Chapter 122: Direct Strike On Zhelin Bay
On the seventh day of the first month, in Chaozhou Prefecture City, within the Nan’ao Vice General’s Manor, there was an atmosphere of gloom and despondency.
Ever since several days ago when Ma Chenglie returned from Zhelin Bay covered in dust and dirt, he had locked himself in the study and refused to come out.
Even his most favored concubine, who often visited him in the past, was slapped away by him.
Ma Chenglie was not giving up on himself but was deliberating over his wording.
Nan’ao Island had been lost and the navy suffered a crushing defeat; such matters could not be concealed and would inevitably be exposed sooner or later.
Rather than being impeached through memorials submitted by others, he might as well proactively submit a memorial, give the Imperial Court an explanation, and keep the initiative in his own hands.
Of course, how to write this memorial was a profound skill.
Telling the plain truth would undoubtedly mean certain death.
Falsifying the battle report would be pointless.
Ma Chenglie had to find a way to tell the truth while shifting responsibility.
Thus, in the days after returning to the manor, he kept himself locked in the study, deep in meditation.
“Dong dong dong.”
Knocking came from outside the study.
“Master.” The concubine called out coquettishly.
“Scram!” Ma Chenglie cursed.
The concubine sobbed through the door: “Master, I came to bring you food. It’s fine if Master doesn’t want to see me, but Master must eat on time and not starve your body.”
Ma Chenglie, in a foul mood, scolded: “Stop sniveling! I haven’t died yet! Leave the food at the door.”
“Yes.” The concubine dared not disobey, responded resentfully, and left gracefully.
Ma Chenglie calmed his thoughts, took out a sheet of paper, placed a paperweight on it, selected a wolf hair brush, dipped it fully in thick ink, lifted the brush, and wrote.
“Imperially appointed Vice General co-defending Zhangzhou, Chaozhou, and other places stationed in Nan’ao, your subject Ma Chenglie humbly submits:
Regarding the rampant sea bandits and the loss of the flood area, humbly begging the enlightened sage to swiftly dispatch reinforcements to pacify the sea unrest.
On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month this year, the bandits assembled over twenty giant ships and suddenly attacked Nan’ao.
Your subject immediately led three Da Fu Ships and fifty sentry boats to suppress them. Who would have expected the tides to change abruptly… Although your subject personally slew three bandits, we were ultimately no match and withdrew to defend Zhelin Bay. This was all due to your subject’s poor coordination, underestimating the enemy, and rash advance…
The more Ma Chenglie wrote, the colder his neck felt. He sensed he was not far from the Ministry of Justice prison. In fury, he flung the brush, crumpled the paper, and tossed it aside.
On the floor, a layer of similar paper scraps had already accumulated.
Ma Chenglie slumped into his seat, painfully clutching his hair, his eyes full of bloodshot veins.
On this sea voyage, he had achieved no merit whatsoever. If he had only taken a few sea bandits or captured one or two bandit ships, he would not now be at a complete loss for words.
No matter how clever he considered himself, facing this total failure, even racking his brains yielded no excuse.
Ma Chenglie despondently gazed at the ceiling and muttered: “Is it that Heaven intends to destroy me?”
Just then, the door was knocked again. Anger surging, Ma Chenglie grabbed the Duan inkstone and smashed it toward the door.
The Duan inkstone struck the door frame with a loud crack, shattered on the ground, ink splattering everywhere.
“Scram!” Ma Chenglie roared.
Silence lingered outside for a moment, then someone said softly: “General, news from Nan’ao Island.”
“What!” Ma Chenglie opened the door like grasping a lifesaver, pulled the household soldier into the study, carefully bolted the door, and urged in a low voice: “Speak quickly!”
“This morning, Garrison Commander Huang sent a boat to Zhelin Bay with over two hundred heads.”
Ma Chenglie eagerly pressed: “Whose heads?”
“Didn’t say, but from the ship’s condition, it should be a group of sea bandits.” The household soldier took an envelope from his bosom as he spoke. “Sent along with them was also this.”
Ma Chenglie snatched the letter and tore open the envelope in a few strokes. At the top of the paper were two large printed characters: Official Gazette.
