Chapter 74: Black Clouds Pressing the Sea

"Second Brother wrote this?" Bailangzai was somewhat surprised.

Lin Qian picked up the letter paper with his chopsticks, carefully unfolded it, and spread it on the table. The handwriting on the letter was elegant and neat—indeed Scholar Zhou's script.

Su Kang tactfully turned his head away, pulling Su Qingmei, who wanted to take a look, along with him.

Lin Qian leaned close to the letter and read:

"Seeing this letter is like meeting in person. All is well with me at Chief Li's place—do not worry.

Chief Li has spoken highly of the silver and firearms you gifted. I have been lodging here recently and often hear his lofty discourse, from which I have gained much insight, so I write to share these reflections with you.

You once said the southeastern naval forces are not worth a single blow—this is a grave error.

The court regards us as mere sea bandits, and so has not sent its full force against us. If you insist on holding Nan'ao and thereby draw the great army, you will surely meet with utter destruction, and by then regret will be too late.

I hope you will change your mind soon and no longer stubbornly cling to your own views. The day you leave the island, I will surely come to meet you.

Enclosed is a segment of my left thumb as proof..."

Bailangzai had been learning to read from Lin Qian for some time, but he had not yet reached the level of understanding letters. He asked, "Helmsman, what did Second Brother write?"

Lin Qian said flatly, "A threatening letter Li Kuiqi forced Second Brother to write. The letter says that thumb is Second Brother's finger."

Hearing this, Bailangzai flew into a rage and said coldly, "When I meet that villain, I'll chop off all ten of his fingers to avenge Second Brother!"

Lin Qian suppressed the fury in his chest and brought the tray holding the thumb closer for a careful examination.

The severed finger had already begun to decompose slightly, giving off a foul stench.

From its appearance, it was undoubtedly a left thumb.

But whether it was actually Scholar Zhou's finger was another matter.

First, Scholar Zhou's handwriting was clear with forceful strokes—it did not look like the work of a man who had endured the pain of a severed finger.

Second, Li Kuiqi was clearly wary of Lin Qian and would not easily burn bridges.

Regardless, even if this severed finger was not Scholar Zhou's, it belonged to some other brother on the Fujian junk.

Being threatened and humiliated in such a manner, Lin Qian felt wave after wave of hot blood rushing to his head.

After a few deep breaths, Lin Qian stood up and said to the crewman who had brought the box, "Where was this box found? Take me to have a look."

The crewman acknowledged and took the lead.

Bailangzai put the letter and severed finger back into the box, picked it up, and followed behind.

The crewman led Lin Qian all the way to the sandy beach on the south side of the island.

This place was called Qianjiang Bay, due south of the island's stockade, and beyond it to the south lay the South China Sea.

The Santa Ana and most of the Tanka boats were moored on the north side of the island, so few vessels came here on ordinary days. Even if Li Kuiqi's men sailed over, they would hardly be noticed.

The crewman pointed at an empty spot on the beach: "Helmsman, this box was placed right here."

Lin Qian asked, "When was it discovered?"

"In the morning, about four hours ago."

"Did you see who put it there?"

The crewman shook his head.

Lin Qian asked again, "Did the two watchtowers at Guolao Mountain and Dajian Mountain see anything?"

The crewman shook his head again: "No smoke signals were raised from the watchtowers."

Lin Qian instructed Bailangzai, "Send someone to ask both watchtowers for details."

"Alright." Bailangzai acknowledged.

That evening, in the captain's cabin of the Santa Ana.

Lin Qian sat at the navigation table, Scholar Zhou's letter spread out before him.

Lin Qian read it over several times and confirmed there was no hidden message.

Presumably, when he wrote this letter, he was under Li Kuiqi's strict watch—even the wording was written exactly as Li Kuiqi demanded, word for word, leaving no room for tricks.

Bailangzai pushed open the door and came in: "Helmsman, I've gotten the full story. Both watchtowers said that in the morning, a single-masted boat came to Qianjiang Bay with only one person aboard, so the two watchtowers did not light smoke signals."

Lin Qian pressed further about the boat's details and the messenger's appearance, but nothing was out of the ordinary.

It seemed no more leads could be dug up from the threatening letter.

Lin Qian paced to the window and looked at the sky.

It had been raining continuously these past days—the plum rain belt must have arrived, which meant the subtropical high-pressure zone had already shifted to the southeastern sea, leaving only the northwestern front lingering over Fujian and Guangdong.

Lin Qian knew in his heart that time was running out. If the three men sent to investigate the brothels in Chaozhou Prefecture returned no results within three days, they would have no choice but to launch a direct assault on the ship city.

After Bailangzai went down, Mute Huang entered the captain's cabin, with an apprentice following beside him.

After coming in, Mute Huang patted the apprentice on the shoulder.

The apprentice said, "Helmsman, it's almost the end of the month. The wages for the island's craftsmen need to be prepared for distribution, and the craftsmen's various tools, timber, iron materials, and such all need replenishing. We need to approve a sum of silver. Since Quartermaster Zhou is not here, we can only trouble the helmsman."

Ever since Scholar Zhou had been captured, only two people on the ship could read—one was Lin Qian, and the other was Zheng Zhilong.

Lin Qian was wary of Zheng Zhilong and could not possibly hand over control of the finances to him.

Lin Qian had no choice but to double as the ship's accountant himself.

After hearing this, Lin Qian pulled out the public accounts from the table, took up brush and ink, and asked, "How much silver needs to be approved?"

The apprentice said, "Over one thousand three hundred taels."

Lin Qian verbally asked for the itemized details, confirmed there were no problems, wrote out an endorsement, and handed it to the apprentice.

The apprentice took it and was about to leave when Mute Huang grabbed him and pointed at the floor beneath his feet.

The apprentice understood and quickly added, "Right, there's one more matter. My master said that earlier at Luzon harbor, the galleon snapped an anchor chain and took some damage to the hull in several places, which has yet to be repaired. We need to find an opportunity to fix it..."

The apprentice trailed off mid-sentence, forgetting his words. He looked at Mute Huang, who used two fingers as chopsticks, held an imaginary bowl with one hand, and mimed eating noodles.

The apprentice shuddered all over, then continued, "My master also said that for a large ship made of thick planks like this, it needs maintenance after sailing for at most half a year. Counting the days, that time is nearly upon us.

When the bow triangular sail was modified earlier, my master noticed that the rigging on the mainmast was badly worn and needed replacing, and the sail surface also had tears."

"And we need to send people to clean the hull too—the bottom of a big ship tends to get barnacles and sea snails attached to it, and there's also a kind of shipworm that bores into the wood. These shipworms look like... noodles. If left alone, they'll soon riddle the hull with holes."

Everything the apprentice relayed was correct.

Lin Qian himself knew well that maintaining warships in the age of sail was extremely costly—annual maintenance ran to over 10% of a vessel's construction price.

In other words, sail a ship for ten years, and the maintenance costs could match building a brand-new one.

Lin Qian had kept putting it off, never giving the Santa Ana its maintenance—partly because one thing after another had kept him busy.

And partly because there wasn't much silver left in the accounts.

Counting the just-approved sum of over thirteen hundred taels, the balance in the public ledger before Lin Qian came to less than eight thousand taels.

That silver was still the thirty thousand taels of principal earned from selling the Qingping's cargo—and there had been no income since.

Of those thirty thousand taels, a good deal had already been spent in Manila purchasing weapons, sea charts, and the like.

After arriving at Nan'ao Island, paying the craftsmen their wages and buying all sorts of building materials had eaten up another large chunk.

The biggest expense had been when attacking the Naozhou pearl grounds—buying the large quantity of firearms from the Fat Councilman. Just for the gunpowder needed to make fifteen hundred cannonballs' worth of charges, he'd bought over a hundred and twenty barrels, spending more than five thousand taels.

Originally, after the Mid-Autumn Festival delivery of goods to the Fat Councilman on the fifteenth of the eighth month, another thirty thousand taels would have come into the accounts—twenty-one thousand of it belonging to the public ledger—and thereafter twenty-one thousand taels would flow in every month.

The cash-flow projection had been more than comfortable.

But no one had expected the ship-seizing incident, which cut off Lin Qian's cash flow outright.

His ship held countless treasures and goods—fine pearls more numerous than glass beads—but none of it could be turned into cash.

Even if he contacted buyers on shore right now, it would be too late; no one would readily accept goods of dubious origin.

Eight thousand taels would be enough to keep Nan'ao Island running in the short term.

But if he wanted to do anything big—like giving the galleon its maintenance—the money would soon run thin.

To keep morale steady, Lin Qian didn't publicize the shortage of silver—not even his sworn brothers like Chen Jiao knew.

The public accounts shown to the crew only excerpted two parts: the crew's earnings structure and the itemized public expenditures—never the silver balance.

Even someone with the mind to calculate it would find it impossible.

Lin Qian pondered a moment, then said, "With a great enemy before us right now, let's put off the ship repairs for the time being."

Hearing this, Mute Huang and the apprentice withdrew.

Lin Qian walked to the stern deck and looked up at the sky—black clouds pressed down upon the sea.

The matter of attacking the ship-city grew ever more urgent.

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen