Chapter 1223 - Intelligence
In September, Kaohsiung had shed the oppressive heat of midsummer, and the sea breeze now carried a hint of coolness.
The Lichun lay quietly at anchor in Kaohsiung Harbor. This "pride of the Senate Navy"—a sail-steam hybrid cruiser—had just returned from dry dock in Bopu to its home port of Kaohsiung. The entire warship had been completely refurbished; even the sailors looked especially sharp.
After nearly a year of cruising, Lichun had spent the entire summer at Bopu Shipyard receiving comprehensive maintenance and overhaul, replacing some problematic components. As naturalized worker skills improved, Machinery Factory products were getting better batch by batch. Now they could replace those crude early components with superior parts.
Lichun's armament hadn't been significantly altered, but a newly designed 5-barrel Hotchkiss-style manually operated rotary cannon had been experimentally installed, designated the "Trial Type 34 Naval Auto-Cannon."
The Weapons Design Group intended it to replace some of the Navy's shipboard "typewriters"—after all, 30mm explosive shells were far more effective at destroying small vessels than 13mm lead bullets. The larger projectiles could also accommodate various ammunition types—three types were planned: explosive, armor-piercing, and incendiary rounds. However, only armor-piercing rounds were currently available.
The 5-barrel Hotchkiss rotary cannon was an automatic weapon similar to the Gatling gun, but structurally much simpler than the Gatling's multi-barrel design—hence its selection as a naval rapid-fire cannon.
The original Hotchkiss rotary cannon used 37×94R ammunition—a bizarre product born from the St. Petersburg Declaration's stipulation that explosive warheads must weigh no less than 400 grams. Since the warhead could only be filled with 15–20 grams of black powder, its explosion amounted to little more than a large firecracker. The half-kilogram-plus projectile gave a pitiful muzzle velocity of only 367 meters per second, with abysmal ballistic performance.
Considering that the Navy's small rapid-fire cannons were meant to target enemy small boats and sailors on enemy decks, there was no need for excessive explosive power. A 30mm caliber was sufficient. Reducing caliber allowed reduced gun weight—not only could larger vessels mount more of them, but they could also serve as sampan guns, Marine support weapons, and fulfill other requirements. To improve ballistic performance, the gun's caliber length was changed to 25, and the shell length was also extended. After these improvements, the Lingao version of the 5-barrel Hotchkiss rotary cannon outperformed the original in both muzzle velocity and ballistics. Theoretical rate of fire was one hundred rounds per minute.
However, using this weapon required fixed ammunition. Since brass cartridge case drawing hadn't yet made it onto the Planning Commission's development agenda, they used rolled cases with simpler manufacturing processes—though not entirely reliable, they caused no practical difficulties. To recover the cases, a special brass catcher was also provided.
Lichun wasn't visiting Kaohsiung for the first time, but its reappearance immediately put all parties monitoring Australian movements on high alert.
This "giant ship" belching black smoke and flying sails was nothing like that "Holy Ship" in Lingao that never moved—many believed the Holy Ship simply couldn't move. Lichun frequently cruised the waters, its black smoke visible from a dozen li away.
Most terrifying of all, even spotting its black smoke from a dozen li away, it wouldn't be long before it caught up. Watching its dark, massive hull rolling through white waves as it passed proudly by, with thick black cannons standing on deck—this alone was enough to crush the spirit of anyone harboring resentment toward the Australians.
Its sudden reappearance in the Taiwan Strait stirred up the undercurrents there once again.
Li Siya again received a letter from Zheng Zhifeng. This time, Zheng Zhifeng made new demands.
Since Lin Shimao's mysterious disappearance, Zheng Zhifeng already knew that Li Siya's seemingly foolproof plan had been exposed. Besides the Australians kidnapping him, Li Siya might also have made him "disappear" to silence him—but the Dutch's complete lack of response in Tayuan and elsewhere indicated their alienation scheme had failed. Through Guo Huaiyi's activities, Zheng Zhifeng had learned roughly what had happened in Kaohsiung, including the entire operation's process and the Australians' countermeasures.
How strange, Zheng Zhifeng thought. From any angle, Li Siya had executed her plan flawlessly. In his view, Li Siya's arrangements could easily have cut off leads at every juncture. Particularly the woman she'd sent—her decisive suicide upon capture had severed the last thread. A masterful unsolved case—so how had the Australians managed to catch Lin Shimao as if by divine foresight?
Could there be an Australian spy near Li Siya or within the Zheng family? Or did they truly possess some kind of sorcery? Zheng Zhifeng thought of the many shocking rumors about Lingao that Lin Yishao had recently brought back. In his last letter, Lin Yishao had mentioned he was preparing to infiltrate Lingao to gather more information on the Australians.
But all of this no longer mattered to Zheng Zhifeng. Since the Australians had captured Lin Shimao, they naturally understood the mastermind behind it was the Zheng family—the day of reckoning between the two houses was imminent.
