Chapter 390: Rules of Overseas Expansion

Sun Sun Kehong now ruled the Southern Ya with no one daring to challenge him; the wealthy families dared not speak out, partly because of his excellent ties with the Southern Yamen, and partly because his methods were truly brutal.

When Xu Xu Jie rose to power, the Sun family suffered greatly, and many wealthy families in the Southern Ya joined in kicking them while they were down; later, when Xu Xu Jie fell, the Sun family soared again. Sun Sun Keyi acted with restraint and did not retaliate wildly, for he had to consider the impact on the court—but Sun Sun Kehong, a crippled scholar, had no such qualms.

For instance, the Songjiang Wei family, who had once profited from the Sun family's silk shop under Xu Xu Jie's patronage, was left by Sun Sun Kehong in a state worse than death.

The Wei family had thrived through four dynasties—Tang, Song, Yuan, and Ming—and produced the first zhuangyuan of Songjiang after the imperial examination system began; yet this illustrious clan was utterly broken by Sun Sun Kehong: within seven short years, all their property, workshops, fields, residences, academies, and private schools were fully absorbed by him.

Sun Sun Kehong did not kill anyone, but he broke the legs of three Wei men and forced them into wheeled chairs; then he imprisoned all 127 members of the five Wei branches in three large courtyards—no executions, only confinement, with one meal a day delivered, a torment both mental and physical.

Such ruthless tactics naturally made the Southern Ya 's noble families hate Sun Sun Kehong to the bone, yet they were powerless; the Sun family, backed by the Southern Yamen and with their land surreptitiously transferred, were nearly impossible to touch—and Sun Sun Kehong controlled the Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild; to offend him was to defy silver itself.

Sun Sun Kehong had never believed Xu Xu Jie would die, but when he learned Xu Xu Jie had indeed perished—starved to death in the imperial prison—he realized from Sun Sun Keyi's letter that all signs pointed to the Emperor himself having ordered Xu Xu Jie's death.

After Xu Xu Jie's death, Sun Sun Kehong released the Wei family—truly released them—returning all their property untouched; the Weis had expected to be locked in a courtyard forever, for it was their own hands that had broken Sun Sun Kehong's legs.

Grudges have a source, debts have a debtor; Sun Sun Kehong had no power over Xu Xu Jie at all. Xu Xu Jie had been a Grand Secretary, the patriarch of half of Songjiang; when Yang Yang Tinghe and his son had clashed with the Emperor Jiajing Emperor to such extremes, Yang's son had even cried, "The state has nourished scholars for one hundred and fifty years; loyalty and sacrifice are due today!" and led 229 men across the Golden Water Bridge into the Meridian Gate, kneeling before the Left Shun Gate.

That was not a petition—it was outright rebellion.

Yang Yang Tinghe ultimately died peacefully, and the court even posthumously granted him the title of Grand Protector with the honorific "Duke Wen Zhong."

The Xin Du Yang family remained a household of bells and cauldrons.

Sun Sun Kehong had never imagined Xu Xu Jie would meet a bad end, so for a long time, he vented his rage on the Wei family.

Sun Sun Kehong's release of the Wei family was, in truth, his own release; the overwhelming resentment finally ended with Xu Xu Jie's death.

Yet the Wei family still feared him; last winter, they relocated their entire household to the capital to escape Sun Sun Kehong.

Over these past few years, Sun Sun Kehong had poured all his energy into the Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild.

In the entire year of Emperor Wanli Seven, the Songjiang Trade Guild dispatched twenty-five fleets, totaling one hundred and twenty-five five-masted and three-masted ships, each bound for Nagasaki, Naha in Ryukyu, Manila in Luzon, Brunei in Borneo, Xianggang in Annam, Sukhothai in Siam, Surabaya in Java, Colombo in Ceylon, and Surat in the Mughal Empire.

Since Emperor Wanli Two, when the Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild began updating the star charts and compass maps from Zheng He's old expedition records, it had completed over seventy percent of the navigational data.