Below was also printed the date: Tianqi First Year, first day of the twelfth lunar month.
Ma Chenglie flipped it back and forth, confirming it was just an ordinary Official Gazette with no other words, and felt greatly disappointed while harboring deep doubts.
“Any other news?”
“None.”
“You may go for now.”
After dismissing the messenger household soldier, Ma Chenglie took the Official Gazette to the desk and examined it.
He had seen this Official Gazette before. The content remained the back-and-forth squabbles over the Red Pill Case and Palace Relocation Case, with the issue being the disposition of Li Kezhuo, who had offered the red pills.
The Zhe Faction and Chu Faction held that Li Kezhuo had merely erred in medication and should receive leniency.
The Donglin Party insisted Li Kezhuo had intentionally assassinated the sovereign and must be harshly punished.
As the Donglin Party gradually gained the upper hand, the Imperial Court’s penalties on Li Kezhuo kept changing.
Initially it was rewarding Li Kezhuo fifty taels of silver, then docking one year’s salary, ultimately settling on exile. This dispute finally concluded.
In truth, anyone discerning understood that no one up and down the Imperial Court truly cared whether Li Kezhuo lived or died.
Li Kezhuo had been recommended by Chief Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe.
The Donglin Party’s call for severe punishment was actually to attack Fang Congzhe. As the Zhe Faction leader, it amounted to striking at the Zhe Faction.
This year, the two preceding emperors passed away successively, power shifted repeatedly, and factional strife at court reached an all-time extreme.
All matters great and small disregarded right and wrong, judging solely by factional alignment.
Aligned factions: even poisoning the emperor earned silver rewards.
Opposed factions: even frontier commanders faced dismissal and stripping of honors.
Take the previous Liaodong Regional Commander Xiong Tingbi: after the Sarhū defeat, appointed amid crisis, he swiftly stabilized Liaodong, displaying fine generalship, a true pillar of the state.
Such a figure, fence-sitting between the Chu Faction and Donglin Party, unwelcome by either side, was casually dismissed and replaced by scholar Yuan Yingtai as Liaodong Regional Commander.
At this realization, Ma Chenglie’s eyes suddenly brightened, his heart racing. Amid sure death, he glimpsed a path to survival.
As long as he picked the right factional stance, could he escape punishment?
The question was, which stance counted as correct?
With the Donglin Party now dominant at court, they were aloof literati bound by classmates, same-year examinees, and mentors. Even if Ma Chenglie sought to join, they would not accept him.
Moreover, his ancestral home in Hubei made him naturally Chu Faction. Blaming the defeat on the Donglin Party would naturally secure Chu Faction protection, with incidental shelter from Zhe Faction and Qi Faction.
Nan’ao Island was mere specks of land, far less discussed than the Red Pill Case or Palace Relocation Case, soon to be buried under court squabbles and forgotten.
This thought struck; Ma Chenglie immediately spread paper and took brush in hand.
“Imperial commissioner Vice General Officer co-defending Nan’ao and other localities, your subject Ma Chenglie humbly submits:”
With the newly arrived two hundred heads and several damaged ships, Ma Chenglie hyped the twelfth-month twenty-eighth sea battle in the memorial, recasting crushing defeat as fighting withdrawal.
He then shifted tone: bandit forces overwhelming, to preserve Zhangzhou Prefecture he was forced to yield Nan’ao, thwarting the bandits’ landing attempt there.
Next, he analyzed why victory still lost Nan’ao: inadequate military funds, gunpowder damp and failing, warships unrepaired.
Tax reductions on merchants was longstanding Donglin Party policy; by citing funding shortages, Ma Chenglie subtly blamed them while dodging charges of shirking superiors or resenting the court.
Finally, he noted reorganizing defenses, begging Imperial Court allocation of ships and grain, requesting chance to redeem faults through merit.
The memorial’s wording was earnest, patriotic zeal overflowing—even he half-believed it.
After finishing, Ma Chenglie proofread repeatedly. After thought, he added that Nan’ao Island bandits seemed Li Dan’s men.
This phrasing offered triple benefits.
