Chapter 275: Malice

"This sort of behavior, which openly undermines and violates the interests of Portuguese merchants, is something the gentlemen of Macau cannot accept. It is an extremely dangerous act — no one can monopolize the Japan trade."

After hearing Juan's account of the Manila story, Alonso, though already aware that no further help could be expected from this ally, nevertheless made his side's position unmistakably clear.

Upon hearing his fellow trader's statement, Juan was not surprised. The immensely profitable Japan trade was something no power could easily abandon; that trade route had once been a target the gentlemen of Manila had drooled over as well — why else would the flat-faced ones have built a fortress in the north of Taiwan?

Suppressing the schadenfreude stirring in his heart, Juan extended a hand to guide the way and, with a smile, hinted, "This kind of behavior is dangerous — for both sides."

Standing at the southernmost tip of Dayuan Island, one could gaze out at the Erkun sandbank floating on the sea a few hundred meters away. This string of sandbanks, all named after the kun, diminished in size one after another; in the future, all these islets would silt up with sea sand and merge with the main island into a single landmass.

But in this timeline of the Transmigrators, the southernmost tip of Dayuan Island had already gained a sand embankment connecting it to the main island. This sand embankment and the one at Beixianwei Island were both built using the Seabed Scoop to dredge silt from the Taijiang; by now, the Taijiang had been completely sealed off by the two sand embankments, and outsiders could only enter and exit through the main channel of Dayuan.

The two bishop-envoys stepped onto the broad and long sand embankment.

Noticing that Alonso was gazing out at the flourishing, splendid scene on the opposite shore of the Taijiang, Juan could not help but shake his head slightly. Then, he kicked something underfoot with his shoe. "Look at this. What is it?"

Alonso looked down at the sound and discovered a long, black iron pipe half-buried in the sand beneath his feet, stretching all the way to the opposite shore of the embankment.

"I suppose this must be some kind of water pipe." Although he had never seen a cast-iron pipe as thick as a thigh, Alonso still guessed its purpose.

"Yes. The owner of this place has brought clean, pure water from the distant opposite shore, channeling it through this pipe all the way to the bathroom of the Shang Hall."

Having said this, Juan walked a few steps forward, then bent down and pointed at the joint connecting two sections of the pipe, continuing, "The craftsmen here possess superb skill. They can build many wondrous machines and structures. You should go see that water tower."

Alonso bent over to examine the flange connecting the pipes, then nodded in agreement. "Yes, no one would deny that. The ships without oars and sails left a deep impression on me. They have some strange machines that can move on their own."

"Therefore, hostility is dangerous — for both sides," Juan said meaningfully.

Alonso understood his implication: since the craftsmen here could manufacture those ingenious machines, they could also manufacture weapons of formidable power. In fact, the tale about the Dutch having a ship sunk by the garrison's cannon at a distance of one league had long since spread to every power in East Asia, carried along by the rum in the Pirate Bar.

If the above rumor was merely a tall tale, then the Type 38 Rifle — with its absurdly exaggerated range, rate of fire, and accuracy — was certainly no rumor. Many sailors had witnessed the power of this rifle firsthand, especially those who got into brawls after drinking outside the Pirate Bar.

Therefore, Juan did not think highly of Macau's intention to resolve the dispute by force. Out of consideration for Alonso's dignity, he had already hinted at this point repeatedly and discreetly.

"These barbaric, backward Eastern pirates — the Lord's flock should not be bullied and oppressed by them!" Alonso said, his voice tinged with both anger and helplessness.

"They are no longer pirates. That mysterious King of Pirates, Cao Chuan, has already been enfeoffed as a General of the Ming State by the local Governor-General." Juan's expression, as he said this, was full of sarcasm. "The story of Elizabeth I and the great pirate Francis Drake is nothing new in this ancient land — a local Governor-General can accomplish it all by himself."

At this, Juan's expression turned bitter. "What is worth guarding against is that pirate chieftains like Francis Drake and John Hawkins are often quite excellent when it comes to warfare."

Hearing this, Alonso nodded heavily. "Yes, the defeat of the Invincible Armada forty years ago can attest to that. Forgive me — that was a tragedy."

Juan waved a dismissive hand, then said to Alonso with solemn gravity, "Those Ming Dynasty Nobility who rule this land are, without a doubt, civilized men. For no pirate could ever build a city so beautiful and clean. Mister Special Envoy, you will soon sense that they are completely different from the barbaric Ming People on the mainland."

"Therefore," Juan paused briefly before continuing, "trust me: you absolutely must not deal with the owner of this place using your old ways of thinking. Their power is immense."

After strolling for a while along the sand embankment, which stretched for several kilometers, the two envoys, having exchanged their views, turned and retraced their steps.

After this, Alonso began a long wait. And it was not until he had toured the entire vicinity of the Taijiang that he finally received an audience with the Transmigrators — by then, seven days had already passed since his arrival at Dayuan.

The one who received the Portuguese envoy was Tang Qiao.

Because his time of crossing over had been relatively late, Comrade Tang Qiao — an advanced talent proficient in three foreign languages — had no choice but to end up doing the dirty work in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Tasks like going to the Dutch Fleet as a hostage, or receiving a Portuguese envoy — these were all his.

Thus, when Alonso arrived at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in full formal attire, the person he met was, naturally, a Tang Qiao in a foul mood.

As a result, the initial meeting between the two sides ended in discord.

The process was simple: Alonso first lodged a series of protests, all of which Tang Qiao flatly rejected, and then, going even further, he threw out a memorandum.

The contents of the memorandum made Alonso utterly furious: the Transmigrators not only demanded to establish a consulate in Macau, but also to set up a customs house on Portuguese Territory. Henceforth, all ships traveling back and forth through the Pearl River Estuary would be subject to tax collection and inspection by the Transmigrators — leaving the Portuguese with no role whatsoever.

This memorandum, a preposterous farce of the highest order, left Alonso dumbfounded. It must be understood that, after the "tour and learn" activities of the past few days had concluded, Alonso, having genuinely perceived a part of the Transmigration Nation's power, had in fact already decided not to keep tearing into the Transmigrators over the Japan trade issue.

For the Portuguese, losing the Japan trade was regrettable, but it was far from a crippling blow. The Portuguese, who had held a monopoly on the Guangzhou trade for seventy-five years, did not depend on the Japan trade the way other powers did.

In Alonso's plan for today, if he could trade the abandonment of the Japan trade for trading rights at Dayuan — choosing as the Dutch had done — that would still have been an acceptable way to resolve the issue.

Yet upon seeing this memorandum, Alonso's nose seemed to catch a whiff of gunpowder smoke.