Chapter 253: The Complete Treatise on Agriculture and the Flintlock

During the New Year period, Nan'ao Island was decked with lanterns and colored banners, extremely lively.

With the development of productive forces and rising incomes for the common folk, the festive atmosphere on Nan'ao Island grew even richer. Islanders visited relatives and friends, everyone wore new clothes with smiles on their faces, and the streets and alleys were filled with the aromas of wine, meat, and fried fish.

It was as if the Little Ice Age, floods, droughts, and wars—all those tragic affairs—were far away from the island, as if the world had always been this way and never changed. On the first day of the first month, officials of all ranks under Nan'ao's jurisdiction came to the Lin residence to pay New Year calls, each carrying gifts, the most conspicuous of which were Chaozhou tangerines. This year's Chaozhou tangerine harvest was bountiful—large and round, piled up in orange-red mounds like a basin of charcoal fire, looking extremely festive.

So many people came to pay their respects that the entrance hall, guest rooms, and every other space were completely filled, forcing them to set up a dedicated waiting area outside the residence.

Lin Qian sat in the main hall, watching the stream of officials of every rank. Even with his knack for remembering names, by the end of the day his eyes were still dazzled. As his territory expanded, government authority grew, and the bureaucratic apparatus kept expanding—many mid- and low-level officials were people Lin Qian had never met. When he encountered those who came from the prefectures of Fujian and Guangdong, he would ask a few questions about people's livelihoods and governance.

By the end of the day, it was all good news.

He Kai, who was in charge of the bank, reported while paying his New Year respects that bank savings had exceeded one hundred thousand taels, loans exceeded twenty thousand taels, and the annual turnover of remittance bills was over five hundred thousand taels.

For Fujian and Guangdong, this scale was nothing remarkable, but it was a good start.

If it continued to develop steadily, the lubricating effect of finance would become ever more apparent.

In the evening, Zheng Zhilong also came to pay his respects. The moment he entered, he said with a smile: "Helmsman, this younger brother knew you'd have a crowd during the day, so I deliberately chose to come at night. If I've been discourteous, I hope you won't take offense."

Lin Qian rose to receive him: "Now that's speaking like an outsider. Come inside and sit. Ranqiu, have the kitchen make the evening meal a bit more lavish."

Zheng Zhilong exchanged pleasantries with Lin Qian for a moment, then sat down, took a sip of tea, and said: "Helmsman, I didn't come empty-handed either. I have two pieces of good news—one from Water Chenla, one from Guangzhou. Which would the Helmsman like to hear first?"

The moment he heard those two places, Lin Qian already had a guess: "Has Academy Head Xu's agricultural book been published and printed?"

Zheng Zhilong was slightly surprised—Lin Qian, with a myriad of affairs to handle daily, could still remember the publication date of the agricultural book. That was truly no small feat.

He had his subordinate present the agricultural book, saying: "Academy Head Xu is advanced in years and not easy to travel, so he entrusted me to bring this gift along." Lin Qian saw that the agricultural book consisted of over thirty volumes, stacked nearly two feet high. In the Ming Dynasty, such a massive work could absolutely be called a monumental masterpiece. Lin Qian casually picked up one volume—about the size of a modern magazine—and on the cover were written the words "Complete Treatise on Agriculture."

Flipping open the table of contents, it contained sixty volumes in total, covering agricultural fundamentals, field systems, famine preparedness, agricultural implements, sericulture techniques, and so on.

From discussing the importance of agriculture, to analyzing agricultural policies and institutions, to staple grain cultivation, fruits and vegetables, cotton and hemp planting, medicinal herb cultivation, forestry, animal husbandry, aquaculture, and primary agricultural product processing—it encompassed nearly everything.

The four characters "Complete Treatise on Agriculture"—not a single one was wasted.

Lin Qian roughly flipped through it—from printing to materials, everything was top-notch.

White cotton paper, pine-soot ink, court-style calligraphy, Huizhou woodblock prints, three-color printing—the only thing missing was binding it in bright yellow brocade.

