Chapter 355: Partisan Strife Rises Again; Digging Up Lin's Ancestral Graves

Deep in the night, within the Forbidden City, in the western warm chamber of Qianqing Palace.

Chongzhen was bent over his desk, reviewing memorials.

The night was cold and chill, and Wang Cheng'en fetched a fox-fur great cloak and draped it over the Emperor's shoulders.

Chongzhen rubbed his sore, swollen eyes and looked up toward the palace exterior, saying: "What hour is it?"

Wang Cheng'en said: "Your reply, His Majesty, it is already the fourth watch. Please, Your Majesty, rest early."

Chongzhen glanced at the imperial desk: "No hurry. I'll sleep after I finish reviewing these."

This scene of him bent over his desk late at night—ever since Wang Cheng'en had begun attending Chongzhen—could be seen every single day.

Let alone compared with the late emperor, even going back to the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, never had there been heard of an emperor so diligent in governance.

Thinking of the various disorders in the outer court, Wang Cheng'en could not help but feel wronged on the Emperor's behalf.

Chongzhen finished reviewing another memorial and set it aside, asking: "How long has it been since the Embroidered Uniform Guard envoy bearing my decree to the southwest departed?"

Wang Cheng'en hastily wiped away his tears, bowed, and said: "Your reply, His Majesty, it has been eighteen days."

A hesitant expression surfaced on Chongzhen's face: "Do you think I was too harsh in scolding Fu Zonglong?"

Wang Cheng'en immediately knelt and said: "Thunder and rain, dew and grace—all are the Emperor's favor. Your Majesty is the sovereign; no matter what, there is no principle by which a subject may presumptuously criticize the ruler." These words were a double entendre—both saying that he himself should not presume to criticize, and also that even if Chongzhen's words had been harsh, Fu Zonglong should not harbor resentment. Chongzhen said: "Rise."

That day, when he had been shocked to hear the news of the rebel Lin advancing into Yunnan and Dian, in his shock and anger, he had spoken harsh words during the audience.

Now that he thought about it, it truly had been his fault.

Fu Zonglong had lost his army and his territory, a crime deserving of ten thousand deaths—but Chongzhen should not have spoken those angry words, losing imperial dignity and making himself a laughingstock before the world.

Chongzhen shook his head. Regardless, once Fu Zonglong arrived in the capital, he would be executed, and this matter would be considered settled. After negotiating peace with the Jianzhou barbarians, he would transfer the Guan-Ning army south to pacify the realm, then suppress the rebel Lin, then use the southern grain and pay to pacify the northwestern roving bandits, and finally recover Liaodong and sweep away the Jianzhou barbarians—then the Great Ming's restoration would be within reach.

Thinking of the glorious scene of the Great Ming's restoration, a fire seemed to burn in Chongzhen's heart; even the hand gripping his brush regained strength.

Just then, a young eunuch came to report: "Your Majesty, Guard Commander Luo of the Embroidered Uniform Guard requests an audience."

Without raising his head, Chongzhen said: "Let him in."

A moment later, hurried footsteps came from outside the warm chamber, and at the chamber door someone knelt in obeisance and offered greetings.

While reviewing memorials, Chongzhen said: "Has Fu Zonglong returned to the capital?"

Luo Yangxing was silent for a moment, then kowtowed and said: "Your servant begs Your Majesty to clear the chamber."

Chongzhen was somewhat surprised and looked around. The hour was already late; in the warm chamber only Wang Cheng'en attended him closely, while the other eunuchs and palace maids were all outside the hall. He said: "No matter. Cheng'en is loyal. Speak directly."

Luo Yangxing said: "Your Majesty, this matter is of grave importance. Your servant begs that the chamber be cleared."

Seeing this, Wang Cheng'en tactfully said: "Your Majesty, the tea has gone cold. This servant will go brew a fresh pot."

Chongzhen waved a hand, dismissing Wang Cheng'en. Before leaving, Wang Cheng'en closed the warm chamber's great door.

"You can speak now, can't you?" Chongzhen's tone was displeased.

Luo Yangxing, however, wore an expression of extreme caution, listening with cocked ear until he confirmed Wang Cheng'en's footsteps had faded, then knelt and shuffled forward to Chongzhen's imperial desk, speaking in a low voice: "Your servant reports to Your Majesty: Fu Zonglong defected to Nanxia half a month ago."

Chongzhen was stunned for a moment, then a surge of hot blood rushed straight to the crown of his head; his fair face instantly turned bright red. He nearly leaped from his chair, crying out: "What!"

