Chapter 274: The Fall of the King of the Malays

At the Nan'ao military camp, Lin Qian and a host of commanders were gazing toward the river mouth, watching the battle.

From the river mouth came the endless crackle of muskets, and shouts of slaughter shook the heavens.

Though the Acehnese Sultan's royal guards were valiant, they had been taken by surprise, and with their bodies weakened, they were utterly no match for the Pattani men who burned with fury to avenge their Sultana.

After the two sides exchanged volleys of gunfire for a time, they quickly came alongside and closed in for hand-to-hand combat.

The Sultan's royal guards were cut down one by one and sent tumbling into the water, but soon the Sultan himself took to the field to slay the enemy, which greatly boosted the morale of the remaining royal guards, and they actually drove the Pattani men back.

The two fleets drew apart somewhat.

The Acehnese were left with only five warships; on the decks, the Sultan's royal guards gripped their curved swords, drenched in blood—some were old men with white beards and hair, yet they still held their blades and stood guard before the Sultan.

Sultan Muda, a sword in one hand and the other pressed against his abdomen, shouted at the top of his lungs.

Lin Qian asked the man beside him, "What is he shouting?"

The interpreter was too far away to hear clearly, but in a moment a soldier ran from the river mouth to the tent and reported: "Helmsman, the enemy chieftain says that if we do not kill his men, he is willing to surrender."

"Accept it," Lin Qian said coolly.

"Yes, sir!" The soldier went back to relay the order.

Zheng Zhilong said urgently, "Helmsman, these Sultan's royal guards are extremely loyal, brave and fierce. And this place is far from our homeland—they'll be hard to settle." Lin Qian said, "I know."

Hearing this, Zheng Zhilong's heart was greatly set at ease, and he did not press the matter further.

A moment later, a soldier carried Lin Qian's order back to the river mouth, and the interpreter shouted in the Acehnese language: "The helmsman has ordered that the surrender terms of His Majesty the Sultan of Aceh be accepted!"

"Your Majesty!"

"Your Majesty, we will not surrender—let us fight them to the death!"

"We are the proud warriors of Allah—we will never surrender!"

Hearing these words, the royal guards all cried out.

Yet Muda gave a bitter smile and said, "Do not persuade me further. This disastrous defeat was caused by my errors in command, and the consequences should be borne by your Sultan. Today I, Iskandar Muda, have failed, but the ideal of founding a Malay empire must not fall with me.

You are all the elite of Aceh—live on! Carry on the empire's ideal and the hatred of this crushing defeat! One day, the Acehnese will return, and make the world tremble once more!"

Having said this, Sultan Muda spread his arms and walked slowly forward to the bow, then declared in a loud voice: "Lord Lin Qian, you are a great warrior. To have you as an enemy is a glorious thing.

This time I have failed, but I do not concede. One day, I shall do battle with you again! I will be waiting for you before the Surat Bridge!" With that, Sultan Muda turned his wrist, and a Malay kris appeared in his hand. Gripping it with both hands in a reverse hold, he suddenly drove it into his chest.

Blood sprayed forth, staining the deck of the bow a deep crimson.

The light gradually faded from the Sultan's eyes, and his imposing frame toppled with a heavy thud, slowly growing still upon the deck.

The Sultan's royal guards seemed to have all strength drained from them. They set down their weapons and knelt amid the sea of stars, weeping bitterly.

The Nan'ao forces and the Pattani army took the opportunity to close in from shore and sea, taking the remaining royal guards prisoner.

After hearing the translation, Lin Qian sighed and said, "Truly a mighty sovereign... How many prisoners were taken?"

The messenger reported, "Over four hundred."

Lin Qian said softly, "Send them all away—let the royal guards continue to follow their Sultan in the underworld."

The messenger was startled. He looked up and saw Lin Qian gazing at the stars, while Zheng Zhilong's cold stare shot toward him.

The messenger shuddered and hastily said, "Yes, sir!"

Lin Qian asked, "What of that Wei Lan from the Foreign Affairs Bureau? Have his remains been found?"

Zheng Zhilong was startled, and hurried before Lin Qian to clasp his hands and say, "Helmsman... I..."

