Chapter 286: Luring the Enemy at Toulong Bay

Ji Bai shouted at the top of his lungs: "A warrior would rather die than be humiliated! If you have the guts, kill me, and let the world see the true face of the Joseon court!"

Chief State Councillor Choe Myeong-gil's gaze sharpened: "You think I wouldn't dare?"

Meng Tingchuan was practically on the verge of tears, hurriedly tugging at Ji Bai and whispering a reminder: "Say a few less words, why don't you."

Ji Bai snorted coldly: "A true man dies when death comes—what is there to fear? Rest assured, if we two die, the Nan'ao gunboats will surely bombard Joseon flat and avenge us!"

Meng Tingchuan said with a mournful face: "I'd still rather be the one firing the cannons from a ship."

Inside the hall, the assembled Joseon officials whispered among themselves; they all knew more or less of the Nan'ao army's exploits against the Jianzhou barbarians in Liaodong.

The Yalu River freezes in winter, so warships alone cannot hold it, and the upper reaches are too shallow—even cavalry can ford across.

Thus the Joseon ministers scoffed at the proposal for Nan'ao to help defend Joseon.

But Nan'ao gunboats bombarding Joseon flat—that might actually be possible. Hanyang was only fifty li from the coast, after all.

Moreover, Ganghwa Island lay out at sea, and on it rested the tombs of Joseon's successive kings. If the Nan'ao army were provoked into seizing the island, the King's prestige would suffer a grievous blow.

The ministers' gazes turned to Chief State Councillor Choe Myeong-gil. Seeing this, he found himself on the back of a tiger with no easy way down, but since "righteous principle" could not be abandoned, he still forced himself to say: "Enough. Our Joseon is a land of propriety—we do not execute envoys. You two are fortunate; we shall not punish you severely this time. Get out."

Ji Bai remained unyielding and broke into curses. Meng Tingchuan clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him, pulling and hauling, out of the great hall.

Ji Bai gazed at the low, squat Joseon hall, his eyes full of regret.

The two returned to the wharf and took an eagle ship back to Jeju Island. At Jeju City they met Bai Qing and recounted what had happened. Ji Bai, face full of shame, said: "I have dishonored my mission. Please punish me, Commander."

Bai Qing said in puzzlement: "Since when does surviving count as dishonoring a mission? I really can't understand you people from the Foreign Affairs Bureau…"

Ji Bai opened his mouth to speak, then froze.

Since the Foreign Affairs Bureau's founding, only two missions abroad had drawn the most attention. One was Ning Zhi's visit to Siam, where he suffered imprisonment, yet not only returned safely but also brought back intelligence on the Siamese royal capital's defenses and agriculture.

The other was Wei Lan's visit to the Sultan of Aceh's camp, where he furiously denounced the Sultan and his ministers, and finally took poison and died for the cause.

Now Ning Zhi had risen meteorically, becoming Deputy Director of the Foreign Affairs Bureau.

And Wei Lan had directly become the name of a place in Malacca City—a cenotaph was erected for him within the city, where he would receive incense offerings from posterity forever. His Fujian clan not only enjoyed all manner of privileges, but the clan genealogy even devoted an entire page to Wei Lan alone.

With these two predecessors setting such shining examples, naturally all the colleagues in the Foreign Affairs Bureau came to regard dying for the cause as an honor.

Ning Zhi realized the trend was unhealthy and deliberately made repeated efforts to correct it, hanging two large placards in the bureau's inner hall bearing two rules for diplomatic missions: "No deliberate provocation" and "No intentional troublemaking."

But the effect was minimal—how could such a trend be so easily reversed?

Before departing, Ji Bai had even written his deathbed letter. He never expected that after one mission abroad, Nan'ao would be criticized roundly by Joseon's ministers while he came back in one piece—how could he not feel ashamed?

Bai Qing, caught between laughter and tears, offered him a few words of comfort, then asked Bailangzai beside him: "Have you gotten a full picture of the Joseon navy's deployments?" During Ji Bai's mission, the other eagle ships had been cruising along the Korean Peninsula, gathering military intelligence.

Bailangzai was wiping his large miao dao with a silk cloth and didn't even look up, saying flatly: "The Joseon navy has no small number of men. The largest naval base is at Durupo in Gyeongsang Province, with over ten thousand men and more than two hundred vessels of various sizes.