The text was crisp and clear, and the illustrations had fine, even lines that balanced strength and grace. For the agricultural implements depicted, front views, top views, side views, and perspective views were all included, done with meticulous care.

For the effect illustrations, they might as well have printed the fuzz on a bee's body.

What slightly surprised Lin Qian was that in the preface to the Complete Treatise on Agriculture, Xu Guangqi had thanked everyone who had helped fund the book's creation, especially writing at length about Lin Qian's various forms of assistance.

However, the writing was fairly restrained, summarizing Lin Qian's contribution as: "Spared no expense in gold, vigorously aided in surveying and analysis, for which I am deeply grateful."

Apart from the preface, on the flyleaf, there was also a handwritten dedication by Xu Guangqi.

Its language was far more emotionally charged, addressing Lin Qian as "Lin, the Gentleman of Profound Depth," speaking at length of the joy of finding a kindred spirit and expressing gratitude for his compassion for farmers and aid to agriculture. It was clear that Academy Head Xu had been quite sentimental when writing this dedication, using words such as: "The virtue of Lin, the Gentleman of Profound Depth, extends not only to me alone, but truly to all the people of the world; not only to the present age, but also to future generations... Moved to the point of sorrow, words cannot express it." Such praise was more than Lin Qian dared to accept. As he flipped through, Lin Qian asked: "This set isn't cheap, is it?"

"This set is the deluxe edition, ten taels of silver per set; there's also a simple edition for only three taels, and individual volumes can be sold separately, which is even cheaper." Lin Qian said: "Is this book already on the market?"

"It's currently for sale in Guangdong. The Government Affairs Office is preparing to print it in Fujian and Dongning as well. As for whether to print and distribute it in the interior of the Great Ming, we await the Helmsman's instruction."

Lin Qian said: "This is a matter that benefits the people of the world. One cannot keep it private for oneself and forget the public good."

"This subordinate understands." Zheng Zhilong said with a solemn expression.

The Complete Treatise on Agriculture is a treasure for all the people of Huaxia. To hoard it privately merely for the sake of fame and profit, letting the common folk of other provinces starve to death, would be utterly lacking in virtue. The Great Ming's accumulated ills run deep—loyal ministers, good generals, sound governance, and wise policies—the Great Ming has plenty of them. Do the powerful and privileged use them?

Is what the Great Ming lacks a book on agriculture?

Whether this book is distributed in the Great Ming or not will have almost no effect on the timing of the Great Ming's downfall.

Academy Head Xu's original aspiration of using this book to make the Great Ming rich and strong was destined to come to nothing.

But using this book to free the people from hunger—that can be done.

Lin Qian asked: "What's written in the book—has it been tried and put into practice?"

Zheng Zhilong said joyfully: "This is precisely the second piece of good news this subordinate wished to report to the Helmsman. The Special Agricultural Reclamation Company's dry-season rice yielded a surplus of 49,100 dan." Counting the previous wet-season rice, Water Chenla's agricultural output achieved double cropping in a single year. Rice and sweet potatoes combined for a total harvest of 195,100 dan. That was equivalent to a year's grain ration for 65,000 people.

It might not sound like much, but put another way, it could keep 65,000 people from starving to death in a famine year and allow them to continue participating in production.

In an instant, it became a boundless act of merit.

And this was only the first year—the Agricultural Reclamation Company's manpower, animal power, and irrigation infrastructure were all insufficient, which somewhat limited per-mu yields.

By next year, even if the immigrant population didn't grow, output could still rise further.

Zheng Zhilong said: "In Water Chenla's first year of land reclamation, given the local level of agricultural development, double cropping in a single year was originally impossible.

Thanks to the fact that when reclamation began, Academy Head Xu's Complete Treatise on Agriculture was already mostly compiled—the volumes on water management, land reclamation and cultivation, and famine preparedness were all completed. When the company went to seek guidance, Academy Head Xu sent his apprentices in person to Water Chenla to provide instruction—only then did we achieve today's results."

