Chapter 51: The Fat Councilman

The tenth day of the seventh month.

The day of the Hongmen banquet.

Yesterday, Scholar Zhou had informed Lin Qian of Councilman Andres's intelligence.

Lin Qian had made all his preparations, bringing Bailangzai and Zheng Zhilong into Moon Sea Tower.

The councilman had arranged the meeting on the fifth floor, where two Portuguese soldiers stood guard at the stairwell.

They searched the three men thoroughly, then stopped Bailangzai, allowing only Lin Qian to enter.

Zheng Zhilong said in Portuguese: "I am the councilman's special envoy. I must enter as well."

The two Portuguese soldiers exchanged a glance, then let Zheng Zhilong go up too.

Lin Qian said: "Wait at the stairwell. If negotiations collapse, you might still keep your life."

This was a test.

Zheng Zhilong said gravely: "A scholar dies for one who knows him. I, Zheng Zhilong, am no coward who fears death!"

Lin Qian smiled faintly and said nothing more.

Ascending the stairs, the entire fifth floor of Moon Sea Tower appeared extremely spacious, with only a long table set in the center, surrounded by several Portuguese attendants standing about.

The whole room was decorated in European style, which was extremely rare in the Great Ming.

At one end of the long table sat a fat Portuguese man, holding knife and fork in both hands, a napkin tucked at his collar, attacking the chunk of meat on the plate before him without lifting his head.

A Han Chinese man stood beside him, presumably the new interpreter.

An attendant pulled out the dining chair at one end of the long table, gesturing for Lin Qian to sit.

After he sat down, the attendant brought over knife, fork, and a plate bearing a cut of meat steak drenched in brown sauce.

"Roast beef, I hope you like it," the councilman said indistinctly, his mouth full of food.

The Han Chinese man beside him translated his words.

The Great Ming prohibited the slaughter of cattle, and the beef trade was also under strict restriction.

At the same time, the court's restraints on the Folangji men of Macao were extremely severe, forbidding them from entering the interior on their own.

The councilman before them ignored all these damnable regulations, openly building something like a private club on the top floor of a restaurant in Guangzhou city proper.

This was a display of power.

After the beef was served, an attendant wheeled over a cart bearing an entire cured ham, its surface gleaming with the sheen of fat.

The attendant took out a thin knife as long as an arm, sliced off a piece of ham as thin as a cicada's wing, carefully picked it up with a fork, and placed it on the councilman's plate.

Then the attendant wheeled the cart around to stand behind Lin Qian and began slicing the ham.

Bringing such a long blade and standing behind Lin Qian—this was already a blatant threat.

Even Zheng Zhilong could not help glancing over repeatedly.

Lin Qian remained unmoved, eating neither the beef nor the ham, and not touching the wine either.

The councilman teased: "What's the matter, Captain? Afraid the food is poisoned?"

Lin Qian shook his head.

"Then are you dissatisfied with the hospitality?" The councilman's voice suddenly turned cold, his genial expression gone, the fleshy ridges on his fat face fully exposed.

Lin Qian slowly nodded.

He neither argued in his defense nor showed any panic—he simply admitted it outright.

This caught the councilman somewhat off guard. This pirate was supposedly already in his grasp—could he still have some hidden card?

The councilman softened his tone slightly and asked: "What exactly has displeased Captain?"

Lin Qian pressed down on the beef with his fork, and bright red juices seeped out: "The beef is a fine thing, but a pity it wasn't cooked through—it still carries its blood."

Lin Qian actually enjoyed medium-rare steak, but that did not stop him from finding fault.

Then he picked up the ham the attendant had placed on his plate: "This thing exists in the Great Ming too—it's called Jinhua ham, and it's not meant to be eaten raw."

Lin Qian raised the fork in his hand again: "We in the Great Ming eat with chopsticks, not with this thing."

"Enough!"

Under Lin Qian's barrage of nitpicking, the councilman flew into a rage born of shame.

"You truly are a fool. Since you've stepped into this room, do you still think you'll walk out alive?" The councilman sneered. "Right now, five Portuguese warships are sailing toward the Santa Ana. This is likely your last meal as captain."

"Anything else?" Lin Qian asked calmly.

"What else?"

"Any other tricks? Don't tell me this is the trap you schemed so hard to set. How disappointing. I don't do business with fools."

The councilman waved a hand, and the attendant behind him pressed the ham knife against Lin Qian's neck.

"Killing you now would take but a single word from me," the councilman threatened.

Zheng Zhilong swallowed hard—a blade was also pressed against his waist.

Lin Qian said placidly: "Macao is so far from Portugal proper. Sea transport back and forth must be inconvenient, no?"

The councilman mocked: "You want to trade the Santa Ana for your life? She is indeed a fine ship, capable of crossing oceans. But a pity—Portugal and Spain are after all under the rule of a single king, and cannot accept your kindness."

Lin Qian: "Why play the fool? The Ming goods you've been buying up—where do they end up being sold? Do you really think I don't know?"

At this time the Suez Canal did not yet exist. For the Portuguese to ship goods back to Europe, they had to go south through the Strait of Malacca, then west across the Indian Ocean, then around the Cape of Good Hope in Africa, and finally sail all the way north to reach Lisbon.

The route was tortuous, several times longer than the Spanish Pacific route.

As a result, shipping costs were too high to compete with Spain.

Restricted by the 1506 Papal Line of Demarcation, Portugal also had no right to share a route with Spain.

Even if the two countries, Spain and Portugal, were under the rule of a single king, they still had to eat from separate pots.

To obtain profits, the Portuguese of Macao actually shipped their goods to Japan, then loaded silver there and returned to the port of Macao.

Since the wokou uprisings, the Great Ming court had strictly forbidden trade with Japan, and even when the Longqing opening later came, Japan was still excluded.

This gave the Macao merchants an opportunity to profit from the situation.

Lin Qian continued: "Suppose your fleet came up empty—what if the galleon had set sail for Japan five days ago?"

The fat on the councilman's face twitched; he forced a smile and said, "Five days ago? You had the Santa Ana set sail right after receiving my letter?"

As he spoke, the councilman cast a subtle glance at Zheng Zhilong behind Lin Qian.

Zheng Zhilong gave an almost imperceptible nod.

The councilman's heart skipped a beat.

He dared not fully believe Zheng Zhilong's words, but neither dared he disbelieve them.

Before Lin Qian could answer, the councilman pressed on: "Several hundred thousand taels of cargo—do you think you can find buyers for it in Japan?"

Lin Qian: "Li Dan on Kyushu, and Shimazu Iehisa—they have far more credibility than Your Excellency."

Li Dan and Shimazu Iehisa were both real people. Given how little the Great Ming knew of foreign lands, an ordinary person would never have heard the name Shimazu Iehisa unless he truly had business dealings with him.

Unwilling to give up, the councilman glanced at Zheng Zhilong again.

Zheng Zhilong nodded slightly once more.

A sharp pang twisted in the councilman's chest.

Shimazu Iehisa was the lord of the Satsuma domain on Kyushu.

Li Dan was the head of the Great Ming's smuggling merchants entrenched on Kyushu.

These two men—one was the Portuguese's biggest customer, the other their biggest competitor.

The councilman could hardly bear to imagine what would happen once the Santa Ana arrived.

Had he simply bought the cargo for three hundred thousand taels, he could have made a handsome profit while striking a blow at Li Dan's arrogance and seizing market share.

But greed had gotten the better of him—he'd wanted something for nothing, and now the eggs were broken and the chickens had flown.

The Manila galleon was fast and had departed days ahead; the Portuguese fleet could never catch up now.

And it wasn't over yet. Lin Qian added: "And if I fail to return safely, the Santa Ana will, after completing its trade, turn to raiding along the Macao-to-Kyushu route. Seizing Portuguese merchant ships then would be quite unavoidable."

The councilman felt the edifice in his heart come crashing down.

Pink Round

Pen