Chapter 237: Water Chenla: Pirates Swept Clean

The Candle Dragon fleet underwent simple repairs at Hook Cape Shipyard.

Five eagle ships and three hundred army soldiers remained behind to garrison the leased territory, while the rest of the marines returned to Nan'ao with the fleet.

On the day of departure, Zheng Hongkui and a group of student soldiers stood at the side of the Candle Dragon, watching the morning sun rise in the direction of Manila, their hearts full of emotion. Zheng Hongkui felt his body brimming with strength—bullying common folk was nothing compared to the thrill of teaching those barbarians a lesson. This was the life he wanted! He turned to look at the high-flying shield-and-halberd flag, and felt genuine pride in being a sailor of the navy.

Bailangzai gave the order: the fleet would return to Nan'ao Island.

The Candle Dragon, having suffered only light damage, did not return to Nan'ao but instead sailed directly northwest, crossing the South China Sea, bound for Hoi An to carry out its next mission.

On the tenth day of the twelfth lunar month, after weathering two storms, the Candle Dragon arrived at the coast.

Zheng Hongkui stood at the port side, gazing toward the shoreline.

All he could see was a low, hazy coastline where endless mangroves and marshes stretched into the sea, the boundary between land and water indistinct, with several turbid yellow rivers pouring into the ocean.

Looking further into the distance, his view was filled with an endless green plain, and a mountain range faintly visible on the horizon.

Above, the sky was a vast, clear blue, with thick clouds drifting by, pregnant with abundant rain.

Sailing along the coast, he occasionally spotted crude docks along the rivers, as well as scattered villages of stilt houses.

Rice paddies and vegetable plots dotted the wilderness here and there, farmers in conical hats working in the fields, while egrets and crocodiles floated on the river not far from the field edges—a scene of agriculture and savagery colliding and interweaving.

This scenery was utterly different from Manila Bay, and Zheng Hongkui's eyes were opened wide.

A cadet came up beside him and said, "Those two storms blew us way off course—we've ended up right around Water Chenla. We're heading north to Hoi An now."

Zheng Hongkui thought to himself, so this is Water Chenla?

He took a deep breath; the air was thick with the smell of salt water, mud, and rotting vegetation.

The cadet said, "I hear Director Zheng is in Hoi An too—you brothers can reunite."

Zheng Hongkui was greatly surprised and asked, "Brothers? How do you know Zheng Zhilong is my brother?"

The cadet burst out laughing. "How could we not know? Everyone knew from your very first day on board."

"Oh..." Zheng Hongkui fell silent.

While the student soldiers were sizing up the shore.

On the Mekong River delta plain, countless pairs of eyes also took note of this massive warship.

Blackmast Makutu's men, hidden in the mangrove swamps, discussed the meaning of the shield-and-halberd flag.

It was neither the Europeans' cross flag nor tricolor, nor the Great Ming's flame flag. The pirates could reach no conclusion and decided to report the matter up the chain. At Baphuon, the sacred site of ancient Khmer, the Siamese noble Nakhon, upon hearing his subordinates' report, ordered immediate inquiries made at the Dutch and Portuguese trading posts.

He also ordered the Chenla royal army to tighten control over the lower Mekong.

Northeast of the Mekong, on the border between Champa and Chenla, Nguyen Van Loc of Quang Nam received his subordinate's report, and the hand holding a chess piece froze in mid-air. The Candle Dragon sailed north for several days and finally arrived at a bustling major port.

Standing at the rail, Zheng Hongkui saw the scene before him and felt as though he had returned to Quanzhou. The instructor said to the cadets, "This is Hoi An harbor."

Han culture had deeply influenced the people of Quang Nam, so their architecture, clothing, and culture were highly convergent with those of the Chinese southeast.

The moment the Candle Dragon docked, its towering hull and ornate sterncastle drew countless stares.

Within an hour, most of the harbor's population had gathered, marveling at the vessel. Quick-thinking peddlers set up stalls at the best vantage points, as if the ship were a famous scenic attraction.

On deck, the helmsman relayed the order: the Candle Dragon would remain anchored at Hoi An for several days, during which the crew could go ashore in shifts.

The crew erupted in cheers.

While the helmsman emphasized shore discipline and the duty roster, Bailangzai was already leading a squad of guards toward the gangplank. He stopped in front of Zheng Hongkui: "You're coming along."

"Yes, sir!" Zheng Hongkui answered loudly.

He followed Bailangzai down the gangplank, walked a short distance along the dock, and arrived before an imposing grand mansion.

