Chapter 52: Bring the Captain a Pair of Chopsticks

The Portuguese had sturdy ships and formidable cannons, and were not afraid of ordinary sea bandits in the least.

But the Santa Ana was a Manila galleon, the jewel of the Spanish navy.

Combat at sea was a contest of hard power, with little room for tricks or stratagems.

It was precisely because he feared the Santa Ana's strength that the councilman had deliberately tricked Lin Qian into coming to Guangzhou, and had also sent five warships to besiege its anchorage, vowing to capture the galleon in one stroke.

But man proposes, heaven disposes.

That damned Ming sea bandit, who ought to be rolling in a lake of brimstone and fire, had ordered the galleon to sail for Japan the very day he received the letter.

Was that the judgment a normal person should make?

He had just received an invitation to commercial negotiations, and immediately fled — and stabbed you in the back on his way out.

Was that something a human being did?

The meeting place had been chosen in Guangzhou, under Ming rule, and he had even sent a special envoy to you as a hostage.

Was that not sincere enough?

What more did it take to earn his trust?

The councilman was furious beyond measure, so angry he even felt sorry for himself, and thought: "I did deceive you, true, but I showed no obvious flaw, at least no malice — did you have to guard against me this much? No, this isn't even guarding against me, this is harming me! This is outright sabotage!"

The Santa Ana trading with Japan damaged the interests of all the Portuguese in Macao.

When the Governor-General and the Senate investigated, he, Councilman André, would be the greatest criminal, the first one who could not escape.

Not to mention the subsequent threat of plunder — the cost of transport from Portugal to Japan would rise sharply.

The shipping route would never know peace again.

The direct and indirect losses would be incalculably high.

The more the councilman thought, the more dejected he felt. His mouth hung open, his face flushed red, and for a long while he could not utter a single word.

He was a merchant, not a soldier; he lacked the courage to burn his boats.

He wanted to harden his heart and kill Lin Qian, but that would solve nothing and only bring new troubles.

Fortunately, merchants yielded quickly when profit was at stake.

The councilman froze for a moment, then his fat face broke into a smile again: "Hahaha... Someone! Bring the captain a pair of chopsticks!"

Lin Qian said: "I hear the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall in Guangzhou is quite good."

The councilman berated the attendant: "Didn't you hear what the captain said? Go and see to it at once!"

The councilman thought for a moment and added: "Take away the roast beef and ham, and bring out all of the Ming's signature dishes. The Ming's cuisine is rich and varied, and Cantonese food is the finest of all — he must taste more of it!"

A little over half an hour later, the long table was laden with dishes of every kind, and in the middle sat a small pot of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

Buddha Jumps Over the Wall could not be made in a moment — a pot of it, not counting the preparation of ingredients, required at least four or five hours of simmering.

This small pot must have been bought ready-made from elsewhere, and no small sum of silver must have been spent on it.

Seeing that the dishes were all in place, the councilman gestured for the attendant to pour the wine.

Lin Qian reached out and covered his cup with his hand.

The attendant looked at the councilman with a troubled expression.

The councilman was startled at first, then rose with a face full of smiles, dragged his corpulent body over to Lin Qian, took the wine pot, and poured the wine himself.

Zheng Zhilong was already stunned watching from behind — in his eyes, the lofty councilman had never once been so humble and servile.

Watching the councilman's eager attentiveness as he poured the wine, he was exactly like a Ming man — so the councilman understood Ming social graces too, it seemed.

Lin Qian sneered inwardly.

No doubt the councilman had experienced plenty of such scenes at the drinking table.

After all, a lowly Macao councilman, when facing governors, the Three Offices, the Maritime Trade Supervisorate, and other leading officials, had no choice but to pour the wine.

When the cup was filled, the councilman raised his glass first to toast, said a few innocuous words of congratulation, and then drained it in one gulp.

That bold, swashbuckling air of draining the cup in one go formed a sharp contrast with the European aristocratic bearing he had shown just moments ago while eating steak and ham.

Lin Qian did not drink, only raised his cup in acknowledgment.

He genuinely worried the councilman might poison the food and wine — not with a fast-acting poison, but a slow one was still possible.

Seeing this, the councilman took no offense, chattered on about this and that for a while, and then tactfully steered the conversation back to the Santa Ana.

"Captain, as the Celestial Court would put it, the men of the Shimazu clan are a pack of wokou, and Li Dan is merely a sea bandit. Trading with them is very risky — better to entrust the business to the Portuguese. We are good friends of the Celestial Court."

The councilman said this with a fawning expression.

Lin Qian held up five fingers: "Five hundred thousand taels. Not one tael less — otherwise, no deal."

The asking price was a hundred thousand higher than the original offer, and two hundred thousand higher than the friendly price he had given Zheng Zhilong.

Not to mention on the seas off Guangdong — even if shipped to Japan, this cargo would be worth only five hundred thousand at most.

Lin Qian's asking price was equivalent to squeezing out every last bit of profit margin, forcing the councilman to sell at a loss just for the sake of goodwill.

But if he refused, the Portuguese would not only gain no goodwill, but would also suffer enormous losses.

The councilman's heart ached, but he steeled himself and said: "This price is truly too high. Didn't we agree on three hundred thousand before?"

To be honest, even three hundred thousand was on the high side.

"My ship has already been at sea for five days — how do you propose to calculate the shipping costs?"

"Then I'll add another twenty thousand!"

"Count the days, and the ship is nearly at South Zhili by now — Japan is closer than sailing back to Guangzhou."

"Another fifty thousand more!"

The fat on the councilman's face was trembling.

At this point in the conversation, the councilman had also guessed that the Santa Ana could not possibly be on its way to Japan — it must be hiding in some secluded stretch of sea, waiting for orders.

Otherwise, even if the councilman let Lin Qian go, he had no power of telepathy to turn the Santa Ana around when it was already off the coast of Shandong.

At this thought, the councilman clenched his fists, and his gaze grew ever more sinister.

Perhaps they could use torture to force out the whereabouts of the Santa Ana!

The councilman's change in expression was fully caught by Lin Qian, who said without moving a muscle, "I'd guess you're wondering whether you can use torture on me?"

The councilman's eyes instantly cleared: "Hahaha... Captain, you truly have a sense of humor."

If Lin Qian confessed, he'd make a fortune; if Lin Qian didn't confess, he'd lose everything. He didn't dare gamble.

"We Ming people like round numbers. Forty thousand taels, how about it?"

The councilman gritted his teeth again and again, but the words "deal done" simply wouldn't leave his mouth.

Lin Qian added, "Of that, ten thousand taels can be offset with firearms."

The councilman's heart suddenly pounded wildly. Arms sales had always been the most profitable business, yet the Ming showed not the slightest interest in the clever contrivances of these "Western barbarians."

Even though Portuguese cannons were superior in performance, after several rounds of contact with Ming officials, they still couldn't close a single order.

But when it came to pouring toasts and offering drinks, they'd learned that skill to perfection.

The Portuguese naturally couldn't understand the conservative philosophy of "the distinction between barbarian and civilized" and "the ancestral laws must not be changed."

All they could do was privately curse the Ming officials for being corrupt, ignorant, greedy, arrogant, and foolish.

Historically, the Ming's first large-scale purchase of Portuguese cannons came in the third year of Tianqi, and the quantity purchased was very small, with overland transport beset by obstacles at every turn.

By the time they were finally delivered to Liaodong, it was nearly the sixth year of Tianqi. Fortunately, they arrived in time for Nurhaci's invasion of Ningyuan.

That was why, during the Battle of Ningyuan, Yuan Chonghuan had only a dozen or so red barbarian cannons under his command.

There was no helping it — the Ming's first purchase really had bought only that many. A few were kept in the capital for reverse-engineering, and the rest were all shipped over.

Which was why Councilman Andre was so excited.

Even though selling firearms to sea bandits might invite questioning from the Ming authorities.

He couldn't afford to care about that anymore.

This was a full order worth one hundred thousand taels of silver!

Forget selling firearms — he'd sell his own mother!

"Deal!" the councilman shouted.

The councilman then worked out the transaction details with Lin Qian.

It was finally settled that on the fifteenth of the eighth month, the first batch of goods would be delivered at Macao harbor, priced at forty thousand taels of silver, of which ten thousand taels would go directly toward purchasing firearms.

The second batch was set for the fifteenth of the ninth month, also priced at forty thousand taels.

And so it went — the goods would be delivered in ten installments in total.

For the councilman, paying thirty thousand taels in silver and ten thousand taels in firearms each time was no small sum; he needed time to raise the funds.

For Lin Qian, delivering in smaller amounts across multiple installments helped reduce risk — he wouldn't lose everything to a single shipwreck.

Councilman was somewhat amateur when it came to scheming, but he was quite professional when talking business.

An hour later, all terms were finalized.

The councilman immediately had someone draft the contract in both Chinese and Portuguese, in duplicate, with both parties signing.

When Chinese people do business, what matters is trust between people — no one believes a piece of paper.

Moreover, even if one violated the contract now, no one would pursue the matter.

So for Lin Qian, this contract was essentially worthless paper.

Watching the fat councilman treasure that contract so dearly, one could only hope he had some so-called spirit of contract.

After putting the contract away, Lin Qian prepared to take his leave.

The fat councilman personally escorted Lin Qian to the stairwell. At the moment of parting, he suddenly said, "For the sake of our cooperative friendship, I'll share a piece of intelligence with you free of charge — the Spanish arrived in Guangzhou five days ago."

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen