Chapter 201: When the Ship Starts to Leak

The risk, however, was worth taking. Lin Baiguang’s own journey to Nanri along the outer sea route had taken more than six days one-way. In an era devoid of telegraphs and telephones, news traveled at the speed of a ship. Once the fleet set sail from Nanri, Zhu Cailao could do nothing but wait. A minimum of fifteen days would pass before he could even begin to suspect that something was amiss.

And even then, what could he know for certain? Had the ships met with disaster and sunk? Had they been ambushed and robbed? Or had they simply lost their way? The myriad uncertainties of sea travel would paralyze his decision-making. Lin Baiguang calculated that he had a window of at least fifteen days of safety from the moment the fleet departed.

Fifteen days. A great deal could be accomplished in fifteen days. It was also enough time for Zhu Cailao’s provisions to run dry, forcing his hand and compelling him to launch an attack.

With this in mind, he began to compose his letter.

The message was simple, a straightforward report to the Executive Committee detailing the agreement, its terms, and the requirements of both parties. He also informed Lingao that Zhu Cailao intended to use the loan to purchase grain immediately and would expect a sale as soon as the ships arrived.

He wrote plainly, without any codes or ciphers. This was a calculated move to earn Zhu Cailao’s trust—the man would undoubtedly scrutinize the letter before allowing the messenger to depart. Any hint of secret writing or code, even if indecipherable, would only breed suspicion. Lin Baiguang had no idea of the sophistication of cryptography in this era, but he trusted in the intelligence of Ran Yao and the others to grasp the unspoken meaning woven between the lines. After the ink dried, he sealed it in an envelope, leaving it unmarked, and handed it to the young pirate outside to be delivered to the Lingao-bound messenger.

Let Zhu Cailao study it to his heart’s content, Lin Baiguang thought with a private smile.

At noon, Shi Shisi arrived with servants bearing his meal. The spread was as exquisite as ever, a fact Lin Baiguang found difficult to reconcile with the supposed scarcity of food. Four dishes were laid out: roasted ox scalp, blanched duck tongue, a clear soup with bird’s nest, and steamed abalone. Barring some differences in seasoning, it was a meal that would not have been out of place in a fine modern restaurant.

“Such a magnificent meal is a waste on me alone,” Lin Baiguang said. “With such fine dishes and wine, it would be a pleasure if Brother Shi would join me for a drink.”

“Gladly,” Shi Shisi replied, not one for false modesty. Besides, such fare had become a rarity on Nanri Island. Though as a mid-level leader he ate his fill, his meals lacked this degree of refinement.

“I’ll fetch a few more jars of good wine at once,” Shi Shisi said, turning to leave.

“If we are to drink, the more the merrier.”

“An excellent idea, but—” he glanced hesitantly at the lavish dishes on the table.

Lin Baiguang smiled. “It’s no trouble. Nanri is an island surrounded by the sea. Surely we can find a few nets of fish and shrimp?” He produced a small silver ingot, about two taels, from his purse. “Brother Shi, please take this for the expenses, and find a cook—the chef here is clearly a master of his craft.”

“There is no need for so much,” Shi Shisi demurred, refusing the silver. “Fish and shrimp? I’ll just have the lads go and catch some. They’re all from fishing families; it’s second nature to them. As for a cook, five qian will suffice—I can cover that! We can’t afford the head chef who cooks for Boss Zhu, but one from the smaller kitchens will do just fine.”

Refusing the silver again, Shi Shisi went off on his own. Lin Baiguang cleared the table himself, retrieving some dried meats, preserved fruits, and other snacks suitable for drinking from his own bag.

Half an hour later, Shi Shisi returned with his men, adding another seven or eight dishes to the table, all of them seafood: razor clams, oysters, prawns, and seaweed—the common bounty of the island.

“It’s only seafood…” Shi Shisi said, rubbing his hands with a touch of embarrassment. “I couldn’t even find a few eggs.”

“It’s already a feast!”

“I’ve invited a few friends I’m close with. They are also eager to meet you, brother!” Shi Shisi said with a grin. “Everyone wants to hear about the novelties of Lingao.” He laughed heartily.