Above the main gate, amid swallowtail ridges and glazed tiles, hung a huge plaque reading "Fujian Trading House."

At the entrance hung a couplet:

"Sails spread on whale waves, ten thousand li of cloud roads reach foreign lands

Heart anchored to home soil, a thousand years of faith and honor build a mercantile foundation"

At the entrance, a crowd was already waiting—mostly white-haired old men dressed as merchants in extremely luxurious attire, each evidently a person of considerable standing.

Yet now they could only stand to the side, their bearing humble and deferential.

At the center of the crowd by the gate, Zheng Hongkui saw many familiar faces—all senior officers of the Nan'ao Navy, including Bai Qing, Lü Zhou, José, and others. His eldest brother Zheng Zhilong and second brother Zheng Zhihu were among them as well.

Zheng Hongkui's heart stirred with emotion, but he strictly observed discipline and did not step forward to greet them.

After the navy high command exchanged pleasantries, they entered the trading house.

Zheng Zhilong deliberately lingered at the rear, and only when most people had gone inside did he take a look at Zheng Hongkui.

Seeing that his fourth brother had grown more muscular and his skin darker, he said, "Not bad—you're starting to look like a soldier.

Brother Bai tells me you've done well on the Candle Dragon, and haven't tarnished the Zheng family name."

Zheng Hongkui grinned foolishly and scratched his head, then asked, "Big brother, second brother—you're not with the merchant convoy, so why are you in Hoi An?" Zheng Zhilong put on a stern face and lectured him: "In the military, what you ought to know will be told to you. What you're not told, don't go prying into."

Zheng Hongkui had been scolded plenty by instructors and boatswains along the way, so he answered by reflex: "Yes, sir!"

Zheng Zhilong smiled and said, "You little rascal. I've got a lot of official business these next two days—you and Ermang find your own fun."

"Sure thing." Zheng Zhihu replied.

With that, Zheng Zhilong walked into the guild hall.

Zheng Zhihu then took Zheng Hongkui to find a restaurant on the main street. The Zheng family of Quanzhou had long handled maritime shipping and was enormously wealthy, so when the brothers ordered food and drink, they never looked at the prices. Once a full table of fine food and wine was set before them.

Zheng Hongkui could finally contain himself no longer and asked, "Second brother, why are you here too? Did you join the navy as well?"

"No." Zheng Zhihu waved a hand. "Your second brother joined the army instead—I've been training at Fenshui Pass all this time and only just got out. Big brother originally wanted me to go to some army officer academy, but I'm not cut out for book learning, and since there happened to be fighting here, I came along." The moment Zheng Hongkui heard about fighting, his spirits lifted. With the food and wine now fully served, he launched into the story of the Battle of Manila.

Among the brothers, eldest brother Zheng Zhilong excelled in both letters and arms; second brother was fierce and brave but poor at studies, which earned him the nickname Ermang. Third brother Zheng Hongkui loved wielding blade and spear, but with his quick wits, he was no slouch at his books either.

Now, as he recounted the Battle of Manila, quoting classics and gesticulating with animation, he made his second brother green with envy.

The second brother raised a cup of wine, drained it, and said, "Damn it! Commander Lei fought too fast—Qiongzhou and Lianzhou fell as well, and the Guangdong fighting has basically died down. It's left me a hero with no place to prove his worth. If I'd known, I'd have joined the navy like you."

Zheng Hongkui said, "Third brother, didn't you just say there was fighting to be had here?"

Zheng Zhihu was taken aback. "Did I?"

Then he recalled, smacking his head in frustration, and lowered his voice: "Fine, since it slipped out anyway, no harm in telling you. We're only days from setting out regardless. Do you know Water Chenla?"

Zheng Hongkui nodded—the Candle Dragon had sailed all the way up from Water Chenla to the north.

Zheng Zhihu looked around, lowering his voice further: "It's a good place! Can grow grain, and... uh... in short, a good place... The Siamese, the Khmers, the Nguyen of Guangnan—all of them have their eyes on it. How can that be allowed?"

Zheng Hongkui said: "Second Brother, aren't the Khmers the kingdom of Chenla? They were originally the rulers of this land—can that be called coveting it? We're the ones coveting it."

Zheng Zhihu was taken aback again: "Is that so? Anyway, Siam, Chenla, and the Nguyen are all no good. If we don't want to be bullied, we must send troops!" Zheng Hongkui laughed: "Exactly, let's do it!"

While the two brothers drank freely in the tavern.

In the main hall of the Fujian trading post, the high command of the Nan'ao force was holding a secret meeting.

