Chapter 407: The Denglai Shock

At dawn, a small single-masted Fujian junk emerged from the thin mist, the Great Xia envoy standing at the bow, gazing toward the Denglai naval camp.

He could see the Penglai Pavilion on Danya Mountain appearing through the fog. At the foot of the mountain, the blue-grey stone walls of Dengzhou Naval City stretched along the coast, crenellations running like teeth, with three or four fortresses built at protruding points of the walls, cannon muzzles poking out, aimed directly at the outer sea shipping lane.

When the ship sailed within five li, Denglai naval warships came forward to interrogate it.

The envoy announced himself: "I am Ji Bai, envoy of Xia, here specifically to see Governor Sun."

The naval soldiers dared not be negligent, and guided the small Fujian junk toward the naval stockade.

As the ship approached the stockade, seventy or eighty masts of varying heights emerged from the fog — over thirty Fujian junks lay anchored in the outer harbor.

Ji Bai silently noted the ships' sizes and cannon counts one by one in his mind.

The iron gate of the stockade opened, and the small Fujian junk entered under the escort of Ming patrol boats. Inside the stockade there were also several dozen warships, all converted Fujian junks, with cannon mounted on nearly every open deck.

These had all been purchased from the Dutch cannon foundry in Nagasaki.

Ji Bai did some quick mental arithmetic — the Denglai naval fleet totaled over seventy warships, and counting the large auxiliary vessels, the fleet numbered over a hundred. The scale was by no means small, and he felt a secret unease.

Compared to the Battle of Changsheng Island back then, the Denglai fleet's tonnage had nearly doubled, and red barbarian cannon had gone from nonexistent to being equipped on nearly every ship.

This was all thanks to the importance the Tianqi and Chongzhen emperors placed on coastal defense — it was Wei Zhongxian and Sun Yuanhua who squeezed silver from the teeth of the Nine Border armies to buy weapons and hire instructors, building up this foundation.

This strength was not strong, nor was it weak — at the very least, it was more than enough to deal with Luo Dagu's Sea Wolf fleet blockading the Yangtze.

Ji Bai knew well the situation during the Jiangnan campaign.

At that time, there were still ten thousand Tianxiong Army troops north of the Yangtze. If the Denglai fleet could help transport troops, even if it couldn't turn the tide of battle, it would cause considerable trouble for Great Xia.

At least it would be better than lying in port waiting to die as they were now.

As he walked forward, Ji Bai inwardly heaped scorn upon the Ming court's strategic vision.

Soon the ship reached the pier, and Ji Bai was led by Ming soldiers to the study in the stockade's Regional Commander's office. The moment he entered, he saw Denglai Governor Sun Yuanhua staring at him with unfriendly eyes.

Ji Bai had seen this kind of scene many times and paid it no mind. He stepped forward, performed the salute, and stated his purpose.

Sun Yuanhua did not take up the topic. Instead, he took a sip of tea and said with sarcasm: "The Xia King's clearing and surveying of farmland in Jiangnan — what a thunderous display of methods."

From his accent, one could tell he was from South Zhili.

Ji Bai's heart gave a sudden lurch. The Jiangnan gentry had been killed swiftly and in great numbers, and those people's connections were tangled in a thousand threads — there was no guarantee Sun Yuanhua's family members hadn't been killed along with them.

This persuasion attempt was probably doomed now.

He could only steel himself and say: "Jiangnan has only just been pacified, everything is in its infancy, so there are inevitably places where matters were handled too hastily. I have come, however, to discuss the long-term livelihood of the entire military and civilian population of Denglai with Your Excellency."

Seeing Sun Yuanhua unmoved, Ji Bai played his trump card, producing a letter from his bosom.

"This is a personal letter from Academy Head Xu, which I was asked to present to Your Excellency."

Xu Guangqi was Sun Yuanhua's teacher, who had instructed him in Western mathematics, geometric surveying, and the art of cannon construction. Even if Sun Yuanhua would not give face to Lin Qian, he would never refuse his esteemed teacher's honor.

Sure enough, after Sun Yuanhua read the letter, his expression softened somewhat.

He knew all about Great Xia's capture of Nanjing, the sacrifice at Xiaoling, and Li Zicheng's defeat of Hong Chengchou.