When sending the woman's clothes to the Sultan, Lin Qian had said to find a "middleman," precisely so that none of their own men would have to die. But to ensure the provocation would work, Zheng Zhilong had taken it upon himself to send someone from the Foreign Affairs Bureau.

Zheng Zhilong had done this very discreetly, little knowing that Lin Qian had learned of it soon after.

He had not made a fuss because, though Zheng Zhilong's method was cold-blooded, it had been the right call.

When commanding armies and governing a state, one sometimes must make choices between two hardships; before the interests of state and military, morality truly carries little weight.

Lin Qian said softly, "No need to explain. I only ask about the body."

Zheng Zhilong was silent for a moment: "The body was... in any case, it can no longer be found..."

Gazing at the sea of stars, Lin Qian said, "Transmit my order: from this day forth, the city of Malacca shall be renamed Wei Lan City. Choose a quiet spot within the city, build a cenotaph for Wei Lan, erect a stele to record his deeds, and keep incense burning in his honor, so that future generations will know he gave his life for the peace and tranquility of this strait." "Yes, sir!"

For a time there was silence, until a messenger came running from the river mouth, covered in blood and grime, holding in his hands a long sword and a short sword.

"Helmsman, the enemy chieftain is dead. These two swords are his relics, along with a suit of armor, several hundred gold coins, and several robes."

Lin Qian first picked up the long sword to examine it. It was a single-handed sword, about an arm's length, with a curved blade—a typical Malay sword. The hilt was made of black coral, inlaid with diamonds, sapphires, gold, and the like.

The blade was forged from wootz steel with pronounced damask patterns, and when swung it gave off a pleasant ringing note.

Both sides of the blade bore inscriptions in Arabic.

According to the interpreter, one side bore a verse from the Quran, meaning: "O you who believe! Fear Allah as He should be feared!"

The other side read: "Iskandar Muda, King of the Malays, Sultan of Aceh."

There was still some blood at the tip of the blade—this was the Sultan's blood. It was with this very sword that he had taken his own life.

Lin Qian was highly satisfied with this trophy. He handed it to his personal guards to keep safe, to be placed in his study once they returned to Nan'ao.

The other short sword, though also exceedingly luxurious, seemed rather unremarkable by comparison.

Lin Qian handed the short sword to Zheng Zhilong and instructed, "Send someone to show this sword to the Sultan of Banten. No need to say anything more."

"Yes, sir." Zheng Zhilong took the sword.

Then Lin Qian ordered again: "Send someone to Banda Aceh and tell them to come claim the Sultan's remains, and while they're at it, discuss the terms for a ceasefire."

Five days later, the Acehnese envoy arrived at Wei Lan City from the capital, travel-worn and dusty.

Before the ship even reached port, he was stunned by the sight before him—there lay the Acehnese flagship, the Wonder of the World, quietly anchored in the harbor.

This vessel was sixty meters long, even larger than the Candle Dragon, and a rather awe-inspiring sight.

Besides this ship, over a dozen galleys lay anchored in the coastal waters, all of them heavy galleys.

These ships were too large in hull to navigate the Duyong River, so before breaking out, the Acehnese had scuttled them by piercing the hulls and sinking them in the river.

When the Nan'ao forces swept the battlefield, they casually repaired some of the less damaged vessels and transported them to Wei Lan City as spoils of war.

When the Aceh envoy stepped onto the dock, he found the spoils of war there even more astonishing—cannons, matchlock muskets, and armor were stacked in neat rows, as if the place were an arsenal.

Before breaking out of the siege, the Acehnese had sunk most of the weapons they could not carry into the river to destroy them; what remained on the dock was only the portion with lighter damage.

At this moment Lin Qian was right on the dock, casually picking up a matchlock musket to examine it.

Bai Qing beside him said, "This is a matchlock musket of the Sultan's Janissary Guard. According to the prisoners, it is the same as what the Ottomans use—four chi five cun in total length, weighing thirteen jin, with tremendous projectile power capable of killing an enemy at one hundred twenty paces, though it is extremely heavy and cumbersome."

Lin Qian braced the musket against his shoulder to test the feel—without a front rest, it was indeed difficult to aim.

However, this musket had a special design: a hook on the body that could connect to a barrel stand, and could also be hooked onto city walls or ship rails during siege defense or boarding actions to counteract the recoil.

Lin Qian said to his staff officer, "This design is good—it partially offsets the weapon's heaviness. When we return to Nan'ao, send a batch to Foye for research." "Yes, sir!" The staff officer opened his notebook and recorded it.

The Aceh envoy could not get a word in edgewise and could only stand to the side, bowing and waiting.

Lin Qian looked out across the entire dock—muskets and cannons arranged in neat ranks, a sight most pleasing to the eye.

"How much did we capture in total?"

Bai Qing took out a leather-bound ledger and said, "Over two thousand muskets, one hundred thirty-five cannons, three hundred suits of armor, over three thousand long and short weapons, assorted gold and silver coins, gems, and jewelry amounting to roughly thirty thousand taels of silver, plus grain, tents, and other supplies."

As Bai Qing reported, Lin Qian strolled among the spoils, occasionally stopping to touch and inspect the cannons.

These cannons cast with Ottoman technology were exquisitely made, nearly on par with the Nan'ao army's own artillery; in the remaining firearms and armor, the Acehnese showed no inferiority either.

Had Lin Qian not won through surprise tactics, defeating the Acehnese would have been no easy task.

Qin Liangyu followed behind Lin Qian, listening to Bai Qing introduce the calibers and models of the captured cannons, her mind drifting into a daze.

She recalled how, over three months ago, Lin Qian had asked her to help train flintlock musketeers, giving only half a month to do it.

At the time, Qin Liangyu had thought it somewhat frivolous, but given her position, she had found it difficult to offer counsel.

Now it seemed—let alone half a month, even no training at all would have made no difference.

Because the flintlock musketeers never even got a chance to engage the enemy; the great battle against the Acehnese was finished entirely by ships and cannons.

She had brought her son and daughter-in-law on the expedition to the Southern Seas—first, because she did not wish to fight against the Ming army; second, because she wanted to see with her own eyes the vast world Lin Qian had spoken of; and third, because she wished to earn merit and establish achievements.

She had never imagined battles in the Southern Seas would be like this—let alone Ma Xianglin's marksmanship going unused, even her own archery had only been employed once as a flourish. While Lin Qian was still examining the spoils in detail, the Aceh envoy finally could not contain himself and was just about to interrupt when a voice beside him rang out loudly: "The Banten envoy pays respects to His Excellency the Helmsman of the Nan'ao Fleet!"

The Aceh envoy was stunned. He turned his head and only then noticed that many people were standing nearby, all with Malay features—surely envoys from the various surrounding sultanates.

Hearing the voice, Lin Qian turned his head and said coldly, "Is this not the honored envoy of the Banten Sultanate? The last I heard of your country's affairs, you were besieging Palembang with troops. Our army was just preparing to dispatch a punitive expedition—how fortunate that you have come, so you can carry our declaration of war back with you."

Lin Qian waved his hand, and a personal guard stepped forward holding a bolt of silk bearing a written message.

The Banten envoy recoiled a full step as if the silk were a venomous beast, then immediately knelt and said in Chinese, "Misunderstanding! It is all a misunderstanding! Banten dwells in a remote corner of the sea, a barbaric land beyond civilization, a tiny petty state. We have long admired the rites and music of the Great Ming but never had the fortune to present tribute. We are fortunate that the Helmsman's route passed by our humble shores—our entire country rejoiced, harboring only reverence and admiration, never the slightest intent of enmity! I humbly beseech the Helmsman to see clearly!"

The Aceh envoy was dumbfounded. He understood some Chinese and could tell that the Banten envoy not only spoke with perfect pronunciation but also composed elegant phrases with classical flourishes—by comparison, the Aceh envoy still had to rely on an interpreter, far inferior indeed.

The Aceh envoy grew anxious inwardly. Glancing at the faces of the envoys from other countries, he saw the same embarrassment there, which reassured him somewhat—but then he felt a pang of sorrow. In the heyday of Aceh's power, it had always been others who watched Aceh's expressions; when had an Aceh envoy ever had to grovel like this?

Having finished speaking, the Banten envoy took an object from his bosom, raised it high above his head, and declaimed: "This is the state letter of Banten. From this day forth, our humble state shall forever be a vassal of Nan'ao, faithfully observing tribute, generation after generation without end."

The other envoys all had interpreters with them, and upon hearing this they sensed great trouble. From their expressions, the meaning seemed to be: "Damn! How could we have forgotten to compete for vassal status and request tribute? Zheng He hasn't come in two hundred years—we've even forgotten the Great Ming's protocols! There's no time to write a state letter now. Terrible, terrible!" Lin Qian gave a look, and his staff officer accepted the state letter. He then said, "Nan'ao has no sea ban. Whether tribute is offered or not is hardly important—so long as maritime trade is conducted fairly, that will suffice."

"Yes, yes." The Banten envoy nodded hastily, then took a brocade box from his attendant. Opening it, inside were several small ice-white flowers.

"These are plum-blossom borneol—a humble token of our country's regard."

Lin Qian gave a look, and the accompanying military physician stepped forward to inspect them, then whispered in Lin Qian's ear: "Helmsman, these are premium borneol crystals—no problem." Lin Qian then had his personal guard accept the gift and bring it close. He saw that they were not real flowers but ice-like, semi-translucent, jade-white crystals with a glassy, lustrous sheen.

Leaning closer, one could also catch a crisp, clear fragrance—cool and penetrating, sharp yet not harsh, extremely refreshing.

The physician explained, "Helmsman, since ancient times there has been the saying of the four great fragrances—'sinking incense, sandalwood, borneol, and musk.' Borneol is one of them. In the Great Ming it is reserved exclusively for the imperial court; it never circulates among the common people.

Legend has it that among borneol, the white and translucent kind is considered superior; the finest of the fine forms plum-petal shapes, and the supreme grade of the supreme forms plum-blossom shapes—hence called plum-blossom borneol.

Helmsman, these six pieces of borneol would be rare treasures even if placed in the imperial palace."

Lin Qian smiled faintly and accepted the gift, then chatted with the Banten envoy about matters of reestablishing the Old Port Pacification Superintendency—to which the Banten envoy agreed to everything. When the conversation concluded and he withdrew, the Banten envoy secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He recalled how, when the Banten Sultan had first heard that descendants of the Shi family planned to reestablish the Old Port Pacification Superintendency, he had flown into a rage and, disregarding the counsel of his nobles, insisted on sending troops against Palembang. Not long after, the Nan'ao envoy had brought the Aceh Sultan's dagger, which nearly frightened the Banten Sultan into abdicating on the spot.

The Banten Sultan and the Acehnese shared the island of Sumatra, and he knew better than anyone how powerful this neighbor was. Now that such a formidable opponent had been easily dealt with by the Nan'ao army, Nan'ao must be far more terrifying than Aceh.

Palembang was a port city—wealthy, to be sure, but hardly worth comparing to his own throne.

That was why he had hastily dispatched an envoy to sue for peace, specially preparing a generous gift.

Fortunately, the effort had not been wasted—now it seemed the Sultan's seat was secure.

The other envoys who had come to pay respects to Lin Qian harbored the same thoughts. Now that the strongest state in the Malay lands had met its ruin, and Zheng He's fleet was returning to the Southern Seas, one had to pick the right side!

Since the early Ming, the various states of the Southern Seas had been vassals of the Great Ming. At that time, the profits from a single tribute mission had been so enormous that the states still remembered two hundred years later.

Later, as the Great Ming declined, rewards grew fewer, and with the sea ban lifted, the states of the Southern Seas gradually ceased their tribute.

Now that Zheng He's fleet had returned, surely the good days of tribute were coming again.

Whether motivated by profit or by national security, all the envoys spoke of themselves as vassal states, and every sentence revolved around resuming tribute.

Lin Qian, in turn, reiterated to each envoy that Nan'ao would no longer conduct tribute trade—henceforth Guangzhou, Fuzhou, and other places could engage in free maritime trade, and even private merchants would receive official protection.

