Chapter 805: The Tender Neck, Blood-Stained, Shatters the Bandits; The Vast Waves Bury the Traitors as a Lone Banner Soars

Yin Yin Zongxin woke from sleep, ate and drank heartily for a while, and gradually recovered; at the prime of life, well-fed and well-rested, his physical exhaustion was suppressed. Though the chief physician repeatedly urged him to rest, he still attended to the affairs of Chijun Mountain.

Many trivial matters could be handled by Yin Yin Zhengmao's staff; Yin Yin Zongxin needed only to decide on one thing: the bandits had kidnapped a group of children and were holding out in resistance, now locked in a standoff—he must make a decision.

The morning mist over Chijun Harbor had not yet dispersed; the salty sea breeze carried a cloying, rotting sweetness.

As Yin Yin Zongxin descended the dock's stone steps, he donned his armor; his iron-soled boots crushed the salt frost crystallized in the stone crevices, producing a fine crackling sound.

On the beach of Chijun Harbor lay a massive skeleton—the carcass of a beached whale—while seabirds circled overhead, constantly scanning the sand and shallow waters for prey.

The seaside was lined with wooden huts, most destroyed in yesterday's bloody clash; the closer he drew, the stronger the stench became—mixing feces, decay, sea air, and mildewed straw—so foul it made one gag.

The environment was abysmal; Yin Yin Zongxin saw countless excretions. Clearly, these bandits on Chijun Mountain had no intention of building latrines for their captives—these five cottages were where the "piglets" lived.

"Five huts, each crammed with over thirty people," whispered the accompanying Assistant Regional Commander. "All were Fujian-Zhejiang fishermen lured here a month ago."

Yin Yin Zongxin lifted his foot; the sticky mud clung to his boot sole—not merely dirt, but years of congealed blood and human and animal waste, hardened into filth. Clearly, some had been slaughtered here like livestock, their corpses still half-decaying nearby.

Public execution was meant to kill one to warn a hundred, deterring other victims.

Suddenly, from the southeast hut, the clanking of chains rang out. Yin Yin Zongxin turned his gaze: over a dozen children, bound in ropes like beads, were dragged out by several bandits.

The children's ankles bore dark purple bruises stark against their pale skin; their knuckles were swollen and deformed, fingernails caked with black-purple blood—traces of years spent chained beneath ships, rowing.

Their eyes—those children's eyes—were most heartrending. Not the thirst for survival, but hollow emptiness crushed by terror.

The foremost girl, about ten, had only half an ear left, a clot of dried blood stuck to a few withered blades of grass.

When the bandit's Japanese pirates blade pressed against her neck, slicing skin and drawing blood, the child's youthful face showed no fear—only numbness.

Under Ming law, even clan extermination did not extend to children under fourteen.

"They want a ship," the Assistant Regional Commander whispered, voice tight with suppressed rage. "General Yin, they demand a fast vessel to escape. Even if we agree, they won't release the children—they're ruthless, vicious devils."

"Who knows how many lives they've taken."

Yin Yin Zongxin unconsciously rubbed the hilt's binding with his thumb. If the bandits kept their word and released the children, the choice wouldn't be so hard.

The bandits had a ship; the Ming navy had countless ships. We're all gentlemen—once at sea, the Ming forces will hunt them down and teach them a lesson. But these bandits will inevitably demand more, even take hostages with them.

Negotiations were at an impasse. Yin Yin Zongxin, the decision-maker, must decide.

"Japanese pirates." Yin Yin Zongxin studied the bandits and spotted one with a shaved crown—everything suddenly made sense.

Ming people's morals might slip after going to sea, but never to this extent: public executions, leaving corpses unburied, using children as shields. Seeing these Japanese pirates, Yin Yin Zongxin instantly understood why.

Birds of a feather flock together. Those who fraternized with Japanese pirates could hardly be good men.

Yin Yin Zhengmao was old; old men were verbose, especially fond of recalling their glory days—how they'd driven Japanese pirates into frantic flight.

But whenever he spoke of Japanese pirates atrocities, Yin Yin Zhengmao deliberately skipped those parts. Yet his father's desolate expression left a deep impression on Yin Yin Zongxin.

Japanese pirates atrocities had been equally brutal on the Korean battlefield; the Ming army's smooth advance to reclaim lost territory owed much to Korean popular sentiment.

