Chapter 1179 - Hamada Shinzō

The islanders were nearly all fishermen, each one skilled at sailing boats. The Ming people living on the island even exaggerated, claiming the islanders' light boats flew like arrows across the water.

The common folk here, like those of the Gotō Islands, were descendants of the once-rampant Wakō pirates—less than a century ago, their forebears had followed Chinese pirate-merchants' ships every year to raid the Great Ming's coast, always serving as vanguard in battle.

Beyond this, they excelled at diving to harvest abalone and sea cucumbers, catching sharks, and processing shark fin—all skills acquired to serve Chinese merchants' appetites. Every year, great quantities of dried seafood were shipped from here to the Great Ming in exchange for the "treasures" brought on Chinese ships.

The island's ruling daimyō family, the Matsuura clan, had maintained their line since before the Warring States period and counted among the most ancient lineages of Japan's nobility.

The domain lord here used Matsuura as his surname. Like the Gotō clan of Fukue Domain, they had adopted the local place name as their family name.

The Matsuura clan was said to have originally borne the surname Minamoto, claiming descent from the Saga Genji. But they had also previously claimed Taira or Fujiwara ancestry. Such pretensions—attaching oneself to prestigious lineages—were common enough among daimyō.

Legend held that the Matsuura ancestors were valiant, hardy warriors from the eastern provinces, whom the Yamato court had relocated as garrison soldiers to the Tsukushi coast to defend against barbarians—those wild people, covered in pigskin and smeared with lard, the ancestors of the Jurchen. They had sailed crude rafts of bound logs, following the currents to plunder and kill along the Japanese archipelago's coast.

During the Heian period, this garrison system became nominal, and the central government forgot the warriors' existence. Abandoned in the wilderness, the soldiers formed factions, seizing weapons and land for themselves. By around the Kamakura period, they had coalesced into several warrior bands called "tō" that fought among themselves, establishing many independent "strongholds" and becoming "naval forces" that harassed the coast. The Matsuura family's ancestors had gradually risen during this ancient and chaotic era, eventually becoming overlords of the upper and lower Matsuura regions.

During Toyotomi Hideyoshi's era, the Matsuura also participated in the invasion of Korea. After the Battle of Sekigahara, having maintained neutrality, they survived as daimyō with a domain rated at 63,200 koku—far larger than Fukue Domain's mere 15,000 koku, testament to the importance of Hirado's foreign trade to the Matsuura family.

Hirado Island's terrain was rugged, with almost all roads running along slopes. Only a small flat area called Miyamae had been built up with stone walls, raised with rammed earth, and paved with stone slabs—this was the "Portuguese Wharf Market" trading plaza. Here docked Fujian ships with their bamboo-leaf sails, Zhejiang ships with grass-mat sails, and red-haired Southern Barbarian ships with cotton sails.

The Zhou family's ship dropped anchor here. After docking, the Zhou family sailors busied themselves unloading cargo while the Elders were led directly by Ping Kefu to a trading post, presenting Zhou Xingru's calling card.

That evening, a banquet was held at the post to welcome the "Australian maritime merchants" who had come from afar. Receiving them was a young man with a topknot shaved in the chonmage style, his hair gathered from the back to the crown of his head—a very neat appearance, clearly no older than thirty. This was supposedly a trading post, yet the visitor dressed partly like a warrior. Ping Qiusheng found this unsurprising—Kyushu had always been the lair of Japanese pirate-merchants. The various so-called naval forces were mostly of this character—the Gotō family had also risen this way. Most of these naval forces had only gained recognition as proper warriors during Toyotomi Hideyoshi's Kyushu campaign, leaving behind their status as "provincial strongmen" and "wild samurai" to finally become official samurai.

Though the visitor dressed like a warrior, his manner was warm, his eyes shrewd, his bearing unmistakably that of a merchant. Hirado had risen thanks to foreign merchants, so for local warriors, foreign merchants were money trees. Great Ming merchant ships were even called "treasure ships" in Hirado.

After host and guests were seated, Ping Kefu introduced the young man as Hamada Shinzō, the "post master" here. His father was none other than the famous Hamada Yahyōe.

Hamada Yahyōe—originally an obscure Japanese—had become a famous figure in East Asian foreign relations history by provoking a conflict with the Dutch East India Company, resulting in the "Hamada Yahyōe Incident."

Though this incident ended with the Dutch submitting, examining the entire affair revealed the greed of the Dutch, the brutishness of the Japanese, the power of Zheng Zhilong, and the law of the jungle governing East Asian seas—all on vivid display.

The "Hamada Yahyōe Incident" was ultimately bound up with Zheng Zhilong's monopoly position on the Fujian coast. And Hirado was also where Zheng Zhilong had first risen—calling it his base in Japan would be no exaggeration.

If they could strangle his trade here and break his monopoly—replacing it with the Senate's own—the Zheng Zhilong group would suffer a grave wound from losing a major income source. They might even collapse without a fight. This was precisely why the Executive Committee had approved launching Japan trade at this moment.

During summer, Great Ming merchant ships did not sail to Japan—Chinese ships bound for Japan only departed in winter. This gap period afforded ample time to accomplish many things. If Zhao Yingong proved sufficiently effective, rewriting the history of Sino-Japanese trade was not beyond reach.

By the time Zheng Zhilong's Anhai ships returned to Japan... Elder Ping could not suppress a surge of satisfaction.

The banquet proved fairly sumptuous, at least better than Ping Qiusheng had anticipated. He had read accounts suggesting that even the "imperial cuisine" offered to the Emperor was rather meager—just some extra dried seafood. This being an island, he expected little more than abundant seafood—which he had already grown weary of eating. But among the dishes now served were meat strips roasted with sauce, their aroma filling the air. He tasted a piece—like chicken.

"Is this Satsuma chicken?"

"Master Ping is well-informed." Hamada spoke Chinese, though with a strong Nanjing Mandarin accent—the meaning was clear enough.

Ping Qiusheng then praised the chicken's tenderness and flavor. In truth, before coming to Japan, the Agricultural Committee's cadres stationed at Jeju Island had asked him to procure some Satsuma chickens to bring back. Satsuma chickens had rich fat and grew well, adapting easily to Jeju Island's environment. In the short term, they could greatly alleviate the island's meat and oil supply problems. In the old timeline, Satsuma chicken was celebrated as one of Japan's three great native breeds. Though this timeline's Satsuma chicken had not yet undergone systematic improvement, the texture after tasting was indeed excellent. Combined with Lingao's Heavenly Chef series of seasonings, it would surely taste even better. He made a mental note to have Ping Kefu arrange procurement.

Besides this chicken, there were grilled fish and various shellfish and squid shiokara. Rice and mochi appeared as well, and naturally the miso soup that Japanese consumed year-round without tiring.

The glass-bottled rum Ping Qiusheng had brought also amazed the young post master. He drank two bottles before stopping, somewhat tipsy. In Tokugawa-era Japan, only wealthy merchants possessed both the means and freedom from the etiquette constraints of warrior and noble classes to pay proper attention to their food. But Japan's material conditions remained limited, and they were quite backward in culinary matters. Japanese alcohol in particular—despite sake's great fame in the old timeline, even developing an oenology-like system internationally—at this time Japan's brewing industry was still primitive. The market offered mainly grain-fermented alcohol; distilled liquor was rare, let alone high-grade spirits like "Peerless Champion."

Finally, servants brought out two dessert courses: pickled plum and persimmon yōkan. Ping Qiusheng had researched traditional Japanese confections. Never mind whether this pickled plum was the famed Nankō variety—the persimmon yōkan was an authentic Mino specialty unavailable locally in Kyushu. The Hamada family clearly lived in considerable refinement.

Hamada apologized repeatedly, explaining that his father was occupied with affairs at the main post in Nagasaki. Though Master Zhou had notified them earlier of the Australian guests' arrival, the short notice had left them unprepared. From their conversation, Ping Qiusheng learned that the Hamada family actually served as agents for Nagasaki's great merchant Noto Jirō. Their main business was importing raw silk from Quanzhou—the biggest commodity in Sino-Japanese trade, and enormously profitable.

When the topic turned to his father, the conversation inevitably touched on the "Hamada Yahyōe Incident." Hamada Shinzō could not help looking pleased—the East India Company's envoy had already arrived in Japan, conceding complete defeat. One of the principals, the Governor of Formosa, would also be turned over to the shogunate for punishment. In return, the shogunate would agree to allow Dutch ships back into Japanese ports.

By any measure, the Japanese had won a complete victory. But Hamada Shinzō showed no excessive joy, because the root cause—Zheng Zhilong's monopoly—remained unsolved.

Under Ping Qiusheng's gentle coaxing, Hamada Shinzō drank a few more cups and could not help revealing much.

In recent years, the entire Fujian coast had fallen under Zheng family control. The Zheng fleet had virtually monopolized raw silk trade between the Great Ming and Japan. Japanese wanting to buy raw silk in Quanzhou and ship it back would absolutely not receive a sailing permit from the Zhengs, and fleets without Zheng family permits could hardly transport goods safely home. This had practically strangled the throats of Japanese merchants holding vermillion seal certificates.

Either Japanese merchants obediently paid 2,100 taels of silver for a permit, or they risked having their ships intercepted by Zheng Zhilong—losing crew, vessel, and cargo alike.

Hirado in particular, ever since Wang Zhi's era, had been a major gathering place for Chinese pirate-merchants. Both Zheng Zhilong and his former father-in-law Yan Siqi had maintained posts here. Their influence among local Japanese was considerable, with many eyes and ears throughout the port.

"I heard his wife and son went to China."

"His father-in-law's Tagawa family is still in Hirado," Hamada Shinzō said, his face flushed from drink. "Many people work for him here. The domain lord also regards him with special favor."

Since Yan Siqi's era, Chinese pirate-merchants had enjoyed privileges in Hirado nearly equivalent to extraterritoriality—treatment almost like that of foreign "Western gentlemen" in the old timeline.

(End of Chapter)