Chapter 970: Mountains and Rivers Emerge, City Walls Stand Firm; Jade Voice Falls, Silver Mountains Are Offered

Zhu Yiliu saw the situation clearly as an outsider, while Quan Tianpei was blinded by involvement.

To Quan Tianpei, the commander of the tooth soldiers, Xie Ruixiang, was a hero of Jinshan City, a comrade who had fought back-to-back with him to establish Jinshan City, sharing every hardship along the way.

Quan Tianpei fully believed Xie Ruixiang was dissatisfied with the distribution and wanted a larger share.

Zhu Yiliu, newly arrived in Jinshan City, saw it differently—he noticed Xie Ruixiang treating human lives as disposable and sensed something was amiss.

Perhaps Xie Ruixiang had never regarded Jinshan City as his overseas homeland; otherwise, in a situation where Han people were already scarce, why would he still recklessly take lives and, amid external threats from enemy states, insist on dragging his conflict with Quan Tianpei into the open?

This revealed that, in Xie Ruixiang’s heart, Jinshan City was utterly expendable—yet Quan Tianpei still believed Xie Ruixiang was merely throwing a tantrum over gold, revealing a certain soft-hearted foolishness.

“General Luo, based on Xie Ruixiang’s alliance charter, could we set a trap for the Mexican Governor’s Office, lure him in, and knock out one of his teeth?” Zhu Yiliu asked Luo Shangzhi for his opinion.

The Prince of Lu had just taken his fief; the Mexican Governor’s Office must now test the strength of the Great Ming.

Luo Shangzhi nodded and said, “Your Highness speaks wisely.”

“I am unskilled in military affairs—I leave it to General Luo,” Zhu Yiliu said. He had intended to make arrangements, but remembering his own lack of military talent, he chose, like his elder brother, to let Luo Shangzhi lead this campaign.

A man with no command experience, giving reckless orders, would surely ruin a winning hand.

Zhu Yiliu had no fear that Luo Shangzhi would betray him, overthrow him as the Prince of Lu, seize Jinshan, and declare himself king, for the navy under Luo Shangzhi still belonged entirely to the Great Ming, not to the State of Jinshan.

Luo Shangzhi’s three thousand naval troops rotated every three years.

Zhu Yiliu wished to keep Luo Shangzhi in the State of Jinshan, but Luo Shangzhi had no such ambition.

As one of the Twenty-Eight Heroic Stars of the Eastern Expedition and one of the few naval commanders, Luo Shangzhi’s future was bright—he was a strong contender for the posts of Regional Commander of the Songjiang Navy or Regional Commander of the South China Sea Navy. For Luo Shangzhi, serving as a naval commander in the Great Ming was far more appealing than becoming a general in Jinshan.

Under Jinshan’s current conditions, generals of Luo Shangzhi’s caliber simply could not be retained; his coming here was an imperial grace, a favor granted by His Majesty through nepotism.

“Let’s test the Mexican Governor’s Office’s strength,” Luo Shangzhi said with a smile. “I wonder if they can stand against these ten fast-sailing ships.”

The thirty-six-pound ship cannons had yet to taste blood; the Great Ming’s firepower configuration for fast-sailing ships was purely theoretical and needed real-world testing.

From daily drills, one fast-sailing ship’s combat power equaled roughly five five-masted ocean-going vessels or ten three-masted junks. In this era of limited naval warfare, it all came down to heavy ships and massive cannons.

Ten fast-sailing ships, twenty five-masted ocean-going vessels, fifty three-masted junks, and a hundred warships—even if six vessels were lost at sea—the State of Jinshan’s navy remained overwhelmingly powerful.

The most advanced Western warships were equivalent to the Great Ming’s three-masted junks; if ten fast-sailing ships unleashed full broadsides, the Mexican Governor’s Office would need at least a hundred three-masted junks.

If the Mexican Governor’s Office lacked so many three-masted junks, this raid on Jinshan City would give the Great Ming Navy a righteous cause to act.

Zhu Yiliu picked up the second memorandum from Quan Tianpei, which raised the issue that the State of Jinshan lacked women; its female population consisted mostly of North American barbarians and large numbers of courtesans trafficked from Japan.

Women boarding ships were considered inauspicious, especially on long ocean voyages, where nearly no women were allowed aboard, for in the tightly confined space of a ship, women became a source of conflict.

The Songjiang Prefecture had gathered many sailors’ accounts: Westerners on long voyages often brought herds of female goats and established animal brothels in many governor’s offices, specifically for sailors, with goat brothels being the most common, categorized into sheep and goats.

Now, Jinshan lacked sufficient women for reproduction; most Han men had only one Japanese woman, and compared to barbarian women, the Han still preferred Japanese women.

“On this voyage, aboard the Cangming, there were forty-two women—midwives, weavers, embroiderers, and cotton farmers. Ensure their safety and prevent courtesans from harassing or provoking them, for they possess vital skills: childbirth, weaving, embroidery, cotton spinning,” Zhu Yiliu specifically instructed: do not harass these women who came willingly to Jinshan.

Huang Daopo, from Wuniujing in Songjiang Prefecture, was sold as a child bride to Yazhou during the late Song and early Yuan dynasties, when Yazhou possessed the world’s finest cotton-spinning and weaving techniques. Huang Daopo studied meticulously, returned to Songjiang, and taught her fellow villagers to improve textile tools; today, Songjiang is the world’s largest cotton-spinning center.

Huang Daopo has a shrine in Songjiang Prefecture, with thriving incense offerings.

Zhu Yiliu regretted that no master craftsmen or chief physicians accompanied him on this fief assignment; Jinshan’s conditions were too poor to attract talent, even with His Majesty’s favor.

This voyage included astronomical students, primarily to construct an observatory and the official bell-and-drum tower, along with two agricultural officers.

These two agricultural officers, trained under Xu Zhen, graduated from the Academy of Agriculture, came to Jinshan to domesticate and collect crop and livestock breeds, aiming to diversify the Great Ming’s agricultural and pastoral industries—such as poultry for eggs and meat, and livestock—all their targets.

These two agricultural officers were sufficient to ensure Jinshan’s agricultural production.

“As for the shortage of women you mentioned, temporarily rely on barbarian women. I will petition the court to see if we can bring some Japanese women,” Zhu Yiliu planned to resolve these issues, but such accumulation could not be rushed.

“Your Highness speaks wisely,” Quan Tianpei mused on this unsolvable problem—lack of people was a long-term issue.

As Zhu Yiliu and Quan Tianpei chatted, he grew distracted—he suddenly realized Jinshan differed from the Great Ming: the Great Ming had the Han people as its core, and due to the Han-barbarian distinction, this core would not change in any foreseeable future.

But Jinshan was different: the first-generation Han immigrants would intermarry with local barbarians; their descendants would gradually become mixed-race, deepening the rift between Jinshan and the Great Ming’s homeland.

Grand Secretary Wan Shihé had thoroughly discussed this issue: colonizers inevitably become localized.

When Zhu Yiliu read Wan Zongbo’s discussion, he felt no real resonance—it was an affair beyond the realm, unrelated to him.

Now, taking his fief in Jinshan, he immediately grasped this inevitable localization as an unsolvable problem.

In the heartland of the Great Ming, one could marry, raise a family, and had no reason to risk life overseas; even if one dared to go, one would not bring a wife, for the sea was an uncertain gamble.

Jinshan differed from the South Seas: when the Southern Song fell, countless Han people, with nowhere else to turn, chose to flee overseas—even the Jifu Governor’s Office had Han presence; the South Seas already had over a million Han descendants, but Jinshan had none.