Yin Yin Zongxin gripped his Qi family sword, slowly raised it above his head, and shouted: "I'll count to three. If you don't surrender, swords show no mercy!"

"One!"

"Two!"

"Kill!"

Yin Yin Zongxin reached three and slashed down hard—this was the attack signal. Twelve fully armored assault troops stepped forward, their strides steady. Whether the bandits killed or not, they had received orders and would not halt.

Yin Yin Zongxin made this decision because Qi Qi Jiguang's "New Treatise on Military Efficiency" stated: When bandits take civilians hostage, elite troops advance directly—do not lose the opportunity through misplaced mercy.

All soldiers knew this military regulation by heart.

Dozens of bandits shouted wildly, even stabbing knives into the children's necks—but still could not stop the advance of the armored infantry. The bandits never expected Yin Yin Zongxin would order an immediate assault.

The bandits finally panicked, scattering in all directions—only to meet arrows and musket fire.

After a burst of chaos, Yin Yin Zongxin annihilated the entire band. They were already dogs without a home, surviving only by using children as human shields.

The bandits were dead; several children lay in pools of blood. Yin Yin Zongxin walked among them. The children's eyes, numb and hollow, held only one emotion: release.

"Rest well," Yin Yin Zongxin sighed, gently covering their eyes.

Most of these children had been brought out by their parents—who had vanished? Yin Yin Zongxin did not know. Their tragedy stemmed from their parents' refusal to heed warnings, their gullibility toward lies, and the crimes of the Chijun Mountain pirates.

"You're safe now," Yin Yin Zongxin said, forcing gentleness into his voice. Twelve children—two dead, ten survived.

"Alright, you are saved." Yin Yin Zongxin tried to make his tone as gentle as possible; of the twelve children, two had died, and ten survived.

【42】 "You're safe now," Yin Yin Zongxin said as gently as he could. Twelve children had been taken; two had died, ten had survived.

Yin Yin Zongxin saw no other emotion in their eyes. They stared blankly at him, expressionless.

Yin Yin Zongxin slowly unbound the ropes binding them—tightly knotted, even cutting into their flesh. Salt crusted the hemp; each slight tug tore at the wounds.

The children's bodies were covered in bruises—not from one or two days, but old and new injuries alike. The phrase "unblemished skin" suddenly took concrete form before Yin Yin Zongxin's eyes.

As he untied them, he moved with care; the accompanying physicians began treating the children.

"Bring all rescued Han civilians to the dock for the ceremony. Sink every vile criminal into the sea," Yin Yin Zongxin said coldly. The court and local offices were not omnipotent—he only hoped these people, after witnessing this, would no longer easily believe such lies, would not be deceived.

"Have all the rescued Han people gather at the dock to witness the ceremony; cast all the treacherous rebels into the sea." Yin Yin Zongxin's voice was extremely cold; the imperial court and local magistrates were not omnipotent, and he only hoped that after experiencing these events, these people would no longer easily believe such lies or be deceived.

【48】 "Let all the Han civilians rescued go to the dock to witness the ceremony—throw every wicked traitor into the sea." Yin Yin Zongxin's voice was icy. The court and local yamens were not omnipotent; he only hoped these people, after what they'd endured, would no longer easily believe such lies or be deceived.

Drowning was the method used by the Lu Song Governor's Office for executions—no burial, eternal sinking in the ocean.

On the beach of Chijun Harbor, countless seabirds circled. Amidst the clamor, they took flight from the whale's carcass; the tide receded, revealing endless stretches of sand.

Yin Yin Zongxin arrived at the shore to carry out the drowning executions.

During Yin Yin Zongxin's sleep, the victims identified the captives. He was deeply displeased: over ninety percent had blood on their hands—each guilty of countless crimes, too numerous to record.

The Ming was opening its seas; the South Seas needed Han unity to sustain Han towns. But what Yin Yin Zongxin saw was not this. In the Han towns of Lu Song and Tongzhen, Yin Yin Zhengmao had seen more unity—not such bottomless infighting.

One by one, the accused, shackled, were led onto ships. Onboard lay ropes and stones—executioners would bind the criminals to the stones.

Along the shore stood the rescued victims. Their eyes, once numb, now held a flicker of fire—anger, resentment, hatred for the accused. Dressed in rags, some naked, they stood silently as the criminals were taken aboard.

