Chapter 264: The Peril of Capsizing, a Matter of Life and Death

"I hear it's overseas trade..."

Qin Liangyu stopped mid-sentence, realizing she had been thinking too simply.

Overseas trade could enrich one clan or one family, but she had never heard of it enriching three provinces at once.

No matter how much grain Jiaozhi and Siam had, could they sell ten thousand shi, fifty thousand shi—could they sell a hundred thousand, two hundred thousand?

The red-haired barbarians were greedy and cunning, the Southern Ocean peoples cruel and ignorant. Could merchant ships alone really wrest silver and grain from the motley assortment of overseas savages?

No wonder the world said the Nan'ao army was invincible at sea—so this was how they trained.

In these troubled times, with natural disasters and man-made calamities one after another, every warlord and rebel harbored his own schemes, coveting the throne, plotting to seize the Nine Tripods and change the dynasty. Amid all these demons and monsters, someone was quietly expanding territory for China and spreading its might overseas?

Using what was gained overseas to nourish the people of China.

Wasn't this behavior just like Xu Guangqi compiling agricultural treatises, Governor Zhu pacifying the southwest, Qin Liangyu setting aside personal grudges to serve the state—using one's own devotion to save a troubled age?

For a moment, Qin Liangyu found herself with nothing to say.

The Nan'ao army did not harm the common people in the slightest, and had even abolished the Liaodong levy, surveyed and redistributed land, eliminated corvée labor, and reduced taxes.

Qin Liangyu naturally knew of these things, but in troubled times, which rebel did not do the same to win people's hearts?

The rebel Gao Yingxiang had even proclaimed the slogan "Kill one man as if killing my own father, defile one woman as if defiling my own mother," and wherever his soldiers went, did the people not greet them with food and drink?

Even the Jianzhou barbarians occupying Northern Zhili knew to open the granaries, relieve the disaster victims, and abolish the Liaodong levy.

Before they had firmly secured the throne, how much of this put-on posturing could be believed?

Only now, when Lin Qian revealed the source of the Nan'ao army's grain and pay, did Qin Liangyu suddenly understand.

Compared with developing agriculture, dying in foolish loyalty, or changing dynasties, perhaps Lin Qian's path of expanding territory was the true way.

As for whether overseas expansion was moral, or whether it diminished the dignity of the Celestial Empire—

Qin Liangyu cared nothing for that. She was a military commander, and the ultimate ideal of a military commander was to expand territory and win glorious victories beyond the frontier.

As for the lands thus conquered, they would henceforth belong to China, receive the teachings of rites and music, and bid farewell to their barbarian status—was that not a good thing?

Qin Liangyu had spent most of her life defending the homeland, but that was only because the enemy had already come to her doorstep; the court could barely defend itself, let alone expand. Hearing that Lin Qian harbored grand ambitions for the Southern Ocean, Qin Liangyu felt her heart stir with excitement and urged Lin Qian to tell her more.

"I hear the Southern Ocean has many islands—some large ones are the size of a Ming province. Why not seize the big islands first instead of attacking the strait?" Lin Qian had not expected Qin Liangyu to change tack so quickly. He picked up a stick from the ground and began drawing a map of the Southern Ocean.

"This is Dongfan Island, now renamed Dongning Island, already under Nan'ao's administration, with over sixty-seven Battalion Commander of commoners—all disaster refugees from Fujian and Guangdong who migrated there. Rotating officials have been appointed to govern..."

Qin Liangyu looked up toward the east, knowing full well she could not see Dongning Island, yet unable to resist confirming it anyway.

"... This is Luzon Island, currently occupied by the Spanish..."

Qin Liangyu said with hatred: "I know of this. Those savages are utterly cruel—during the Wanli era they massacred the Han people on the island!"

"Correct. In the fourth month of the seventh year of Tianqi, the Spanish even invaded Dongning, slaughtering the natives and settlers..."

Lin Qian recounted the full story of the Dongning expeditionary force and the signing of the Manila Treaty.

Qin Liangyu's breathing grew heavy, and she felt her eyes growing hot. She thought of how, during the Wanli era, the Jianzhou barbarians were no more than household slaves of Li Chengliang's family—yet decades later they were baring their claws in Liaodong.