Zhu Yiliu took up the third memorandum, where Quan Tianpei raised the third issue: lack of coal. Jinshan City’s climate was mild year-round, ideal for living, but cooking required coal, for firewood was insufficient due to the climate.

More precisely, Jinshan lacked sufficient earth masters.

“On this voyage, I brought three earth masters and their disciples, who will stay in Jinshan for three years,” Zhu Yiliu did not fully resolve the issue, for these three earth masters’ primary destination was Jinshan City’s gold mine.

When the next rotation comes, these three earth masters will depart by ship and return to the Great Ming.

“Either find coal deposits before they leave, or train local earth masters capable of locating veins and gold before they depart—Jinshan Bo, pick several sharp apprentices to learn diligently from these masters; do not slack off.”

“Lean on mountains and they will crumble; lean on people and they will flee; better to rely on ourselves,” Zhu Yiliu gave a clear directive: advance on all fronts.

Jinshan must have its own earth masters, find sufficient mineral deposits, and exchange them for enough Great Ming goods.

“I humbly obey Your Highness’s imperial command,” Quan Tianpei immediately replied. Quan Tianpei was one of Jinshan City’s founders; his love for Jinshan surpassed even that of the Prince of Lu. When the Prince of Lu departs and returns to the Great Ming, His Majesty will not punish this imperial scion—but if Jinshan loses its chance to develop, it will be gone forever.

“Re-engage the Hopi barbarians several more times. If they still refuse to cease attacks on Jinshan, find a way to defeat them!” Zhu Yiliu gave a clear directive on foreign affairs: avoid conflict if possible.

First courtesy, then force; if we can appoint local chieftains and gradually expand through diplomacy, so be it. If diplomacy fails, Zhu Yiliu’s fists and feet are no less potent.

“Also, is the management of horses in Jinshan City too lax?” Zhu Yiliu studied the memorandum and discovered that Jinshan traded horses with barbarians!

Zhu Yiliu said in confusion: “Jinshan’s greatest advantage over barbarians, besides firearms, is horses. On the battlefield, speed is paramount—how dare you trade horses? Even steppe people haggle a thousand times over horse trades with us.”

“Trading horses to these barbarians is digging your own grave.”

“Your Highness, when Jinshan City was first established, we had no choice but to do so to take root,” Quan Tianpei explained why horses were traded. He whispered: “All were castrated; no breeding stock was traded—only geldings.”

The New Worlds of North and South America had no horses and easily accessible iron mines, so their natives remained in the Bronze Age; the appearance of large livestock like horses aroused the barbarians’ interest.

Although Quan Tianpei traded some horses, he strictly controlled breeding stock; once established, horse trading was gradually restricted.

Sometimes, Quan Tianpei even felt strange: good Han people, upon arriving in Jinshan, began to resemble steppe nomads.

Of the six memoranda, Zhu Yiliu answered four; the remaining two he did not discuss further with Quan Tianpei, for he had no solution: one was Jinshan’s lack of sufficient schools, the other its lack of sufficient clinics—both problems he could not resolve.

The accompanying physicians could train doctors, but in the short term, they could not change Jinshan’s situation.

The next morning, Zhu Yiliu led one hundred and twenty Embroidered Uniform Guards southward from the city. Half an hour later, they traveled thirty li, then turned west for forty li; the guards spread out to scout. By afternoon, Zhu Yiliu returned to Jinshan City.

Within thirty li of Jinshan City, there were no major dangers.

On the twenty-sixth of April, Zhu Yiliu ordered the construction of four watchtowers at elevated points within thirty li, capable of observing barbarian movements.

He learned this method from Qi Jiguang: thirty li was a sufficient early-warning range; in the first year of Wanli, Qi Jiguang ambushed Dong Huazi and his nephew using watchtowers.

Luo Shangzhi returned from overseas on the twenty-sixth, reporting that the Mexican Governor’s Office’s fleet had been destroyed: only three three-masted junks, barely five hundred men; two were sunk outright by thirty-six-pound cannons, one escaped back to the Mexican Governor’s Office.

The enemy ship’s escape was intentional—Luo Shangzhi wanted it to carry fear back to the Mexican Governor’s Office; only then would they dare not interfere with Great Ming activities.

Luo Shangzhi planned to establish twelve coastal defense inspection offices along the coast, for both patrolling pirates and serving as forward exploration outposts.

Land watchtowers, coastal defense offices—within less than half a month of arriving in Jinshan, Zhu Yiliu had built the framework of Jinshan's defense.

Luo Shangzhi suggested immediately sending envoys to the Mexican Governor’s Office demanding compensation for the surprise attack on Jinshan, to appease the Prince of Lu’s anger; Zhu Yiliu readily agreed.

How much compensation mattered little; the Jinshan Navy had just arrived and would not immediately engage in large-scale conflict with the Mexican Governor’s Office—what mattered was making a show of strength, even if it was bluffing.

Quan Tianpei visibly relaxed—he could now focus entirely on governing Jinshan City, no longer distracted by military, diplomatic, or long-term planning matters he was unskilled in.

Zhu Yiliu found Quan Tianpei exceptionally skilled at administration; Jinshan City was orderly and well-managed, yet Quan Tianpei was indeed soft-hearted, especially toward Han people—he rarely punished any Han settler unless they committed murder.

Quan Tianpei was a good man, but the Prince of Lu was not; the Prince of Lu, based on Great Ming law, promulgated the Jinshan Code, established the Jinshan Prefectural Office, recruited two hundred yamen runners, and reclaimed judicial authority from Quan Tianpei.

After April, Zhu Yiliu gained a fuller understanding of sovereign authority; the establishment of the Jinshan Prefectural Office immediately transformed Jinshan City: governance became clear, society harmonious, law respected, and neighborhoods peaceful.

This transformation made Quan Tianpei’s administration of Jinshan easier, even giving him a sense of effortless control.

At this point, Quan Tianpei clearly understood that this Prince of Lu was not the reckless, chaotic demon of rumor—he was learned and methodical in action.

But another rumor was confirmed: the Prince of Lu truly loved women from all nations; on May 3rd, during his inspection tour, he brought back a beauty named Iwemota, meaning “dew on a flower” in the barbarian tongue.

Soon, this beauty became one of the Prince of Lu’s concubines.

Iwemota was tall, half a head taller than ordinary palace maids; standing beside the sturdy Prince of Lu, she matched him in stature. Her thick, dark-brown hair flowed like silk; her wheat-colored skin was smooth and taut. When she first appeared, she wore a deer-skin skirt adorned with shells, animal teeth, and strings of gleaming black stones—these unattractive ornaments could not dim her radiance.

Iwemota’s background was not simple: her father was the chief of the Hopi tribe, the largest nearby tribe with over 150,000 people. After her mother was executed, she fled, eventually reaching the vicinity of Jinshan City, where Zhu Yiliu captured her.

The reason for her mother’s execution was surprising: her mother had learned Han script and collected several elementary Chinese textbooks. Originally serving as a translator for Jinshan merchants, she was accused of treason due to deteriorating relations with Jinshan and other reasons—learning Han script and possessing books became unforgivable crimes.

This violent purge claimed not only Iwemota’s mother but also several other translators and barbarians who had too much contact with Han people.

Zhu Yiliu struggled to understand the barbarian chieftains’ logic: if the Great Ming fell out with Spain, would His Majesty execute all interpreters fluent in Latin and Spanish? Li Yashi still lived unharmed!

After deep discussion with Quan Tianpei, Zhu Yiliu chose to understand.

Barbarians acted according to their own logic, incomprehensible to Han thinking.

For example, Han people saw floods as caused by inadequate waterworks, poor dike inspections, or corruption—many river officials in the Great Ming had been executed for dam breaches.

But barbarians did not: they believed floods were divine punishment, a consequence of mortal sins so grave they angered the gods—any hardship was blamed on the gods.

The Hopi territory suffered wildfires lasting months without extinguishing; the Hopi naturally believed this was the Sun God’s punishment, and contact with Han people was the tribe’s latest sin.

Thus, in barbarian logic, Iwemota’s mother’s execution made perfect sense.

Quan Tianpei believed that on this land, the resonance between heaven and humanity held profound power; even Shang kings interpreted omens according to their will, and even the ancient “separation of heaven and earth” by Zhuanxu could bring real change to barbarians.

In late May, the Mexican Governor’s Office sent twelve beauties, two thousand slaves, and two hundred thousand taels of silver, promising to deliver two hundred thousand taels annually to Jinshan City in exchange for the Prince of Lu’s forgiveness for the misunderstanding, pleading he not report the incident to His Majesty.

On one hand, the fast-sailing ships had instilled sufficient fear; on the other, the Pacific Trade Alliance was mutually beneficial—the Governor had departed for the Great Ming, yet these remaining colonists were obstructing the alliance.

Zhu Yijun stated:

Fundamentally, provoking a Great Ming vassal state is equivalent to provoking the Great Ming itself. As the Celestial Empire, the Great Ming will never tolerate provocation; its fast-sailing ships possess sufficient firepower to defend its borders and annihilate all provocateurs, preserving the Celestial Empire’s dignity.

The Mexican Governor’s Office, in collusion with the traitor Xie Ruixiang, sought to seize Great Ming’s Jinshan City—an unforgivable act. Jinshan has prepared fully for war; the Mexican Governor’s Office must accept severe punishment to learn its lesson and never again dare challenge the Great Ming’s dignity.

Yet since the opening of the seas, the Great Ming and the Mexican Governor’s Office have maintained excellent trade relations; the Governor’s Office ensured the safety of the Ming Embassy. Expanding the war would destroy this goodwill and harm both sides—ultimately leading to mutual loss.

The Mexican Governor’s Office has offered sufficient compensation, and the red-haired barbarians allied with Xie Ruixiang have already perished under Great Ming cannon fire.

Considering all these factors, if the Mexican Governor’s Office agrees to pay five hundred thousand taels of silver annually, the Prince of Lu will generously forgive its offenses and refrain from troubling His Majesty with this trivial matter.

The Mexican Governor’s Office envoy and Chief Secretary Meng Jinquan negotiated extensively, reducing the annual silver compensation to three hundred thousand taels.

The Viceroy’s office provided a piece of highly favorable news regarding Jinshan City.

Six hundred li from Jinshan City lay a silver mine long ago surveyed by the Viceroy’s office; this mine held abundant reserves, yielding over four million taels of silver annually and capable of sustained mining for centuries.

The Mexican Viceroy's office once attempted to develop this silver mountain with 120 colonists and 800 slaves, but because the mountain lay within Hopi territory, travelers along the route were highly susceptible to Hopi attacks; after three years of mining and smelting, the Viceroy's office was forced to abandon it.

If Ming scouts were to reach this silver mountain, they would see the remnants of the mining town—stables, taverns, gambling dens, and all manner of abandoned mining tools left behind from those earlier efforts.

Six hundred li was not straight-line distance but road distance, for the mountainous terrain made roads winding, and the predominance of mountain paths gave the Hopi ample opportunity for ambush.

Zhu Yilu dispatched DunTai YuanHou scouts to explore this place known as “Maiden Silver Mountain”; if the Mexican Viceroy’s office had deceived Prince Lu, then the Mexican Viceroy’s office would bear the wrath of the Great Ming.

Compared to gold, silver was more vital to the Great Ming.

If this exploration truly uncovered the so-called silver mountain ruins, Jinshan City would possess both a gold mountain and a silver mountain, and Jinshan Kingdom’s importance to the Great Ming would rise once more.

Jinshan City placed great emphasis on this expedition, dispatching no fewer than six teams of DunTai YuanHou adventurers, following the maps provided by the Mexican Viceroy’s office.

Soon, the DunTai YuanHou located the position of Maiden Silver Mountain, and reconnaissance reports flowed in continuously.

The good news was that the Mexican Viceroy’s office had told the truth—it was indeed a silver mine, and the DunTai YuanHou successfully retrieved a batch of ore with richness comparable to a rich silver deposit.

The bad news was that the Hopi tribe had firmly occupied the mountain; alone around the mine lay a tribe of six thousand people.

Zhu Yilu, Meng Jinquan, Quan Tianpei, Luo Shangzhi, and others held a brief consultation and decided to recall all DunTai YuanHou teams, suspending further exploration for the time being.

Jinshan City’s expansion direction would turn toward the silver mountain, with the goal of incorporating Maiden Silver Mountain into Jinshan Kingdom’s domain within five to ten years.

Zhu Yilu convened Jinshan City's first public trial, with the traitor Xie Ruixiang as the ringleader, presenting a list of 128 accused that shocked the citizens of Jinshan City.

The execution platform for the public trial was erected on the Jinshan Harbor dock; seven days before the trial, Jinshan Prefecture began publicly announcing the crimes of these 128 individuals.

Quan Tianpei believed Xie Ruixiang held high prestige in Jinshan City, and executing him lightly might cause unrest; but Zhu Yilu employed the method of public trial, public verdict, and public execution to prevent the populace from speculating wildly about the case.

In Zhu Yilu’s view, the people were never incapable of distinguishing right from wrong; they merely speculated wildly because they lacked sufficient information—if all evidence, witness testimonies, and documents were fully disclosed, suspicion would naturally diminish.

The public trial system had already been practiced for five years in the Great Ming, proving the saying: justice resides in the hearts of the people.

Yet contrary to Zhu Yilu’s expectations, he had assumed the people would despise Xie Ruixiang for recklessly taking lives; aside from his subordinates, Xie Ruixiang himself was directly responsible for seven murders, including that of a seven-year-old child.

After the crimes were made public, the people grew even more enraged at Xie Ruixiang for secretly colluding with the Red-Haired Barbarians to seize Jinshan City.

In times of dire external conditions, people were willing to surrender some power in exchange for greater stability; the worse the external environment, the more power they were willing to relinquish. Xie Ruixiang’s killings had long been whispered about; as long as he defended Jinshan City, everyone could pretend ignorance, for tragedy had not yet struck their own doors.

But Xie Ruixiang’s collusion with the Red-Haired Barbarians to betray Jinshan City brought this catastrophic disaster upon every single person.

The public trial proceeded smoothly; after three days of evidence display, Xie Ruixiang and the other 128 were ordered by Prince Lu to be beheaded and their heads displayed.

While Xie Ruixiang was being beheaded and Prince Lu was busy organizing the affairs of Jinshan Kingdom, the Emperor of the Great Ming received, on the twenty-second day of the sixth month, a letter confirming Prince Lu’s safe arrival at his fief; seeing Prince Lu’s secure flower seal, Zhu Yijun exhaled in relief—at least this younger brother had arrived safely.

That was enough. Even if Prince Lu fled back in despair, Zhu Yijun would not blame him; the royal banner planted in Jinshan City was sufficient.

“Hahaha.” Zhu Yijun suddenly laughed as he read Zhu Yilu’s memorial.

Zhu Yilu’s memorial was less a formal report than a long letter, in which he rambled at length—about the sixty-three-day voyage, about the majestic volcanic rock of Jinqian Island.

What amused Zhu Yijun most was Zhu Yilu’s complaint that upon arriving, he was immediately put to work on the millstone, with no rest at all, and the labor was relentless.

Now, Zhu Yilu himself had become the donkey in the mill; the boomerang of years had finally struck Zhu Yilu on the forehead.