According to Zheng Zhilong's account, the major reclamation zones had built large numbers of dragon-bone waterwheels. This type of waterwheel resembled a screw pump, suitable for irrigating large tracts of farmland, saving labor, and capable of both drawing and draining water—well suited to the local climate with its two distinct seasons.

The book's chapter on land reclamation contained clear records of how to burn off vegetation, deep-plow, green-manure, harrow, and sun-dry the soil clods.

There were also complete records on rice seed selection, sowing methods, transplanting timing, dry-field rice cultivation, crop rotation systems, and base and top dressing—with Xu Guangqi's apprentices providing hands-on instruction.

The Agricultural Reclamation Company appeared to be engaged in the most primitive farming, but in reality it was applying cutting-edge technology for highly efficient production.

Even more remarkable, the Complete Treatise on Agriculture also recorded a great number of wild vegetables, which allowed the company to transfer large quantities of grain away without any worry that local famine would starve people to death.

After all, if yields truly dropped, people could still dig wild vegetables to survive.

If Zheng Zhilong hadn't had a sense of famine preparedness, he would have counted the wild vegetables toward the immigrants' grain rations and squeezed out even more food.

With the theoretical guidance of the Complete Treatise on Agriculture and the successful practical experience of Water Chenla, the next step was to carry out large-scale agricultural technology reform within the three provinces' territory.

In the future, more and more people within Huaxia's borders would be spared from starving to death. Not only might they survive the Little Ice Age with minimal losses, but in the more distant future, there might even appear a scene of abundant non-staple foods.

A beautiful era when everyone could afford pork stewed with vermicelli lay just ahead.

Lin Qian was lost in such reverie for a while when Ranqiu came to report that dinner was ready. Lin Qian invited Zheng Zhilong to go eat.

At the same time, he instructed: "I'm in a good mood today—open a jar of aged Shaoxing huadiao wine!"

Zheng Zhilong laughed heartily: "Tonight I'm in for a treat!"

The next morning, Lin Qian rose on time.

That aged huadiao was indeed extraordinary—sweet and fresh, mellow and rich, with a long lingering finish, extremely smooth.

Waking up this morning, he not only felt no dizziness or heaviness in the head, but instead felt refreshed in spirit and warm in body—this was what wine merchants often called the effect of "harmonizing the blood and moving the qi."

On the second day of the new year, there were still many guests arriving at the door, and both Lin Qian and Ye Zhen were busy receiving them.

Among the assembled guests, Lin Qian spotted at a glance Huo Ying, the guild head of Foye, who was standing with several guild members among the various high-ranking officials, looking somewhat ill at ease.

Seeing him from afar, Lin Qian called out, "Master Huo, please come sit over here."

A host of senior officials turned their gazes toward him, making Huo Ying feel both flattered and nervous. He clasped his hands in apology to those around him and came before Lin Qian.

First he offered New Year's greetings, then said he had brought a gift for Lin Qian and asked to present it to the guard.

It was a rectangular brocade box nearly six chi long. Lin Qian had already roughly guessed what it was, and his heart gave a leap.

Geng Wu took the box and opened it.

Inside lay a firearm — to be precise, a flintlock musket. Its firing mechanism faced upward, gleaming dazzlingly in the sunlight like a work of art.

Geng Wu inspected the barrel and touch hole — clean, with no powder loaded.

With so many eyes and ears around, it was not a good place to handle it. Lin Qian said, "Come with me to the study."

The group entered the study, and Huo Ying and the other craftsmen all marveled at the furnishings.

Lin Qian took the musket from the box, rubbing and examining it.

The musket was slender overall, with preliminary ergonomic design. In appearance it was now indistinguishable from the most classic Brown Bess flintlock. Its firing mechanism was exceptionally smooth, radiating a captivating metallic luster, and a polished piece of Qingzhou stone had already been placed in the flint jaws.

Lin Qian opened the frizzen, set the stock against his shoulder, aimed at an empty spot, cocked the hammer, then pulled the trigger.

The hammer fell, the Qingzhou stone struck the frizzen — with a sharp crack, a shower of sparks visible to the naked eye flew out. At the same time the powder pan cover flipped open, and several sparks dropped steadily into the priming pan.