In his shock and anger, he remembered that this matter should not be broadcast abroad. He hastily lowered his voice, strode quickly to Luo Yangxing's side, and nearly growled: "Is this matter true?"

Luo Yangxing kowtowed: "Absolutely true!"

"You... you will immediately tell me this matter from beginning to end, exactly as it happened. Miss a single word, and I will not forgive you lightly!"

Luo Yangxing then recounted everything that Chiliarch Wu Mengming of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had witnessed, concluding: "That chiliarch, upon returning to the capital, came to see your servant first. Your servant has now confined him in his residence. There is absolutely no leak of this matter."

After hearing this, Chongzhen felt the world spin around him; wave after wave of hot blood surged into his skull, nearly bursting his head apart.

A Governor-General voluntarily surrendering!

This was an unheard-of marvel in the two hundred years since the founding of the Great Ming!

Even in the days when the powerful eunuch Wei Zhongxian held sway, this had never happened.

Yet this marvel had first appeared in Chongzhen's reign!

To Chongzhen, this was no different from a naked humiliation—almost as if it were openly declaring that he was harsh and ungrateful, which was why a high-ranking governor had defected to the enemy. This humiliation was even more violent than the disastrous defeat at Poyang Lake and the fall of Jiangxi.

Chongzhen staggered backward two steps and only steadied himself when he collided with the imperial desk. The mountain of memorials piled upon the desk scattered across the floor.

Luo Yangxing hurried to support him: "Your Majesty..."

Chongzhen pushed him away, clutching his chest and saying: "Investigate! Go investigate for me! His accomplices, his backers—drag them all out for me!" By the last word, Chongzhen had nearly squeezed all the air from his lungs; the veins on his neck bulged, and his expression was utterly ferocious.

Even Luo Yangxing could not help but feel a chill of fear at the sight. He hastily knelt, kowtowed, and acknowledged the order.

After Luo Yangxing left, Chongzhen's remaining anger had not yet subsided. He snapped several Hu brushes in succession, cursing under his breath: "Wolf-hearted and dog-lunged, base villain, shameless beyond compare! Deserving of death—all of them deserving of death!"

After venting for some time, another young eunuch spoke through the warm chamber's great door: "Your Majesty, Eunuch Cao of the Eastern Depot requests an audience."

Suppressing his anger with effort, Chongzhen said: "Let him in!"

A moment later, the warm chamber's great door opened and Cao Huachun entered. Seeing the mess strewn across the floor, he was startled inwardly, thinking to himself that His Majesty was well-informed and had surely already learned of the news he had come to report.

In the Great Ming dynasty, the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard were originally two independent institutions. It had been an anomaly during the Tianqi reign that Wei Zhongxian, usurping power, had the Eastern Depot command the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

After Chongzhen ascended the throne, he had separated the two, redrawing their respective jurisdictions so that neither commanded the other. Only thus had the situation arisen where the heads of both agencies reported separately on the same night.

After Cao Huachun performed the kowtow ritual and offered his greetings, Chongzhen, suppressing his anger, said in a hoarse voice: "What is it?"

Cao Huachun said: "Your Majesty, the Prince of Jingjiang was executed by the rebel Lin at Guilin."

"This..." Chongzhen abruptly rose. Having heard two devastating pieces of news in a single night, a complex surge of shock, rage, and grief flooded his heart in an instant; his body trembled slightly.

Cao Huachun assumed Chongzhen had other channels of information and already knew of the calamity, and so dared not hold anything back, pouring out everything he knew.

"Furthermore, of the clansmen of the Prince of Jingjiang, the Prince of Yi, and the Prince of Huai, the rebel Lin falsely claimed each had crimes, and meted out severe punishments to all—twenty-eight beheaded in total, three hundred thirty-five imprisoned, and one thousand one hundred thirty-one stripped of rank and reduced to commoners."

Every word and every phrase was like a knife stabbing into Chongzhen's heart, slapping his face with resounding cracks.

Cao Huachun kept his head lowered and could not see the Emperor's expression, but continued reporting without pause: "Additionally, although the Prince of Yi was spared his life, the rebel Lin falsely claimed he 'hoarded wealth without providing relief, obstructed the imperial army, amassed riches for himself, and tyrannized his subjects,' and likewise stripped him of rank and cast him into prison. All of the above atrocities have been printed in the Capital Gazette of Nanxia..."

"How dare the traitor... how dare the traitor!"

The anger Chongzhen had barely managed to suppress surged up once more, the flames of rage nearly consuming him.

"Ah!" Chongzhen let out a great roar and swept the few remaining memorials from the desk, sending them all tumbling to the floor.

"A pack of mutinous soldiers and bandits, actually daring to murder a royal kinsman—such swine-like conduct! This is truly defying heaven and committing treason, utterly devoid of conscience! Ah—"

Chongzhen exerted more force and overturned the entire imperial desk with a crash. The thunderous noise echoed far through the Qianqing Palace in the dead of night.

Only then did Cao Huachun realize the Emperor did not yet know, and hurriedly urged: "Your Majesty, calm your wrath, treasure your dragon body..."

Chongzhen was now beside himself with rage, yet found no target to vent upon—the princely domains of Jingjiang, Huai, and Yi had all fallen, and the local officials were long gone.

Were it not for a shred of reason remaining, Chongzhen would have drawn his sword and cut Cao Huachun down to vent his fury.

After venting for a while, Chongzhen was exhausted and panting. His anger finally subsided, and he slumped down on the imperial steps, saying: "Leave."

Cao Huachun hesitated slightly, seeming to want to speak but holding back.

Chongzhen suppressed his emotions and asked: "Something else?"

Cao Huachun knelt and kowtowed, saying: "Reporting to Your Majesty, Zhu Xieyuan has defected to Nanxia. The rebel Lin has appointed him Governor-General of the Southwest."

Two successive Governors-General of the Southwest, both defecting to Great Xia at the same time!

Chongzhen felt as if he had been struck a heavy blow to the face. His breath caught unevenly, and he suddenly choked. His vision went black, stars danced before his eyes, and he bent over, slowly crouching down to the ground.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty!"

Cao Huachun was greatly alarmed. He called out twice, and seeing that Chongzhen did not respond, rose to summon help—but was stopped by Chongzhen.

Chongzhen was young after all. Breathing in small gasps, he had already recovered. He called Cao Huachun back and said: "Go to Zhejiang... Zhu Xieyuan's family... don't let them escape! Also, the rebel Lin's ancestral graves are in Zhejiang too!"

Cao Huachun said: "This servant understands."

Chongzhen waved his hand to dismiss Cao Huachun, and soon the warm chamber fell silent again.

Taking advantage of being alone, Chongzhen wept in suppressed anguish. After crying for a long while, he wiped his tears and shouted: "Someone come!"

Wang Cheng'en hurried in at a trot.

Chongzhen pointed at the imperial desk. Wang Cheng'en understood at once and quickly led the young eunuchs to right the table and sort the memorials by category.

A moment later, Chongzhen rallied his spirits and sat back down at the desk to continue reviewing memorials, turning his brush into a blade—each stroke cutting at rebels and traitorous ministers.

That very night, riders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot left the capital, heading southwest and southeast respectively.

Two successive Governors-General defecting to the enemy—such a major matter could not be concealed. Soon people in court and among the populace learned of it, and based on the Emperor's temperament, the ministers could guess what response he would make.

Though all the ministers knew that the Southwest should now be handled with leniency and that a great inquisition must absolutely not be launched, not one submitted a memorial urging restraint.

Instead, this affair became the spark for factional strife.

Ask yourselves—who was Fu Zonglong's patron in the Grand Secretariat? Zhou Yanru.

His Majesty had long intended to dismiss Fu Zonglong; it was only because Zhou Yanru had repeatedly and strenuously protected him that Fu Zonglong remained in office—and ultimately brought about this great calamity.

For Wen Tiren, this was a heaven-sent opportunity to topple Zhou Yanru. He therefore deliberately leaked information to the popular press, igniting public opinion. The matter spread through every street and alley of the capital, and both court and populace were thrown into an uproar.

Thereafter, memorials impeaching Zhou Yanru flew to Chongzhen's desk like snowflakes.

Not only Zhou Yanru himself, but all his disciples and old associates came under impeachment—the momentum was to uproot Zhou Yanru entirely.

And Zhou Yanru, who had never wanted to be the sinner who negotiated peace with the Jianzhou barbarians, was glad to take the opportunity to step down. He offered no defense, instead repeatedly submitting memorials requesting retirement.

Even if Chongzhen wished to protect Zhou Yanru, he was now swept along by court and public opinion and had no choice but to permit his retirement.

Wen Tiren achieved his wish and ascended to the position of Chief Grand Secretary.

And so the first peace negotiation with the Jianzhou barbarians died in the womb.