A massive sand table dominated the hall. To the northwest stretched the Baphnom Mountains; on the southeastern plain, the Mekong's tributaries spread like a spider's web—this was a terrain map of Water Chenla.

Triangular flags of different colors were planted on the sand table.

The Nguyen's power lay to the northeast, while Siam and Chenla's forces sat near the northwestern mountains.

Among them, the small flags representing Han Chinese villages were sparsely scattered along the Hau River (the Mekong's southwestern seaward branch) in the southwest.

The men gathered around the sand table. All unrelated personnel had been dismissed, soldiers stood guard around the main hall, and everyone present was one of Lin Qian's confidants.

Bai Qing spoke rather bluntly: "The helmsman says Water Chenla is a fertile land, which is why so many covet it. If the Nan'ao force sends troops rashly, no matter what pretext we use, we'll easily draw resentment.

And here—"

Bai Qing swept his hand across the river-mouth plain: "This whole stretch is forest and swamp. Governing it would cost a fortune, and holding it would be even harder. To spend less silver, you'd have to fill it with lives. The Nan'ao force is a righteous army—we can't do such things.

So we need to find others to do it. The helmsman calls such people proxies."

Zheng Zhilong took over: "In terms of population, the Khmers are the most numerous in Water Chenla, and they do have some military forces, mostly stationed around Prey Nokor. Only problem is, these people are now Siam's lackeys."

Historically, the Khmer kingdom of Angkor had once been very powerful, ruling over the Siam region for a time.

Later, Angkor declined and Siam's Ayutthaya dynasty rose, destroying the Angkor kingdom in the twenty-second year of Wanli.

The present Chenla inherited most of Angkor's population and territory, but politically it had basically become Siam's vassal.

"Culturally speaking, the immigrant villages along the Hau River are closest to us, especially those around Longchuan Port, which have the most strength."

Zheng Zhilong shifted tack: "However... we don't have many troops on this trip, and the Nan'ao force's reputation on the Indochinese Peninsula isn't well known. These natives and immigrants fear the Dutch more than they fear us.

Without guns in hand, our words carry no weight. How can we mediate disputes and win over proxies?

So I think we should first strike the mountain to frighten the tiger—show them what we can do."

Zheng Zhilong reached out and tapped the sea southeast of the Mekong's mouth: "There's a pirate chief on this island called Makutu, nicknamed 'Black Mast'—a mixed-blood bastard.

This fellow has several dozen swift boats and nearly a thousand men under him, serving as the Siamese's enforcers. His power is considerable.

He's lecherous and cruel—both the Han and the Khmers nearby fear him. He's perfect for making an example of."

Bailangzai said: "The Candle Dragon has heavy guns but is too big to hunt sea bandits. Did we bring the Sea Wolf ships on this trip?"

Zheng Zhilong laughed: "Brother Bai's kills have all been big fish like Governors-General and Commodores—wouldn't killing sea bandits dirty your hands?

Give the junior officers a chance to earn merit. Er Mang begged me for a long time just to get in on this kill."

It was nearing year's end.

The Chinese village of Longchuan Port was preparing for the New Year.

The clan chief's house was especially festooned with lanterns and decorations, joyous in appearance—red double-happiness characters pasted on lanterns and door frames alike.

Yet neither the masters nor the servants wore joyful expressions.

For the clan chief's legitimate daughter had been forcibly taken as a concubine.

In the ancestral hall, the bride Liu Wan knelt before the ancestral tablets. She had been kneeling for six hours, and no one could see the expression on her face.

Clan chief Liu Shichuan sat on the threshold, sighed, and spoke with his back to his daughter: "It's been over a hundred years since your great-grandfather moved to Water Chenla. Building this enterprise wasn't easy. I can't let this ancestral legacy be destroyed.

Chenla is weak now, and the Siamese are vicious. If we don't agree to that Ma fellow... the thousand-odd lives in our village may not be safe... Wan'er, if you marry, the village will lose far fewer lives... Don't blame your father for being heartless."

After he finished, Liu Wan remained silent.

Liu Shichuan sighed, rose with a stooped back, looking a dozen years older. He turned and said hoarsely: "Wan'er, rest early. You set out tomorrow, and the road is long..."

With that, Liu Shichuan walked out.

Liu Wan called him back. She seemed to be speaking to her father, or perhaps to herself.

"When will the day come when not marrying off a daughter can still mean peace..."

Liu Shichuan heard this and said nothing. Stepping out of the ancestral hall gate, his heart heavy, he wandered aimlessly through the village.

Longchuan Port sat on a sandbar with over a thousand residents, living by farming and trade.

The village had a fifty-man watch force—already considered formidable among the Chinese villages along the lower Mekong.

With the river on one side and stockade walls on three sides, it could easily fend off small bands of river bandits.

But not to mention the three powers of Chenla, Siam, and the Nguyen lords—

Even in the eyes of that Ma fellow the sea bandit, Longchuan Port was nothing but an ant he could crush with a pinch.

Fortunately, his daughter had some beauty, catching Makutu's fancy, and he sent a betrothal gift to take her.

Even as a concubine, Liu Shichuan accepted it—at least it would buy a dozen or so years of peace.

But a dozen years later, when his daughter's beauty faded and the bandit grew tired of her, what then?

Liu Shichuan gazed at the murky yellow waters of the Mekong, frowning in thought.

"Uncle Liu!"

A shout snapped him back to reality.

Liu Shichuan turned and saw the village blacksmith's apprentice, Shi Cheng—called Stone by everyone in the village.

Behind Stone followed over a hundred villagers, every one of them armed with spears, sabers, and other weapons.

"Uncle Liu, Third Miss can't go! If that Ma fellow dares to come take her by force, we'll fight him to the death!"

Stone shouted.

As he finished, the villagers behind him roared in unison agreement.

Most of the men in this village were lads in their twenties — mostly from the watch squads, but also some farmers and merchants.

Shitou had always liked his daughter, and Liu Shichuan knew it. Had the sea bandits not come snatching people and stirring up trouble, he might well have nodded his consent to the match. But now, how could he doom the whole village to death for the sake of those two's happiness?

"Get back!" Liu Shichuan roared.

To his surprise, Shitou did not retreat at all. Instead, he stepped forward and said: "We endure when the Siamese bully us, we endure when the Khmers bully us, and we endure even more when the sea bandits bully us — when will this enduring of ours ever come to an end?

With these savages, the more we endure, the crueler their bullying becomes! Fight them! We Han are no cowards!"

The villagers behind Shitou voiced their agreement in unison.

Liu Shichuan looked through the ranks and asked: "Where's your master?"

"I heard there's a Ming fleet at Hoi An harbor. He's gone there, to beg the heavenly soldiers to come and uphold justice."

"Hah." Liu Shichuan let out a disdainful snort and said contemptuously: "The Great Ming? If the Great Ming could match the sea bandits, your grandfathers wouldn't have sailed across the oceans and left their homes behind all those years ago.

The strong devour the weak — that is simply the way of nature. Since we cannot win, we have no choice but to endure.

Only by enduring can we survive, and only by surviving can we live to see the day of revenge!"

Shitou was momentarily at a loss for words. He too knew that even if the entire village and stockade joined forces, they would be no match for that Ma fellow.

And if a revolt failed, massacring the village and burning the stockade was a common occurrence.

Just as he stood there in a daze, Liu Shichuan pointed into the distance and said in a cold voice: "Look."

The crowd followed his finger toward the river surface and saw a black speck drifting toward them from afar.

As it drifted closer, they could make out a floating corpse — dressed in Han clothing, face down, skin deathly pale, bobbing along with the river current. A moment later, a second corpse appeared on the river, then a third... until more than a dozen had floated past.

These bodies bore no wounds — most had been cut across the throat.

They had not died in combat; they had been executed.

After the corpses had drifted past for some time, a small bamboo raft floated into view. Upon it lay a body that had been sliced a thousand times — not a single patch of skin remained intact, the limbs twisted backward at the joints, and atop the corpse's head burned a fish-oil lamp.

The scene was both cruel and grotesque.

"Ugh!" Several people vomited on the spot.

"This is called lighting the fish lamp," Liu Shichuan said flatly. "That's how Ma deals with villages and stockades that don't obey."

No one answered.

He continued: "It's time to pay the winter tribute. Don't worry — when I deliver the bride tomorrow, I'll bring extra rice. Maybe, for the sake of the rice, Ma will treat her a little better."

Shitou had vomited so much he could no longer straighten his back.

Fish lamps were common on the Mekong River. In the past, whenever he saw one, his master would say it was a Khmer burial custom, that seeing it brought bad luck, and would cover his eyes.

This was the first time he had seen the victim's misery up close.

The night passed in a daze.

The next day, before dawn, Liu Wan had finished her toilette, put on her bridal gown, draped a red veil over her head, and stepped into the bridal sedan.

Shitou quietly hid himself at the rear of the bridal procession. He watched with his own eyes as his beloved entered the sedan, to be sent off as a plaything for that man-eating demon — the pain nearly drove him mad.

But now was not the time to reveal himself. The clan elder's words yesterday had awakened him: to accomplish anything, one must endure.

Shitou carried a dagger in his bosom — one he had forged with his own hands, exceptionally sharp. When he got the chance to see that Ma fellow, he would stab him dead with a single thrust!

Shitou hid among the bridal procession and moved out of the village with the rest.

Perhaps the more something is lacking, the more it must be compensated. The Liu family, for this forcibly seized marriage, had furnished an exceptionally long bridal procession with a large dowry, along with gongs and drums, dragon and lion dancers — it all looked quite splendid.

This clamor also allowed Shitou to conceal himself with ease.

The bridal procession walked past vast fields of floating rice paddies. Once the village disappeared from sight, the sound of gongs and drums quickly ceased.

The moment the noise stopped, a terrifying silence enveloped the procession.

From the front of the procession came a mocking laugh: "Hahaha, look at these lambs — they actually think they're marrying off a daughter."

Another voice said: "Anyone who doesn't want to die, get lost!"

This was spoken in Hokkien. The Zhenla region was a melting pot of all sorts — those who made a living here could speak Khmer, Cham, Malay, just about any language. Hearing these words, the bridal procession scattered like birds and beasts, fleeing back the way they came in utter panic.

Shitou seized the chance to edge toward the sedan. Drawing close, he heard his beloved's cries from within: "Big brother, big brother, don't go — I'm scared!" The eldest young master of the Liu family hesitated a moment, then said apologetically: "Little sister, take care."

With that, he flicked the reins and galloped off toward Longchuan Landing.

Shitou covered his face so the man wouldn't see him.

Once almost everyone had fled, Shitou stepped out from behind the sedan.

Five or six paces ahead stood three sea bandits, one of whom said: "Oho, we've got one who isn't afraid of death."

Shitou explained that he was a servant of the Liu household, part of the dowry.

Inside the sedan, Liu Wan heard Shitou's voice and gasped softly: "Brother Shi!"

The sedan had stopped at a river mouth, where one of the sea bandits' small boats lay anchored on the water.

The three sea bandits had been fretting over how to load the dowry onto the boat — here was free labor, so they allowed Shitou to come along.

While Shitou was hauling the rice, the three sea bandits pulled Liu Wan out of the sedan. One casually lifted her veil and teased: "Fresh indeed — look at that face."

Another urged: "Lift her skirt, let's see her feet, let's see her feet!"

Then another bandit reached for her hem. Liu Wan knew resistance was useless. She looked at Shitou, tears streaming silently down her face.

Shitou hardened his heart and turned his head away, only reminding himself over and over: endure, endure!

Unwilling to let his beloved suffer humiliation any longer, he loaded the dowry with all his strength and urged the bandits to board the boat.

The bandits piloted the boat through the waterways and marshes, soon reaching the Mekong River. Drifting downstream, they reached the river mouth within half a day. Liu Wan turned back toward the direction of home, her face streaked with tears.

The three sea bandits kept spewing filth from their mouths. Shitou kept his head low, murderous intent filling his eyes, ceaselessly reminding himself to endure.

They sailed southeast across the sea for a day.

At dawn — no, at dusk — a great island appeared between sea and sky.

The leading bandit boasted: "That's Kunlun Island — the largest island in the world."

As the boat drew nearer, a rumbling sound came rolling across the water. The smug smiles on the three sea bandits' faces froze instantly.

The three exchanged a glance, and without a second thought, set full sail and raced at top speed toward the island.

Moments later, a horrifying scene unfolded before their eyes.

In a harbor ahead, over thirty swift vessels were engulfed in flames.

The great fire nearly formed a solid wall of blaze, burning the evening clouds an even deeper red.

Silhouetted against the firelight, countless figures were locked in slaughter on the docks and along the shore.

To call it a battle would be inaccurate — it was one side butchering the other, an extremely bloody scene, carried out with utter ruthlessness and not a moment's hesitation. Out in the nearshore waters, over twenty Ming sea-cang ships prowled about, and any vessel attempting to flee the harbor was mercilessly raked with fire from the Folangji ship cannons.

The sight left the three sea bandits momentarily stunned.

The sea bandit standing at the rear was about to speak when a hand suddenly clamped over his mouth — then a dagger plunged into his back.

Shitou's face was twisted with savagery; his left hand gripped the bandit's mouth and nose like an iron vise, while his right hand twisted the dagger with all his might. The sounds of flesh tearing and blood flowing filled him with nothing but fierce delight.

Pink Round

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