First, Li Dan’s notorious fame and vast power lessened Ma Chenglie’s guilt for territorial loss.
Second, it steered the Imperial Court from linking to civilian rebellion; same territorial loss, but sea bandit seizure lighter than rebel occupation.
Third, learning Li Dan occupied the island would prompt full Imperial Court preparations, not hasty pressure on Ma Chenglie to sortie, buying turnaround time.
Checks complete, Ma Chenglie transcribed the memorial draft neatly, dried the ink, and inscribed “Memorial on Nan’ao Sea Affairs” on the cover.
All done, the weight lifted from Ma Chenglie’s heart; long exhale of relief. Looking up, dusk neared outside the study. As he exited to summon a messenger for the memorial,
A household soldier came running in panic.
“General…”
Ma Chenglie’s heart clenched; he knew bad tidings, but already so wretched, he could imagine nothing worse.
The household soldier gasped out upon arrival: “General… Zhelin Bay is under sea bandit siege!”
“What!” Ma Chenglie chilled within; the memorial fell to the ground.
……
Just hours earlier.
Ten li south of Zhelin Bay on the sea surface, Lin Qian’s fleet assembled.
In Santa Ana’s officer’s restaurant, Lin Qian’s sworn brothers, Sea Wolf Ship ship masters, and acting ship masters sat around the table.
Too crowded, some acting ship masters stood aside without seats.
On the table lay a Zhelin Bay hydrographic chart, meticulously detailed: every military tent position, every ship’s berth, water village wall heights and courses, waterway routes, reef locations—all marked.
This was precisely what Shi Jun and other household soldiers had drawn under the Great Memory Restoration Technique.
The combat plan stated pre-departure; Lin Qian repeated: “Once more: this battle aims to capture ships—do not linger in combat.
Santa Ana first blasts the village walls, then Sea Wolf Ships charge in. Bai Qing, your ship goes here.”
Lin Qian pointed to the chart: a teardrop shape labeled “Jia No.2 Da Fu Ship”.
“Yes!” Bai Qing clasped fists.
“Zheng Aqi, your target here.” Lin Qian pointed again: “Jia No.3 Da Fu Ship”.
Zheng Aqi clasped fists to accept orders.
Lin Qian continued: “Shi Kai, Mu San—your ships support around the Da Fu Ships, boarding hand-to-hand if needed.”
The two named ship masters stood to accept orders.
“Other navy sea ships: grab if you can, else burn and sink. Carbon heat agents allocated per ship—use carefully, don’t singe your eyebrows.”
Lin Qian’s light tone drew hearty laughter from all sea bandits.
Laughter done, Lin Qian sobered: “That’s it—to your stations!”
“Yes!” Sea bandits rose as one, clasping fists, murderous aura thick.
Ship masters gone, Bai Langzai said: “Helmsman, let me help on my sister’s ship. This blade hasn’t tasted blood since mine.”
Lin Qian pondered, nodded: “All right—but careful. If overwhelmed, retreat promptly. You and your sister outweigh the ship.”
“Yes—Helmsman, worry not!” Bai Langzai clasped fists excitedly, descending with Bai Qing.
Bai Langzai staunchly loyal, Lin Qian loath to risk him lightly.
Yet per Shi Jun’s account, twelfth-month twenty-eighth eve, household soldiers oversaw each navy warship, sustaining high morale without swift rout.
Now navy freshly routed, borrowed garrison household soldiers returned, morale surely plummeted.
Sea bandits ashore at worst plundered villages, never struck court navy directly. Southeast seas lacked Japanese Pirates for decades; camp soldiers unguarded. This raid seized first-mover advantage.
Thus attacking Zhelin Bay was near-certain.
Da Fu Ships vital to Lin Qian, hence approving Bai Langzai for boarding aid.
Ship masters aboard, fleet northbound; under half shichen entered Zhelin Bay, rounded flood continent island, reached two hundred paces off water village—unhindered.
Lin Qian raised telescope: water village walls, guarding soldiers scurried tensely; inside, warships battered, barracks deathly still.
Lin Qian stowed telescope, voice icy: “Open fire!”
“Open fire!” Chen Jiao bellowed.
Cannon deck, Lei Sanxiang ready, roared on order: “Fire!”
Instantly, fourteen Siren Cannons belched flame; walls ringed by massive water columns.
Bombardment half shichen, walls half-collapsed.
Guns silenced, blue flags swirled.
Ten Sea Wolf Ships in line charged water village like wolves on sheep.
Santa Ana shifted northwest of water village, shelling shore barracks.
Telescope view: solid shot strikes raised dust clouds; dozen barracks toppled, soldiers flitted like headless flies.
Officers bellowed for ranks and boarding—but orders ignored.
Water surface, Sea Wolf Ships alongside warships: matchlock guns, Franchi Cannons cleared decks first, then boarded.
Gun smoke amid, Bai Qing and Zhong Aqi’s Sea Wolf Ships reached two Da Fu Ships; crew hurled grapples, drew ships close, climbed ropes to decks.
Bai Langzai first aboard deck, Great Miao Saber gleaming fiercely, blade whirling; deft twists: two soldiers’ necks gushed blood, one calf severed—gory scene.
Bai Langzai agile by nature, sharp blade in grip, versus will-less soldiers: tiger amid sheep, scalding snow. Great Miao Saber swept broad; soldiers scattered before its path.
More crew boarded: Da Fu deck lopsided rout. Navy camp soldiers scarce resistance, fled shoreward pell-mell.
Gangways jammed fleeing camp soldiers, some shoved overboard nonstop.
Others, gangways choked, vaulted railings straight to sea.
Post-Spring Festival seas bone-chilling; Da Fu Ships offshore distant, piers high-hard to scale.
Fit camp soldiers barely swam ashore.
Many cramped on immersion, soon strength gone, heat fled—froze alive at sea.
Such “boarding combat” strained credulity; herding ducks seaward fit better.
Meanwhile, several Haicang Ships, Cangshan Ships captured, Lin Qian’s men sailed them from water village to galleon-side anchorage.
Leaky warships valueless: Lin Qian’s men neared, lit carbon heat agent rods, tossed aboard.
Rods’ black powder burned, reduction ignited: thousand-degree molten lead poured. Fireproof timber no match—instant blaze, decks lead-melted, cabins aflame.
Short order: Zhelin Bay fire-wreathed.
Flames birthed dense black smoke, miles-visible.
Smoke roiling, two Da Fu Ships burst through, other Sea Wolf Ships trailed; some sails afire, crew doused frantically with sand, water.
Fleet long anchored off Zhelin Bay water village, tallied all present, village cleared of own personnel, ships.
Lin Qian ordered island-return.
Fleet sailed, soon nearshore; Nan’ao Island loomed afar.
Lin Qian stern deck-stand, glanced back: gloomy sky beneath, Zhelin Bay smoke towered.
Santa Ana stern-aft, two Da Fu Ships sailed close; Jia No.2, Bai Langzai bow-stood wiping Great Miao Saber with cotton cloth, clear water—gleam afar-visible.
Jia No.3 Da Fu Ship, Zhong Aqi directed cabin-bailing; twelfth-month twenty-eighth battle heavily damaged—post-Nan’ao docking, thorough repairs needed.
Two Da Fu Ships flanked by ten Sea Wolf Ships; outer ring twenty-plus navy Haicang Ships, Cangshan Ships.
Lin Qian outbound: eleven ships. Inbound: fleet near-doubled—bountiful.
Especially these two Da Fu Ships, paramount.
Great Ming warships low-freeboard general, small-hulled, watertight bulkheads: cannon decks hard. Cannons atop open decks only.
Open decks: rail strength low, stability limits—no large-caliber; Sea Wolf Ship-like, Franchi Cannon mounts only.
Da Fu Ships differ: heavy Franchi Cannons feasible, thus twelve-pound Siren Cannons too.
Captured, refitted: fill Lin Qian’s scarcest mainstay warships.
Mere one cause for Lin Qian’s Zhelin Bay raid.
Strategic calculus too.
Prior heads, Official Gazette to Nan’ao Vice General: hoped Ma Chenglie retain post, deterring Imperial Court “fierce men” retaking Nan’ao.