Next is Jeolla Province—the Yeosu naval base, with roughly four thousand men and over sixty vessels.

Then Gyeonggi Province, where the naval base is built on Ganghwa Island—over two thousand men and more than forty vessels.

The remaining provinces—Chungcheong, Hwanghae, Pyeongan, and others—all have naval garrisons as well, but those places lack both troops and warships, so they can only defend their coastal waters."

Joseon was divided into eight provinces in total. Gyeongsang and Jeolla were the two provinces at the southernmost tip of the peninsula, and the main strength of the navy was stationed along the southern coastline, a mere two to three hundred li from Jeju Island.

Meng Tingchuan said: "Since the Eulchuk Disturbance, Joseon's northern navy suffered heavy losses. In the whole country, only the southern provinces of Gyeongsang and Jeolla still have elite naval forces. Apart from that, only Ganghwa Island still has a portion of the navy guarding the capital region."

Hong Taiji's invasion of Joseon was in the fifth year of Tianqi, which by the sexagenary cycle was the year Eulchuk—hence the Joseon people called it the Eulchuk Disturbance.

Bai Qing poured himself a cup of tea and asked: "Joseon is a small country—two provincial navies combined have twenty thousand men and over three hundred ships. Isn't that a bit much?"

Bailangzai had finished wiping his blade and was now holding it up, examining it at length, the cold gleam flickering across the whole room.

"Those twenty thousand include shore support troops and shipboard sailors—the actual fighting men aren't that many.

The Joseon main warship is called a 'panokseon.' It uses both sails and oars, carries at most ten Folangji cannons, and has a very tall deckhouse—its form is similar to Japan's atakebune. There's also a smaller version called a hyeopseon, carrying four Folangji cannons and six mortar tubes, which also counts as a main combat vessel.

There's another type called a maengseon, divided into large, medium, and small—mostly used for patrol and anti-smuggling duties."

A ship captain said: "Doesn't sound like anything so impressive."

Meng Tingchuan waved his hand: "You can't say that. Joseon's coastal waters have big waves, shallow depths, and many reefs—the hydrography is complex. Joseon's ships were designed precisely to cope with these sea conditions.

If you truly fought in complex waters, our big ocean-going ships might not be a match for the Joseon fleet. After all, no matter how thick the hull, it can't ram through a reef. Back in the Imjin War—oh, that is, what we call the Wanli Korean Campaign—at a place called Myeongnyang Strait in Gyeongsang Province, the Joseon navy fought a battle against the Japanese pirate fleet.

The famed Joseon admiral Yi Sun-sin, using only thirteen panokseon, routed a Japanese fleet of nearly three hundred ships!"

Bai Qing held his teacup in both hands and frowned: "That's not right—I remember the Battle of Myeongnyang being commanded by the Ming general Chen Lin?"

Meng Tingchuan said in a low voice: "What you're thinking of, Commander, is the Battle of Noryang. The one Yi Sun-sin commanded was the Battle of Myeongnyang. The names sound similar, but they're not the same thing. Yi Sun-sin later died in the Battle of Noryang."

"Oh, oh." Bai Qing hastily took a sip of tea to cover his embarrassment.

Meng Tingchuan continued: "Though Yi Sun-sin is dead, all Joseon people regard him as a hero. He once said, 'Resolve to die and you shall live; resolve to live and you shall die.' Influenced by this, the Joseon navy dares to fight and is extremely valiant. There are rumors that the turtle ship, a naval weapon Yi Sun-sin developed, still survives to this day." A ship captain said: "Ah! I know the turtle ship—legend says the vessel is forged entirely of fine iron, impervious to swords and spears, and can spew smoke and fire. In the Battle of Noryang, it was the turtle ships charging the formation that tore open the Japanese fleet."

Meng Tingchuan said: "Correct, that's the thing. Whether it's real or not is hard to say—no one has seen one in many years; perhaps the art has been lost." Bai Qing said: "It's best if they dare to fight—what I fear is them turtling up. Pass the order: the fleet sets out tomorrow!"

The next morning at dawn.

The Lingcang sailed in the coastal waters south of the peninsula. This stretch of sea was filled with fragmented islands and reefs, with complex hydrography, so the Lingcang proceeded with great care.

Ahead of the fleet, eagle ships were constantly taking depth soundings.

For this battle, the entire fleet had been lightened—only half the usual ammunition and supplies were carried, with the other half stored on Jeju Island.

