Chapter 231: Landing on the Island

After more than twenty days of sailing, the fleet carrying the Shandong government troops finally arrived at the island of Taiwan, docking along the western coast.

The Zheng family had long since made Taiwan a transshipment point for trade with Japan and the South Seas. In the central part of the island's western coast they had built docks capable of loading and unloading cargo from several ships at once. Zheng Zhilong had even, several years prior, transported more than two thousand displaced farming households from Fujian to Taiwan to clear land, cultivate military farmland, and plant rice and sugarcane.

Once the sailors aboard had laid down the gangplanks, Wu Qun was the first to walk down.

After a few days of adjustment, Assistant Regional Commander Wu finally regained his vigorous, energetic self. But during those twenty-odd days, Wu Qun had either slept in the cramped cabin or sat on deck shooting the breeze with Chen Dashuan and the others. Wu Qun, who had been full of curiosity about everything maritime at the start, had grown thoroughly sick of it. Now that land was finally in sight, Wu Qun, like most of the government soldiers, felt as if he were seeing a long-separated loved one — joy welled up in his heart.

The moment Wu Qun's feet touched the dock, he tried to stride forward boldly, but his body felt utterly unsteady. He staggered several steps before managing to stand firm.

He paused for a moment, then suddenly understood: after more than twenty days spent on a constantly bobbing ship, suddenly setting foot on solid ground was bound to take some getting used to.

"General, why hasn't anyone come to welcome us? Weren't we told there were Ming officials on the island?"

Sun Rengui's voice came from behind.

Before boarding ship at Tianjin, the Ministry of War officials had briefly described the situation on the island to Wu Qun and the others — saying there were several thousand Fujian farming households that the Earl Who Pacifies the Seas had moved over earlier, and that the Fujian Governor's office had already sent a County Magistrate to manage these migrants. The Ministry of War officials urged Wu Qun and his men to do their best to maintain good relations with the court officials on the island, with civil and military supporting each other, so as to manage Taiwan well at the earliest opportunity and facilitate the court's later large-scale transfer of disaster refugees to the island.

But on the dock before him there were only the sailors of the Zheng family fleet, along with a crowd of thin, dark-skinned men who looked like coolies. Not a single official — not even anyone who looked like a foreman — was to be seen.

"Never mind all that. Get the soldiers off the ships first and clear space for the supply vessels behind us. This place is far from the Ming heartland after all — have weapons readied at once, against any contingency!"

Wu Qun ordered.

A dozen or so of Wu Qun's personal guards had already fanned out in all directions. Several guards holding flintlock pistols were driving off the men who looked like coolies, while soldiers disembarked one after another from the several ships that had come alongside.

Once all the soldiers from the first ships to dock had left their vessels, those ships cast off and moved aside, and the ships carrying cannons, muskets, blades, armor, and war horses came up to the dock. The Zheng family sailors had already hauled several simple pulley-hoist frames out of the dock's warehouse, preparing to unload the thirty Folangji cannons from the ships.

"I did not know the army would arrive today — this official failed to receive you properly. I beg the general not to take offense!"

Wu Qun, who had been sitting on a camp stool watching sailors and soldiers hoist the cannons down from the ships, whirled around. A few paces away, a middle-aged man of around forty — thin and gaunt, with a dark, swarthy face, wearing a green official robe and a Dongpo scholar's cap — was bowing to him with clasped hands.

"I don't deserve such courtesy! I am Wu Qun, Assistant Regional Commander under the Regional Commander of the Shandong Suppression Force. Might I ask how to address you, sir?"

Wu Qun hurriedly rose and returned the salute with clasped fists.

Judging by the mandarin duck rank badge on the man's chest, this middle-aged civil official should be the County Magistrate the court had sent to Taiwan. That a seventh-rank civil official would show such courtesy to a military officer like himself left Wu Qun rather flattered and surprised. Within Ming territory, civil officials encountering military officers would all stick their noses in the air — though in recent years the imbalance of civil over military had somewhat reversed, military officers still generally lacked confidence and self-assurance when facing civil officials.

"The general is far too kind! I am Lin Rong, County Magistrate of Taizhong County. I was ordered here over a month ago. Before I came, I heard that the court's army would arrive before long, and now that I finally see it, my heart is filled with joy! In the days ahead, when we work together, I do hope General Wu will look after me somewhat!"

Had he been a genuine jinshi — or even a juren — this civil official would not have given a second thought to a military officer of Wu Qun's rank. But circumstances compelled him. Lin Rong's courtesy toward Wu Qun stemmed from an unavoidable predicament.

Lin Rong had originally been a minor clerk in the household registry office of Quanzhou Prefecture in Fujian. The Lin family counted as a substantial clan within Quanzhou city — though none of them had ever held office, they had done business for years and maintained good relations with officials both high and low. Lin Rong had spent many years in the prefectural household office, and through his slick, all-accommodating ways had amassed a considerable family fortune over the years.

Once he had surplus wealth in hand, Lin Rong — who from his youth had envied those officials who sat in state and barked orders — began to harbor a quiet ambition. He hoped for a chance to gain official standing, the better to protect his own and his family's interests.

But he was not even a juren, and the extravagant hope of becoming an official was unlikely to be realized in this lifetime.

Just over a month earlier, Lin Rong happened to hear that the Governor's office was preparing to send someone to Taiwan to serve as County Magistrate. But when word got out that the post meant leaving one's homeland for a barren island, every official qualified for the position declared they would sooner die than go to Taiwan. The Governor was at his wit's end — he could hardly force men into office, could he? What sort of propriety would that be?

Lin Rong, already into middle age, heard the news and treated it like a treasure. A County Magistrate! A genuine seventh-rank court official! And Taiwan was only a few hundred li away, wasn't it? It wasn't exile or penal servitude, and he wouldn't stay on the island forever. Once he had that official standing, he could toil a few years on the island, then spend money to get back when the chance came. Wherever the court then posted him, he would be a proper grand lord.

After consulting with the elders of his clan and gaining their support, Lin Rong went that very night, carrying two thousand taels of silver, to the home of Zhang Weifeng, a staff advisor to Fujian Governor Zou Weilian, and declared his willingness to serve in Taiwan.

After Zhang Weifeng reported the matter, Zou Weilian — who had been fretting over the lack of anyone willing to take the post — considered it briefly and decided to send Lin Rong to Taiwan.

Zou Weilian naturally knew of the Emperor's edict about selecting talent without regard to conventional qualifications. But within Ming territory, breaking this entrenched pattern formed over a thousand years was extremely difficult — it would draw unanimous opposition from all officials of proper pedigree.

The matter of selecting an official for Taiwan happened to be the perfect opportunity. It conformed to the imperial will while meeting no fierce opposition. Added to that, Zou Weilian had long maintained a wary attitude toward the Zheng family, feeling that Taiwan must not be allowed to become Zheng territory. Under these various circumstances, Lin Rong finally got his wish.

Upon learning that the Governor's office had already reported his appointment to the Ministry of Personnel and that only the official appointment document remained to be issued, Lin Rong, in high spirits, donned his official robe and, bringing several clansmen, sailed to Taiwan.

Only after a few days on the island did Lin Rong realize things were not as rosy as he had imagined.

Zheng Zhilong had long since established posts on the island — advisor, construction supervisor, paymaster, warden, vanguard, and others — to manage the two thousand-plus migrants. Though the dispatch of officials to the island had been agreed to by Zheng Zhilong, the island had only allotted Lin Rong a courtyard, a few wooden houses, and an old man to sweep the grounds. Aside from someone delivering rice and vegetables, no one paid him any attention at all — let alone anything like issuing government decrees.

Lin Rong and his few clansmen had nothing to do all day but wander about and observe, gathering bits of information here and there to gain some understanding of the island's situation. Lin Rong knew well that he and his people would do better to watch more and act less — if he wanted to accomplish anything, he would have to wait until the army the court had dispatched arrived.

After waiting in agonizing, day-by-day anticipation, Lin Rong finally saw the court's army arrive. The moment he laid eyes on the dark iron cannons being unloaded and the tall, stalwart soldiers, his heart settled.

First, because of his inferiority complex over lacking a proper pedigree; second, because he would need to rely heavily on Wu Qun in the future — these were why Lin Rong showed Wu Qun such exceptional respect.

"General Wu, since there is nothing pressing at hand, might I invite you to step into the county office? I have fine tea at my residence awaiting the general's taste — and it will also help cure your discomfort from the unfamiliar climate!"