More and more envoys completed their audiences, and the pile of gifts at Lin Qian's side grew ever larger.

Though they were all local specialty products like the borneol, they were nonetheless a token of sincerity, and Lin Qian accepted them all.

When it finally came to the Aceh envoy's turn, he did not style himself a vassal, gave no gift to Lin Qian, and made no mention of opening tribute—making him the odd one out. The Aceh envoy steeled himself and said, "Respected Helmsman, I hope you will return the remains of the Aceh Sultan, so that our country may bury him according to the teachings of the Heavenly Square faith." Lin Qian made a gesture, and six personal guards came forward from the dock warehouse bearing trays.

The Aceh envoy was stunned, thinking to himself, "What does this mean—could it be... he dismembered His Majesty?"

The guards stepped forward and lifted the covering cloths, and only then did the envoy see that what lay inside were suits of armor, robes, and other garments—all extremely luxurious, embroidered with the royal crescent emblem, exactly what Sultan Muda had used.

Lin Qian said, "The Sultan's remains could not be found. Please take these garments back and build a cenotaph."

"What?" The Aceh envoy's voice suddenly rose. "What have you done with His Majesty's remains?"

The guards' gazes all turned cold and sharp, hands resting on their sword hilts—combined with the arsenal-like spoils on the dock, the killing intent was palpable.

The Aceh envoy's bearing deflated.

Lin Qian paced across the dock, walked to a weapon rack, and drew out a Janissary scimitar to toy with in his hands. The cold gleam of the blade stung the Aceh envoy's eyes.

"There is an old saying in Cathay: 'In war between two armies, envoys are not slain.' When our army faced off against your Sultan, we dispatched an envoy to visit him. The Sultan killed our envoy and left not even his bones behind. This is merely proportionate response."

"You... you you... ah..." The Aceh envoy's face flushed crimson with suppressed fury, finally dissolving into a long sigh.

The guards returned Sultan Muda's armor and other belongings.

Afterwards, negotiations over a ceasefire and other matters with the Acehnese were presided over by Zheng Zhilong and the staff officers accompanying the army; Lin Qian did not participate.

After the envoys had left, Lin Qian said to Bai Qing, "Send word to Zheng Zhilong to wrap things up quickly. We've been at sea a long time—it's time to go home."

While Lin Qian was receiving envoys from the various kingdoms of the Southern Seas.

In the warm chamber of the Qianqing Palace within the imperial palace in the capital, a blue-and-white brush washer smashed onto the floor, shattering to pieces, porcelain shards flying everywhere.

"Your Majesty, calm your wrath—please take care of your dragon body!" The eunuch Wang Yongzuo knelt, his voice trembling, nearly pleading. He was a former retainer from the prince's residence, closest to Zhu Youjian, and his expression at this moment was not feigned.

The eunuch Wang Cheng'en said, "Your Majesty, these barbarian lands beyond the seas are untaught in civilization and utterly crude. They did not even think to send anyone to court to celebrate an event as momentous as Your Majesty's ascension—truly obstinate and incorrigible!"

These words were skillfully spoken—neither suggesting the Emperor's anger was misplaced, nor framing the lack of congratulatory envoys as mere "ignorance," minimizing a great matter into a small one.

Wang Yongzuo couldn't help but cast a sidelong glance at this close attendant of His Majesty, thinking to himself that this man was indeed someone Cao Huachun had placed at His Majesty's side—he truly had some skill. Zhu Youjian sat down at his desk and furiously swept the brush rest and inkstone to the floor, where they shattered with a clatter across the ground.

The eunuchs in the warm chamber could only prostrate themselves and knock their heads on the floor.

Nor was Zhu Youjian's anger without cause. Since ascending the throne on the third day of the sixth month in the ninth year of Tianqi, the first thing he had done was to expel Ke Shi from the palace. He then subtly hinted for court officials to impeach Wei Zhongxian, and after three months of preparation, finally toppled Wei Zhongxian, sending him to Fengyang to guard the imperial tombs. Both court and country held tremendous goodwill toward this new sovereign who had swept away the powerful eunuch, and some even said Zhu Youjian was a sovereign of restoration, bearing the visage of a sage-king. According to the ritual system of the Great Ming, after a new emperor ascended the throne, an imperial edict was issued to all tributary states, requiring them to send envoys bearing tribute under the name of "congratulating the ascension."

Yet more than three months after the edict was promulgated, how many barbarian kingdoms had sent tribute and congratulations to this sage-king?

Not a single one!

A great number of tributary states had directly declared they were unable to send tribute.

For example, Joseon, being occupied by the Later Jin, could not send tribute.

Ü-Tsang, due to the She-An Rebellion severing the tribute route, could not send tribute.

Annam, being mired in the war with the Nguyen lords, could not send tribute.

Siam, Ryukyu, and the various kingdoms of the Southern Seas, because the rebels at Nan'ao occupied Fujian and Guangdong, could not send tribute.

Zhu Youjian understood that aside from Joseon and Ü-Tsang, the excuses given by all the other tributary states were mere pretexts. Even if the tribute routes through Guangzhou and Fuzhou were severed, they could easily travel through Ningbo instead.

The real reason they did not come was that they dared not offend the rebels at Nan'ao.

In the Hongwu and Yongle reigns, the Great Ming had seen ten thousand kingdoms come to court—what majesty, what grandeur! Yet now, in his Chongzhen reign, not a single kingdom's envoy was willing to come and offer congratulations. If word of this got out, the whole realm would laugh at him!

Where was this sage-king supposed to put his face?

Zhu Youjian collapsed into his chair in fury, gasping for breath, his chest heaving violently.

He calculated in his mind: compared to the She-An rebels, the Jianzhou barbarians, and the roving bandits, Nan'ao—which occupied the southeast—was the true mortal threat to the Great Ming. To pacify all the rebels, he must first pacify Nan'ao!

Nan'ao's navy was formidable and its maritime trade prosperous, but its land forces were unremarkable. If the three provinces of Fujian, Guangdong, and Guangxi could be recovered, and the Great Ming could use the benefits of maritime transport to fill the state treasury, then all things could prosper!!

Just as he was deliberating on how to strike at Nan'ao, a man ran into the warm chamber from outside.

Zhu Youjian looked closely—it was none other than Cao Huachun, the eunuch Director of the Eastern Depot.

This man had served under Wang An during the Tianqi reign. After Wei Zhongxian rose to power, he had suppressed Cao Huachun at every turn. After Zhu Youjian ascended the throne, he recalled Cao Huachun to the capital and entrusted him with the heavy task of purging the eunuch faction.

After Wei Zhongxian was demoted to Fengyang to guard the tombs, Zhu Youjian went further and had Cao Huachun directly appointed Director of the Eastern Depot, taking over Wei Zhongxian's position.

Zhu Youjian took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and said, "How went the task?"

Cao Huachun knelt and knocked his head heavily against the floor, saying, "This slave deserves death—the traitor Wei has escaped…"

"What?" Zhu Youjian exclaimed in shock. "With five hundred riders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard sent to seize him, you let Wei Zhongxian get away?"

Zhu Youjian had never intended to let Wei Zhongxian live. Banishing him from the capital had merely been to make it easier to strike, lest the man lash out desperately at the end and cause chaos. When he heard that Wei Zhongxian had left the capital with over a thousand personal retainers and forty carts of treasure, flaunting himself ostentatiously all the way, it only gave Zhu Youjian more justification to act. So Zhu Youjian immediately issued an imperial decree ordering the Embroidered Uniform Guard to seize him and bring him back to the capital for trial.

He never imagined such a simple task could still be botched!

Cao Huachun knocked his head on the floor and said, "Your Majesty, please see clearly. This slave led men and caught up with the traitor Wei's convoy in the Hejian Prefecture area, but the traitor Wei had gotten wind of it and had long since abandoned his main baggage train, taking a boat out to sea from the Tianjin docks."

"Wretch!" Zhu Youjian slammed the table and rose to his feet. "Where did he go?"

Cao Huachun was silent for a moment, then said, "In all the world, there is perhaps only one place that could shelter the traitor Wei…"

"Nan'ao!" Zhu Youjian murmured.

Ya Hei

Fen Yuan

Pen