Yet factional strife would not end neatly with Zhou Yanru's retirement. Wen Tiren appeared to be a solitary minister, but in truth he too had a faction—whose members, judging by their native places, could be called the Zhejiang Faction.

And judging by their political positions, they leaned toward the remnants of the eunuch faction.

The officials who had attached themselves to Zhou Yanru could be called the Zhou Faction, or loosely, allies of the Donglin remnants. Once Zhou Yanru fell, the political revenge of the eunuch faction remnants against the Donglin faction remnants began at once.

It seemed that the court was a struggle between two factions, black and white, but in truth the court was a palette—the Zhejiang Faction, the Qi Faction, the Chu Faction, the Zhou Faction, the Fushe, all blooming together. One grand minister could belong to several factions simultaneously, and each faction was intermingled with the others—it was all one sticky mess. This meant that once the topic of factional strife arose, there could never be a day of peace. In the court, factions united against those they disagreed with, with extreme cruelty—they fought until brains were nearly splattered across the Golden Throne Hall.

There even appeared the spectacle of two eunuch faction remnants each accusing the other of being eunuch faction remnants.

As for Guizhou, as for the Southwest—nobody cared at all.

Several days later, riders of the Eastern Depot arrived at Shaoxing in Zhejiang. After making inquiries, they learned that Zhu Xieyuan's family had long since been taken away.

The entire household of over a hundred people had departed on a whale ship. Not a single living thing was left in the residence—even the big yellow watchdog at the gate and the laying hens in the kitchen had been taken. They could only proceed to the second task: digging up ancestral graves.

Lin Qian came from a tenant farmer background; his family had all perished in a flood. He had no ancestral graves to speak of—not even a cenotaph.

The arresting riders were dumbfounded, never expecting the rebel Lin to be so watertight in his arrangements.

This trip to Zhejiang was under strict orders personally issued by the Depot Director himself. If they returned empty-handed, who knew what punishment awaited them.

Fortunately, in Huangyan County of Zhejiang there was a prominent Lin family. Though it had been plundered in earlier years and was now in decline, its ancestral graves still remained.

The riders dared not delay and went straight to Jiufeng Mountain in Huangyan County.

The cemetery of the Huangyan Lin clan had gone untended for many years, overgrown with weeds and quite dilapidated—but the tombstone markers were still there.

The riders confirmed identities through the tombstones, then fetched shovels and spades and dug open every grave in turn. The bones they recovered were piled in one place, ground to bone powder with a huge millstone, and scattered into the Yongning River nearby.

Even the tombstones were not spared—all were dug up, smashed into small pieces with great hammers, and dumped into the river.

Digging to the very end, in one low grave they unearthed two skeletons stacked atop one another. There was no coffin—they were even curled up and piled together, not like a proper burial but rather like people who had been killed and dumped here.

The riders were eager to report back and did not bother to investigate what story lay behind it. They ground these last two skeletons to ash as well.

After finishing everything, the riders still worried it was not enough. They lurked near the old Lin residence for several days, and only when they saw that indeed no one came to pay respects did they return to the capital to report. After this day came the year's end, and before the third year of Zhongxuan arrived, the last traces of the Huangyan Lin clan vanished from this cruel world—even as the Great Ming court busied itself with factional strife and grave-digging.

Guangzhou city was immersed in lively celebration. Along the Pearl River, a thousand sails were festooned with decorations; in the city streets, lion drums shook the heavens. After nightfall, fireworks rose into the sky, ten thousand lanterns reflected on the river, and the sound of firecrackers rejoiced through the night.

Before the new year arrived, the sea trials of four new warships had also been completed.

After the new year, Lin Qian arrived at Nan'ao Island to inspect the new ships.

Mute Huang, Xiao Jiu, and the others were already waiting at Shen'ao Harbor. After disembarking, Lin Qian looked around and saw only the Zhulong and the four new fourth-rate ships moored in the harbor.

"Happy New Year, Your Majesty." Xiao Jiu and the master came forward, enthusiastically cupping their hands in greeting.

Lin Qian returned the greeting with cupped hands and chatted with the two about everyday matters. Since the capital had been moved to Guangzhou, this was his first return to Nan'ao Island, and he felt a fondness for every blade of grass and every tree here.

Learning that since his departure, everything on Nan'ao Island had continued as before—the people still lived in prosperity, and Qing'ao Beach was still packed with people in summer—Lin Qian felt reassured. He asked: "Wasn't there supposed to be a new type of ship? Where is it?"

Xiao Jiu smiled: "I would not dare deceive Your Majesty—the Swallow Ship has already been sent out for sea trials."

"Swallow ships?" Lin Qian's curiosity was piqued.

Xiao Jiu said: "These ships fly across the sea at incredible speed, like a swallow diving with its wings tucked tight, so the shipwrights gave them that name on a whim."

"This ship you've built—interesting." A smile spread across Lin Qian's face.

Xiao Jiu said: "The shipyard has already sent word for the swallow ship to return. Please wait a few days on the island, Your Majesty—it should arrive shortly."

Lin Qian asked: "Where is the swallow ship conducting its sea trials?"

"Near Huishe on Dongning Island."

Bai Qing, who was accompanying them, added: "Quite a few sea bandits have been active around Chiwei Islet lately, so the warship sea trials are held nearby—after all, they make for ready-made targets."

Lin Qian said: "Perfect timing, then—let's go take a look! Bring these four new ships along as well."

"Yes!" Everyone acknowledged and went off to make preparations.

Soon the whistle sounded, and the naval officers and men filed out of the barracks to board and make ready.

While preparations for departure were underway, Xiao Jiu said: "Your Majesty, these four ships have not yet been named."

Lin Qian turned and gazed out, watching the four fourth-rate ships rise and fall on the waves.

The four ships were brand new, nearly identical in form—straight, hard lines, towering bulwarks, like a row of floating sea walls. Thousands of abaca ropes, shrouds, and stays slanted from masts and yards down to the gunwales, crisscrossing into a fine web that from a distance looked like a stretch of dense forest.

Compared to the trading vessels coming and going around them, the contrast was striking.

Lin Qian thought for a moment, then said: "Let's call them Jingming, Anming, Weiming, and Zhenming."

These names had all been prepared in advance by the Navy Staff Office—Lin Qian had merely picked a few he liked.

Xiao Jiu acknowledged and ran off to assign the ship names to the four captains.

An hour later, all four ships had completed their departure preparations. Xiao Jiu said: "Your Majesty, please choose one as your flagship."

Lin Qian walked to the pier, where the four captains stood at attention, backs ramrod straight.

Lin Qian had the four men each report their names.

The four shouted their names at the top of their lungs. Three of them were from the first graduating class of the Naval Academy, and one was from the second class. Lin Qian smiled upon hearing this and said: "A second-class graduate serving as captain of a fourth-rate ship—impressive."

The second-class graduate was named Huang Beigui. His accent was strange, and he was dark and thin. He said: "All thanks to Your Majesty's cultivation. I will serve to the death!" Bai Qing said: "He grew up in Luzon and served as a sailor on Manila galleons for many years. Only after we signed the Treaty of Manila did he follow a merchant caravan to Fujian and join the navy. Among the second-class graduates, he ranked first in his graduating scores."

Xiao Jiu added: "The swallow ship was also inspired by Captain Huang's suggestion."

Huang Beigui smiled sheepishly: "The master craftsman flatters me. I merely happened to see it and mentioned it in passing."

Lin Qian said: "The way you all talk about it only makes me more curious—what exactly does the new ship look like?"

Xiao Jiu teased: "Hard to explain in just a few words. Huishe is only a day's sail away—why not see for yourself, Your Majesty?" Lin Qian laughed heartily: "Alright, then I'll go see it myself. Set sail!"

With that, Lin Qian led his entourage aboard Huang Beigui's Jingming.

On this trip, besides Bai Qing and Xiao Jiu, He Sai also came aboard.

Having traveled far and wide over the years, He Sai was something of an overseas intelligence agent, thoroughly familiar with the Dutch situation. Along the way, Lin Qian could also consult him for intelligence on Batavia.

The fleet departed from Nan'ao Island and reached Huishe the next day. After the conquest of Jiangxi and Yunnan, the number of Da Xia prisoners of war had skyrocketed, and many of them were assigned to Huishe, solving at once the two major problems of labor shortage and poor labor protection.

According to Master Chu the stonemason, Huishe's annual cement output had now reached over seventeen thousand tons—double what it was when Lin Qian last visited.

This trip was for inspecting the navy, so Lin Qian didn't linger at Huishe. Following the pier's guidance, he sailed toward the swallow ship's sea trial area, in the direction of Chiwei Islet. On the way, Lin Qian stood at the side of the Jingming, hand on the railing, gazing at the vast sea and sky, and said to He Sai: "Old He, how do you think our Da Xia navy compares to the Dutch?"

He Sai wore a square-cornered scholar's cap, a sapphire-blue Daoist robe, and satin boots—his entire appearance identical to that of a wealthy Han merchant. Even his tone of speech, his mannerisms, and his facial features had come to resemble a Han Chinese's.

He said: "The Da Xia navy far surpasses the Dutch. If I may say so, Batavia is already a prize within Your Majesty's grasp."

Lin Qian gave a light laugh and asked in Spanish: "Who is the Governor-General of the Dutch East India Company now?"

"Ah, er... it is Philip Lucaszoon, Your Excellency."

"What kind of man is he? Tell me the truth."

He Sai switched back to Spanish, and unable to immediately switch back to euphemistic Eastern phrasing, said bluntly: "This man is Coen's most loyal executioner—a devil and heretic who deserves to burn in hell. When Coen carried out the massacre in the Banda Islands, this Lucaszoon was his number-one enforcer. Coen believed violence was the guarantee of trade, but this Lucaszoon is even more extreme and more greedy than Coen—he'd happily rob people outright. He's a thoroughgoing pirate through and through."

Lin Qian asked: "How did a man like that become Governor-General?"

He Sai said scornfully: "It must be that heretic creed of money above all else. After Coen died, the Dutch East India Company went through several Governors-General in quick succession.

One focused on developing Batavia—and was met with two great sieges by the Sultanate of Mataram.

One pursued peaceful trade—and the Dutch in Japan were bankrupted by promissory notes... ah, no offense intended, Your Highness."

Lin Qian curled a smug smile: "No matter."

He Sai continued, letting the sea breeze blow over him: "Then there was the navigator Governor-General—the famous Hendrik Brouwer. But Sultan Muda suffered a crushing defeat, and the Strait of Malacca closed its doors completely to the Dutch..."

Lin Qian, hearing the parts he liked, couldn't help but laugh aloud in the sea wind.

He Sai said: "Given the poor performance of these Governors-General, the company's shareholders had no choice but to bring back a hardline Governor-General.

Oh, and that Hendrik Brouwer—he had some real skill. Rumor has it he charted a new route that cut the sailing time from Holland to Batavia by a full six months. Good God!

Some Spanish captains speculated that they'd somehow bored into the center of the earth!"

Lin Qian said: "They were simply sailing the westerlies of the Southern Hemisphere."

"What? Huh? How does Your Highness know that? No, I'm not doubting Your Highness, it's just... how does Your Highness know?"

He Sai was instantly stunned—both amazed that Lin Qian knew the answer and incredulous that the answer was so simple.

In this Age of Sail, a route that could shorten the voyage between Europe and Asia was worth more than gold or silver could measure—it was a state-level secret of the highest order.

Like discovering a stable wormhole in the space age.

And Lin Qian, without an astronomical telescope, without any spacefaring capability, had directly given the coordinates of that wormhole.

Was that something a human being could do?

Lin Qian couldn't explain this question. He certainly couldn't say he'd observed it—after all, he'd never actually observed the Southern Hemisphere. So he could only brush it off: "It was written in the Yongle Encyclopedia."

He Sai never expected that a route Europeans treasured as a priceless secret had been discovered by Ming dynasty people two hundred years ago and even written into a popular reference work.

The stark contrast left him stunned on the spot. It took him a long while to compose himself, and he murmured in Chinese: "No wonder the Han people hold their ancestors in such awe—" Lin Qian said: "Enough idle talk. What about Dutch military strength? How many ships do they have in total?"

Since Coen's death, Batavia had banned Han merchant ships from entering.

After the promissory note affair and the Battle of Malacca, that ban had grown even stricter.

The Dutch treated every Han Chinese as a potential spy with equal suspicion, and even the Grand Xia military intelligence department only had a rough estimate of Dutch military strength. "Approximately..."

He Sai was about to answer when suddenly a red signal flare burst in the distance.

Then the lookout atop the mainmast of the Jingming shouted: "Enemy ships! Eight nautical miles due east!"

Lin Qian pulled out his telescope and peered due east, and sure enough, he spotted a small oared boat sailing on the sea—though "sailing" was more like fleeing. Because on its port and starboard sides, two eagle ships were clinging to it relentlessly, firing signal flares from time to time, clearly guiding the warships behind them.

Lin Qian shifted his gaze further back, and sure enough, he saw an extremely slender, swift vessel racing across the water. The ship moved at tremendous speed, its wake trailing a white line behind it, truly like a swallow skimming across the surface.

So this must be the swallow ship!

Yahei

Pink Round