Add to that Chongzhen forcing Lu Xiangsheng to his death and indulging Gao Qiqian — that chilled his heart as well.

As things stood now, the Great Ming had lost its momentum, and Sun Yuanhua had long harbored the intention of submitting to Great Xia.

But recently, news of the Jiangnan Temple Wailing Case had reached him, filling Sun Yuanhua with deep unease.

He was a man of household retainers. He was not corrupt in office, governed his household strictly, and owned little land. Aside from the customary practices of concealed registration, scattered tax evasion, and resisting levies, he had no other crimes of oppressing the countryside.

Since his family had not participated in the Temple Wailing Case, they were not heavily implicated — they were only stripped of all their examination degrees and ordered to repay back taxes. Though the family fortunes had declined, at least their lives were spared.

Sun Yuanhua harbored resentment in his heart, but not enough to let that resentment dictate his decisions.

However, the same could not necessarily be said for his subordinates.

Sun Yuanhua sighed and said: "The Xia King's clearing of the gentry to benefit the common people — the intention was good, but the methods were far too hasty.

The Great Ming has a policy of transferring southern troops north. Under my command there is one Vice Regional Commander and three Mobile Corps Commander generals who are from Jiangnan.

Originally, submitting to Great Xia would have been a simple matter — a single word from me would have sufficed. But their family members have been killed, and they bear a deep blood grudge against Great Xia. This matter is no longer so simple; it requires careful planning."

Ji Bai said: "If this succeeds, Denglai will not see a single clash of arms, and all the officers, soldiers, and civilians of the city will be preserved. I entrust this to Your Excellency."

After thinking for a moment, Sun Yuanhua said: "The Denglai naval stockade is a place of contention — Your Excellency the Envoy cannot remain here. To the north of this place lies Daheishan Island, where there is a beacon tower. The garrison troops there are my trusted men. Please go wait on that island for the time being. Once the situation has settled, I will send someone to inform Your Excellency."

Upon hearing this, Ji Bai solemnly clasped his hands and said: "Your Excellency's heart is with the common people, and you understand what is right on a grand scale. I admire this immensely. Once the matter is accomplished, I will surely report Your Excellency's merits to the King."

Sun Yuanhua gave a light laugh and joked: "As long as the Xia King doesn't take this old man's head as well, I will be perfectly content."

After a moment, Sun Yuanhua's smile faded, and he asked again: "Does Your Excellency speak the Liaodong dialect?"

"I do." Ji Bai was originally from Fujian, but since his mission to the Yi Dynasty, he had remained on Jiao Island, dealing with Liaodong refugees day in and day out, and had picked up the accent.

Sun Yuanhua nodded: "Good! Then in a moment, I must trouble Your Excellency to endure some physical hardship."

Just as the two were meeting.

Zhang Tao, Vice Regional Commander of the Denglai naval forces, was making his rounds in the stockade. He had been in a gloomy mood lately, finding fault everywhere in the camp. The officers and soldiers knew his family had suffered misfortune, and no one dared provoke him — they all avoided him.

Zhang Tao first went to the stables and cursed out the horse feeders, then went to the pier and berated those responsible for mooring lines.

Suddenly, he spotted a small single-masted Fujian junk moored at the pier. His heart stirred, and he asked the mooring soldier: "Which sentry post does this ship belong to? Why haven't I seen it before?"

The soldier answered honestly: "It arrived this morning, from the outer sea."

Zhang Tao's heart stirred. Lowering his voice, he asked: "An envoy? From the north, or from the south?"

After Hong Chengchou's defeat and Li Zicheng's assumption of the kingly title, everyone could see that the Zhu family's empire was on the verge of collapse. The Jianzhou barbarians in the north had already sent envoys to recruit him several times, and each time Sun Yuanhua had berated and driven them away.

Presumably the Great Xia in the south could no longer sit still either.

The soldier said: "That man wore no queue, and his skin was fair — he looked like a southerner."

"Mm." Zhang Tao grunted in acknowledgment, his expression dark, lost in thought.

A moment later, Ji Bai was dragged out of the Regional Commander's office by two men. Ji Bai struggled ceaselessly, shouting: "What are you doing? Let go! Didn't you hear me? Let go now! We treated you with courtesy, and you dare to lay rough hands on us like this? Let go!"