Lin Baiguang smiled back. “What’s so difficult about that? Once things are settled here, you must all come and visit. Everything will be on me!”

As they spoke, four or five men filed in, a motley group of various heights and builds. Shi Shisi introduced them one by one. They were all “shopkeepers,” leaders of their own small crews, as well as minor commanders in Zhu Cailao’s personal forces. Greetings were exchanged, and everyone took their seats.

Shi Shisi had someone bring in several more jars of wine.

“I acquired this from a ship a few years back. Genuine Lanling wine,” he announced, his spirits high. He cracked the mud seal and poured a cup for each man.

After the first toast and three rounds of drinks, the conversation flowed freely, circling back to the wonders of the Australians in Lingao. Just as Shi Shisi had predicted, the men were intensely curious about the “audiovisual” entertainment he had experienced there.

From their chatter, Lin Baiguang learned that Zhu Cailao had long been interested in the transmigrators. When the Gou family estate was destroyed, he had even considered moving his entire force to Lingao. He was only deterred by the transmigrators’ “giant ships” and “fast boats.” Instead, he sent Shi Shisi on a “fishing” expedition for information. Later, Zhu Cailao became entangled in a chaotic war with Liu Xiang, leaving him no time for other ventures.

A close call, Lin Baiguang mused. If not for the deterrent power of their ironclad ships and the turbulent politics of the coast, a full-scale attack from Zhu Cailao back then could have been disastrous. The transmigrators, still finding their footing, might not have been annihilated, but they would have suffered grievous losses.

As more wine was consumed, tongues loosened.

“It really pays to have connections in the court,” Shi Shisi remarked with a flash of indignation.

“Oh? Has someone offended Brother Shi?”

“Hmph. The mission to buy grain in Lingao should have been mine. I’ve been there twice; I know the route and your rules. But no, they had to give it to that idiot He Xin! And why? Because he’s the cousin of the brother-in-law of Boss Zhu’s newest wife!”

The tangled web of relations was momentarily confusing, but the meaning was clear: the lucrative assignment had been snatched by someone with connections.

“Let it go. He has a backer. How can we, who clawed our way up from nothing, compete with that?” someone said.

“Damn it all! If I’d known, I never would have spoken of the wonders of Lingao! If I’d told them it was a living hell, he wouldn’t have been so eager to take my place.” Shi Shisi was clearly still captivated by his “adventures” in Lingao.

From him, Lin Baiguang learned that the ships sent to Lingao were twelve of Zhu Cailao’s largest vessels, ranging from five or six hundred liao to a massive two thousand liao. Zhu Cailao was clearly planning to “eat the big households,” as they say.

“Don’t worry about it, Brother Shi. There will be plenty of opportunities to visit Lingao in the future.”

“That little bastard He Xin relies on his damned relatives. He never sees a day of fighting, yet he reaps all the rewards. These royal relatives who get ahead by selling their women are all worthless!”

“Forget it. Where in this world is it any different?” a leader named Lin Dan said, downing a bowl of wine. “We sit here drinking and eating meat while the lads below gnaw on fish bones and drink salt water. Do you think they’re happy?”

“We earned this wine and meat with our swords and spears!” Shi Shisi pointed to a portly man beside him. “Old Hu here built his own ship with his own money and brought his whole family to join us. They have capital. What capital does He Xin have? A woman’s… assets?”

The group erupted in coarse laughter. Someone jeered, “Maybe his ‘capital’ is a few inches longer than yours…”

Lin Baiguang noted that the topic of sex never failed to provoke a lively discussion.

Shi Shisi, indignant, continued to vent his frustrations. “We risk our lives in battle, but they are always first in line when the money is divided…”

“Brother Shi, watch your words! Be careful!” Lin Baiguang, while pleased with this turn of events, was also wary. The incident with the serving girl, Xiaoshu, had put him on alert. Who was to say Shi Shisi wasn’t putting on a performance for his benefit? And even if he wasn’t, there were surely spies listening in.