As it turned due north, the fleet entered a strait between two islands.

Meng Tingchuan introduced: "Commander, to the west is Mireuksan, and to the east is Hansando. It was here that Yi Sun-sin annihilated the main Japanese fleet and won the great victory of Hansando."

Bailangzai gave a slight nod in response.

On the Lingcang's port side, the leadsman hauled in the sounding line and called out loudly: "Water depth: two zhang five chi."

After the Lingcang was lightened, its draft was about one zhang three chi—there was still plenty of clearance at the current depth.

Still, considering it was high tide and the uneven seabed, navigation required caution.

After sailing north for a while, fishing boats and patrol craft spotted the Nan'ao fleet and gave it a wide berth. Beacon towers on both Mireuksan and Hansando sent up thick black smoke, and the signal fires relayed northwestward along the coast.

About an hour later, the coastline of Mireuksan to the west began to curve inward, forming with the northern shore a trumpet-shaped harbor. Meng Tingchuan pointed at the harbor from afar and said: "Commander, that is Durupo—the Gyeongsang Province naval base and the seat of the Joseon Three-Province Naval Commandery!"

Before he finished speaking, the lookout called out: "Enemy fleet! Northwest, two nautical miles, heading straight for us!"

On the quarterdeck, the officers pulled out their telescopes one after another and gazed toward the northwest.

In his field of vision, a cluster of ship silhouettes floated on the sea surface, sailing in a horizontal formation. The vessels varied in size—roughly counted, about twenty-odd ships. Bailangzai lowered the telescope and said in a deep voice, "Turn the rudder right, port side facing the enemy."

"Hard to starboard!" the helmsman shouted.

Soon, the three ships Lingcang, Hengcang, and Pocang formed a line of battle, all three turning broadside.

"Eight hundred paces!" the lookout said.

At this distance, even without a telescope, the enemy fleet could be clearly seen. It spread out across the sea surface, leaving considerable gaps between ships, with both flanks pushed forward while the center sagged inward—very much like a wild-goose formation.

Meng Tingchuan said, "This is the formation Yi Sun-sin loved most. The Joseon people call it the crane-wing formation."

Bailangzai said, "Prepare to open fire!"

The helmsman relayed the order loudly. Soon the sterncastle and gun decks were cleared, the port gunports opened, and the bronze cannon barrels were pushed out.

"Enemy fleet, five hundred paces!" the lookout updated the situation. "Three panokseon, fifteen hyeopseon, eight maengseon."

The officers on the sterncastle deck wore smiles—with that quality of ships, they might as well be coming to die.

"Three hundred paces!"

"Fire."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The three fifth-rate ships fired together, sixty solid iron shot loosed in succession. The cannonballs skipped across the water's surface, throwing up great sheets of white spray, scattering like a goddess flinging flowers—a splendid sight.

The vast majority of the shot passed through the gaps in the enemy fleet and sank into the sea. Only one panokseon in the center took two hits, which was hardly a scratch. The Joseon navy's hearts steadied, and they charged on with ever greater ferocity.

But before their eyes, red flashes appeared in succession along the broadsides of the three fifth-rate ships, followed by deafening thunder of cannon fire, and great clouds of gunpowder smoke enveloped the fifth-rate ships' hulls. Over the Joseon fleet's heads, whistling sounds cut through the air without cease, and a mass of ricocheting shot skimmed across the sea surface toward them.

The panokseon at the very center took ten hits in a row. Its bow was smashed to pieces, looking as though it had pitched headfirst into the water. Soon more than half its hull was submerged, sinking with alarming speed.

Seeing this, the rest of the Joseon navy hesitated greatly. That sunken panokseon had been the flagship, and the vice-admiral had been aboard. Now that the flagship was gone, should they still charge?

Nor had anyone ever heard of a great battle where the flagship sank before the enemy was even engaged.

Aboard the Lingcang, the lookout said, "Two hundred paces!"

As he reported the range, another broadside volley erupted. Thick smoke surged up, choking the lookout until his eyes rolled white.

With the distance closed, the cannon fire grew more accurate.

Ricocheting shot pounded the sea surface, leaving ripples everywhere.

Among the Joseon navy, one panokseon took several hits in succession. Its bow and both sides were riddled with holes, great chunks of timber hurled into the air. The naval officers and men heard nothing but the ceaseless rumble of explosions at their ears.