She had spent half her life on the battlefield, dreaming of fighting a triumphant, face-saving victory against foreign foes, to display the might of the Han people.

But alas, the Ming grew weaker and weaker, foreign campaigns increasingly beyond its strength, and every battle more suffocating than the last.

She never imagined that her unfulfilled ambition had already been realized by the Nan'ao army on the Southern Ocean.

Qin Liangyu felt both gratified and regretful, with a faint trace of anticipation—a welter of emotions churning within her.

With a few strokes, Lin Qian sketched the Indochinese Peninsula, explained his strategy for Jiaozhi, and described how the Agricultural Reclamation Company was carving flesh from Zhenla and sucking blood from Jiaozhi to cultivate the Mekong Delta.

"... Counting the days, the rainy-season rice of Water Zhenla will ripen in another month. Based on projections from population, cultivated land, and growing conditions, this harvest should yield one hundred ninety thousand shi of rice and one hundred ten thousand shi of sweet potatoes, for a total of three hundred thousand shi of grain."

Qin Liangyu's eyes went wide. She confirmed: "Truly? Three hundred thousand shi of grain—that's a full year's rations for a hundred thousand people!"

Lin Qian said: "There won't be much deviation. Water Zhenla currently has three hundred eighty thousand mu of cultivated land, far from the limit of arable land." Qin Liangyu asked: "What is the limit?"

"Roughly estimated, the maximum could reach forty-five million mu."

Qin Liangyu, who had never changed expression even facing the iron cavalry of the Jianzhou barbarians, drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

Her shock was understandable—forty-five million mu of cultivated land was nearly equivalent to all of Zhejiang's farmland, and that was before even considering Water Zhenla's natural conditions and crop yields. Lin Qian had, without a sound, won back an entire Zhejiang Province for China!

If Nan'ao were truly wiped out, would those forty-five million mu of overseas farmland survive?

Qin Liangyu could not help recalling Ye Zhen's discourse on "the distinction between loyalty to the sovereign and loyalty to the Way."

If she served Nan'ao, saying nothing else, merely preserving those forty-five million mu of farmland—would that not already count as seeking blessings for all living beings, as boundless merit?

If so, would defecting to Lin Qian still count as disloyalty?

While Qin Liangyu was lost in thought—

Lin Qian's map expanded southward again. He spoke of destroying Pattani, then drew Borneo: "This is the so-called island that rivals a Ming province in size. But the island lies too far south, receives too much rainfall, and suffers severe soil nutrient loss—unsuitable for farming. It does have plenty of camphor and spices, but those are not what Nan'ao needs at present, so we have not attacked it."

Lin Qian then drew the position of the Strait of Malacca and Dutch Batavia.

Qin Liangyu said: "I still do not understand why you must attack Malacca. The maritime trade profits of Jiaozhi and Hirado are already enough to nourish the southeast. Moreover, as the General says, even if Water Zhenla's grain production proves insufficient, you could attack Siam. Why go far instead of near, to strike Malacca?" "As the saying goes, one who lacks long-term foresight will surely have near-term troubles. This matter cannot be fully explained in a moment. In five days, the Administrative Hall will hold a grand assembly, at which I will detail the reasons for this campaign. The General is welcome to attend."

"Excellent!" Qin Liangyu agreed without hesitation.

At this moment, Zhang Fengyi came to consult her: "Mother, in the battle formation, how many wolf brushes should be assigned per squad? During the Hun River battle, how did the Zhejiang troops deploy them—does Mother still remember?" Qin Liangyu said: "That depends on who the enemy is and what the terrain is like. Copying blindly like drawing a cat after a tiger—wouldn't that just be fighting a foolish battle on paper?" Then she looked at Lin Qian and said: "General Lin, does the island have horses?"

"A few dozen Jeju ponies."

"Please have them brought over." Qin Liangyu said, "When I train troops, I need warhorses nearby—the thunder of their galloping bolsters the soldiers' courage. It would be best to also bring a few cannons."

Lin Qian smiled: "That's simple." He then instructed Geng Wu to see to it.

Qin Liangyu stepped forward naturally, took up a flintlock musket, weighed it in her hands a few times, and said to her son: "This gun is too heavy—it can only be thrust forward. Your fancy flourishes are useless. And to kill in one strike, Lin... Captain Lin has packed the ranks so tightly precisely to use frontal numbers to compensate for the risk of a non-fatal shot...