Even as he flaunted his power, Sun Sun Kehong walked on thin ice; Wang Daoqun, the Provincial Governor of Songjiang, had been in office eight years already; next year, he would be transferred. The Ming's policy of long tenure allowed a maximum of nine years; a new governor would arrive, and then the situation would no longer be as it was.

The new governor would surely build his own faction; the Sun family would inevitably be abandoned. One emperor, one minister—as Gao Gong, who had served as Chief Grand Secretary for years under Emperor Longqing, was immediately replaced upon the new emperor's accession. In the countryside too, a new governor would fear the Sun family's immense power.

At that time, it would be the classic scene of a fallen wall, everyone pushing.

The Qiandao—Yuanxu Archipelago—hosted thousands of islands, among the few in the South Seas suitable for farming; over fifteen percent of their land was arable, and already surveyed arable land exceeded eight hundred thousand hectares. Strikingly, there were no towering trees, making cultivation far easier; as islands, they were rich in bird droppings, providing abundant fertilizer.

It seems odd that a thousand islands, many suitable for farming, exist—yet it is true. Add to that the massive turtle-shaped island, and it was more than enough for the Sun family to take root.

Plantations required suitable land and abundant slaves—and the Qiandao had neither shortage.

Sun Sun Kehong judged that the Sun family's only hope lay in two words: imperial favor. If they could develop this region well—producing rice, palm, sugarcane, refined sugar, rubber—all urgently needed by the Ming—the Emperor's hunger for grain had been made abundantly clear in multiple edicts since the opening of the seas; the first criterion in the Maritime Customs Office's performance review was imported grain.

Developing the Qiandao, closely following the Emperor's lead, and fulfilling his mandate to expand would surely earn imperial favor; even if the new governor abandoned the Sun family, and they were forced to flee overseas for safety, they would still have a foothold.

"The Arabs are skilled at trading slaves—high quality, and they all remove the bells. This method could be adopted in future expansion." Sun Sun Kehong closed his notebook, recording this year's goal on his thick memo: at least ten to twenty plantations by year's end.

A good memory is no match for a bad pen; though brilliant, Sun Sun Kehong still preferred writing things down. The pen in his hand was a steel pen gifted by the Ming Emperor, its ink oil-based, not soot-based.

On a sea where even calm winds stirred three-foot waves, hard pens were far more practical than soft brushes.

"Sir, several proprietors have been waiting a long time." The clerk whispered; the wind had shifted, the harbor grew busy, winter's accumulated cargo nearly choked it—there needed to be a floodgate, and that floodgate was the new port of Songjiang.

The Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild: emerald waters, green trees, ancient walls, latticed windows, rock gardens, small bridges, winding corridors, pavilions, towers, and gray carvings interwoven in harmony. Sun Sun Kehong's wheeled chair was wheeled into the Wudai Hall, where three plaques hung: "Courtesy and Yielding," "Daily Frugality," and "Enduring Patience"—all imperial calligraphy, gold-leafed, bestowed personally by the Emperor.

"Greetings, Sir Sun." More than a dozen men in silk robes rose to bow.

Sun Sun Kehong glanced at his own fine woolen robe, then at their brocade garments, and waved his hand. "No need for formality. Sit and speak."

The Southern Ya was the Ming's largest raw silk source; the Suzhou-Songjiang region the largest silk producer. Even the court suffered silk shortages, yet wealthy families had plenty—this was disrespect. Money truly was a demon, breeding in men the illusion that wealth granted omnipotence.

"I know your intentions well. I'll spare the flattery. Last November, we agreed on fifteen fleets; you only paid deposits. If you wish to withdraw, now is still the time." Sun Sun Kehong sat down and looked at them.

The Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild's model was temporary, one-time subscription: each fleet's initiator contributed capital and goods, then raised more from others; goods were delivered to the ships by the agreed date; upon return, after deducting shipping costs, profits were distributed.

This model had been in place for seven years since the guild's founding.

Shipping costs were exorbitant; over half the profit from maritime trade went to shipping. That's why the Yanxing Trading House in Beijing so fiercely competed for ship certificates—everyone wanted to be a shipowner, earning money lying down.

Such high shipping costs were always in short supply, for the Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild didn't just involve private merchants—it also handled official trade: transporting silver and sulfur to Japan, fish oil and military supplies to Ryukyu, copper and grain to Luzon, and even carrying one million two hundred thousand shi of grain via sea route.

Gao Gao Tianxing of Wuxi's Gao family whispered: "Sir Sun, you have influence at court. With so many imperial shipyards, couldn't the court handle the grain transport itself? We're merchants—this grain transport, if anything goes wrong, means losing our heads."

"Indeed, Master Gao speaks wisely," Lu Shen quickly agreed. "If these hundred-plus three-masted ships were formed into fleets, we could easily form ten or more. One round trip alone would yield at least eight hundred thousand taels."

Sun Sun Kehong shook his head. "Non-negotiable. You're all patriarchs of noble families, your lineages unbroken, your households steeped in poetry and books. Getting someone to submit a memorial is easy. Say what you will—I won't."

"Gentlemen, the Emperor recently invested another ten million taels in maritime affairs. Now, he's broke."

When the Emperor is reduced to selling offices and titles, who dares provoke him? Are you seeking death? Do you want the Embroidered Uniform Guard to kick down your doors?

"Then forget it," Gao Gao Tianxing said, waving his hand as Sun Sun Kehong spoke plainly. This wasn't just his view—every one of the dozen patriarchs shared it.

Gao Gao Tianxing sipped tea, frowned, and whispered to Sun Sun Kehong: "Sir Sun, you're quietly making a fortune. We all follow you to earn our bread. You've found a path—and now you want to hoard it all? Is that fair?"

Sun Sun Kehong replied calmly: "The Qiandao—thousands of isles, tens of thousands of hectares of fertile land—do you think my family alone can consume it all?"

"The star charts, compass maps, and surveyed land surveys are all here. Any merchant in our Overseas Trade Guild may take them—I've printed three hundred copies."

Sun Sun Kehong had never intended secrecy; Gao Gao Tianxing learned of the Yuanxu Archipelago because Sun Sun Kehong leaked it on purpose. Today's aggressive posturing met nothing but cotton.

"Sir Sun is magnanimous!" Gao Gao Tianxing had no reply. He never truly wanted to drive Sun Sun Kehong out of the guild—he merely sought leverage for advantage.

The Songjiang Overseas Trade Guild's business—Gao Gao Tianxing knew his limits. He couldn't handle it. His attacks were always about extracting more silver. Isn't profit-seeking the natural way of merchants?

Sun Sun Kehong shook his sleeve and produced a document. "Gentlemen, how much you take from the Yuanxu Archipelago depends on your ability. But here are several rules—if you oppose, speak now."

"First: the Yuanxu Archipelago must not become a pirate haven. Any vessel found plundering Ming ships must be attacked collectively. If it becomes a pirate nest, we'll have to request the Ming navy to crush it."

Lu Shen raised his hand, puzzled. "Only Ming ships? What about others?"

"Naturally," Sun Sun Kehong smiled at Lu Shen. "We are all Ming merchants. I am merely the Guild's Director—how could I control beyond that? We're all abroad; we should help each other, not kick someone when they're down."

"Is this your wish, or His Majesty's?" Gao Gao Tianxing leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

"I submitted a memorial to the capital. The Emperor gave his vermilion approval." Sun Sun Kehong revealed the seal on the document.

"Sir Sun truly has eyes and hands reaching everywhere! How formidable is Sir Sun!" Gao Gao Tianxing raised his thumb. To topple Sun Sun Kehong, one must first see who stands behind him.

Not seeing the true face of Mount Lu, one is lost within its mountains.