Moments later, that panokseon was heavily damaged—though it barely kept a breath of life and still floated. Its commander immediately ordered a turn and retreat. Having lost two panokseon in just three volleys, the Joseon navy's morale plummeted. The remaining undamaged ships also turned about one after another, fleeing in defeat toward the harbor. At the watchtower of Turyongpo naval port, the naval Chiliarch cursed furiously: "Cowards! Yellow-bellied bastards! Over twenty ships, driven back by three enemy ships in three volleys! Three volleys! Spineless curs!"

"The Myriarch asks what's going on?"

The Chiliarch was in the middle of his tirade when suddenly questioned. He looked down from the watchtower and saw the naval Myriarch, leading his personal guards, standing below, staring coldly at him.

The Chiliarch hastily scrambled down from the watchtower and explained the battle situation to the Myriarch, then assured him: "This humble officer will personally lead troops to drive the enemy away!" Upon hearing the enemy had only three warships, the Myriarch's expression relaxed. He said coldly, "This commander was discussing military affairs with His Excellency the Naval Commander in the main tent. Disturb His Excellency, and even if I could forgive you, His Excellency would not tolerate it. Understood?"

The so-called "Naval Commander" was the Naval Commander of Gyeongsang Province—the supreme commander of the naval forces here, responsible for the garrison's coastal defense.

The Chiliarch's legs went weak at the mere mention of the name. He said hurriedly, "Rest assured, Your Excellency. This humble officer will muster the men and personally sortie at once!"

The Myriarch said no more, turned, and returned to the central command tent.

Once inside the tent, the Myriarch's demeanor changed completely. He bowed with clasped hands and said, "Your Excellency, it is merely three barbarian ships. Likely another matter of the red barbarians seeking trade. This officer has already sent men to drive them off."

"Mm." Jeong Bong-su, the Naval Commander of Jeolla Province, nodded.

Since the Imjin War, the Joseon southern navy had seen no combat for many years. The three-province navy was said to be established to guard against the Japanese, but now there were few Japanese pirates left. In earlier years, red barbarians had come with warships to the Busan area demanding trade, but in recent years even the red barbarians had stopped coming.

Hearing cannon fire out of the blue made Jeong Bong-su rather ill at ease.

A moment later, the thunderous roar of cannon fire sounded again outside the tent.

"Engaged so quickly?" the Naval Commander Jeong Bong-su asked.

The Myriarch was also uneasy with doubt. When he had asked the Chiliarch, he had learned the red barbarians' galleons were over ten li away.

Even if the Chiliarch boarded ships and dispatched troops at top speed, how could they have made contact with the enemy in such a short time?

"Boom! Boom! Boom..."

Suddenly another volley of cannon fire rang out, the sound extremely clear. Even the tent trembled slightly, and a great deal of dust fell, choking the Naval Commander into a fit of coughing. "Cough, cough... Go... go see." Jeong Bong-su pointed outside the tent.

The Myriarch ran quickly to the watchtower. He had no time for his guards to relay messages. Amid the cannon fire, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "What's going on?"

The lookout soldier's face had lost all color. Pointing into the distance, he said, "Barbarian ships... barbarian ships..."

"You little bastard!" the Myriarch muttered a curse, then climbed up the watchtower himself to look.

One glance and he was stunned. The battlefield had shifted to less than five li from the naval stockade. Three enemy ships were chasing over fifty warships, bombarding them wildly.

The sea surface was thick with gunpowder smoke. Cannonballs flew like locusts. Cannonballs, wooden planks, and corpses splashed down onto the water at intervals, churning the entire sea into white foam. Three or four hyeopseon had already been hit and sunk, and one panokseon had burst into flames.

Some soseon and maengseon were circling around the enemy ships' bows and sterns from both sides. The firepower at their bows and sterns was weaker than their broadsides, but their hulls were tall. Even when the small boats managed to get close, they could hardly board.

Moreover, on their decks, crewmen were firing muskets. The musket balls could not penetrate the hulls, but they inflicted severe casualties on anyone attempting to board. Back in the Imjin War, it had been Joseon that held the heavy firepower advantage while favoring boarding tactics.

General Yi Sun-sin had routed the Japanese pirates precisely with Folangji cannons and Cheonja mortars.

Who would have thought that a mere thirty years later, cannon fire had become the Joseon navy's weakness?