Under the astonished gazes of her son and daughter-in-law, Qin Liangyu actually walked into the formation and began drilling the soldiers hand-in-hand.

Before long, the warhorses and cannons Qin Liangyu had requested were brought over.

Qin Liangyu had her son mount a horse and charge at full speed toward the flintlock formation.

Even on a short-legged Jeju pony, with a fierce general like Zhao Zilong atop it, the charging momentum was astonishing. The entire drill ground rang with Ma Xianglin's battle cries, and the horse hooves pounded dense as war drums, shaking the gravel into a faint tremble.

These soldiers had trained for nearly a year before ever touching a gun, but they had never been on a real battlefield. Seeing Ma Xianglin charging with murderous intent, clearly meaning business, quite a few were frightened and turned to run.

Within five paces, Ma Xianglin pulled the reins, and the Jeju pony skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Before him had become a no-man's-land, with soldiers hiding all around, still shaken from their fright.

"You, you, and you..." Qin Liangyu pointed at more than a dozen men in succession, "You few led the retreat; by military law, you should be beheaded!" "Boatmaster!" Zhang Moye grew anxious the moment he heard this, but dared not intercede, and could only look to Lin Qian.

But Lin Qian remained unmoved.

Then Qin Liangyu shifted her tone: "Considering this is your first offense, you will receive only ten strokes of the military cane, recorded against your names for now. If you perform well, the punishment may be waived tonight!"

"Yes." The soldiers clasped their fists in unison and returned to formation.

Qin Liangyu had her son charge once more. Ma Xianglin found the short-legged horses too weak, so he picked one slightly taller and came charging with his spear.

When Ma Xianglin charged, he could send even battle-hardened Tartar cavalry fleeing in terror.

But this time the formation barely moved. Many soldiers were so frightened they collapsed to the ground and shut their eyes, yet none dared shift half a step.

Zhang Moye exclaimed in a low voice: "Boatmaster, General Qin truly has her methods!"

Then Qin Liangyu began explaining the technique of applying force with the bayonet. She was a master of spear arts; though it was her first time handling a bayonet, she knew how to exert force, how to coordinate, and whether to thrust together or in turns when the enemy came.

When multiple enemies attacked, should one strike at a single target first, or each fight on his own?

And again, when the front rank engaged the enemy, what should the rear rank do?

All these details of formation warfare were accumulated with lives. Without experience commanding troops, one could rack one's brains and still never think of them.

Ma Chenglie's household troops were individually extremely skilled in martial valor, but when it came to large-scale formation warfare, they knew nothing at all.

Lin Qian listened with great interest on the side, thinking to himself that the Nan'ao army's former weakness in close combat was truly not undeserved.

While the soldiers drilled, Qin Liangyu also had her son and daughter-in-law gallop their horses around the field, shouting battle cries and roaring from time to time, and had the artillery fire their cannons.

The flintlock musketeers, having been startled so many times, gradually grew accustomed to it, becoming numb to the noise like veterans.

When Qin Liangyu took a rest, she walked down from the drill ground.

Lin Qian clasped his hands and said: "The White Pole Troops truly are one of the finest armies under heaven. Your methods of training troops are most original — I have learned much."

Qin Liangyu hurriedly returned the salute: "Boatmaster Lin flatters me."

"With this method of training, how long would it take to make the army battle-ready?"

Qin Liangyu pondered a moment, then said: "Your army's strengths lie in physical robustness, strict obedience to orders, and disciplined formations. But it lacks coordination between ranks, and its movements are stiff. To have even a fighting chance, you would need at least half a year — better yet, a full year."

Lin Qian said: "I fear we cannot wait half a year. In half a month, these soldiers must set out on their campaign."

Qin Liangyu said: "That is far too rushed."

"General Qin, why not take a look at the formation's volley fire."

Lin Qian signaled to Zhang Moye, who selected a squad of soldiers to step forward.

"Load!" Zhang Moye had served as a squad leader before and was no stranger to commands; moreover, the flintlock formation was densely packed, so even in two ranks the orders could still be heard clearly.

"Raise muskets!"

"Bang bang bang..."

A thunderous roar, flashes of fire, and a veil of gun smoke rose over the formation.

Not far away, the hillside serving as a target was blasted with dirt flying everywhere.

After the first rank fired, the soldiers immediately crouched down, and the second rank loosed another volley.

After a moment, the first rank finished reloading and began firing again.

After several such rotations, Lin Qian called a halt.

Qin Liangyu was somewhat astonished — this flintlock unit's frontal firepower was even stronger than the Nan'ao army she had seen on the night of her raid on the camp.

"With muskets like these, forming the army in half a month is achievable." Qin Liangyu thought for a moment, then asked cautiously: "May I ask the Boatmaster — in half a month, is this unit headed for Malacca? What does the enemy army look like?"

"The enemy is called the Sultanate of Aceh. Like the Great Ming, their forces have both strong and weak units.

The strongest among them is called the Sultan's Guard. They are full-time soldiers serving for life, all equipped with Ottoman-standard matchlock muskets of power similar to the Lumi musket, with the Malay kris as their sidearm, plus a small number of spear and halberd units.

Their close-combat soldiers wear plate-and-mail armor and chainmail; the heavy troops have steel breastplates.

Their soldiers fight with tremendous willpower — even after suffering casualty rates exceeding fifty percent, they will still continue to charge.

Furthermore, the enemy has professional artillery, and their artillery skills are extremely strong. They also have abundant gunpowder and good logistics..."

"Boatmaster Lin..." Qin Liangyu could not help interrupting, "Is this Guard truly that strong? Not routing at fifty percent casualties already marks a formidable army — and the enemy can still charge? That is simply inconceivable. They are on par with the Jianzhou barbarians' iron cavalry."

"Malacca produces no horses, and the local terrain is dense with swamps and forests, so cavalry would have no room to operate."

Qin Liangyu frowned and said: "If cavalry could be used, one might pin down the enemy's musketeers. Unfortunately, that strategy for breaking the enemy is also unavailable... Forgive this old woman for speaking plainly — the Nan'ao army is no match for the enemy. This battle is doomed to defeat."

Lin Qian said: "Not even with flintlocks?"

"Dense formations fear most being shot and bombarded. Defeat is certain." Qin Liangyu's tone sank as she thought of the four thousand White Pole Troops who had been routed by cannon fire on the Hun River battlefield.

"What if I had a way to keep the enemy from firing their guns and cannons at all?"

Qin Liangyu's eyes lit up: "Can the Boatmaster cut off the enemy's supplies?"

Lin Qian said: "The Nan'ao army never fights stupid battles."

"Then there is a ninety percent chance of victory! This old woman has an impertinent request."

"Please speak."

"When battle comes, allow this old woman to assist on the field."

Lin Qian brushed the dust from his clothes: "Life at sea is hard. General Qin has long dwelt inland; you may not be able to endure it."

"This old woman will go ride a seagoing vessel tomorrow to acclimatize."

"Very well."

"Within one month, the heavy responsibility of training this unit is entrusted to General Qin."

Qin Liangyu clasped her hands solemnly: "Rest assured, Boatmaster!"

The next day, Lin Qian led his entire family to visit Ye Xianggao.

By now, Lin Qian's brothers- and sisters-in-law had all married and long settled elsewhere, and the old couple Ye Xianggao and his wife felt lonely staying by themselves in their Fuzhou hometown. Moreover, though Ye Xianggao said with his own mouth that he would not serve under Lin Qian, he still had to manage the tax reform, manage personnel appointments, survey and measure land, balance all parties, promote officials, and relieve disaster victims — he had to manage nearly everything, which was little different from having returned to the post of Chief Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat.

So they simply moved their entire household to Nan'ao Island to live, making it convenient to handle official business and also bringing them closer to their granddaughter and great-grandson.

When Lin Qian arrived, Su Kang was just taking Ye Xianggao's pulse.

Seeing Lin Qian and his wife enter, Ye Xianggao gave a slight nod.

Lin Shaoyuan burst through the door and called out in a childish voice: "Great-grandfather!"

Smiles creased Ye Xianggao's face as he hurriedly rose, picked up his great-grandson, and said repeatedly: "Let Great-grandfather have a look — you've gotten heavier, boy!" Lin Qian looked at Su Kang.