Chijun Mountain had a dogged strategist named Zou Zou Diguang. Yin Yin Zongxin only learned his identity after reviewing the case files—he was Chijun Mountain's "Great Master."

Yin Yin Zongxin knew him—he'd heard his father and Zhang Zhang Yuanxun discuss him.

He was a Ming Jinshi of the second year of Emperor Wanli, and in February of the eighth year of Emperor Wanli, falsely accused Grand Tutor, Marquis of Yicheng, Right Pillar of State, Chief Editor of the Great Ming Compendium, Grand Secretary of the Zhang Wenyuan Pavilion, and Minister of Personnel Zhang Zhang Juzheng of manipulating the metropolitan and palace examinations of Emperor Wanli 2 and Emperor Wanli 5, causing a massive uproar.

Because of the earlier Gao Zhu Qiyu incident, court officials immediately grew wary, suspecting Zhang Zhang Juzheng truly intended to usurp the throne. The emperor had married and fathered a crown prince—why would Zhang Zhang Juzheng suddenly consider rebellion now? It made no sense.

After a tripartite tribunal and deliberation by the Nine Ministers, Zhang Zhang Juzheng was cleared.

Had Zhang Zhang Juzheng's charge of exam manipulation been proven, he would have become a moral pariah. The imperial examinations—watched by every scholar in the Ming—were the triennial mechanism for power distribution, intricate and fraught.

The tribunal and Nine Ministers concluded Zou Zou Diguang had falsely accused Zhang Zhang Juzheng, aiming to test whether the emperor, now grown, intended to strike against Zhang.

The Ming emperor wanted Zou Zou Diguang executed, but Zhang Zhang Juzheng protected him, arguing: "The state has laws. His Majesty cannot arbitrarily impose harsher punishment out of personal sentiment."

Ultimately, the court agreed to exile Zou Zou Diguang to Java.

Java had two exile sites: Yehai City and Surabaya City—the very Surabaya City where Yin Yin Zhengmao held the title of Marquis.

Zou Zou Diguang escaped from Surabaya City and fled to Chijun Mountain in the Yuanxu Archipelago.

He was a genuine Ming Jinshi, a top scholar of the Ming. The horrific tragedies on Chijun Mountain were inseparable from Zou Zou Diguang's scheming.

This drowning would not include Zou Zou Diguang—he was to be sent as the chief bandit to the capital for the emperor's personal interrogation.

When Zou Zou Diguang was brought aboard and saw Yin Yin Zongxin, he spat fiercely and shouted: "Pah! You lackey of the devil! Emperor's hound! How dare you be so arrogant! Give me a few more years, and I'll make you, this yellow-haired brat, never return!"

"I fled ten thousand miles to Chijun Mountain, yet the emperor still won't let me live—he chases me across the world! I hate it! I hate this unjust world! Why does heaven treat me so cruelly?!"

Yin Yin Zongxin pulled out a handkerchief. Reluctantly, he took the private secretary's robe and wiped the spittle from his person. The handkerchief was embroidered by his wife—Princess Hu Yingjia was no pampered lady; her needlework was excellent.

The private secretary stared, dumbfounded: his third son found the spit filthy, yet the chief secretary of the Lu Song Governor's Office didn't? He used my robe to wipe it, did he?!

Yin Yin Zongxin sighed: "In the eleventh year of Emperor Wanli, the Jiugang Governor's Office reported the sudden disappearance of the exiled Ming Jinshi Zou Zou Diguang from Surabaya City. The Jiugang Governor personally led two thousand troops to Surabaya, searched for three days and nights, then declared you dead—and erected a ceremonial tomb for you."

"Don't claim you were wronged. The first grand mansion built in the Han town of Surabaya—three courtyards deep—was given to you."

"Uncle Zhang planned to entrust the Han town of Surabaya to your care. After three to five years of proven results, he would petition the court: since you served the state and repented, you could return."

"My father and Uncle Zhang are both Zhang Yuanfu's men, exchanging letters. Zhang Yuanfu repeatedly warned: do not be harsh. The Ming produces only three hundred Ming Jinshi every three years—they're hard-won."

"When the emperor wanted to kill you, Master Zhang refused. He saw Zhou Zhou Liangyin's awakening and thought you might change too."

"Master was wrong. Zhou Zhou Liangyin was the only one."