Sun Sun Kehong often feared his family's prominence would draw collective attacks, that losing the Provincial Governor's protection would bring ruin—but he never realized how thick his imperial favor truly was; he was already deeply etched in the Emperor's heart.

One deed alone would make Zhu Zhu Yijun remember Sun Sun Kehong forever: Sun Sun Kehong exposed the Zhao family of Fujian's illegal private market at Guiyan Bay, eliminating a hidden threat that could have shattered relations between the Ming and Luzon. That was a monumental achievement.

Sun Sun Kehong held the document, looked at them all with a complex expression, and said: "Walking by the river often, one's shoes will get wet. I warn you sincerely: before the Japanese pirates, many households hoarded outlaws. When the pirates came, these outlaws became harbingers of doom—guides for raiders. Piracy is no legitimate trade. The Ming navy is mighty; there are nearly two thousand coastal patrols. One day, the court will crush you—don't blame others."

The noble families of the Southern Ya all liked to keep outlaws. When controlled, they were useful weapons; when uncontrolled, they turned on their masters. After twenty-six years of peace since the pirate threat, these families had already forgotten—and were starting again.

If Zhu Zhu Yijun were here, he'd be astonished by Sun Sun Kehong's foresight: late Ming Jiangnan's slave revolts were countless.

"Second: slaves on plantations must be castrated. If anything goes wrong, don't blame heaven or others." Sun Sun Kehong stated the second rule. No one asked questions. No one challenged.

Interestingly, Hui people and Ming people both preferred castrating their slaves—called zanghuo, cangtou, qukou, shi Pu, labor tools—but the red-haired barbarians did not. Their plantations overflowed with uncastrated slaves.

On plantations, slave owners and enforcers always outnumbered by slaves; without castration, rebellion was inevitable.

"Third: at least fifty percent of reclaimed land must be planted with rice. The Coastal Patrols inspect annually. Don't gamble. This winter, the Dajiang in the Southern Ya froze—bring back more grain. It's good karma." As he spoke this rule, Sun Sun Kehong looked at their varied faces and felt his decades of Confucian study were worthless.

When poor, cultivate oneself; when prosperous, benefit all under heaven.

Words sounded better than songs. To make them plant rice? They'd rather be killed. Plantation crops brought far greater profits.

"Fifty percent? Isn't that too much?" Gao Gao Tianxing looked uneasy.

"All fifty-four imperial plantations operate this way—minimum fifty percent rice. Overseas is not lawless land; there is law. The Yuanxu Archipelago lies within reach of the Emperor's navy." Sun Sun Kehong didn't waste words—he issued a direct threat.

Disagree? Hold your tongue.

"Go home and read more of the Book of Contradictions. You're patriarchs, not lone bandits. One man's full belly doesn't mean his family starves. Don't just risk your life—think of your household." Sun Sun Kehong added another reprimand. These men should be exiled to Xitucheng to feel imperial majesty—then they'd learn to read.

The youth of Xitucheng's wealthy families each carried a copy of the Book of Contradictions.

Gao Gao Tianxing, Lu Shen, and the other wealthy families only wanted rights, never responsibilities. Solitary yang cannot grow; solitary yin cannot flourish. How could such a thing exist?

The Ming's long-standing preference for literature over martial affairs had internal reasons: if martial power were revived, and the Emperor seized control of violence, the wealthy families could only endure silently.

"Fourth: do not secretly collude with foreign barbarians. This rule—you all know its weight. If you wish no one to know, don't do it. If caught, your entire family will suffer." Sun Sun Kehong finished reading the document. The main points were these four; twelve others were fine clauses—distribute them yourselves.

Sun Sun Kehong looked at them solemnly. "I've received word: within this year, overseas trade guilds will be established in Mizhou, Songjiang, Ningbo, Fujian, Guangzhou, and Luzon. You all know: the court can still eat pork with hair on it without our butcher. We hold heaven's timing, earth's advantage, and human harmony. The Dajiang connects nine provinces, the hub of all goods, with superb waterways. After all these years, if we're outperformed by the other five guilds, it's not just a loss of face—it's real silver lost."

"What exactly is at stake?" Lu Shen asked.

"Ships and ship permits." Sun Sun Kehong replied succinctly.

"Hah! We absolutely cannot lose!" Gao Gao Tianxing slammed the table. Ship quotas weren't monopolized by Songjiang alone—if we lose to newcomers, we lose face, substance, and future.

"Is Zhang Zhang Juzheng preparing to apply the Performance Review system to us?" a merchant asked blankly.

Spot on. The establishment of other guilds was pressure—performance review.

Sun Sun Kehong knew more: these guilds would form a central association under the Ministry of Revenue.

"Soon, the Southern Ya will dispatch a fleet: four five-masted ocean-going ships and one star-observation vessel. Following the currents, they'll sail to Peru—the so-called New World of the red-haired barbarians—then cross the Atlantic to the West, and return. Gentlemen, this is an unparalleled opportunity." Sun Sun Kehong introduced another matter: exploring new sea routes.

Sun Sun Kehong scanned the room. Indeed, the best way to deal with merchants was profit. He smiled: "This new route means what? Obvious. It's a golden chance—organized by Shanxi merchants and Xitucheng shipowners. The Emperor has promised second-class merit medals. Departure is March. One month to prepare."

"I'm tired. That's all for today."

The wheeled chair left Wudai Hall. The patriarchs continued their heated discussion.

The finest time of year is spring, surpassing even the willow-draped capital.

In early February, Songjiang received a special fleet: five-masted ocean-going ships from the Luzon Governor's Office—not the latest Type-B, but the rarest Type-A, the earliest model. Leading them back to the Ming was the Luzon Governor, Marquis Guoxing Yin Zhengmao, and his younger son, Yin Yin Zongxin, aged twenty-one.

In Songjiang, the five-masted ships unloaded six million four hundred thousand jin of copper, three hundred thousand jin of fish oil, five hundred thousand jin of palm oil, one hundred forty thousand jin of refined sugar, then sailed again, anchoring at Tianjin Tanggu on February 15.

On February 17, Yin Yin Zhengmao, Yin Yin Zongxin, and two others entered Beijing via the Deshengmen military road and lodged at Huitongguan Inn.

The next afternoon, Yin Yin Zhengmao and Yin Yin Zongxin arrived at the Imperial Palace to pay homage.

"Your servant bows before Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand ten thousand years!" Yin Yin Zhengmao performed the full five prostrations and three kowtows. Four years had passed since he last saw the Emperor.

"Rise. Lord Yin, you've crossed vast oceans. I am deeply moved. Bestow gifts." Zhu Zhu Yijun had prepared a pair of chicken-yellow porcelain vessels shaped like treasure basins, derived from ancient ding vessels, their glaze smooth as jade, vividly yellow like chicken fat—hence named "Jiaohuang porcelain."

"Your servant kowtows in thanks for the Emperor's grace." Yin Yin Zhengmao accepted the box holding the porcelain. It was both gift and symbol of imperial marriage.

Yellow glaze was the most strictly controlled color. Gold-yellow was the supreme hue; yellow equals emperor. To privately produce yellow glaze meant death. From the moment he received the porcelain, Yin Yin Zhengmao's family became imperial kin.

"Minister, sit and speak. You are elderly; no need to return to court for reports. Let Yin Zongxin come instead." Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at Yin Yin Zhengmao's gray temples and granted him this honor. The sea voyage was grueling for a sixty-three-year-old.

Likewise, this meant Yin Yin Zhengmao would never return. This was their final meeting. The next time they met might be when he returned to his roots.

"Your Majesty, I can still eat five bowls of rice and draw a bow of one hundred jin. The other day, the red-haired barbarians from Mindanao tried to leave—I drove them back." Yin Yin Zhengmao, upon sitting down and hearing this, spoke at once without hesitation.

