Chapter 376: Great Xia's Glass and the South Sea Fleet

A nobody like Su Minggang being beheaded — almost no one on Lin Qian's side cared.

Lu Ruoteng continued: "Aside from the gold and silver, we also found a large number of bills of exchange and bonds, totaling roughly eighty thousand Dutch guilders." Bai Qing asked: "What's that?"

"It's this." Lu Ruoteng rummaged through the treasure chest, shoving gold coins aside, the golden gleam dazzling those around until halos swam before their eyes. Finally he found a wooden box, opened it, and inside was a stack of stiff paper.

Lin Qian took one — the bill of exchange was made of parchment, covered in intricate patterns, written in cursive Dutch, with the Arabic numeral ten thousand. "According to the prisoners, these are Amsterdam Bank time bills, redeemable for cash in the Netherlands proper, and in Batavia they're also used as money." Bai Qing suddenly understood: "Like treasure notes?"

Lu Ruoteng gave an awkward smile: "For us, yes, like treasure notes. For the Dutch, not necessarily..."

Lin Qian examined them carefully — every bill of exchange and bond bore a counterfoil seal, the drawer's signature, and on the back, the endorser's and endorsee's handwritten signatures — nearly identical to the rules of modern commercial acceptance bills.

This meant that with the endorsement chain broken, once these bills reached Great Xia's hands they were worthless paper — the bank wouldn't honor them, and no downstream party would take them. True, Great Xia could forge signatures, but the Dutch could also verify from the drawer's and prior holders' side; either way, the cost of spending them would be very high. Moreover, after this battle, whether the Dutch would even be willing to trade with Great Xia again was an open question.

But this wasn't entirely bad news — after this battle, any bill that had circulated through the VOC would most likely be impossible to honor.

For example, Van Dijk held bills worth a hundred thousand florins; based on the signatures on the instruments, the prior endorser was the VOC's Van der Meer, and the holder was Dirk van Dijk.

And ordinary Dutch merchants, knowing the VOC had been plundered by Great Xia, couldn't tell whether these were legitimate transfers or forged signatures by Great Xia — fearing the bank would refuse acceptance, they'd refuse to take them.

The handwriting experts of the Amsterdam Bank, whether out of caution or greed, would very likely refuse to honor them, or even confiscate the bills. And to make matters worse, not only were the bounty rewards paid in bills of exchange, but these Dutch craftsmen's and employees' wages were also paid in bills. Of course, there were also account transfers, and the VOC also had internal transfer-type financial services and financial products, such as bonds and stocks. In short, with Batavia fallen, the wealth of the Dutch residents in the city shrank dramatically — or even vanished to zero in an instant.

A bunch of people with no money — where could they flee? They could only stay put and work for Great Xia.

To win these people over, Great Xia could also honor these bills, deposits, and bonds at a certain ratio.

Human nature inherently hates loss more than it enjoys gain, so this move was far more clever than simply paying Dutch craftsmen wages. And Great Xia, having acquired bills, debts, and equity at a discount, also preserved the possibility of squeezing the Dutch someday.

For instance, selling these financial assets on the secondary market at a discount for cash, or counting them into war reparations during peace negotiations, or dumping them on the European market to crash prices, destroying the VOC's credit and triggering market panic.

There were plenty of methods — financial games have their own unique rules, and if the Dutch dared to play, they had to dare to accept the consequences.

Thinking this far, Lin Qian put the ten-thousand bill back, told Lu Ruoteng to store the bills securely, and shared his idea of honoring the Dutch instruments — telling Lu Ruoteng to first write it up as a notice and post it to reassure the people.

As for the exchange ratio — this expedition hadn't brought any financial talent aboard, so the terms and details would need further study.

"What's this?" Bai Qing casually picked up a deerskin pouch from the treasure chest; opening it, inside were rice-grain-sized crystals of pure white. Bai Qing took one out and examined it in the sunlight — the thing was transparent within, faintly yellow, like frozen ice crystals, its edges reflecting fine silvery lines of light.

"This is Borneo's diamond — what we commonly call 'diamond'." Lu Ruoteng said.

Bai Qing stared for a long while, then put the little grain back into the pouch: "Doesn't seem like anything special."

He Sai said: "These are uncut rough stones — once polished they look beautiful. Polishing gems and cutting glass also uses diamonds. Don't be fooled — this small pouch of diamonds could trade for those two big gold ingots over there."