Su Kang smiled: "The Grand Secretary's pulse is gentle and unhurried, the rhythm regular — his health is sound."

Since teaching at Nan'ao, Su Kang had devoted himself to the study of medicine and rarely took pulses or treated patients anymore.

In recent years he had thrown himself into researching malaria, making many innovations on top of Lin Qian's artemisia treatment. After publishing his writings, his fame soared; with countless disciples and followers trained under him, he had quietly earned the reputation of a leading medical authority of the southeast.

With a master of such caliber pronouncing him well, Lin Qian could rest easy.

Lin Shaoyuan sat on Ye Xianggao's lap and asked: "What does 'gentle and unhurried, rhythm regular' mean?"

Ye Xianggao tapped his nose and said fondly: "It means Great-grandfather has regained his youth!"

Ye Zhen laughed: "Grandfather, that saying of yours is quite the youth-restoring feat."

After seeing Su Kang off, Ye Zhen said: "This year is Grandfather's seventieth birthday. I want to give him a proper celebration."

Ye Xianggao grabbed Lin Shaoyuan's little arm and waved it lightly in the air: "No need for a grand affair — but there are some old friends I could take this chance to gather together with."

Ye Zhen said: "Don't worry, I'll make sure to invite all of Grandfather's old comrades."

Ye Xianggao laughed heartily: "This girl — your words grow more impertinent by the day."

Lin Qian vaguely remembered that Ye Xianggao had died of illness during the Tianqi reign, but looking at his current state, living to a hundred seemed possible. As the saying goes, since antiquity, few live to seventy — yet in Lin Qian's view, seventy was precisely the prime time for striving.

After dinner, Ye Xianggao invited Lin Qian to drink tea in the courtyard. Watching Lin Shaoyuan dash wildly around the yard while a crowd of maids and nursemaids chased after him in trepidation, Ye Xianggao wore a face full of smiles.

Lin Qian exchanged a few words of small talk, then shifted the topic to Nan'ao governance.

During the campaign against Guangxi, Ye Xianggao had essentially been overseeing the administrative hall, allowing Lin Qian to devote himself wholly to the war. Lin Qian flattered: "With the Grand Secretary at Nan'ao, it's like having a stabilizing pillar in the sea — no storm, however great, can move it."

"Hm? You want something from me?" Ye Xianggao, supremely clever, immediately caught Lin Qian's implication.

Lin Qian then told him of the impending attack on Malacca.

Ye Xianggao took a sip of tea and said: "I managed the three months of the Guangxi campaign; a few more days won't matter. Go ahead and do as you see fit." Lin Qian said: "This time is somewhat different — your grandson-in-law must lead the campaign in person."

"Lead in person?" Ye Xianggao set down his teacup, looking at Lin Qian in astonishment, his tone grave: "The rise and fall of Nan'ao rests entirely on your shoulders alone — how can you risk yourself in danger?"

Lin Qian sat up straight and replied: "Nan'ao's rise and fall hinges on maritime trade. If maritime trade is cut off, then all is lost.

Since antiquity, attacking the north from the south has been as hard as climbing to heaven; in a thousand years, only the Founding Emperor succeeded.

Your grandson-in-law knows he lacks the Founding Emperor's genius. This battle is simply to ensure Nan'ao's maritime trade never ceases."

Ye Xianggao furrowed his brow: "Is it truly that serious? Tell me in detail."

Seeing Lin Qian and her grandfather discussing serious matters, Ye Zhen rose to coax her son: "Great-grandfather has a pond in the back courtyard — shall we go look at the koi?" "Yes!" Lin Shaoyuan clapped in approval and trotted off after her.

Lin Qian took out a map from his bosom, covering all of Asia.

"At present, Nan'ao's silver flows in from Hirado and Luzon. Trade plus customs duties brings annual fiscal revenue to roughly four million taels."

That figure was nearly half the income of the Ming's Taicang silver treasury.

Lin Qian continued: "Silver alone isn't enough, so there's also goods trade with Jiaozhi, Water Chenla, Patani, and other places."

As he spoke, Lin Qian drew shipping routes on the map with his brush — Hirado, Nan'ao, Hoi An, and Luzon linked together, forming a great trade triangle enveloping East Asia.

"With these four million taels, the provinces of Nan'ao can live prosperous lives — but what comes after?

Within this great triangle, the total volume of trade is limited; four million taels is already nearing the ceiling.

In the southwest of the Chinese realm, transport is inconvenient, industries are withered, rebellions spring up everywhere — it's a fiscal trap.

In the northwest, natural disasters strike frequently, harvests fail year after year, and men like Gao Yingxiang already show signs of joining provinces together.

In the northeast, the Jianzhou barbarians' desire to destroy us never dies, and Liaodong urgently awaits recovery.

Where is Nan'ao's development to get its money and grain? From Huguang, Zhejiang, and South Zhili?

If Nan'ao attacks those provinces, the Great Ming will throw its entire national strength into the fight, the Jianzhou barbarians will seize the opening to invade, and the subjects and commoners of the Han lands will slaughter one another — letting the foreign tribes reap the benefit.

The old tragedy of the Five Barbarians' chaos must not be reenacted on the soil of China!"

To succeed the Great Ming, to revitalize the Chinese realm, to drive out the Tartar slaves, to shower grace upon all living beings.

Of the four tasks above, completing even a single one would be as hard as climbing to heaven.

And for Lin Qian to accomplish them all at once — relying on the inherent foundations of the Chinese land alone would be the talk of a madman!

That was why Lin Qian had formulated the national policy of "supplementing the land with the sea."

This vision sounded like a castle in the air. Lin Qian had never spoken of it to anyone — even Ye Zhen, his bedmate, had figured it out on her own. Now hearing it, Ye Xianggao felt as if a thunderclap had roused him from deafness. He looked at Lin Qian and smiled with gratification: "Good, good — sound reasoning, good!"

A moment later, Ye Xianggao sighed again: "But to drive out the Tartar slaves without harming the common people — how easily said?"

Lin Qian said: "Struggling at sea is like sailing against the current — if you don't advance, you fall back. The Japanese shogunate has lasted barely three generations; it is precisely at the height of national power and political clarity. The shogun is also a dragon among men — he cannot sit idly by a trade deficit of two to three million taels a year.

According to intelligence from the Hirado trading post, the shogunate has begun considering closing the country, reducing Hirado trade, and controlling the outflow of silver."

Ye Xianggao immediately felt the difficulty. Japan was to Nan'ao what South Zhili was to the Great Ming — if Japan closed its borders, Nan'ao's strength would plummet as well. Lin Qian continued: "Also, word has come from the Luzon trading post: in 1628, the eighth year of Tianqi, the Dutch captured an entire Spanish treasure fleet in the Caribbean.

The good news is that the Spanish have been badly weakened and won't retaliate over the Manila treaty in the short term.

The bad news is that more American silver will be shipped to Spain itself to make up the shortfall, and in the long run, American silver production is also declining. Meanwhile, Dutch strength has surged — the East India Company's financing costs have dropped, their soldiers and ships will grow more numerous, and they'll lean more toward violent plunder." Lin Qian pointed at the great trade triangle on the map.

"Don't forget — East Asia has treasure fleets of the same caliber."

Ye Xianggao's brow furrowed even deeper.

Lin Qian continued: "The Sultanate of Aceh is a branch of the Ottoman Empire — opponents as strong as the Europeans. If they succeed this time, with Aceh controlling the Strait of Malacca and the Dutch controlling the Sunda Strait, we will be trapped forever in the South Seas.

Within a few years, a new emperor will take the Ming throne, military pressure from Huguang and Jiangxi will surge, the Dutch will harass the southern shipping lanes without end, silver inflows from Japan and Luzon will dwindle, the trade route to the Mughal Empire will be severed, and saltpeter for gunpowder will run short — then Nan'ao, let alone defending itself, will face the danger of total collapse." Lin Qian stared into Ye Xianggao's eyes and said in a low voice: "So, Grand Secretary — while none of this has yet come to pass, this danger of collapse must be cut off at its bud.

Nan'ao's national strength is at its peak, yet this battle is one of life and death — it must be led by me personally!"

As he finished speaking, a chill wind suddenly rose, and the courtyard was filled with an air of grim killing intent.

Yahei

Pink Round

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