The two soldiers dragged Ji Bai to the pier and released him, letting him fall to the ground.

Ji Bai got up, glared at the two men, gave a cold snort, and returned to his ship, saying: "Let's go!"

Zhang Tao watched this scene coldly, noncommittal. After the small boat sailed out of the stockade, he called over a trusted confidant and whispered a few words.

His trusted subordinate nodded in understanding, summoned some men, and took a fast boat out of the harbor.

Before long, a single-masted small Fujian junk sailed out, heading first for Big Black Mountain Island.

According to the original agreement, he was supposed to head east after leaving port to first report to the fleet; if he failed to return after a long while, the North Sea Fleet would bombard Denglai.

But he didn't want to delay the grand plan of surrender, so he prepared to wait temporarily at Big Black Mountain Island, disembark himself, and then have the small Fujian junk go report their safety to the fleet.

After sailing for a quarter-hour, Ji Bai was in the cabin organizing his observations of the Denglai naval warships.

The clerk dipped his brush and wrote: "Six large Fujian junks of the first class, twenty-four Guangdong ships of four hundred liao, forty-two Fujian junks of two hundred liao——"

Suddenly a black dot appeared in the southwestern sky. There were plenty of fishermen in this area, so the lookout initially paid it no mind—but the black dot gradually drew closer, clearly heading straight for their ship.

The lookout called out: "Enemy vessel, southwest, two thousand paces!"

At that shout, the discussion in the cabin ceased. Ji Bai walked out, shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed toward the southwest.

There, between sea and sky, a two-masted Fujian junk was indeed approaching at speed. The ship's bottom was painted white, with a narrow keel and broad upperworks, a raised prow and open bow—its hull was leaner and longer than an ordinary Fujian junk, and it moved very fast.

It was exactly the form of the Denglai navy's two-hundred-liao Fujian junks.

"Bureau Secretary Ji, what do we do?" a crewman asked.

The Great Xia navy ruled the seas, and no one had ever dared lightly offend an envoy's vessel. Besides, the approaching ship was nimble and fast—if they truly tried to flee, they'd have difficulty escaping, and it would only arouse suspicion and needlessly ruin the grand plan of peace talks.

So Ji Bai weighed the matter and ordered: "Perhaps they have something left unsaid. Lower the sails and wait a moment."

The two-masted Fujian junk caught up before long. Those aboard were all Denglai naval officers and soldiers in crimson uniforms, which put Ji Bai somewhat at ease.

He deliberately spoke in a Liaodong accent: "What is it now?"

From the two-masted Fujian junk, three or four zhang away, an officer shouted: "The Governor has a letter he entrusts me to deliver to your master."

Ji Bai said: "I'll pass it along on his behalf!"

The opposing ship fell silent for a moment, then a voice came: "Very well then, I'll bring my ship alongside. There's just this one letter—it must not get wet."

The two ships then slowly drew together. Unease gradually rose in Ji Bai's heart—the other ship's draft seemed somewhat deep.

The Denglai navy had many fast vessels, including no shortage of small, nimble Cangshan boats and bird boats—why choose a Fujian junk with such a deep draft?

Looking again at the other ship's deck, aside from sailors there were only three or four scattered officers and soldiers, which did look like a letter-delivery party. But with such a deep draft, what the hold carried was anyone's guess.

Recalling that Sun Yuanhua had made him put on a Liaodong accent and stage a self-inflicted injury play before the sailors—

Ji Bai guessed that the situation within the Denglai navy was perilous, and realized that the men before him might not be Sun Yuanhua's people.

But he couldn't simply turn and leave. Whether he could escape was one matter—if he fled, Sun Yuanhua would immediately be thrown into a passive position, and the Denglai navy's plan to surrender would be delayed.

So even in danger, he had to handle things carefully, playing along with pretense.

A rope was thrown over from the two-masted Fujian junk. Ji Bai's men caught it and lashed it tight, drawing the two ships alongside. Ji Bai probed: "Does the Governor enjoy my master's gift?"

"Enjoy it, enjoy it." The other side answered perfunctorily.

This confirmed Ji Bai's suspicion that the man wasn't Sun Yuanhua's. Alarm bells rang in his heart, but since he still didn't know what the other party intended, he didn't call it out.

The two ships came alongside and steadied. Ming soldiers laid down a gangplank, and a naval officer stepped aboard with a saber in hand, glancing around everywhere with an air of inspection.

"Strange—I recall that when your side came last time, you sailed a three-masted great ship. Why take a small vessel this time? Aren't you afraid of harassment by the Great Xia fast ships from Pidao?"

"Is that so? I wouldn't know." Ji Bai didn't know whether the officer was testing him, so he could only answer ambiguously. "May I ask the general's honored name?"

At the same time, his eyes kept sweeping the surroundings. This spot was roughly ten-odd li from the Denglai naval stockade—a cannon shot would certainly be heard there. But as an envoy, his ship carried no artillery.

The Great Xia fleet lay more than two hundred li to the east of here, and the Sea Wolf vessel sent to escort him was also twenty li out.

Even a signal rocket wouldn't be visible in broad daylight.

Fighting would certainly gain no advantage—and once he resorted to force, it would thoroughly wreck the Denglai navy's grand plan of surrender.

Ji Bai knew full well which mattered more. He could only restrain himself and wait to see how things developed.

"I am Dong Yongbao, Battalion Commander of the Denglai navy." The officer said casually, staring at Ji Bai's crew with a curious tone. "The ones who came last time didn't seem to be you. By the way, why haven't you shaved your heads?"

Cold sweat seeped from Ji Bai's brow. He shot a look at his deputy from the Foreign Affairs Bureau, who immediately understood and pretended to be annoyed: "What's it to you? You like that shaved head and braid? Once you surrender, we'll shave yours first!

Who the hell are you to jabber at us? Where's the letter?"

The Foreign Affairs Bureau deputy was a born-and-bred Liaodong man who had even served as an aha to the Jianzhou barbarians—his accent was authentic, and his imitation of the Jianzhou barbarians' overbearing manner was flawless.

Officer Dong Yongbao was clearly hesitant.

Ji Bai hastily scolded: "Show some respect—stand down!"

The Foreign Affairs Bureau deputy gave a cold snort, stepped back two paces, and fixed his gaze on Dong Yongbao.

Ji Bai explained: "After His Majesty ascended the throne, he issued an edict that surrendered officers and men may temporarily keep their caps and hair."

Here, "His Majesty" referred to Hong Taiji.

Ji Bai had long resided on Jiao Island and understood the Jianzhou barbarians' situation better than the Denglai navy did. This string of nonsense actually managed to fool Dong Yongbao.

Dong Yongbao looked around the ship but found no further flaws. Several times he opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped.

Ji Bai said: "The letter?"

Dong Yongbao was taken aback: "What? Oh——it's just a verbal message from the Governor: he wishes the Khan robust health, and says his command awaits the right moment, hoping to meet the Khan in Liaodong before long."

Ji Bai said: "I'll be sure to relay it."

Hong Taiji had only recently proclaimed himself emperor, and internal Manchu forms of address weren't yet unified—"Khan" was acceptable, and "Your Majesty" also worked. So Ji Bai, knowing full well Dong Yongbao had misspoken, didn't correct him.

Dong Yongbao had been entrusted by Zhang Tao to test Ji Bai's identity.

Logically speaking, since Sun Yuanhua had just humiliated Hong Taiji's envoy, even if Hong Taiji were the most magnanimous and talent-seeking ruler imaginable, he couldn't possibly send two envoys in quick succession to invite further humiliation.

But Ji Bai answered every question fluently, exactly like a literati lackey who had surrendered to the Manchus—no flaw whatsoever.

Dong Yongbao was already ninety percent convinced, thinking to himself that General Zhang's family had been slaughtered and he'd been rather paranoid lately.

He set aside his doubts, clasped his hands, and said: "The message is delivered. This subordinate will take his leave."

As he turned, his peripheral vision swept over a boatman untying the mooring line. He had already set foot on the gangplank when something struck him as wrong. He turned back, staring at the boatman untying the line, brows furrowed tightly.

A man who made his living at sea, Dong Yongbao could tell at a glance that the knot was tied with uncommon skill.

This was the Calm-Wave Knot of the Fujian-Zhejiang navy—in heavy storms, only this kind of knot could withstand continuous wave strikes without coming loose.

Even among the Denglai naval forces, no more than a hundred men could tie knots this precisely.