Lin Qian reset the powder pan cover and hammer, thoroughly satisfied.

Seeing the ignition go smoothly, Huo Ying breathed a sigh of relief and introduced from the side: "This musket measures four chi five cun in total length, with a three-chi barrel, half-cun bore, four-qian ball weight, and three-qian powder charge.

Within forty paces it can pierce heavy armor; within eighty paces it can pierce bone and flesh; beyond a hundred paces its power begins to diminish."

He then pointed to the bayonet in the box: "The bayonet is one chi three cun long."

With the bayonet attached, the musket reached five chi eight cun, slightly longer than the Foye Type 01 matchlock musket.

The ball weight and powder charge had also both been increased.

The musket body was correspondingly heavier, but the overall design emphasized weight reduction, minimizing heft while balancing the distribution.

Huo Ying said, "Not counting the bayonet, this musket weighs nine jin eight liang in total."

Lin Qian carefully inspected the firing mechanism and asked, "How is the ignition rate on this musket? Have trial firings been organized?"

"Fired a hundred times, misfired over forty. Only the few craftsmen who worked on this musket have test-fired it; large-scale trials have not yet been conducted."

Lin Qian nodded. This misfire rate was slightly worse than the historical Brown Bess flintlock — there was still room for improvement.

But the flintlock was simple to ignite, unlike the matchlock, which required re-blowing the match to life after a misfire.

With a flintlock, one only needed to close the powder pan cover, re-cock the hammer, and pull the trigger again.

After two consecutive misfires, the probability dropped to sixteen percent — an acceptable level.

As for aiming, it hardly mattered; what counted was maintaining the rhythm of fire.

The flintlock's greatest value lay in allowing soldiers to form dense ranks and use the bayonet-fixed musket as their primary weapon, vastly enhancing close-combat capability. Line volley tactics persisted in history for over two hundred years, and the Brown Bess flintlock went over a hundred and fifty years after its invention without major modification — that was proof of its worth.

"What does this musket cost to produce?" Lin Qian asked.

The guild's accountant answered: "Reporting to the Helmsman, not counting powder and lead shot, each musket costs twenty-two liang five qian to make." As he spoke, the accountant drew a cost breakdown list from his breast.

The cost items were arranged from highest to lowest.

The most expensive item was the barrel — made of wrought iron, requiring much material, and demanding hand forging, welding of seams, and boring, all time-consuming and labor-intensive. Moreover, the flintlock's ball and powder charge were both larger, requiring more material and thus more labor cost.

Next was the lock mechanism — trigger, mainspring, frizzen, screws — each requiring different craftsmanship, and all purely handmade. After that came the ramrod, wooden stock, and scrap costs.

The accountant said, "Foye has only trial-produced ten of these flintlocks; the process is not yet smooth. Once production scales up, costs can be spread thinner." Lin Qian recalled something: "Have the craftsmen who made the mainsprings and frizzens been paid their silver?"

The accountant said, "They have. Per the Helmsman's instructions, each of the two craftsman households received ten thousand liang. Beyond those two items, three more of Foye's thirty-five challenges were overcome — improving the puddling method, making long drill bits, and forge-welding rolled tubes — with a total of twenty-three thousand liang in silver awarded."

These were all necessary prerequisite technologies for making flintlocks, and all were improvements built upon existing Ming technologies.

They had achieved the flintlock's transition from nothing to something.

But from something to excellence, from handcraft to mass production, there was still a considerable distance.

As for the foundational areas of the technology tree — refractory materials, blast upgrades, shaft furnace improvements, plus water-powered trip hammers and water-powered boring mills — all were under development, though none had achieved substantive breakthroughs.

Foye still used the crude method of thickening the large shaft furnace to smelt gray cast iron. The gray iron produced this way was costly and inconsistent, but at least it did not hold up subsequent production.

Technological progress — especially progress in foundational technology — was just that difficult.

It was like firing cannons: a gunner fed enough shells could become a crack shot.

But feed him ten thousand rounds, and if he could not calculate a shell's trajectory, he simply could not.

Without a scientific foundation and scientific thinking, relying on nature and gut instinct, testing bit by bit — it truly was harder than reaching the heavens.

A thought struck Lin Qian. Counting the days, in nine months the students of Civilization University would enter their third year and choose their specializations. Students in the engineering and machinery track could very well go to Foye to study.

Students would gain a practical training ground, teachers could serve as the technological engine, and Foye would act as the technology incubator, turning technology into industry. Three forces twisted together, concentrating their efforts.

Wasn't this an ancient version of an "industry-academia-research base"?

With the backing of these talents — the ones in all of the Great Ming who most revered science — Foye's technological progress would surely accelerate greatly.

At this thought, Lin Qian had Ran Qiu record the idea for deliberation and execution at the Nan'ao Administrative Office after the New Year.

Then Lin Qian said to the Foye accountant, "Go to the warehouse and collect the deposit shortly. Foye will first produce two thousand flintlock muskets."

The order was not large — after all, this was a new weapon without large-scale field testing, so caution was wise.

"Helmsman, there are still over ten thousand Type 01 matchlock muskets on order that haven't been finished," Huo Ying said.

Lin Qian waved a hand: "Delay the matchlocks. Work overtime and get the flintlocks made first."

He paused, then said earnestly, "Master Huo, Foye has earned a fair amount of silver over the past year or two, hasn't it? It's time to expand production and raise output."

Huo Ying smiled bitterly. He had the will, but Foye's ownership was fragmented — expanding production was up to each furnace household, and the guild could only guide, not compel. Lin Qian listened without commenting, then instructed: "Tell Zheng Zhilong to have the Agricultural Reclamation Company send someone to escort Master Huo back."

"Yes." Geng Wu acknowledged.

When Huo Ying arrived at Qianjiang Bay Pier, a man was waiting beside his boat.

Seeing Huo Ying approach, the man clasped his hands in greeting: "I am Liu Bo, confidential secretary of the Civil Affairs Department of the Chartered Company, ordered to escort you back."

Huo Ying felt a slight puzzlement, not understanding what game was being played, but he smiled on the surface and greeted the man before boarding the ship.

After departing from the dock, the vessel sailed southwest along the coast. Large stretches of farmland could be seen on the shore, and several villages were setting off firecrackers, the festive atmosphere thick. Secretary Liu hosted a banquet in the cabin and invited Huo Ying to sit with him. Midway through the meal, he remarked with emotion: "Master Huo, look at this shoreline—now it's a scene of prosperous farming country. Five years ago, the coastal villages were nothing like this."

Huo Ying quickly replied: "All thanks to the helmsman's capable governance."

Secretary Liu set down his wine cup and pointed out the window with a smile: "If I told you that entire stretch of fields is the private property of Squire Zhao, and the whole village are his tenant farmers, what would Master Huo think of that?"

Huo Ying was stunned. He looked out the window and saw that the farmland was laid out in neat ridges, paddy fields and wheat fields clearly demarcated, with waterwheels and irrigation channels all sensibly arranged. On closer inspection, it truly did look like the land of a single household.

Secretary Liu took a sip of honey wine: "Pawnbroking, famines, family misfortunes... these are all reasons why common folk sell off their land.

Even if the great households don't resort to those filthy tricks of fraudulent transfer, concealed registration, and coerced donation, they will naturally annex land all the same.

The way of man—taking from those who have too little to enrich those who have too much—is roughly like this.

Nan'ao only surveyed and measured the fields but did not forcibly redistribute them. Does Master Huo know why?"

Even though Huo Ying did not work in farming, he knew that land annexation was a path to national ruin. He shook his head in confusion.

Secretary Liu said with a smile: "The world all knows that a well-governed age requires curbing annexation, yet they don't know that annexation also has its benefits.

Popularizing improved seed strains and farm tools, demolishing redundant field ridges, preventing land from being left fallow, and centrally building and maintaining water conservancy—these are things only great households with connected fields can accomplish.

In Water Chenla, the company produced large quantities of grain rapidly exactly this way.

As for the calamities of annexation—so long as one strictly prohibits monopolies, sets limits on land holdings, strictly forbids changing the use of farmland, and properly resettles and retrains displaced farmers, disaster can be avoided to the greatest extent.

Director Zheng often teaches us that to suppress the development of productive forces for the sake of maintaining the stability of the superstructure is to grasp at trifles and abandon the essentials—committing the error of avoiding contradictions and pursuing absolute stasis.

If you want everyone to eat their fill and wear warm clothes, if you want all people to live good lives, relying on revering antiquity and restoring the well-field system won't do." These words seemed to be about land, but as Huo Ying heard them, he picked up a different meaning.

Wasn't this saying that Foye, if it wanted to raise production efficiency, also had to seek change and innovation?

When Foye was under Ming rule, its output, raw materials, and products were all strictly constrained by the authorities.

A single furnace household had at most ten people, with meager capital and slow technological progress. The industrial chain was deeply fragmented, viciously competitive, severely homogenized, with low labor efficiency and poor resilience against risk.

All these various ills were almost identical to those of the small-peasant economy.

This kept Foye trapped in a vicious cycle of low-level repetition.

Although Nan'ao had abolished various malpractices of the Ming after taking power, habits passed down over centuries were not so easily done away with.

Huo Ying dared not, and did not know how, to tackle this kind of fragmented property rights.

While he was lost in thought,

Secretary Liu had already begun explaining in detail the methods by which Ming dynasty landlords annexed land.

This explanation went on for a full four hours.

And this was only a rough overview of the legal methods. The gray-area methods could take another eight hours to explain, and as for the completely illegal methods, those were simply too numerous to count.

This was wisdom accumulated by landlords over a thousand years—indeed, not something that could be fully explained in a short while.

But even just those four hours were enough to make Huo Ying's mind suddenly clear.

His heart surged with agitation, yet he also felt somewhat uneasy. He simply cupped his hands and asked: "May I ask, sir—were those words the helmsman's intentions?"

"Hahahaha..." Secretary Liu was taken aback for a moment, then laughed so hard he rocked back and forth.

Huo Ying's hands hung frozen in midair, at a loss.

Secretary Liu laughed until tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. He picked up the wine jug and poured for Huo Ying: "Enough of other matters. Come, let's drink."

On the sixth day of the month, at the Nan'ao General Staff Headquarters, all of Nan'ao's senior military leadership had assembled, except for those commanding troops abroad.

The General Staff Headquarters was located at Shen'ao Harbor, established on the foundation of the former Nan'ao Regional Commander's yamen, surrounded on all sides by military camps.

At this time, the smell of firecracker smoke had not yet dissipated within the camp, yet the atmosphere in the conference room was extremely grave.

The Naval Chief of Staff was standing before a map, analyzing the situation in the Nanyang.

... At present, the Nan'ao military forces occupy three territories—Water Chenla, Patani, and Luzon—and more than half of the entire South China Sea shipping routes are under our control...

As he spoke, he drew a circle on the map, enclosing two-thirds of the South China Sea within it.

"The Spanish probably won't be able to stir up trouble within a year or two—let's set them aside for now.

Of the remaining powers in the Nanyang, ranked from strongest to weakest, there are the Dutch, Mataram, Toungoo, Aceh, Siam, and so on.

The Naval Staff believes... there are two main directions of attack for the future Nanyang campaign.

First, an overland offensive against Siam, to subjugate the bountiful Chao Phraya River granary.

Second, a naval offensive against Aceh, to open up the Malacca shipping route and establish a maritime trade link with the Mughal Empire."

The Naval Chief of Staff then elaborated on the general concepts of both plans—the manpower, material resources, and time required.

Unlike Jiaozhi and Chenla, Siam and Aceh were no soft persimmons. Both were regional powers, and both were rising in national strength—not the kind that could be easily defeated by one or two thousand men.

Of course, in the Nanyang of today, there were plenty of countries weaker than Aceh and Siam—Johor, Banten, Brunei, and so on.

The Navy Department's plan merely treated the two as hypothetical adversaries; it was not about sending troops to destroy their nations right away.

As for the greatest hypothetical adversary, the Dutch—since their disastrous defeat in the "Delivery Voucher" campaign, they had made no moves and maintained a period of peace with Nan'ao. However, the Naval Staff had not forgotten this most powerful enemy; every plan took the Dutch into account.

This was also the reason Nan'ao's navy had dispatched its full force when attacking Patani—to guard against a sneak attack by the Dutch.

The real world is not web fiction; villains don't progress from weak to strong, coming one by one to feed themselves to the protagonist.

If not handled carefully, perhaps some simple operation might provoke the Dutch into a desperate all-or-nothing full-scale surprise attack.

Nan'ao's three provinces had a thin foundation—if the fleet suffered a heavy blow, recovery would be nearly impossible.

After hearing the Navy Department's plan, it was the Army Department Chief of Staff's turn to step forward.

An orderly came forward and replaced the map on the screen. The new map was centered on Fujian and Guangdong, showing the four neighboring provinces.

The Army Chief of Staff took the pointer and tapped lightly on Guangzhou, cutting straight to the point: "Since ancient times, to defend Guangdong one must defend Guangxi.

The Xi River, the upper reaches of the Pearl River, runs through the entirety of Guangxi, and four of the five great passes of Lingnan lie on Guangxi's borders.

Without Guangxi, Guangdong would have its doors thrown wide open, with no natural defenses to hold.

If we can take Guangxi—first, we can link coastal defense with land defense, greatly reducing pressure on our forces. Nan'ao would then have Guangdong and Guangxi as its hinterland, and the large numbers of newly stationed troops and garrison forces could be easily redeployed.

Second, Guangxi's Wolf Soldiers are unmatched in the world, especially skilled in mountain and jungle warfare. If Nan'ao gains them, it's like a tiger gaining wings; if the Ming court loses them, it's like losing an arm. Third, Guangxi is rich in minerals—tin and lead are both essential for casting cannons and shot. Taking it would further lower the production cost of Nan'ao's firearms."

Fourth, the Ten Thousand Great Mountains of Guangxi abound in ironwood—the finest ship timber of the southeast, extremely hard and tough, resistant to rot and insects. The Guangxi-built ships use ironwood as their raw material, and now that Nan'ao's teak supply is insufficient, ironwood makes an excellent supplement.

Fifth, Guangxi's karst caves are rich in saltpeter earth, and there are also vast tracts of abandoned plains and basins that can be developed for farming—all goods that Nan'ao is sorely lacking." Lin Qian sat in the seat of honor, drinking tea in silence. The various benefits of conquering Guangxi had long been clear to him; the reason he had never raised it was, first, that he did not wish to break the tacit understanding with the Ming court.

Second, to stir up the muddy waters of the southwest, there was one extraordinarily formidable figure one could not circumvent—Zhu Xieyuan.

In history, this man was a top-tier military and political all-rounder who, by his own efforts alone, brought an end to the She-An Rebellion.

Without this man, the Great Ming might not have lasted until the Chongzhen era—it would likely have been dragged down long before by the two-front wars in the northeast and southwest.

Zhu Xieyuan's military and political style was extremely steady. He did not gamble everything on one decisive battle, nor did he suffer any nationwide-shocking defeats—only steady, step-by-step advancement. Before he took office, the southwestern rebellion had already spread like wildfire, and the Great Ming stood on the brink of collapse.

After he took office, he forcibly stabilized the situation and ruthlessly snuffed out the rebels' arrogant flames.

As the saying goes, the truly skilled warrior wins without glorious feats. It was precisely because he was so capable that his pacification of the rebellion lacked all dramatic flair, which in turn left him little-known in history. As luck would have it, this top-tier powerhouse was now, of all times, the Governor-General of the Five Southwestern Provinces.

Guangxi lay squarely within his jurisdiction!

Yahei

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