Trade between the two families hadn't stopped even during summer—ships of Great Wave Shipping flying the Morning Star flag continuously delivered Fujian's most urgently needed and profitable commodity: salt. Meanwhile, the various goods shipped out made the Zheng family's fortunes. But the Zheng brothers all understood clearly that this was merely surface harmony—the Australians currently had important matters to attend to and temporarily didn't want to cross swords with them.
Once their business was finished, the Australians would unhesitatingly bare their fangs—was there any benevolence or righteousness on the East Asian seas? Let alone the fact that the Australians and the Zhengs had nothing more than a business relationship. Just a few years ago, Li Kuiqi and Zheng Zhilong had still been "brothers."
The fifth year of Chongzhen had so far been a year of great development and smooth sailing for the Zheng family. In March, Xiong Wencang, who had overseen the pacification arrangement, was promoted to Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi—somewhat regrettable for the Zheng family, since Xiong Wencang was a man the Zhengs had stuffed full of money. However, Zou Weilian wasn't difficult to deal with either. Zou Weilian had served as Yanping Circuit Magistrate during the Wanli era, so he understood local customs, barbarian conditions, and coastal defense.
When Zou Weilian arrived in Fujian, Zheng Zhilong had just finished wiping out Chen Wan and Zhong Lingxiu's remaining land forces, who had previously rampaged across both land and sea in Fujian. This campaign earned him promotion to Guerrilla General. In May, more Zhong Lingxiu remnants sailed warships to cause trouble around Haicheng, Taihe, and other areas, and Zheng Zhilong defeated them as well. This made Zou Weilian greatly reliant on Zheng Zhilong.
Originally Zou Weilian had been preparing to transfer Zheng Zhilong's forces to Jiangxi to suppress bandits, but not long ago Liu Xianglao had attacked Minan Town with a fleet of 170 ships, plundering and killing, seemingly intent on assaulting the provincial capital. Zou Weilian dared not hesitate—he immediately retained the still-undeployed Zheng Zhilong to deal with Liu Xiang. At this moment, he was marshaling troops, preparing to crush Liu Xiang's forces invading Fujian in one stroke.
Though Liu Xiang's direct assault on Minan seemed like a direct challenge to Zheng Zhilong's coastal hegemony, in Zheng Zhilong's eyes, Liu Xiang was no longer his primary adversary.
Originally the Zheng family had viewed the Australians as merely one of the larger "pirate gangs" in Guangdong waters—suddenly risen through peculiar technologies like iron ships, and one that didn't even participate in maritime trade. But after their ships raided Guangzhou and burned the Wuyang Station, the Zheng family's view of them had completely changed.
Now, although Liu Xianglao still prowled around Shantou and Shanwei, harassing the Fujian coast and constantly sending ships to Batavia and Manila—clearly competing with the Zhengs for Western trade—much more serious news had come from Japan: Australian envoys were active around Goto and had gotten close to the Zhou family, who possessed a shogunate vermillion seal! Not only that, they had even penetrated as far as Hirado.
Hirado was practically a second hometown to Zheng Zhilong—it was also where he'd made his fortune.
The Australians' purpose in going to Japan was obvious.
Outrageous presumption!
This wasn't merely a matter of face—it was a life-or-death issue. By comparison, Liu Xianglao's various actions might affect the Zheng family's income but weren't fatal. If the Australians captured the Japan trade route, the Zheng family would be completely uprooted.
For this reason, Zheng Zhilong had already designated the Australians as his primary enemy.
Though Li Siya was no longer trusted, she remained the person who knew the most about the Australians and had dealt with them directly. So the crucial intelligence gathering work still fell to her. First and foremost was determining just how many ships and men the Australians actually had.
The first item in this letter demanded that she provide detailed intelligence on the Australians' largest warship—the Lichun.
That Zheng Zhilong wanted to fight the Australians didn't surprise Li Siya—it was inevitable. But gathering intelligence on the Lichun and Australian naval strength would be difficult for her.
True, she'd cobbled together a rough picture of Australian naval power from various scattered intelligence, and could describe the iron ships' appearance and some capabilities—but it was all secondhand information. Even Li Huamei had never been aboard any of the "black smoke" Australian ships.
Still, she was quite certain that Zheng Zhilong was no match for the Australians. From this perspective, she also had to do everything possible to help Zheng Zhilong salvage the situation, lest the seas become the Australians' domain—then there'd be no place left for her.
This task could only be entrusted to her milk-sister—only Li Huamei, who was about to join the Australians' organization, might possibly know the true secrets of these ships.
It was now early September. Under normal circumstances, her milk-sister's Hangzhou should have returned to Macau by late August—now was the right time.
She sat down and began writing a secret letter in invisible ink.
(End of Chapter)