Those dullards in Liaodong who can't even row a straight line on a calm river—when did they learn to tie such intricate knots?

If Hong Taiji could train men from Liaodong into sailors like this, he wouldn't need the Denglai navy at all—he could fight the Great Xia head-on at sea himself.

Ji Bai noticed Dong Yongbao's expression shift, and quickly kicked the boatman, cursing: "Southern barbarian! The man hasn't even left yet—what's your hurry to untie the rope?"

The kicked boatman was from Fujian. Knowing his southern accent would give him away the moment he spoke, he just grunted and tied the rope back.

Ji Bai said to Dong Yongbao: "After you."

Dong Yongbao narrowed his eyes instead: "This one's a southerner?"

"From Fujian. Saw he had some skill on the water, so I took him on as a boatman. His Majesty is desperate for talent in the navy—with your abilities, once you reach Liaodong, you're sure to be promoted to Regional Commander. Your prospects are limitless."

Dong Yongbao refused to let it go, staring at the boatman through narrowed eyes: "From Fujian—ever served in the army?"

Ji Bai could only steel himself and improvise: "A few years. Then the Sea Mad Dog raised hell down south and absorbed the Fujian navy. He had sticky fingers, didn't make the cut, so he came to Liaodong."

Dong Yongbao's eyes were nearly slits. The more seamless and unverifiable Ji Bai's story was, the deeper his suspicion grew.

"By the way—where is Your Excellency the Envoy from?"

"Zhenjiang." In his desperation, Ji Bai could only give the one place name he knew well.

Dong Yongbao smiled: "What a coincidence—I happen to have a man from Zhenjiang on my ship." He called out toward his own vessel, "Shandazi, get over here!"

Ji Bai couldn't tell if it was true or false, so he could only signal his second-in-command with his eyes.

The second-in-command stepped forward and snarled: "Enough of this hemming and hawing! I don't have all day to play find-the-relative with you!"

Dong Yongbao said: "Hey now, that's not the way to talk. We're all fellow townsmen—who knows, you might know each other. Meeting a thousand li from home is fate, isn't it?"

Shandazi had a rustic name, but his skill was excellent—he crossed the pitching deck as if on flat ground, reaching Ji Bai in a few strides.

And Ji Bai saw that the man had clearly come out of the ship's hold, which meant that hold must be packed with soldiers.

"Shandazi, the Great Khan's envoy is also from Zhenjiang. What do you think of that?"

Shandazi's face split into a beaming grin, carrying the straightforward warmth typical of Liaodong men, and in a thick Liaodong accent he said: "Really?

Well I'll be damned! You from inside the wall or outside? Know Old Zhang the blacksmith? Whereabouts do you live?"

Ji Bai knew no Old Zhang. When Zhenjiang fell to the Tartars, Ji Bai had been back home in Quanzhou, buried in his studies for the imperial examinations.

He saw Shandazi's simple, honest face and felt it didn't seem like an act, but he didn't dare answer carelessly—if he claimed to know the man, cross-checking the details later would expose him.

So Ji Bai could only say: "My family lives outside the wall. Never heard of any Old Zhang."

The moment those words left his mouth, the smiles on Dong Yongbao and Shandazi's faces suddenly turned stiff and sinister.

Ji Bai immediately realized he'd said something wrong and shouted: "Grab your weapons, run—"

"Shhk!" He suddenly felt a stab of pain in his belly. Looking down, he saw a wild-goose-feather dagger had pierced clean through his body.

Ji Bai's face was full of shock. Then searing pain flooded from the wound. He tried to scream, but no sound would come—the strength in his limbs drained away through the gash.

From the corner of his eye, he saw soldiers pouring out of the hold of the Ming twin-mast Fujian junk, surging toward his ship.

Shandazi's face twisted savagely as he yanked the blade free.

Ji Bai's face went deathly pale. Clutching his wound, he collapsed limply to his knees on the deck.

Shandazi leaned down and said smugly in Ji Bai's ear: "Let me teach you a lesson, boy. In Liaodong, we only say inside the border or outside, east of the river or along the bank—there's never been any 'inside the wall or outside.' Only you southern barbarians are always going on about your county walls."

In boarding actions, the Great Xia navy was no match for the Ming naval forces, and Ji Bai's men were also outnumbered—the entire single-mast Fujian junk was quickly swallowed up by the Ming soldiers.

After killing everyone, Dong Yongbao searched the ship, dividing up the gold, silver, and valuables. When he saw the inventory of Denglai warships written by the clerk, he let out a contemptuous laugh and tossed it into the sea.

A stick of incense later, the Ming soldiers knocked holes in the bottom of Ji Bai's flagship, then all returned to their own vessel. They watched until the ship and the bodies had sunk beneath the waves with no trace remaining, then turned their prow and sailed back toward the naval stockade.

At dusk, in a remote barracks of the Denglai naval stockade.

A tallow candle flickered, illuminating the faces of seven or eight Ming generals.

Vice Regional Commander Zhang Tao sat in the seat of honor, his voice low: "This morning the Grand Coordinator secretly met with the Great Xia envoy. They talked at great length and got along famously—I fear he may already be leaning toward surrendering to Great Xia."

"Alas!" Everyone in the tent sighed in unison.

Some of those gathered tonight were Jiangnan generals whose family members had been slaughtered in Great Xia's purges.

Others were locals from Dengzhou, their military farms heavily encroached upon, afraid that if Great Xia came they'd face another reckoning.

Vice Regional Commander Zhang Tao in particular had nearly his entire family wiped out by Great Xia—his hatred ran deepest of all, and it was he who had called this gathering tonight.

Zhang Tao's gaze swept slowly across the men, his face grim: "The situation is clear now. Surrender to Great Xia and we're dead men. Surrender to the Great Qing, and not only do we keep our posts, we'll be valued again. Seek wealth and honor, or walk to your deaths—the choice is yours, gentlemen!"

Everyone hesitated. If the Great Qing weren't foreigners, they'd defect without a second thought. But that was exactly the problem—it was a foreign race. However much they hated Great Xia, they weren't willing to cast aside righteousness so easily.

Someone said: "I've heard that although Great Xia's slaughter is fierce, they don't kill everyone they meet. The Xu family of Jiangyin, for instance, vomited up their ill-gotten gains quickly enough and escaped disaster.

If we surrender to Great Xia, we give back the land we seized and keep our lives—that's good enough. Better than defecting to the Jianzhou barbarians and being cursed for ten thousand generations."

Another said: "When they fought the southwest before, Great Xia accepted quite a few surrendered generals. Never mind distant examples—isn't there still Mao Wenlong on Pidao? I hear his military authority was stripped, but he's living quite comfortably now."

For a moment, the generals actually found themselves daydreaming about their prospects after surrendering to Xia.

Those whose families had truly been slaughtered by Great Xia all sat in silence.

Zhang Tao watched coldly from the side. After a moment, he spoke words that cut to the heart: "Naive. If the Grand Coordinator truly intends to defect to Great Xia, he won't need those sea bandits to do it—he'll have us all executed first!"

At these words, the atmosphere in the tent instantly dropped to freezing.

All the generals knew he was right. Before the entire army could turn its coat, there had to be an internal purge first—to seize control of the troops and install trusted men.

Even if the generals truly didn't rebel, Sun Yuanhua wouldn't dare take that gamble. Dead men were far safer than living ones.

In the generals' hearts, sacrificing some power and wealth for the sake of righteousness was acceptable—but throwing away their lives? That wasn't worth it.

In that moment, the resolve in every general's eyes hardened.

Yu Guoxiang, Right Mobile Corps Commander of the naval camp, said: "How do we mobilize the soldiers?"

Zhang Tao said: "We'll tell them we're going to join Zu Dashou in Liaoxi. Keep the men steady first, and once we've headed north, we'll turn back toward Liaodong."

"Brilliant!" The generals chorused their admiration.

Wang Wuwei, Garrison Commander of the naval camp, frowned again: "Getting out of the camp safely is a problem. The Grand Coordinator must already be on his guard."

Zhang Tao made a blade of his palm and drew it across his neck: "We strike first to gain the upper hand!"

The officers were puzzled at first, then all showed surprise.

Naval Garrison Commander Wang Wuwei said in an extremely low voice: "You mean to kill—the Governor?"

Zhang Tao gave a cold smile: "Either don't do it, or do it thoroughly! I've already killed the Great Xia envoy—what's one more Sun Yuanhua?"

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen