Chapter 491 - Tang Yunwen Arrives
Huang Ande laid out the mission concisely: the Chief's expectations, the enemy situation, and the concrete implementation plan. According to the map markings, the target area contained a sizable refugee settlement—approximately forty to fifty shacks scattered across a five-square-kilometer radius. The estimated population was no fewer than one hundred souls.
For ten men to apprehend a hundred across such terrain of such complexity was, on its face, an impossible assignment. Yet they possessed two decisive advantages. First, Huang Ande knew the precise location of every shack and the optimal route to reach each. Second, the distance between dwellings measured at least two to three hundred meters, with numerous hills, woods, and tall grass providing separation. So long as they moved swiftly and maintained silence, they could arrest the occupants one by one.
The squad then deliberated on their route of action, deciding to establish a temporary holding point in a relatively central and concealed location within the operational area. They would capture multiple groups before escorting them back collectively, avoiding the waste of time and energy from repeated trips. They also verified communication methods and signals repeatedly until every man had committed them to memory.
"Move out!"
The arrest operation lasted two days. Huang Ande completed the mission successfully, apprehending over one hundred refugees and seizing a quantity of production materials and grain.
Wang Ruixiang ordered all persons and goods transported to Bairun City for processing. The captured refugees—eyes wide with terror and bewilderment—were bound into columns of ten and led away. As for the small plots of land they had reclaimed, the parcels were too scattered and inaccessible to be worth maintaining. All were abandoned to fallow.
The land confiscated from the Fu Yousan household would, per Wu De's instructions, be leased to Fu Buer for immediate cultivation to prevent it from lying fallow. The harvest would be divided forty-sixty between state and tenant.
Outside Bopu Harbor, Qiongzhou Strait.
"This is Bopu?" The voice carried unmistakable surprise.
The speaker appeared to be around forty years of age. His face was dark and weathered, the texture of skin long exposed to sea winds. Yet his eyes retained a keen vitality. He stood on the deck of a two-masted fishing boat—the common type plying the Qiongzhou Strait—his gaze fixed upon Bopu Harbor in the distance.
"Yes, My Lord," the man beside him answered quietly, with evident respect.
"You've forgotten again!" The middle-aged man frowned at his subordinate's inability to adapt.
"Yes, yes—Master."
"Who addresses a fisherman as 'Master'?" The middle-aged man's displeasure was palpable. "Call me Boss." With that, he fished a bamboo tube from beneath a basket of fish and shrimp. Uncapping it, a dark object slid out—one of the rarest instruments in China at that time: a Dutch-made monocular telescope. It had been purchased from the Portuguese in Macao. Only a handful of coastal generals in Guangdong and Fujian had seized opportunities to acquire such a rarity. The device had been invented in Europe less than twenty years prior.
The middle-aged man raised the telescope to his eye, closed the other as the Red-haired barbarians had instructed, and slowly adjusted the tube. The field of vision clarified, and he trembled involuntarily—before him stood the battery upon the embankment of Lingao Cape.
This fortification had certainly not been constructed by the Ming army. On this point, the middle-aged man was absolutely certain. He studied it carefully. The battery's design differed from standard fortifications, bearing certain similarities to the "Western-style platforms" advocated by Lord Sun Yuanhua. It seemed the rumors were indeed accurate.
This man clutching the telescope was none other than the figure discussed daily by the transmigrator group's military and intelligence departments: Tang Yunwen, Assistant Regional Commander of the White Sand Water Fortress, concurrent commander of Qiongya Land Forces and various other positions, and Assistant Commander of the Imperial Bodyguard.
This lengthy title identified him as the highest-ranking garrison commander the Ming Dynasty maintained on Hainan Island, with authority over both naval and land forces. When the transmigrator group eventually clashed with the Ming government, nine times out of ten, it would be his troops they faced.
Tang Yunwen had not learned of the transmigrator group's arrival late. On D-Day itself, the beacon towers had reported to him: Lingao's beacon signal indicated alarm—pirates were invading. This was hardly novel; pirate incursions in this region occurred routinely. Garrison forces lacked the capacity to respond to each one. The standard strategy was "strictly defend camps and cities, waiting for the bandits to depart on their own." Thus, the report attracted little of his attention. More than ten days later, he received a plea for assistance from the Lingao County Yamen, claiming that a group of "overseas magnates" had landed and were building camps with apparent intentions of "prolonged occupation," requesting him to dispatch troops expeditiously to expel them.
Given his responsibilities, such a plea naturally warranted sending an investigator to assess the situation before deciding on troop deployment. But Tang Yunwen's actual circumstances made easy deployment impossible.
Tang Yunwen bore an impressive title. Theoretically, all naval and land garrisons on Hainan Island—including recruited soldiers and Wei-Suo troops—fell under his command. In reality, the forces available for combat at any given moment numbered barely over two thousand men, primarily naval forces stationed at the White Sand Water Fortress in Haikou Battalion. In truth, "Assistant Regional Commander of White Sand Water Fortress" represented where his actual authority resided. Those were the only troops he could genuinely deploy.
As for the Wei-Suo troops garrisoned across the island—beyond barely sufficing to "pacify the Li people," they served no useful function.
