Chapter 82: Legend

The two men disembarked.

Lin Qian ordered Uncle Chen to boil a pot of hot soup with pork bones.

The ship's kitchen sat at the very front of the gun deck, its smoke vented out of the ship through a single chimney—once the meat broth began to boil, the fragrance wafted across the entire vessel.

The crewmen who had already eaten their fill of supper found their cravings stirred awake, let alone the hungry, starving pirates clustered around the Santa Ana.

These pirates had split off from the ship-city in such haste that most vessels carried insufficient water and provisions; even those who had food could not build large fires to cook on their small boats, so they could only swallow their saliva and gnaw on dry biscuits.

At that moment, a small boat was lowered from the Santa Ana's port side, and Bai Qing led a dozen or so men armed with weapons down into it.

The small boat slowly rowed toward the pirate ships, and all the pirates rose to their feet, tense with apprehension.

Bai Qing rowed close to one pirate vessel and called out: "The helmsman has ordered an invitation—come aboard and drink some mutton soup."

The pirates wanted to refuse, but for one thing the aroma of the meat broth was genuinely enticing, and for another they held no weapons in hand—they had no choice but to agree.

So they boarded the small boat one after another, while the men Bai Qing had brought took over the pirates' Haicang vessels.

Only when the pirates stepped onto the Santa Ana's deck did they see clearly that there was no mutton soup before them—only a crowd of crewmen holding spears and rapiers.

The pirates stood dumbfounded.

Some crewmen fetched ropes, bound the men's hands and feet securely, and sent them to be piled up in the cargo hold.

On the starboard side, Bailangzai did the same, and soon the pirates tricked onto the deck were stuffed into the cargo hold in string after string.

Cold, hungry, and unarmed, the pirates barely even resisted—they simply submitted to their bonds.

The occasional few who had hidden daggers in their boots tried to rise up and strike, but in an instant they were stabbed full of holes like sieves.

The heavy rain muffled the sounds of fighting on deck; the other pirates had no idea what was happening above and kept climbing up the rope ladders.

By sunrise, pirates from over fifty ships, totaling some six hundred men, had all been crammed into the cargo holds.

By the Santa Ana's carrying capacity, the maximum was four hundred people—any more and there would not even be room to sleep.

Lin Qian simply did not treat the captured pirates as people.

Treat them as cargo, and the problem was solved.

After all, the galleon's goods had already been stored on Nan'ao Island; the cargo holds were now empty and spacious, more than enough to stack six hundred prisoners.

Counting the captives in the holds, the prize pool of this victory had grown considerably.

In the morning light, Bai Qing and Bailangzai, sister and brother, were assigning crewmen aboard the pirate ships.

Chinese-style hard sails were simple to operate; merely maintaining navigation required few hands.

By noon, all usable crewmen on the Santa Ana had been assigned, and seven or eight ships still remained without crews.

The riggers then used ropes to tie these empty vessels behind the other ships, towing them across the sea.

Everything prepared, the Santa Ana raised sail first and departed the lagoon.

The sunlight was just right, the sky clear of clouds, and planks and corpse debris scattered across the lagoon's surface.

From this day forth, the South Sea ship-city would be nothing but a legend.

On the return voyage.

Inside the Santa Ana's captain's cabin, Scholar Zhou sat at the round table with the account book spread open before him, frowning and sighing as he clicked the beads of his abacus.

After running the abacus beads three or four times, he sighed: "Helmsman... these accounts do not look optimistic."

The books showed less than eight thousand taels of silver remaining, plus the thirteen hundred-odd taels searched out from the captured pirate ships.

At the very most, the balance came to ten thousand taels.

The next trade with the Fat Councilman was set for the fifteenth of the ninth month—still over half a month away.

In the meantime, crew dividends, craftsmen's wages, provisions and water purchases, Nan'ao Island construction, and galleon repairs—not a single item could be done without spending silver.

By Scholar Zhou's rough calculations, the ten thousand-plus taels on the books could not cover everything; choices had to be made.

Moreover, in the eighth and ninth months the monsoon winds at sea were unpredictable, making voyages extremely dangerous—even if a cargo were successfully delivered in Macao on the fifteenth of the ninth month, the earliest the ship could return to the island would be the twentieth.

"Helmsman, I suggest we halt construction on Nan'ao Island for now and just get through this stretch," Scholar Zhou proposed.

Lin Qian toyed with Li Kuiqi's nine-ring ghost-head broadsword and said: "Construction on Nan'ao Island cannot stop. Winter is fast approaching—we cannot let the islanders live in shacks.

The Little Ice Age of the late Ming is no joke; even along the Fujian and Guangdong coast, people freeze to death in winter.

Though the island's buildings are mainly wooden and materials can be sourced locally, the wages of carpenters and laborers cannot be spared.

Then there are bricks, tiles, lime, and other material costs—no small expense either.

It's fortunate that Nan'ao Island is close to Chaozhou, making sea transport cheap; if it were farther from the mainland, these costs would rise further."

Lin Qian added: "Have you counted the twenty thousand-plus taels rescued from Li Kuiqi's flagship?"

Scholar Zhou's worry turned to joy, and he slapped his forehead: "I'd quite forgotten that matter—now we have silver aplenty!"

Lin Qian slowly shook his head: "The silver is only sufficient for the moment. We've captured fifty warships—they all need maintenance and repairs, so building a dry dock must be put on the agenda. Then there's the granary, the reservoir, and land reclamation—all of it needs silver. In our line of work, silver is never enough."

"What does the helmsman mean?" Scholar Zhou's eyes lit up.

Lin Qian leveled the blade with one hand: "We go plunder!"

It was nearly the end of the eighth month now; counting the days, the new Emperor Zhu Changluo would soon breathe his last.

Historically, after Zhu Changluo's death, the court was rocked first by the Red Pill Case and then the Palace Removal Case, throwing the entire Ming capital into chaos.

This was precisely Lin Qian's final chance to plunder with abandon—how could he possibly miss it?

Scholar Zhou nodded slightly; he too felt that "opening new sources" was the best approach—but who knew that Lin Qian's next words would turn his expression to astonishment.

"Along the entire Fujian and Guangdong coast, which villages and counties are wealthy?"

"Helmsman... you mean to raid the land?"

Lin Qian set the ghost-head broadsword on the cabinet and said: "Sea and land—I want both."

Just then, a crewman knocked and entered: "Helmsman, we've arrived at Shen'ao Harbor."

Lin Qian: "Mm. Tell Uncle Chen to prepare a few of his signature dishes—tonight I'm hosting honored guests."

That night.

Lin Qian led his brothers into the Regional Commander's residence.

Along the way, every soldier deliberately took a detour to avoid them; those who truly couldn't avoid them simply turned and faced the wall.

The group crossed courtyards and passed through halls, swaggering all the way to the rear compound.

Huang Hetai, the Garrison Commander of Nan'ao, hurried out to greet them, clasping his hands in salute from afar: "I did not know the chieftain was coming; forgive me for failing to welcome you properly."

"It is my brothers who came uninvited; I hope you will be lenient with us for the intrusion." Lin Qian also clasped his hands and exchanged pleasantries. "It has been a long while since I last drank with Garrison Commander Huang. Today I have specially prepared fine wine and dishes, hoping to share a gathering with you."

Huang Hetai returned the pleasantries verbally, but his heart was filled with suspicion and unease. He thought to himself: "This thief has been on the island for a month now, and this is the first time he has been this courteous, personally bringing wine and food to call on me. What can he mean by it?

Could it be that he has a favor to ask of me?

That's it—now that the new emperor has taken the throne and the realm is at peace, he, as a bandit squatting on this island, must be uneasy at heart, so he has come to sound me out.

Though this thief's ways are somewhat extreme, he is nonetheless generous with his spending—that blood coral he gave me alone is already worth a fortune.

Unfortunately, on Nan'ao Island, there is the Regional Commander watching over things for the court, and in the jianghu, Li Kuiqi is eyeing this place covetously.

Even if I had a hundred times the courage, I would not dare keep him on this island.

At the banquet later, I'll use Li Kuiqi to frighten him and make him think of leaving, then use the Regional Commander to pressure him, so that he'll offer another hush payment before he goes.

That way we part on good terms, and it won't be for nothing that I was scared by this thief's pig-head stunt."

Pink Round

Pen