Yin Yin Zhengmao could still fight—not because he was lying before the Emperor, nor because he thought the Emperor was testing his loyalty, but because it was simply true: he was still capable of battle.

"I know," Zhu Zhu Yijun said. "But a mature heir is a blessing to the state. The Luzon Governor's Office needs at least twenty to thirty years to transition before it can truly become one of Great Ming's four corners. We must not repeat the historical mistake of Jiaozhi's Thirteen Directorates during the Yongle era."

This has nothing to do with whether Yin Yin Zhengmao can still fight.

Yin Yin Zhengmao holds many titles, but his current role is de facto king of Luzon.

"Your Majesty…" Yin Yin Zhengmao hesitated, then finally bowed his head. "I humbly beg Your Majesty to grant my filial and loyal heart, and rescind this decree."

Great Ming is his home. No matter the reason, he could never fail to return to the Great Ming. Every three years, when he came to the capital for his official report, however brief the visit, he set foot once more upon his native soil.

"Very well." Zhu Zhu Yijun pondered, then withdrew the order. To have spent a lifetime fighting for Great Ming, yet never be allowed to return—that would be cruel. With the Grand Medical Officer present, we can wait until Yin Yin Zhengmao's body can no longer endure the journey before issuing such a command.

"Yin Buitang, this time, you must bring the Princess back with you." Zhu Zhu Yijun turned to the matter of the imperial marriage. Unlike past imperial marriages, this one would not involve building a Prince Consort's Mansion in the capital; instead, the Princess would sail back to Luzon aboard a five-masted ocean-going vessel, and Yin Yin Zongxin would reside with her there.

"What? That violates propriety!" Yin Yin Zhengmao froze. He had always assumed his younger son would remain in the capital as a hostage. But now it turned out—it was more like giving away a daughter!

No one would believe him when he claimed he wasn't a lost royal kinsman. This whole maneuver clearly aimed to bring Yin Yin Zhengmao, the exiled royal kinsman, back into the family fold. Who ever heard of a princess being taken back by her husband?

"It was the Empress Dowager's wish," Zhu Zhu Yijun explained. "The Ministry of Rites dared not defy her. This is simply a case of kinship strengthened by kinship—a special exception."

There was nothing hard to understand here: it was a marriage of convenience during a special time, not at all shameful. Yin Yin Zongxin was Han Chinese—not a barbarian chieftain to whom the Princess was wed without care for her fate.

Special circumstances called for special measures. Empress Dowager Li was no stickler for rigid ritual. After a brief discussion, Zhu Zhu Yijun and she reached agreement.

Great Ming's civilizing influence over Luzon—economic, military, political, and cultural—remained insufficient. Yin Yin Zhengmao was the de facto king of Luzon, though he himself never saw it that way. His old subordinates, like Zhang Zhang Yuanxun, still addressed him as "Yin Buitang," and he still held the official title of Minister of War.

"Sending a Princess to marry into Luzon also serves the Governor's Office," Zhu Zhu Yijun explained. "I know you face difficulties overseas. With a Princess as consort, those with ambitious hearts will think twice."

The Luzon Governor's Office is under the protection of the Great Ming Emperor! Who dares act rashly? The Great Ming Navy will show no mercy!

Do not say we did not warn you.

"Your servant kneels to thank Your Majesty's boundless grace!" Yin Yin Zhengmao moved to perform a full kowtow, but Zhu Zhu Yijun waved him off.

"How is the Marquis of Eagle's Might faring in the Strait of Malacca?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked about the military campaign.

In the Ming, imperial princesses were always given Prince Consort Mansions. Later, when the palace ran out of silver, princesses were housed in the Ten Princes' Mansions, and the Prince Consorts had to visit them there. By the Emperor Chongzhen era, Prince Consorts rarely visited the Ten Princes' Mansions at all, spending years without sharing a room with their wives—typical of a dynasty's final days, when demons ran rampant. Please vote for monthly tickets! Awoooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(End of Chapter)