Bai Qing clicked his tongue repeatedly, tied the diamond pouch tight, and tossed it back into the chest.

Lin Qian said: "Speaking of glass — have you found Batavia's glass workshop?"

Lu Ruoteng's face showed embarrassment; he had the chest carried down, then said: "The workshop's been found, but unfortunately the craftsman caught dysentery during the siege and died of it."

Lin Qian's expression darkened: "No matter. Let's go take a look first."

The group rode past the canals, and with Lu Ruoteng leading the way, headed southwest through Batavia.

Passing the fountain outlet of the Pankoran reservoir, from afar they saw a ring of Chinese and Western craftsmen gathered together.

Standing at the innermost ring was Ge Hong, who was praising the Dutch water supply system without cease.

"Collecting water at the top, letting it flow and purify itself, drawing it out through fountains, blending scenery with function — exquisite!"

"Hangzhou has been brackish land since ancient times, its well water bitter and salty. Since the Tang dynasty we've drawn West Lake water into the city, using the same water-conduction method, called the 'Six Wells.' But we only trap the water in wells and ponds — when it comes to the ingenuity of springing fountains, we're slightly inferior to the red barbarians."

Ge Hong's words drew nods from the surrounding Great Xia craftsmen, while the Dutch craftsmen straightened their backs, smiles on their faces.

Ge Hong then asked: "How many such fountains are there in the city?"

Van Dijk said: "Ah? Only one — isn't one enough? Building such a fountain is a major project, and too many springs would lower the water pressure, making outflow inconvenient."

At this, Ge Hong curled his lip again, unimpressed with the reservoir's design.

Since Batavia's fall, craftsmen from both Great Xia and Holland had often gathered to exchange ideas.

Great Xia excelled at rapid, large-scale water management, while the Dutch were skilled at building long-term, fine-detailed works — each had their strengths, and they could learn from each other, complementing their weaknesses.

In any case, as far as Lin Qian was concerned, these people would all be Great Xia craftsmen in the future — all one family.

Seeing Lin Qian's procession approaching, the craftsmen stopped their discussion and retreated to the roadside to make way.

Lin Qian reined in his horse, exchanged a few words with Ge Hong, telling him to come along, and also called Van Dijk to join — while sorting through the company documents, Lu Ruoteng had seen Van Dijk's résumé, which stated he'd apprenticed as a glass blower in his youth; perhaps he could be of help.

Since they'd happened to run into him, they'd bring him along — treating a dead horse as a live one.

As they rode together, Lin Qian asked with concern: "In the days since the city fell, quite a few ronin and bandits have taken the chance to cause trouble, so I've sent men to protect each district. The soldiers on guard haven't given you or your family any trouble, have they?"

Van Dijk immediately shook his head in fear: "The Great Xia soldiers are very kind. Your Highness's army is the most disciplined I've ever seen. Yes, yes." Lin Qian smiled: "The current alert is only temporary. Once the fighting is fully settled, you and your family can continue living in Batavia, and if you want to return to Holland, you're free to leave at any time."

Van Dijk let out a long breath and said repeatedly: "Thank you, thank you, Your Highness!"

In truth, everything Lin Qian said was empty words to win hearts — none of the Dutch craftsmen he had his eye on would be allowed to leave, and neither would those who had bullied the Han, those who had committed war crimes, or the company executives and their families who had lorded it over the colony. Not one would escape.

But of course, coming in with a whip and forcing craftsmen to work would be too stupid. Even landlords knew to leave the peasants some surplus grain, and even capitalists knew to pay wages.

For someone like Van Dijk — sensitive, timid, family-oriented, and henpecked — he absolutely couldn't be pushed to the wall. If forced to stay, he'd surely flee in fear; but given a choice, he wouldn't leave.

After all, safety in Great Xia was certain, whereas if he returned to Holland, who knew how the VOC's executives would deal with him.

So along the way, Lin Qian proactively chatted and cultivated the relationship, and by the time they reached the glass workshop's door, Van Dijk was already verbally devoted.

Lin Qian dismounted and saw before him an open-roofed shed, its walls of rammed earth supporting wooden trusses.

The moment the door was pushed open, a scorching wave of heat struck the face. Inside, the light was dim; the orange-red glow of the kiln mouth lit half the room, dust motes drifted slowly in the light beams, and the floor was packed red earth mixed with charcoal ash and fine shards of glass.

Great Xia soldiers already stood all around the workshop, and inside were six workers — when the door was pushed open, they all jumped in fright, pressing themselves against the walls. Lin Qian entered and looked over their faces: three were natives, clearly common laborers; two were Dutch, fifteen or sixteen years old, likely apprentices; and there was one Han Chinese, under thirty, who looked honest enough.

Lin Qian pointed at the Han man: "What's your name, and what do you do?"

"I... I'm Chen Shiyi, the cold worker here — I polish glass." The Han man picked up a wine bottle as he spoke, showing off its smooth lip. Glass polishing didn't require high skill, and Han craftsmen were unmatched at polishing jade — presumably that was why this workshop had chosen Chen Shiyi as its cold worker.

Lin Qian pointed at the others: "What do they all do?"

Chen Shiyi pointed at the three natives, introduced their names, then said: "They're general laborers — they tend the fire, clear the ash, and grind the materials." Chen Shiyi then clasped his hands and said: "These two young masters are..."

Lin Qian frowned: "What 'young masters'!"

"Yes, yes. These two red barbarians..."

Lin Qian said: "Call them Dutchmen."

"Yes — these two Dutchmen are apprentices to the head... the Dutch master craftsman; they assist and learn the trade."

Lin Qian sized up the two Dutchmen: "Have they learned it yet?"

Chen Shiyi shook his head: "Blowing they might manage, but as for mixing the ingredients, controlling the temperature, and dipping the batch — I haven't seen either of them do it."

Lin Qian felt a slight headache coming on: "Light the furnace. Let's test these two's skill — make a convex lens."

Chen Shiyi said: "Right away!" He then relayed the message to the two apprentices in Dutch, and everyone in the workshop began lighting fires and bustling about.

Lin Qian then called over Ge Hong and Fan Ti, and had them stand behind the two apprentices, openly stealing the craft. With guns pointed at them, the Dutch apprentices dared not say a word of objection. Lin Qian watched as the two apprentices first lifted the cloth covers, revealing several large baskets below, filled with things like river sand, plant ash, and lime. The apprentices took out small shovels and oiled paper and began mixing the ingredients, then poured the mixture into a crucible, while three natives were already tending the furnace with practiced ease. The room quickly became a wave of heat, and everyone was drenched in sweat.

Before placing the crucible into the furnace, the two apprentices conferred in hushed tones, looking especially hesitant.

Lin Qian asked: "What are they arguing about?"

Chen Shiyi said: "They're discussing whether to open the master's small wooden box… Inside that box should be the secret ingredients. Every time the master added them, we all had to withdraw outside the workshop. Even these two Dutch apprentices don't know what's in the box."

Lin Qian grew interested: "Bring it over and open it."

Fan Ti hastily warned: "You must be careful — very, very careful."

To anyone else, these words would have seemed completely out of left field, but Lin Qian understood at once — this public engineer knew what was in that box! This man's glass-blowing skill was at least above that of the two apprentices!

Lin Qian did not make a fuss. He wanted Fan Ti to confess on his own.

Even if Fan Ti held out and refused to confess, Lin Qian had his ways — he'd heard that Fan Ti's wife was a very money-grubbing person, and people like that were easy to buy off. Before long, the apprentices brought a wooden box from the master's room, set it carefully on the table, then found tools and pried open the lock. When opened, it contained two kinds of medicinal powder, one black and one white, separated in the middle by a small wooden strip, clearly divided.

No one could recognize what they were.

Lin Qian gave Ge Hong a look, but Fan Ti volunteered: "Let me do it."

Lin Qian nodded in agreement. Fan Ti stepped forward, picked up a small wooden stick, and examined it with a show of expertise: "This is black magnesia earth and white arsenic." These were two technical terms, and the interpreter was sweating profusely, unable to translate them.

Ge Hong laughed: "Then let me take a look."

Fan Ti warned: "Sir, these two substances are poisonous. Please be careful."

Ge Hong removed a hairpin from his head, picked up a bit of the black and white powder, and then said: "This black one is wumingyi — also called tuzi or tiesha. It's a type of ore. The blue pigment used in Jingdezhen's blue-and-white porcelain has this added to it."

Lin Qian had watched some antique-appraisal shows and knew there were two kinds of blue pigment. One was sumali blue, which had rarely been imported since the early Ming; in the late Ming, domestic pigments were used, such as pingdeng blue, whose characteristic was high manganese and low iron.

So that meant this wumingyi was manganese oxide.

Ge Hong picked up some of the white powder: "This is white arsenic — after refining, it becomes arsenic trioxide."

Everyone was stunned.

The two great secret ingredients — one was poison, the other was ceramic pigment. No wonder the Daxia craftsmen had racked their brains and still couldn't figure out the glass formula.

Even the two Dutch apprentices looked shocked; their hands trembled as they added the ingredients to the crucible. They themselves had no idea how much of the stuff to use. Lin Qian, meanwhile, had someone bring a stool, and he went to wait under the awning outside the workshop. The others also moved small folding stools and sat beside him.

"The war is over, and the fleet will be returning north shortly. But Batavia's position is important, and with the Dutch fleet still a threat, we need to leave forces to help defend it. I intend to establish a new fleet — call it the South Sea Fleet."

Strictly speaking, Batavia was near the Java Sea, and the South China Sea was only north of the Java Sea.

But with the VOC driven out of Southeast Asia, Aceh beaten into the ground, and Spain licking its wounds in hiding after signing the treaty, Daxia was now the sole maritime hegemon of East Asia and Southeast Asia.

The Java Sea, the Sulu Sea, the Sulawesi Sea, the Banda Sea — all of them were now effectively within Daxia's sphere of influence.

The new fleet could naturally be called whatever it wanted. If Lin Qian so wished, everything north of Oceania could be designated as the South China Sea.

Lin Qian continued: "The twelve Dutch warships captured this time, along with the three fourth-rate ships Anming, Weiming, and Zhenming, are all to be transferred to the South Sea Fleet. Bailangzai will serve as acting fleet commander."

"Yes." Bailangzai said.

"Your Majesty, coconuts."

The weather was hot, and talking for so long was bound to make one thirsty. Geng Wu, showing good sense, had found a large pile of coconuts, with small holes opened at the top and reeds inserted as straws, distributing them to everyone.

Lin Qian took one and had a taste — sweet and mellow, with a rich coconut fragrance, a smooth and silky texture, and an oily aroma in the aftertaste. It was completely different from ordinary coconuts.

Zheng Zhilong took a sip and his face lit up with surprise: "Where did these coconuts come from?"

During his time as Governor-General of the agricultural company, he had drunk plenty of coconuts, but never one this sweet or with such a rich coconut fragrance. The gap between this and ordinary green coconuts was so vast they might as well have been different varieties.

Geng Wu said: "It truly is another variety. The natives call it 'fragrant coconut.' It only grows sporadically in the wild."

Lin Qian praised: "Java truly has abundant natural resources. For Batavia, we won't use the usual methods of governing a colony. We'll treat it as an overseas province and station a civil official system of prefectures and counties there."

An overseas province was Daxia's own territory, and it was to be given the same governance, policies, and laws as the homeland. Before Batavia, the only place with equal overseas-province treatment was Dongning Island.

Because the initial investment in an overseas province was enormous — almost a fiscal black hole — only places of extreme geopolitical importance and abundant resources were suitable for establishing overseas provinces.

Below overseas provinces were direct colonies, governed by a Governor-General, subject to systems and rules different from the homeland, economically emphasizing plunder over construction. Typical examples were Daxia's Water Chenla and the Dutch Banda Islands.

Of course, Daxia's direct colonies plundered quite gently — they didn't go so far as to imitate the Dutch and commit massacres.

Continuing down by degree of control came concessions, vassal states, and spheres of influence.

Currently, Daxia's concessions consisted of one location — Hook Cape on Luzon Island. Although Water Chenla was legally a concession as well, in substance it was not. As for what could be called vassal states and spheres of influence, there were currently Guangnan and Annam. If handled properly, one more could be added in the future — Mataram. Lin Qian said to Bailangzai: "The South Sea Fleet headquarters will be stationed at Batavia. You'll need to defend a vast sea area stretching from Malacca and Palembang in the west to the Spice Islands in the east. The defensive pressure will be heavy, and this heavy burden can only be shouldered by you."

"Rest assured, Your Majesty!" Bailangzai said with a cupped-fist salute.

Lin Qian drank a few mouthfuls of coconut juice, thought for a moment, then called Ge Hong out and instructed: "Anzu Island uses the careening method to repair ships. That method suits small vessels — for large ships it leaves hidden dangers. It would be better to build four dry docks.

Also, Batavia's canals need to be managed. This place already has a high incidence of disease, and canals that are like open sewers are the biggest source of infection." Ge Hong moved a small folding stool over and sat down: "Your Majesty speaks truly. In the past few days I've looked around the city. The Dutch waterworks are well-built, but the canals are filthy and stinking — entirely because waste is dumped directly into the rivers.

As long as we clean up the shantytowns, control discharges, strictly prohibit the dumping of feces and slop water, and bring in night-soil collectors to go door to door gathering waste, the canals will soon run clear again."

Lu Ruoteng said with disdain: "In our Daxia, collecting night soil is a profitable business. The cities stay clean, the countryside gets fertilizer — killing two birds with one stone. Night-soil men often fight over collection territories.

These red barbarians, though — they just dump it straight into the river. The fields lack fertilizer, the water turns foul — losing on both counts."

Lin Qian said: "Europe has vast land and sparse population, with well-developed animal husbandry and abundant stable manure. Their agriculture is extensive, so collecting human waste yields no profit. We can't entirely blame them for being dirty and stupid.

Of course, we also can't entirely let them off the hook for stupidity. I've heard that Paris has a law prohibiting the dumping of feces from heights, but the city's governance was so poor that they eventually compromised — requiring people to shout three times to warn passersby before dumping."

Hearing of such a bizarre spectacle, everyone was stunned for a moment, then burst into loud laughter. Zheng Zhilong laughed until tears came out.

Bai Qing laughed so hard he slapped his thighs, wiping tears as he said: "If that's the case, then with Batavia merged into Daxia, the common folk will finally get to live good lives." Outside the workshop, Lin Qian took the opportunity to tell tales of Europe's urban public health oddities, and everyone kept laughing.

Inside the workshop, the two Dutch apprentices were on the verge of tears. The contents of the crucible had turned blackish-green and were constantly bubbling, with no sign of vitrification whatsoever.

This pot of stuff couldn't even make a glass bead, let alone a convex lens.

Seeing this, Chen Shiyi said in broken Dutch: "What's going on?"

One of the apprentices, his voice trembling, wept: "The secret ingredients must have been added wrong. Even if we'd added none at all, it shouldn't look like this… It's over, it's all over…"

Chen Shiyi said: "Then fire up another batch."

The apprentice nearly collapsed, clutching his hair and wailing: "No, I can't smelt it, I don't know how... This is it, I'm done for, wuwuwu..."

Chen Shiyi saw this and pleaded with the personal guard standing watch inside the room, but the guard only stared at him coldly, refusing to engage.

At this moment, Fan Di spoke up: "How about... let me give it a try."

The two apprentices were completely at a loss, and stepped aside from the furnace. Fan Di went over, dumped out the waste material in the crucible, then re-mixed the batch — of the two secret ingredients, he used only a very small pinch.

About two hours later, Fan Di inserted an iron rod through the kiln opening and dipped it into the glass melt. The molten glass showed a light tea-green color; against the firelight inside the kiln, it was translucent throughout, with no cloudy floating particles, and it was viscous enough to cling to the rod, as if he had lifted up honey.

One apprentice said in surprise: "That's it, that's exactly what the master made!"

Fan Di wiped the sweat from his forehead, sealed the kiln to lower the temperature, and after a moment dipped the iron rod into the glass melt again.

This time the viscosity of the glass had clearly increased — once hung on the iron rod, it would not drip off.

Fan Di rotated the iron rod at a steady speed, and the glass mass gradually wrapped around the rod. Then he gave it a gentle flick, and the glass separated cleanly. He pulled the rod out — on the tip was a lump of glass the size of a chicken egg.

Then, while slowly rotating the iron rod, he shaped the glass on a heat-resistant stone slab into a round disc-shaped blank. While the glass had not yet fully hardened, he used various tools to refine the curvature of the convex lens.

Afterward, he clamped the blank with long-handled iron tongs and sent it into the annealing chamber at the top of the kiln, letting it cool slowly with the furnace.

This step required a long wait. Lin Qian stayed near the workshop and finished his dinner, then sipped coconut juice while chatting with Bai Qing, Zheng Zhilong, and the others about amusing wartime anecdotes — laughter and cheerful talk all around, the atmosphere utterly relaxed, and time passed quickly.

Early the next morning, Lin Qian arrived at the workshop gate again. Fan Di and the workshop's craftsmen were already waiting at the entrance.

Fan Di stepped forward, holding up a small box. Geng Wu took the box, inspected it for any problems, then opened it in front of Lin Qian — inside lay a piece of black silk cloth.

Lifting the silk cloth, beneath it was an entire convex lens, crystal clear in the morning light, like a magnificent piece of crystal.

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