While he stood dumbfounded, another change occurred on the sea. Cannon fire sounded from Mireuk Mountain, and shells landed near the three barbarian ships.

"Haha!" The Myriarch clapped his hands in delight.

The three barbarian ships had grown too cocky—they had actually sailed within range of the coastal defense guns.

Though the shells did not strike the enemy ships, the columns of water they threw up threw the enemy fleet into a panic.

The enemy ships were rapidly raising sail and turning about, their broadsides temporarily silenced. The Joseon fleet seized the opportunity and immediately closed in around them.

For a time, the panokseon's cannons roared. Shells fell sparsely around the barbarian ships, with a few striking their hulls dead-on—little damage, but full of spirit. "They're retreating! The barbarians are retreating!"

The camp soldiers cheered in unison.

The Myriarch slowly let out a breath. Seeing the Joseon navy also return to the naval stockade, he was finally at ease and climbed down from the watchtower.

But no sooner had he returned to the central tent than he heard dense cannon fire start up again.

The Myriarch felt inexplicable anger rising in his heart and demanded of those around him, "What's going on?"

"Sir, the barbarian ships have returned..."

"What?" the Chiliarch roared in fury. "These savages truly have no idea what death is!"

Cannon fire continued across the sea. The Chiliarch laboriously climbed back up to the lookout, where he saw the three ships in a line, carefully staying beyond cannon range while continuing to fire. The Joseon navy had also turned back mid-course and was closing in around them again.

This time the Joseon navy had learned their lesson. Having realized the barbarian ships had poor maneuverability in the narrow waters, they gave the broadsides a wide berth and instead steered toward the barbarian ships' sterns and quarters.

The two sides fought doggedly until noon, when the barbarian ships were finally driven back again. This time the Joseon navy pursued them for over twenty li before turning back to port. The Chiliarch, pounding his lower back, climbed down from the lookout and instructed the camp commander: "Strengthen the watch and have the rest of the warships stand ready. If those three barbarian ships dare invade our waters again, we'll make sure they never return!"

After reporting back to the Naval Commissioner, the Chiliarch returned to his quarters, ate lunch, and lay down to rest. Just as he was drifting into a daze, his subordinate came running in to report: "Lord Chiliarch, those three barbarian ships have come again!"

"The audacious scoundrels!" The Chiliarch sprang up from his bed with a start, snatching his saber into his hand. "Order all warships to stand ready. I shall meet the enemy personally."

While the Joseon navy was marshaling its forces, the Battalion Commander of the naval camp had already charged out of the camp gate with thirty ships. After the morning's fierce fighting, he had discovered that although the barbarian ships' cannon fire was strong, their tactics were rigid—they only stopped to bombard. As long as small craft sailed into shallow waters or firing blind spots, the barbarian ships were helpless.

Both previous attacks had driven the barbarian ships back exactly this way.

He was about to employ the same tactic when his flagship fired a shot that struck true, hitting the enemy vessel's deck dead center.

They were too far away to see how many casualties the enemy had suffered, but moments later, they saw a section of the enemy's rigging snap, two yards on the mainmast flailing wildly, and the sail collapsing down, fluttering about like a flag.

The barbarian ship was taken by surprise. They immediately raised sail, preparing to flee—but with its mainmast crippled, the ship was extremely slow, and the two sails with severed rigging flapped wildly in the wind, making the hull lurch left and right, making progress even more difficult.

"Ha? Hahaha!"

The Chiliarch's face was full of disbelief. He pointed at the enemy ship and said: "The rigging snapped? The enemy's rigging snapped!"

When the red barbarians had previously requested trade at Busan, the Chiliarch had seen their ships and knew they were fast—far too fast for the Joseon navy's plank-roofed ships and escort vessels to catch.

But now that the enemy's rigging had snapped and their speed had dropped drastically, even if the other two ships could escape, this one could not.

So the Chiliarch said in a low voice: "Quick, chase them down!"

Meanwhile, the Chiliarch commanding the center fleet from behind saw this scene and was momentarily stunned. He had led the fleet out intending to supervise and hold the line—he hadn't expected to actually sink all three barbarian ships.

But now the barbarian ship's rigging had snapped and it was fleeing in panic. Forget sinking it—capturing the enemy vessel was entirely possible.

Since the Yichou Disturbance, the Joseon court and its people had suffered endless humiliation, and everyone longed for a hero like Yi Sun-sin to step forward.