Simultaneously gut Ma Chenglie’s forces, cow his court boasts of recovery—status quo only, coexist with Lin Qian.
Goal met: Ma Chenglie shipless, trump-less, Lin Qian’s plaything.
Deeper: Lin Qian desired Ma Chenglie court Chu Faction, Qi Faction, Zhe Faction.
Future eunuch faction: corruption-prone, easing Lin Qian’s later erosion of Great Ming core via Ma Chenglie, stable periphery sought.
Of course, premised on Ma Chenglie rational, capable.
If death-bent truth-telling, or witless flaw-betrayed.
Imperial Court suppression comes regardless.
At least: navy forces preempt-struck, self-bolstered—suppression-confidence higher.
None plans flawlessly; Lin Qian crafts endless Plan B.
Zhelin Bay, Nan’ao Island near.
One shichen: fleet Houjiang Bay docked.
Houjiang Bay dock now: thousand-plus Tanka Boats, seized Li Kuiqi ships, fresh-captured navy warships—port dumpling-packed, newcomers no-berth.
Dock built with ample spare; fleet boom filled it pre-year.
Lin Qian ordered idle ships to Shen’ao Port first, yielding Houjiang Bay berths to new warships.
Island craftsmen summoned dockside: Da Fu Ships emergency-fixed.
Dusk, Santa Ana captain’s cabin: Mute Huang’s apprentice Xiao Jiu knocked in, reported: “Helmsman, returnees: two Da Fu Ships, two Fuchuan Ships, fifteen Haicang Ships, nine Cangshan Ships. Master orders craftsmen hasten repairs.”
He handed Lin Qian the Da Fu Ship measurements.
Paper mimicked Lin Qian’s design charts: Da Fu Ship hull diagram.
Da Fu Ship: length twelve zhang, beam three zhang, draft six feet. Tall stern cabin, four decks—one cabin-internal, one open, two stern cabin decks.
Lin Qian rough-judged: mounts twelve Siren Cannons. Axe stern cabin layer: stern deck adds two light four-pounders.
Total: two Da Fu Ships armed, Santa Ana cannon deck added—fills forty-eight Siren Cannons.
Lin Qian sent for Jose.
Moments later, Jose knocked into captain’s cabin.
Lin Qian: “Order to Bu Jialao Cannon Foundry—business awaits.”
……
As Nan’ao Island hailed new ships.
Zhelin Bay water village, Ma Chenglie spurred horse hard; hilltop reached, tumbled dismount—bloodshot eyes despair-filled.
Zhelin Village flames out, charred expanse, smoke everywhere; walls half-down. Harbor: two Da Fu Ships vanished, better-condition warships gone too.
Sea-floating: few charcoal-burnt warships, splintered wooden boards, torn sails blanketing surface.
Shore: frozen-pale corpses wave-pushed, belly-up dead fish piles.
Shore survivors numbly corpse-hauled; sea-corpse mounds numbered.
Shore barracks lightly hit, six-sevenths stood; bricks-tiles-crushed stone carpeted ground, soldiers rubble-trudged.
Thus Fujian-Guangdong six great water villages’ one, Zhelin Village: name only remained.
Ma Chenglie dizziness-waved; eyes vacant heavenward, heart roared: “Curse you Heaven—why me thus!”
“General.” Household soldier steeled forward, clasped report: “Zhelin Bay two hundred-plus casualties, dozens missing…”
Ma Chenglie throat-sweet-bitter suppressed: “Ships?”
“Ten-odd sampans remain. Warships… none.”
“Ah!” Ma Chenglie sky-roared, Nan’ao direction hysterically: “Five-Clawed Flood Dragon, fuck your ancestors!”
Battle thus far, Ma Chenglie ignorant even of island-bandit name—knew only subordinates’ “Helmsman”, folk nickname “Five-Clawed Flood Dragon”.
“General.”
“General!”
Household soldiers saw Ma Chenglie mad-like, rushed to dissuade him.
Shing! Ma Chenglie blade-drew, suicide-bound; prepared household soldiers seized, gripped knife-hand dead.
