naturally suited Ye Xianggao's temperament, yet seeing the household short-handed made him read a different meaning into it. He hesitated several times to offer counsel but, considering it was New Year's Day, held his tongue.

After the New Year's Eve dinner, the family stayed up to see the old year out, with the two brothers-in-law and Ye Heng busy setting off firecrackers.

Ye Zhen, meanwhile, sat drinking tea and chatting with her mother and grandmother.

The servants and guards who had no duties played paper cards, dominoes, and backgammon.

With nothing else to do, Ye Xianggao noticed a set of glass Go pieces in Lin Qian's residence and took out a few stones to toy with in his hand.

The stones numbered in the hundreds, nearly identical in size, thickness, weight, and color. Held up to the lamplight, one could see scattered bubbles within, tinged with a greenish cast—the quality was not perfect.

Yet even this was extremely rare.

Legend had it that Zhu Tan, the tenth son of the founding emperor of the early Ming, styled "Prince Huang of Lu," had owned a set of glass Go pieces in his lifetime—a treasure beyond compare, so precious it was buried with him in death. Who would have thought that in Lin Qian's residence there was a set of glass Go pieces only slightly inferior to Prince Huang of Lu's, casually left in a corner of the flower hall to gather dust? Whether Lin Qian was short of money or not, Ye Xianggao suddenly couldn't tell.

"These pieces were made by the glassworks—the craft isn't mature yet, so only this grade of inferior goods can be produced. Grandfather must find this amusing." Lin Qian remarked from the side. The principle behind glass production wasn't complicated—it was just heating sand.

The difficulty lay in finding suitable pure alkali plant ash and pure quartz sand, controlling the ratio between plant ash and quartz sand, controlling the firing temperature, and preparing clarifying agents—from knowing the principle to being able to fire usable glass required crossing formidable technical hurdles.

Just as knowing the principle of the steam engine is boiling water, or that electricity generation is cutting magnetic field lines—going from knowing to actually using it is as hard as reaching heaven. This was also why Lin Qian offered astronomical wages to the glassmakers of Macao.

Unfortunately, Europeans of this era guarded their glassmaking techniques jealously. One could buy glass products, but trying to poach technical talent? Not a chance. Lin Qian could only allocate funds to build his own glassworks and grope his way forward.

This set of Go pieces was the product of that glassworks—in the eyes of Ming people, this was liuli, comparable to jade and jadeite!

In Lin Qian's eyes, the stuff wasn't worth a glass bead—utterly worthless.

Of course, Lin Qian had no intention of selling the stuff either, because the market was extremely narrow.

The princes paid for liuli because it was rare, not because liuli itself was anything remarkable.

It was the same principle as why few people buy lab-grown diamonds for engagement rings.

Ye Xianggao examined the stone in his hand and thought to himself: "Even this counts as inferior? Besides, firing liuli requires mica stone—does Nan'ao Island even produce such a mineral?"

He knew Lin Qian had many channels and resources, so he couldn't be bothered to think further.

Ye Xianggao was passionately fond of Go, and upon seeing the glass set, he couldn't restrain himself. Pulling Lin Qian along, he said: "Very well, shall we have a game by hand and word?" Lin Qian: "Ah? I don't know how."

Ye Xianggao grabbed a handful of stones and laid them on the board, saying: "No matter—let's start with a nine-line board. This old man will teach you. Go is simple: just like this, surround on four sides and you capture; capture more and you win. It's that simple. Come on."

Compared to the full board, nine-line Go emphasizes calculation over layout, so Lin Qian picked it up quickly. After being slaughtered by Ye Xianggao for a dozen or so games, he gradually managed to trade blows.

Amid games and fireworks, the world quietly stepped into the sixth year of Tianqi.

At Hoi An harbor, the New Year's Eve atmosphere was extremely thick—firecrackers louder than even Guangzhou city.

Just looking at the firecrackers lining the streets and the people walking door to door offering New Year's greetings, no one could guess this place lay beyond Ming territory.

Hoi An's festival celebrations were so grand not only because of the great number of Fujian merchants, but also for another important reason: the "Zheng He Fleet" had returned—and it had come bearing treasure ships.

Last winter, to deal with Li Dan's attacks, Lin Qian had not sent the fleet to call at Hoi An, causing that year's trade volume there to plummet.

Even without the siege by the Trinh Lord's navy, Hoi An's merchants had endured a miserable time.

Fortunately, this year the fleet had returned, and everything was looking up.

The Ming goods brought by the treasure ships flooded Hoi An's streets within a short time.

Whether porcelain, medicinal herbs, paper, brushes, books, or bronze ware, iron pots, umbrellas, straw mats—or tea, dried persimmons, pickled and salted vegetables—the moment the Zheng He merchant fleet arrived, prices all dropped, triggering a frenzy of buying among merchants and commoners alike.

Among all the goods, crude sugar and porcelain were the most astonishing.

The area around Chiqian and Madou-she, governed by Chen Jiao and his wife, now boasted over twenty thousand mu of sugarcane fields, producing annually twenty-five thousand-plus dan of white sugar, along with brown sugar and crude sugar.

According to the sugar trade principles between Hoi An and Hirado, crude sugar and brown sugar were both sold to Hoi An.

This single trip earned one hundred thousand taels of silver just from selling sugar!

It forcibly drove down the price of sugar in Hoi An by two qian per dan.

Unlike Hirado's raw silk, crude sugar was a genuine bulk commodity with an enormous market, its price difficult to influence through scattered transactions.

The drop in sugar prices showed that the "Zheng He Fleet" had in fact virtually monopolized Hoi An's external crude sugar trade.

For Hoi An's common folk, falling sugar prices were a good thing.

During the time the Zheng He fleet was docked, every household grew sweeter.

At the same time, all the European merchants in Hoi An were going mad over another commodity: blue-and-white porcelain.

In Europe, this blue-and-white porcelain from the East bore a more famous name: "Kraak porcelain."

In 1604, the Dutch seized the Portuguese merchant ship "Kraak," and when the blue-and-white porcelain it carried appeared at an Amsterdam auction, it caused a tremendous sensation—from then on, "Kraak porcelain" became synonymous with blue-and-white ware.

The batch of blue-and-white porcelain brought by the Zheng He merchant fleet was all produced at the Zhangzhou kilns, made purely for export, with patterns and vessel shapes designed entirely to European tastes. The Dutch used commercial methods to define Kraak porcelain as a luxury good aimed at the middle class and affluent citizens, carrying commodity attributes of investment, socializing, consumption, and fashion.

This move maximized the market while ensuring maximum profit.

One could say, buying it meant profiting.

Thus the European merchants of Hoi An began frantically grabbing up this batch of Kraak porcelain.

But as they snatched and fought, the European merchants realized something was wrong—the porcelain on the market seemed endless, impossible to buy up completely!

The blue-and-white porcelain brought by Zheng He's fleet on this voyage numbered nearly three hundred thousand pieces—a cargo volume comparable to three "Kraak" ships.

For Europeans, buying Kraak porcelain was profit the moment it changed hands—and for Lin Qian and the merchants of the Zhangzhou kilns, was it any different?

Driven by profit, the Zhangzhou kilns fired with all their might; the kiln workers wished they could skip eating and sleeping just to keep working.

The flames of the kilns barely went out all year. Had it not been for the raw materials supplied by the Dongning charcoal works, who knows how many mountainsides in Zhangzhou would have been stripped bare. The common folk often joked that the weather over Zhangzhou Prefecture had been warmed a few degrees by the kilns themselves.

Under the dumping of Zheng He's trading fleet, porcelain procurement in Hoi An shifted from competing over speed of purchase to competing over depth of capital.

Put simply: whoever had more money could buy more.

The winner was, without question, the Dutch.

As vast quantities of silver flowed back, Lü Zhou and He Sai began sweeping up goods across Hoi An.

First was teak—nearly all the air-dried teak on the market was bought out completely.

Next came pepper, rock sugar, rhino horn, ivory, and other trade goods, all purchased according to the cargo space calculated on He Sai's ships.

Because the fleet's carrying capacity was enormous, even though these trade goods were bought according to plan, the effect was nearly that of buying out the entire market.

However, a capitalist's pursuit of profit knows no end. He Sai looked at the goods that had to be abandoned because the holds were stuffed full, and still felt it was a tremendous waste.

More than once he went down into the whale ship's cargo hold, instructing the sailors on how to pack goods into every nook and cranny.

Such instruction often ended with the sailors pleading with grimacing faces: "Stuff any more and the ship will sink for sure!"

Tran Van Dinh in the court of the Nguyen Lord had, two years prior, built a teak mill on Lü Zhou's advice.

But last year, Zheng He's fleet never came, and the stockpiled teak went almost entirely unsold—he was mocked for a whole year.

This year, he had completely turned things around—all his teak was bought out, his wealth skyrocketed, and he now walked through the Nguyen court with his chest puffed out. In short, the arrival of Zheng He's fleet was like injecting five shots of adrenaline into Quang Nam—Hoi An harbor, its heart, was stimulated into pumping blood for dear life.

Silver, spices, teak, and porcelain flowed rapidly between different peoples and different ships, changing hands frequently, brimming with vitality.

And of all the people there, the one who felt worst was the Englishman Victor.

Two years prior, by promising to build ships and cannons for the Nguyen Lord, he had obtained a trading post—enough to let the English establish a foothold in Hoi An harbor.

He had thought he could break into Southeast Asia from there, qualified to compete on the same stage as the Dutch, the Spanish, and others.

But reality was far too cruel.

Victor's proud technologies and schemes were nothing but a joke in the face of enormous capital.

Faced with three hundred thousand pieces of Kraak porcelain—even if the Dutch weren't competing, and he were given free rein to buy—Victor could only manage fifty or sixty thousand pieces.

There was only one reason: no money!

The lack of capital was not only Victor's shackle—it was the terrifying curse of the English East India Company he belonged to, of the entire Stuart dynasty, and of all England itself.

At this time in England, King James I had recently passed away, and the nation was rapidly stepping out from the glory of Elizabeth I.

Due to multiple causes—the influx of American silver, the crown's reckless spending, and more—England found itself in an awkward position of fiscal scarcity, severe inflation, and sharp social contradictions.

Charles I had barely ascended the throne when Parliament entered into fierce confrontation with him over taxation.

In short, all the various domestic contradictions revolved around the pound sterling.

That was why the crown supported the East India Company's exploration into Southeast Asia, hoping to claim a share of the spice and porcelain trade.

It could be said that the English East India Company's thirst for gold, silver, and goods was a hundred times stronger than Dracula's thirst for blood. And now, seeing mountain-like piles of trade goods laid out before him, Victor couldn't eat because his capital was limited—and he had to watch his competitor, the Dutch, gorge themselves.

This was truly more agonizing than having Victor killed with a single blade.

If this were Europe—even on the west coast of India where the English East India Company had influence—Victor would not hesitate to apply to his company's higher-ups. Even if he had to rob, he would seize this cargo.

But this was Hoi An harbor—the sphere of influence of the Great Ming's treasure fleet.

The Ming merchants had only eight merchant ships, yet six escort warships guarded them—guarded even more tightly than the Spanish treasure fleet—there was simply no way to fight them.

After several sleepless nights, Victor reflected deeply and decided to cooperate with the Ming people.

"Cooperation" was just a pretty word. Victor held no cards in his hand at all—this so-called cooperation was, frankly, surrender. In the English understanding, the Ming placed great importance on the tributary system.

As long as he could offer benefits, becoming a vassal state to the Great Ming was, in Victor's view, nothing unacceptable.

And so, on the third day of the new year—

At the Fujian trading post, Bai Qing, Lü Zhou, and others were chatting idly with visiting Fujian merchants when suddenly the gatekeeper reported that an English barbarian had arrived bearing gifts, coming to "pay New Year's respects."

Everyone was baffled.

Bai Qing looked at Lü Zhou: "You know him?"

Lü Zhou shook his head, then looked at the surrounding Fujian merchants—all wore blank expressions.

Bai Qing said: "Call Old He over. Let's see what this English barbarian is really up to."

A moment later, the gatekeeper invited Victor inside. Seeing all the Fujian merchants sizing him up, he set down his gifts and, clasping his hands in the barely-learned, clumsy Southern Min dialect, said: "Respected elders and countrymen, happy new year."

Everyone found his accent and etiquette neither one thing nor another, and couldn't help but find it amusing.

But as the saying goes, "you don't strike a smiling face"—they didn't make things difficult for him, and clasped their hands in return, inviting him to sit.

Victor knew the Ming people spoke with subtlety and indirection, so he played along, making idle chatter and avoiding the main topic.

As a result, everyone present was even more confused about why Victor had come.

By this time, He Sai had returned from outside the compound. Hearing Victor's full London accent, he muttered disdainfully: "Another heathen!"

Bai Qing had He Sai communicate with Victor, and only then did they understand the man's purpose.

After much discussion, Bai Qing said: "Whether we cooperate with England or not isn't for us to decide. Go see the Helmsman."

"Helmsman?" Victor repeated in confusion, thinking to himself: "Isn't the ruler of the Great Ming called the Emperor? And the next rank of official called Governor-General? What sort of position is a Helmsman?"

Bai Qing explained.

Victor said with difficulty: "Sailing to the northeast—that would mean waiting three or four months for the monsoon."

Bai Qing smiled mysteriously: "No need to wait for the wind—though you'll have to endure some hardship."

At dawn on the Lantern Festival.

At the Governor-General's residence, Lin Qian was eating tangyuan with his family.

Ran Qiu entered and pressed a document into Lin Qian's hands, saying in a low voice: "Master, the gatekeeper received an urgent dispatch by falcon ship."

Lin Qian set down his chopsticks, opened the official document, read it through once, then smiled and said: "Ranqiu, prepare some good tea for me."

Lin Qian added: "Also prepare white sugar, cow's milk, and gauze, and bring them all to the main hall."

At these words, everyone looked at him strangely.

Preparing good tea was for receiving guests—that was perfectly normal.

But what was the white sugar and such for? Was there anyone in the world who added sugar to their tea?

Wasn't that wasting the tea leaves?

Yahei

Pearl

Pen