If he could capture this barbarian ship, it would be a rare and great naval victory—wouldn't that make him a second Yi Sun-sin?

At that point, his official rank, power, and prestige would all reach their peak.

Thinking of this, the Chiliarch gave the order: "Full speed ahead! Don't let the barbarian ship get away!"

Soon, the entire fleet was charging toward the enemy vessel.

The cannon fire ceased. Naval Commissioner Jeong Bong-su had waited a long while in the central camp without the Chiliarch coming to report on the battle, and found it most strange. He decided to go out and investigate himself—and the moment he stepped into the camp, he was stunned.

In the military harbor, every warship stood empty.

"Where are the ships?" Jeong Bong-su demanded loudly of those around him.

"The Chiliarch took them all out of the harbor," said the camp commander.

Pressing further, Jeong Bong-su learned that the Chiliarch had taken the entire camp's warships to pursue the enemy. He was so furious he nearly fainted. After a moment to compose himself, he said: "Quick! Send out picket boats at once and bring the fleet back!"

By the time the picket boats left the harbor, the Joseon fleet had already sailed between Mireuk Island and Hando Island.

The Chiliarch's and the Battalion Commander's two fleets refused to yield to one another, each afraid the other would steal the credit.

Aboard the Lingcang, Meng Tingchuan looked back and said with concern: "They're less than a hundred paces away."

The helmsman shouted up to the deck: "Old Zhang, what's going on? Haven't you tied it down yet?"

Hearing this, the boatswain said apologetically: "I was too eager luring the enemy and cut the rigging with my knife. It's hard to repair while under sail."

Meng Tingchuan looked at the Joseon fleet behind them, fierce as wolves and tigers, and thought to himself: these Joseon soldiers must have gone mad—the previous two chases had been half-hearted, but this time they were clinging like they'd just lost their own fathers.

The lookout called out: "I can see the open sea!"

Everyone looked ahead and saw, beyond several islands, a vast expanse of deep blue sea stretching without end.

A cannon shot rang out from behind, and a column of water erupted twenty paces off the Lingcang's stern.

The boatswain urged: "Faster! Faster still!"

The rigger swung back and forth on the shrouds, scrambling frantically, and finally caught the last line and tied it fast.

"Tied down!" the rigger shouted.

"Haul in the rigging, adjust—"

"Wait." The boatswain was cut off mid-sentence by Bailangzai's loud shout.

He looked at the Joseon fleet barely eighty paces behind and said: "Wait a little longer. Don't let the fish slip out of the net."

Aboard the plank-roofed ship, the lookout said: "Lord Chiliarch, we're about to reach the open sea ahead!"

The Joseon navy was built for coastal waters. They had a limited capacity for distant voyages, but on the open sea they could hardly match the barbarian ships.

His instinct told him to withdraw, but looking at the barbarian ship so close at hand, he felt unwilling to give up.

From this position, he could almost make out the intricate carvings on the barbarian ship's sterncastle.

He looked again at the Battalion Commander's fleet off his left front, and knew in his heart that even if he sounded the retreat, the Battalion Commander might not obey. If his own fleet stopped while the Battalion Commander pressed on, the credit would go to the Battalion Commander—who might be promoted to Chiliarch, or even Naval Commissioner, climbing above him. By then it would be too late for regrets. At this thought, the Chiliarch steeled himself and said through gritted teeth: "Open sea it is, then. We charge!"

On the other side, the Battalion Commander also felt that pursuing into the open sea was extremely dangerous and was hesitating over whether to give up—but he had yet to hear the retreat gong sound from the Chiliarch's flagship. Since the Chiliarch was his superior, surely his judgment could not be wrong.

And with the military glory so close at hand, he was even less willing to abandon the chase. He hastily ordered the fleet to increase speed.

The weather was clear today, not a cloud in the sky. On the glittering, wave-sparkling sea, the two fleets charged out one after another.

On the Lingcang's deck, Meng Tingchuan said: "Commander, the enemy has taken the bait and come out!"

Bailangzai said: "Raise the sails. Give the signal!"

At the boatswain's command, the riggers hauled the lines taut. The two sails that had been flapping like rags were secured anew, and with a whoosh they bellied full of wind. The Lingcang's speed surged.

On the stern deck, the signalman lit the sky-flare. With a crack, it burst in the sky.

Moments later, from behind a small island, another sky-flare burst in answer.

"Swoosh—pop!"

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen