Chapter 58: Blood Stains the Surging Waves

The young eunuch beside him had watched two great men die by the blade in succession, and was so terrified he could no longer stand, his trousers soaked through, the air thick with a foul stench.

He saw Bailangzai's gaze shoot toward him.

The young eunuch kowtowed like a pestle pounding garlic, begging: "Good sir, good master, all the evil deeds were Li Qin's doing! I only just arrived on the island and know nothing. Spare me, spare me, spare this humble one's life!"

Bailangzai's face was expressionless as he walked up close and swung his blade with clean efficiency.

The young eunuch's pleas for mercy stopped abruptly, and he died on the spot, his face full of unwillingness.

Bailangzai cut off Li Qin's head, then knelt to the ground and kowtowed three times in the direction of the water stockade.

"Mother! Your son has avenged you!"

The pearl-house folk behind him also knelt to pay their respects.

After the rites, Bailangzai rose, picked up Li Qin's head, and walked toward the water stockade.

By this time the Santa Ana had already sailed to the outskirts of the water stockade, and Lin Qian led several dozen crewmen aboard small boats to the stockade's edge.

Lin Qian sent his men to search the hills and capture the routed soldiers of the stockade's patrol inspection office.

Fortunately, Naozhou Island was not large, and the routed soldiers were in extremely poor physical condition, so they could not have fled far anyway.

In only one hour, all the routed soldiers were captured and brought to the water stockade.

The soldiers who had once bossed the pearl-house folk around and lorded over them as masters were now bound with rope and thrown together in one place, their faces panicked, like a flock of chickens awaiting slaughter.

By now the pearl-house folk had sailed their boats back to the stockade and gathered at the shore, staring at the soldiers on land with eyes that seemed to spit fire.

Lin Qian gave the order: "Drive these soldiers into the water."

"Yes!" The surrounding crewmen answered in unison and forced the soldiers into the deep water with their blades.

Though the soldiers' hands were bound, most could swim, and could wriggle to keep their heads above water to breathe.

The pearl-house folk one after another used their oars to viciously strike the heads that surfaced.

The soldiers were beaten bloody, and could only dive underwater, but they could not hold their breath long before needing to surface again — and before they could even open their mouths to breathe, the oars came down on their heads once more.

After the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, most of the soldiers had choked on water and drowned.

Several dozen corpses in Ming army uniforms floated slowly to the surface, backs facing upward.

In the old days, the soldiers drove the pearl folk into the sea, the soldiers standing on their boats while the pearl folk's corpses drifted on the water — now the tables had turned, and it could be said that retribution had come swiftly.

By this time Bailangzai had arrived at the water stockade and handed Li Qin's head to Lin Qian: "Helmsman, this is that ball-less beast."

Lin Qian lifted the head and announced in a clear voice to the pearl folk in the harbor: "The eunuch Li Qin is dead. This deed was mine, Lin Qian's, alone, and has nothing to do with any of you. If you wish to avoid being implicated, you may leave now!"

On the water, nearly a thousand pearl-folk boats floated — not one left the harbor.

The pearl folk nearest recognized Lin Qian and called out in low voices: "Our benefactor — could it be our benefactor?"

"Our benefactor has avenged us!"

In an instant, word spread from mouth to mouth among the pearl folk, carrying the news that Lin Qian was the same man who had held free medical clinics at Poshan Wharf before.

The pearl folk had long been exploited by the authorities and discriminated against by the people on shore, so they not only felt no fear of sea bandits, but rather a natural affinity toward them.

During the clinic that day, the pearl folk had seen that Lin Qian carried himself with uncommon bearing and spent money lavishly, and had taken him for a man from shore, keeping their guard up.

Now they discovered that he too was one of their own kind who made his living on the sea, and their goodwill toward him multiplied at once.

The crowd murmured for a while, then gradually fell quiet. Everyone stood at the prows of their boats, craning their necks, wanting to hear what their benefactor would say next.

Lin Qian said: "If any of you have nowhere to go, you may follow my ships to settle on islands beyond the reach of the Great Ming!"

The crowd murmured again.

Lin Qian patiently waited for them to quiet down, then took a deep breath and announced in a clear voice: "I, Lin Qian, swear before Mazu and before Third Granny!

Under my rule, there shall never be forced labor, never the debased registry, and never again any distinction between Tanka boat people and shore folk!

Should I break this oath, let me be buried amid the storms, forever entombed beneath the rolling waves!"

This was the most severe oath among seafaring folk — ten thousand times more vicious than dying without a whole corpse, dying without a place of burial, or being condemned by heaven and earth alike.

Ten thousand times more solemn than swearing before heaven and earth, before the sun and moon, before rivers — especially before the Luo River.

The crowd was silent at first, then knelt one after another at their prows.

Someone took the lead and shouted: "We swear to follow our benefactor unto death!"

Then the shouts gradually merged into one.

"We swear to follow our benefactor unto death! We swear to follow our benefactor unto death!"

The crowd kowtowed for a long while, and only rose gradually at Lin Qian's signal.

Lin Qian had Bai Qing and her brother direct the pearl-folk fleet to leave the harbor first.

After all, there were over a thousand Tanka boats, carrying some three thousand pearl folk in total — there was no way they could all board the Santa Ana.

During the time the pearl folk were leaving the harbor, Scholar Zhou also had men carry out Li Qin's valuables, packed into more than a dozen large chests and transported to the small boats.

Once loaded full, the small boats, sitting extremely deep in the water, wobbled their way toward the Santa Ana.

According to Scholar Zhou, what was on the small boats was not even half of it — after unloading on the Santa Ana, they would need to make two or three more round trips.

Many things in that room had gone beyond the category of mere valuables — they could already be called treasures.

Take, for example, the blood-coral ornament visible the moment one entered, carved from a single complete piece of coral — exceptionally rare.

Lin Qian, for his part, felt that coral ornaments were the kind of thing that looked nice but served no purpose — not as practical as a chest of gold.

Lin Qian then asked about casualties among his men.

Scholar Zhou said: "Six boatmen lightly wounded, one dead."

"How did he die?" Lin Qian found it somewhat strange — hadn't the soldiers of the patrol inspection office all given up resistance?

"While searching for the routed soldiers, he accidentally fell off a cliff and died. It was the one who had beaten the prostitute earlier." Scholar Zhou replied.

Lin Qian gave an "oh" — that explained it.

He looked at the stockade harbor, blocked by the pearl-folk fleet and unable to be cleared for a while, so he walked into the eunuch's room to see what there was to see.

The moment he entered, he saw two crewmen carefully wrapping the coral ornament in silk cloth.

After the ornaments were wrapped and boxed, the half-empty white wall behind them was exposed, looking bare and desolate.

A flash of inspiration suddenly struck Lin Qian. Seeing the brush and ink on the table, he said, "Bring me the brush."

Scholar Zhou let out an "Ah?"—not understanding what scheme the helmsman was cooking up this time. He went to the table, ground the ink, picked out a weasel-hair brush, dipped it fully in thick ink, and handed it to Lin Qian.

Lin Qian took the brush and paced over to the wall.

Only then did Scholar Zhou guess that Lin Qian meant to compose a poem on the wall.

Having studied the classics, he had always been interested in poetry. Moreover, he had never seen Lin Qian wield a brush to write verse before, so his interest surged. He stood to one side, holding his breath and concentrating in anticipation.

Lin Qian pondered for a moment, then set brush to wall with confidence.

After just one character, Scholar Zhou's brows furrowed so tightly they could crush a cow to death.

The character was written crooked and lopsided—one could barely make out a hint of skeletal structure, but the brushwork had nothing whatsoever to commend it. Even a child who had practiced for a single year would have written better than this.

After writing a line and a half, Lin Qian suddenly stopped, turned his head, and asked Scholar Zhou: "Second Brother, what imagery do you think I should use here?"

Scholar Zhou was slightly taken aback. Since when did writing a poem come with soliciting suggestions?

Knowing that Lin Qian came from a farming family and did not observe the conventions of the literati, he reminded him: "Use 'pillowed on frost'—it fits the meter and suits the mood."

Lin Qian nodded and continued writing. After a few more strokes, he asked for more suggestions.

This back-and-forth repeated several times, until more than half of the poem had essentially been written by Scholar Zhou.

As the four lines were completed, Scholar Zhou could also see that the poem was basically an adaptation of the lyrics of a "saltwater song."

Its general meaning described the hardships of pearl divers' lives.

Scholar Zhou nodded inwardly, understanding the deeper intent behind Lin Qian's actions.

By writing such a poem, the court would view this attack as a revolt by pearl-fishing households, and would not associate it with sea bandits.

No doubt, the helmsman had deliberately written the characters so terribly to imitate the handwriting of pearl folk.

Scholar Zhou had seen the characters Lin Qian wrote with a bamboo pen before—they had some method to them. Clearly, it was impossible that merely switching to a brush would reduce his writing to such a sloppy state.

Thinking of this, Scholar Zhou felt a new wave of admiration. The helmsman truly had a meticulous mind—he had even thought of such a small matter as the quality of the handwriting.

Just as he was mulling this over, Lin Qian had already finished the entire poem.

In the final line, a single character "slash" had its vertical stroke dragged out unusually long, brimming with fierce momentum.

Scholar Zhou took one glance and his expression abruptly changed.

With the last two lines added, the entire meaning of the poem reversed on the spot. What stood on the wall was:

"Vermilion gates feast on wine and meat while the low-born fester; iron quilts and short cloth, head pillowed on frost.

Rivers and streams bitterly bear the weight of sinking taxes; boatmen scoop in vain at the cold moon's light.

Mermaid daughters weep dry a thousand streams of tears; sail shadows shatter ten thousand points of light.

From here to Penglai, eastward into the sea—blood dyes the vast waves as we slay the Dragon King."

Damn it all!

Damn it all—this is a seditious poem!

A whole wall of seditious verse, bristling with murderous intent.

Because the ink had been applied too heavily, trails of ink ran down along the strokes.

Like blood dripping fresh and vivid.

Pink Round

Pen