Yin Yin Zongxin held a deep, deep impression of Zou Zou Diguang. When Zhang Zhang Yuanxun arrived at the Lu Song Governor's Office, he lamented the loss of such a fine Ming Jinshi.

Zhang Zhang Yuanxun truly mourned, regretting he hadn't assigned more guards; if he had, Surabaya might have become a town of over 150,000 by now. Today, it has fewer than 100,000 souls.

The South Seas had too few scholars to waste. Any with talent were cherished, feared to be lost.

Even Yin Yin Zongxin hadn't expected to find him on Chijun Mountain—the "Great Master" of the pirates was the missing Zou Zou Diguang.

"You lie! I don't believe it!" Zou Zou Diguang's face shifted from ashen to pale, then flushed crimson. He roared: "Impossible! Zhang Zhang Juzheng wanted me dead! How could he save me?!"

Yin Yin Zongxin shook his head again. This man's downfall had its reasons.

"I am a Prince Consort, the Governor's heir. Why would I lie to a prisoner? If you don't believe me, ask in the capital yourself. Master is a scholar-official, a Ming Jinshi. As His Majesty says, class loyalty outweighs ethnic loyalty. Haven't you noticed? Master rarely exterminates utterly—when he can't bear it, he merely exiles."

"The emperor likes killing," Yin Yin Zongxin added, speaking gently because Zou Zou Diguang was a Ming Jinshi.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng truly disliked killing—mostly just expelling. From Gao Gong and Xu Xu Jie to Liu Tai, Zou Zou Yuanbiao, and Zou Zou Diguang—all were treated the same.

The emperor is the one who loves to defend Master, who cries out for executions, who shouts: "Kill anyone who speaks ill of Master!"

"Third Young Master, be careful," the private secretary gasped. The South Seas navy maintained outposts and distant watchtowers; if this talk reached the emperor's ears, it would constitute a grave crime of disloyalty!

Don't dare speak such nonsense.

"The emperor told me this himself. Why fear?" Yin Yin Zongxin laughed loudly, yet reminded himself to be cautious—even ten thousand miles away, loyalty was owed, or he'd betray the emperor's grace.

The private secretary fell silent. Youth without fire wasn't youth. He understood clearly: Yin Yin Zongxin spoke to Zou Zou Diguang not to inform, but to provoke.

Zou Zou Diguang, this rebel, grew angrier—proof the Governor's Office's path was right. Within the Governor's Office, two voices clashed: centrifugal and centripetal forces—the tension between relying too little on the Ming and relying entirely on it.

Zou Zou Diguang was extremely clever. He knew Yin Yin Zongxin spoke truth. A prince consort, granted the imperial surname—why lie to him?

For rebels like Zou Zou Diguang, the angrier they become, the more it proves the Governor's Office's course is correct. Within the Governor's Office, there are two differing viewpoints: one centripetal and one centrifugal, creating a contradiction between relying too little on the Great Ming and relying entirely on the Great Ming.

【95】 Zou Zou Diguang, such a rebel, grew angrier—proof that the Viceroy's path was correct. Within the Viceroy's office, two divergent voices existed: one of centrifugal force, one of centripetal force—there was contradiction, a tension between not relying too much on Great Ming and relying on it entirely.

"Puh!" Zou Zou Diguang's face flushed deeper, then spat a gout of blood, collapsing to the ground. His entire narrative—of an emperor cold and ungrateful, of the Ming's injustice, justifying his rebellion—shattered completely.

"Physician, watch him. Don't let him die on the way—he still has to satisfy the emperor's wrath!" Yin Yin Zongxin smiled, patting Zou Zou Diguang's shoulder. "You're just too hot-headed."

Yin Yin Zongxin stood at the bow, confirmed all captives were aboard, raised his hand—and the banner behind him began to ripple.

"Doctor, watch him closely—he must not die on the way; we still need him to satisfy His Majesty's wrath!" Yin Yin Zongxin smiled, patted Zou Zou Diguang on the shoulder, and said, "You're just too quick to anger."

Yin Yin Zongxin stood at the bow of the ship, confirmed all captured criminals had boarded, raised his hand, and the banner behind him began to ripple.

The boat, filled with condemned criminals, slowly set sail under the oars of the boatmen; when it reached deep water, it stopped. The criminals were stripped naked

The reason for severing the arms was to ensure they would die without fail—these days, sharks in the sea were countless, and even on the shore lay massive saltwater crocodiles; the scent of blood would draw these predators, guaranteeing the drowning sentence was carried out properly.

Soon the surface of the sea began to boil, with blossoms of blood drifting across the waves.

Yin Yin Zongxin stood at the bow, gazing up at the Zhu banner and the round-dragon flag, lost in thought—his family had been granted the imperial surname and married an adopted princess; clearly, they had every right to fly the Zhu banner.

"What are you thinking about, Young Master?" the private secretary asked curiously.

Yin Yin Zongxin spoke, bewildered: "Is my father truly not of the Zhu lineage? Why do I feel our family really is, as the rumors say, a lost branch of the imperial clan?"

"I didn't ask," the private secretary muttered, wishing he could slap himself—the Young Master's thoughts were simply too erratic.

After returning to the harbor, Yin Yin Zongxin wrote a memorial reporting the situation and boarded the ship escorting the prisoners back to the capital to submit it to the Son of Heaven.

Iron armor treads frost, cracking salt; sea mist, sweet and foul, coils around decaying whales; blood congeals on tender necks, blades rust; eyes rot in childish pupils, chains reek of blood.

Three thunderous shouts shake the foe's courage; a flash of cold steel cleaves the tyrant's form; suddenly an old acquaintance's attire is changed—ten thousand acres of azure waves bury the star of sin.

As Yin Yin Zongxin carried out the drowning sentence

Deng Deng Zilong's fleet destroyed the Black Sail Army's stronghold and once again set sail south toward Juezhou; the importance of Juezhou's gold mines to the Great Ming went without saying. Deng Deng Zilong stood at the bow, gazing at the undulating waves, his brow deeply furrowed like a ravine.

The future is bright, but the path is winding.

The approaching Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office faced no powerful enemies.

To this day, Spain and Portugal—the main powers opening the seas in the West—had yet to find this place; the local natives, known as the Kulín tribe, were, according to the Celestial Observation Vessel's survey: no threat.

The Kulín tribe lived in the northeastern corner of Juezhou, in shrublands receiving up to three feet six inches of rainfall annually; they used stone tools, wore clothing of animal hides and grasses, possessed no metallurgy, and had only a few bronze artifacts.

The Kulín tribe was extremely backward: they stripped bark from a tree called the Red Glue Tree to make boats, lacking proper tools, they could not even fell trees or build ships.

The Kulín tribe still used bark boats, while the Great Ming had already developed copper-clad wood technology, extending ship lifespans and protecting against shipworms.

Songjiang Prefecture, Zhangzhou Prefecture, and Guangzhou Prefecture were attempting to build ironclad ships with thinner hulls; Guangzhou Prefecture had made the fastest progress—its ironclad plating consisted of two layers: outer iron, inner wood—but for various reasons, it had failed sea trials.

The reason Guangzhou Prefecture pushed forward with ironclad construction was simple: the great success of the Foshan Ironworks. Wang Wang Jiaoping's two iron factories had driven out inferior iron with superior coinage, maintaining high prices for Foshan woks and propelling metallurgical technology forward dramatically.

The Kulín tribe's lack of threat left Deng Deng Zilong deeply uneasy.

For a strong fortress often collapses from within; internal and external contradictions are not always bad—only when both are in crisis does heaven fall and earth crack.

Luzon and Jiugang Provincial Governor's Offices both faced grave threats: Red Hair Barbarians, Japanese pirates, foreign tribes, Black Barbarians, Persians, and internal divisions.

But Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office lacked such internal and external tensions; the Kulín people were not particularly warlike. Facing the Great Ming's Celestial Observation Vessel, they bowed in worship, pressed their bodies low to the ground, treating the vessel's appearance as a divine miracle.

Thus, in the short term, the Great Ming's South Seas Fleet would not clash with the Kulín people; to them, the Great Ming's soldiers were truly celestial warriors descending from heaven.

Without internal strife or external threat, an ideal state cannot endure.

Actually, there was a good solution: deliberately create conflict with the Great Ming. The Great Ming was strong enough, its pressure great enough; manufacturing centrifugal force was simple: with mountains of gold and silver, why obey the Great Ming Emperor?

But this easily slipped into a paradox, becoming a joke.

It required massive military and cultural investment, deliberately fostering division, to protect trade with the Great Ming from Great Ming's own threats.

As for Juezhou, once developed,

its largest trading partner would be the Great Ming's heartland—no one else could absorb these minerals or collect so much gold.

"Loyal to the distant shore! Even if every Provincial Governor's Office betrayed the Great Ming, Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office must not." Deng Deng Zilong established a clear policy.

In Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office, enforce absolute loyalty education; culturally, forge a unique loyalty stamp—this was Deng Deng Zilong's only solution, just as the ancient Anxi Garrison's white-haired soldiers had done.

After the An Lushan Rebellion, Tang's power rapidly declined; in the first year of Weng Dali, the Hexi Corridor was swallowed by Tubo; the Anxi Army became an isolated force, holding out in the Western Regions for forty-two years, their hair turning white, yet still believing the Tang would return to the Western Regions.

Waiting only for smoke signals to report to the Son of Heaven, their frost-white hair as weapons—resolved to die, how magnificent! Who dares ask: to whom does this crimson heart pledge?

Deng Deng Zilong's goal: forge an absolutely loyal Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office. If one day the sea route was severed completely, every Han soldier would hold fast, waiting for the Great Ming's army to return.

"General, Jinchí Harbor has arrived," the Assistant Regional Commander reported to Deng Deng Zilong—the harbor lay before them.

Deng Deng Zilong stared at the harbor for a long, long time—the entrance to Jinchí Bay was only six li wide, and even narrower at low tide, ideal for defending against seaborne enemies; beyond the entrance lay a vast, deep, and spacious bay, and most importantly: directly east of Jinchí Bay lay another excellent harbor.

"The Great and Small Jinchí—it's real," Deng Deng Zilong murmured.

This was precisely why the Celestial Observation Vessel had named it Jinchí: two natural harbors, narrow entrances, deep waters and broad surfaces—these twin harbors were called Great and Small Jinchí.

The Celestial Observation Vessel's survey report had reached Luzon's Governor's Office, but neither Yin Yin Zhengmao nor Deng Deng Zilong fully believed it—how could such perfect natural advantages exist? High rainfall, fertile land, weak natives, gold, excellent harbors—and a pair of them, backed by mountains that blocked storms.

"Heaven favors the Great Ming!" Deng Deng Zilong sighed deeply: "If we built two artillery batteries at the entrance, stationed heavy troops in Great Jinchí, and fast ships in Small Jinchí, mutually supporting each other, even General Qi himself could not leave alive!"

"General, there's a river inside called Cangwu River," the Assistant Regional Commander cautiously reminded General Deng—this place's natural advantages were extraordinary; even if the river couldn't support grain transport, its abundant freshwater meant irrigation, and vast tracts of fertile farmland could emerge.

"Good, good, good!" Deng Deng Zilong's eyes lit up; he pointed toward both sides of the entrance: "Build three fort-batteries here—name them Dinghai, Zhenhai, and Liu Pinghai."

If the Anxi Army had had Jinchí Provincial Governor's Office's advantages, they could have held out for four hundred years, not just forty!

Favorable heavens, advantageous terrain, united people—plus ample grain and water—even if descendants were utterly ungrateful, they could simply outlast invaders through sheer endurance.

"Truly an excellent place!" Deng Deng Zilong raised his telescope, continuously observing the geography.

Determining positions for the fort-batteries to protect Jinchí City, identifying where to reclaim land for farming, where to dredge and dig canals, where to establish Han settlements—Deng Deng Zilong, alongside the Provincial Governor's Office officials, planned relentlessly.

In an instant, Deng Deng Zilong felt endless work awaited him.

When Deng Deng Zilong disembarked, a group of Kulín people who had seen the fleet enter the harbor immediately surrounded him; the interpreter stepped forward, gesturing and guessing, then whispered: "The Kulín say they've found more golden stones—on the Golden Plain."

When Deng Deng Zilong disembarked, a group of Kurin people who had spotted the fleet entering the harbor immediately surrounded them; the interpreter stepped forward and, through gestures and guesswork, conveyed their message, then whispered, "The Kurin people say they have found golden stones again, right there on the Golden Plain."

【151】 When Deng Deng Zilong stepped ashore, a group of Kurin people who had seen the fleet enter the harbor immediately surrounded him. The interpreter stepped forward, gesturing and guessing his way through translation, then whispered: "The Kurin say they've found more golden stones—on the Golden Plain."

"But the Kulin people demand our weapons in exchange."