With a naval force of fewer than three thousand, he still had to dispatch substantial portions to patrol Huichang, Changling, Yangjiao, and other points around the island. Yet he faced unprecedented coastal defense pressures. In late-Ming Guangdong, the waters teemed with pirates of every stripe: professional pirates, merchant-pirates, coastal fishermen doubling as pirates when opportunity arose. Westerners also appeared occasionally to enliven the scene—Portuguese, Spanish, British, and Dutch, trading one moment and robbing the next, constantly seeking footholds on Chinese soil.
As the saying goes, when debts multiply beyond counting, one ceases to worry. Tang Yunwen had grown entirely numb to this coastal defense situation where fires ignited everywhere and smoke rose constantly. However earnestly Wu Mingjin pleaded in his letters, however gravely he described the situation—Tang Yunwen remained unmoved.
His sole gesture was dispatching two patrol boats to survey Bopu. This was nominally a standard coastal defense regulation; maritime patrols on Qiongzhou's West Route were supposed to visit Lingao waters every four days. In recent years, however, funds had grown desperately tight. Military pay had never been issued in full—the situation was barely maintainable during peacetime. Naval operations were expensive; ships required repairs and replacement. Even without combat, losses at sea demanded replenishment. The cost of a single vessel vastly exceeded the value placed on dozens or hundreds of soldiers' lives. Tang Yunwen had not received new ships for years, and even the annual public funds allocated for ship repairs were routinely reduced. To ensure vessels remained available for genuine emergencies, he was forced to minimize sailing frequencies. The result was that the patrol system had become a mere formality.
Tang Yunwen could only hope the appearance of his patrol boats might frighten off the pirates. If the opposition proved powerful enough to disregard his two vessels, he was helpless—just as he had been helpless against Zhu Cailao and Zhong Lingxiu all these years, and more recently helpless against Liu Xiang.
The chiliarch commanding the returning patrol boats, however, appeared to have suffered a tremendous shock. Face pale, he stammered incoherently about a "great iron ship tall as a city wall" now anchored in Bopu Bay. Government warships aside, even the Red-haired barbarians' "clip-board ships"—the largest vessels on these seas—were like sampans in comparison.
Tang Yunwen did not believe him. Only after repeated questioning and his subordinate swearing oaths to heaven with the most emphatic assurances did he dispatch his trusted officers to investigate. These confidants returned equally ashen-faced, confirming the report's accuracy. This shocked him considerably—if the opponent possessed such enormous vessels, would they not be invincible across the Guangdong seas? These overseas visitors were clearly neither the Red-haired barbarians nor the Franks he knew. Nor had they come simply to plunder—what wealth did Lingao possess that warranted bringing such a giant ship?
Tang Yunwen found himself in a dilemma. By his duty, regardless of these visitors' intentions, unauthorized anchorage and the establishment of shore encampments were highly improper. He should immediately dispatch troops to Lingao to drive these overseas visitors away. But deploying troops—setting aside every other consideration—who would bear the costs for provisions and wages? Counting on the Guangdong Provincial Treasury was hopeless. Wei Zhongxian had transferred the thirty-odd thousand taels accumulated in the treasury to the capital for major construction projects at the close of the Tianqi reign, leaving the coffers destitute. Qiongzhou Prefecture certainly could not produce this money. Lingao was even less to be counted upon.
Without money, one could not fight. Even with money to fight, he possessed absolutely no confidence of winning. How did one engage such a towering iron ship? Based on past experience dealing with Western vessels—since their ships were tall and their cannons had superior range—the Ming forces could gain no advantage whether boarding or engaging in artillery duels. They typically relied on fire attacks as their primary naval tactic, often achieving good results. But now the opponent possessed an iron ship impervious to fire and water. What could possibly be done?
In desperation, he could only consult his advisors for strategies. The advisors spoke all at once. Some suggested sending braves to board the enemy ship at night using grappling hooks. Others proposed fabricating dozens of extra-large "River-Roiling Dragons"—primitive naval mines—and dispatching small boats to release them covertly into the harbor...
As they enthusiastically offered schemes, one advisor among them interjected: "Everyone is offering strategies to defeat the enemy, but may I ask: where is the grain? Where is the pay?"
The signing room fell instantly silent. The advisors exchanged looks. This was the crux of the matter.
"War is the worst policy given current circumstances." The speaker was surnamed Jiang, named Youling—a juren by background and a veteran of official circles.
Jiang Youling's proposal was straightforward: dispatching troops was absolutely out of the question. Money and grain were one consideration; the opponent possessing giant ships indicated extraordinary strength. Rashly committing forces would result in defeat nine times out of ten.
Defeat was difficult to explain away. So long as no battle occurred, there could be no defeat.
As for pirates landing and plundering—this happened virtually daily along the Guangdong and Fujian coasts. It was nothing remarkable. So long as the Lingao county seat did not fall, regardless of any iron ships, the situation remained merely ordinary pirates landing to rob.
This method of muddling through while deceiving superiors had hardly been invented yesterday. After thorough discussion, everyone concluded this countermeasure was most appropriate. Thus Tang Yunwen simply played deaf and mute, turning a blind eye.
(End of Chapter)