Shi Shisi, fueled by alcohol, seemed ready to continue his tirade but was restrained by the others. The fat man, Hu, drained his bowl and sighed. “Our great gang is declining year by year. I remember when our two fleets, north and south, roamed the coasts of Fujian and Guangdong. What a sight we were! What style! Now we’re reduced to hiding on this tiny island, trapped and with nowhere to go!”

“In the end, it was that traitor Zheng Zhilong who broke all the rules! If I ever get my hands on him, I’ll chop him into a thousand pieces and feed him to the dogs!”

“Hmph, you think Li Kuiqi doesn’t want to? Or the big boss? But he’s a proper guerrilla general now, an official of the court.”

“What’s a guerrilla general? A sesame-seed official. We’ve killed a vice-general before. Why should we fear him?”

“He has more men and ships,” Lin Dan said, “and probably more money. I just don’t understand it. Last year, when Li Kuiqi broke with him, didn’t most of his men and ships go with Li? How did he become so powerful again in less than a year?”

“The court supports him. I heard Governor Xiong Wencan bought him cannons and built ships for him. His strength has grown immensely.”

“That old fox Xiong Wencan is just using a borrowed knife to kill his enemies.”

“And Zheng Zhilong is doing the same. He wants to use the government’s power to wipe out the rest of us, so he can have the sea all to himself,” Lin Dan sighed. “The big boss is no match for him.”

Fatty Hu said, “Come, let’s drink. We can still get by for now. If things truly go south, I’ll just raise my sails and flee with my family. At worst, I’ll seek my fortune in Southeast Asia.”

A pall fell over the group, the future a shared and heavy burden. At that moment, someone whispered, “Have you heard? Black Flag Fourth is planning to run.”

“Who told you that?” The news shocked them. Black Flag Fourth was no minor player; he was one of the pillars of the gang. His desertion would be a sign that the great tree was about to fall.

“It seems so. All his men have returned to their ships. Not a single one remains ashore.”

“If it really comes to that, I’ll run too. I’m sick of this life!”

“In that case, let’s all go to Lingao,” Shi Shisi blurted out. The suddenness of the suggestion startled Lin Baiguang. It was too direct, bordering on an attempt to entrap him.

“That’s right. The way you describe Lingao, I’d like to see it for myself,” someone else chimed in.

“You’ll have to be our sponsor then,” Fatty Hu said with a sincere expression.

“I can’t make any promises,” Lin Baiguang responded cautiously. “The Great Shopkeeper’s situation is not yet so dire. Everyone should remain calm. If we can weather these next few months, perhaps things will improve. Hasn’t the Great Shopkeeper already sent ships to Lingao for grain and gunpowder? But if misfortune should truly strike and you find yourselves displaced, there will always be a bowl of rice for you in Lingao.” He smiled. “For now, however, we should all work together to overcome these difficulties. When a great tree falls, the monkeys beneath it rarely fare well.”

“Shopkeeper Lin is right,” Lin Dan agreed. “Better the devil you know. Perhaps a turning point is just a few days away.”

“I’m just afraid that while we’re working together, the ones who have eaten the most fruit are already planning their escape.”

Xu Cheng, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke, his face flushed from drink and pent-up emotion. He was a junior officer in the central army and had been drinking sullenly without a word.

“You probably don’t know,” Xu Cheng slurred, his tongue thick with wine, “but the fourth wife’s brother recently sent out several ships loaded with goods. I don’t know where they went… And the brother of the second-in-command, Wang, is also gone… The iron chests in the old camp where the valuables were kept are much emptier now!”

Xu Cheng lowered his head, stammering, “I see it all now. Brotherhood, the code of the martial world… it’s all bullshit. Money is the only thing that’s real. I’ve been with the big boss for more than ten years, and when it comes to women, I don’t even get first pick of the leftovers. But his relatives, his clansmen, his slaves—they all become leaders, hauling women and goods home by the boatload!”

“You’ve had too much to drink. No more,” a few of the men said, their expressions turning uneasy. They quickly tried to silence him. Shi Shisi rushed outside the tent to check the surroundings. He seemed relieved to find only his own trusted men on guard.

“Keep a sharp watch. Signal me if anyone approaches!” he ordered before returning to the tent, where the others had managed to stuff Xu Cheng’s mouth with food.

“Brother Xu… he spoke out of turn. The wine…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I heard nothing,” Lin Baiguang said with a knowing smile.

It was clear that morale under Zhu Cailao was crumbling. The inner circle was frantically plundering what they could, preparing to abandon the sinking ship at a moment’s notice—the inevitable fate of this kind of feudal, family-run enterprise.

“Ahem, well, things are… alas,” Shi Shisi stammered, at a loss for words.

“It’s alright. Let’s keep drinking. Let’s talk only of pleasure, only of romance.”

Twelve days had passed since Zhu Cailao’s fleet had departed for Lingao.

In that time, Zhu Cailao had not summoned him again. In the pirate chief’s eyes, Lin Baiguang’s usefulness as an envoy was likely over. He was now merely a hostage.

Through Shi Shisi, Lin Baiguang had become acquainted with many of the fleet’s leaders. His days were spent in a cycle of drinking and gambling. He had brought a good amount of silver as an expense fund and had taught them to play twenty-one with a deck of cards he’d brought. The novel game, simple and exciting, quickly became their favorite pastime.

Since gambling was inconvenient within the central army’s stockade, he went to Shi Shisi’s camp daily to drink, gamble, and watch the young pirates practice their boxing and wrestling.

The girl, Xiaoshu, was still sent to his tent each night. Lin Baiguang, not one to be pretentious, even invented new games to play, and her cries of pleasure could be heard for miles around.

Through his indulgence in gambling, women, and wine, he cultivated the image of a man lost to sensual pleasures. No one connected his frequent carousing with the leaders to anything more sinister. It was a calculated act of self-preservation.

Yet, he remained disciplined on one crucial point: he never dropped the slightest hint of recruitment. On the contrary, many of them came to him, asking about Lingao’s situation and strength. Small groups, having lost hope for the future, were already slipping away with their ships in the dead of night.

When the chaos finally erupts, he calculated, it shouldn’t be too difficult for me to seize the opportunity and lead away a hundred or so ships.

However, he was troubled by the historical accounts. Zheng Zhilong and the Ming fleet had pursued Zhu Cailao all the way to Nanri Island and defeated him here. How was he to survive the ensuing melee? To die in the chaos of battle would be a cruel injustice.

He pondered this every night. He was alone and unarmed. His only viable plan, he concluded, was to get himself onto Shi Shisi’s ship before the battle began. That old sea dog would surely have a plan to escape.

But another threat began to loom. The fleet sent to Lingao, just as he had predicted, did not return on schedule. After several days of waiting, Zhu Cailao grew agitated. Unsure of the cause, his suspicion fell upon Lin Baiguang. Yet, reports described a man who did nothing but drink, gamble, and carouse with women, showing no sign of treachery.

“Damn it, what the hell is going on!” Zhu Cailao raged.

Then, suddenly, Lin Baiguang was forbidden from leaving the central stockade. Though his food, wine, and women were still supplied, and Shi Shisi still visited, he was effectively under house arrest. It was the first clear signal of danger. Lin Baiguang knew the situation would come to a head within days.

With his supplies long overdue, Zhu Cailao would inevitably follow the path of history and launch an all-out assault on Min’an. That much was predictable.

What was not predictable was how he would react to the fleet’s continued absence. Would he simply have Lin Baiguang executed before marching off to war?

Powerless, Lin Baiguang could only wait and trust in fate. He had a feeling, however, that it would be fine.

On the evening of the thirteenth day, as Zhu Cailao and his chief commanders were meeting in the main tent, the sharp rap of a wooden clapper echoed through the camp, startling them.

“What is it?!” he demanded. It wasn’t the cannon signal for an enemy attack, but the clapper signified an urgent, unforeseen event.

A moment later, a messenger rushed in with a report: another group of ships had deserted.

“It’s Black Flag Fourth’s fleet!”

A stir of commotion went through the commanders. Black Flag Fourth was no small-time operator. He commanded six large ships and twenty smaller boats, a mid-level power who had flown Zhu Cailao’s banner for a decade. His abrupt departure was a clear vote of no confidence in their future.

“Great Shopkeeper! I will go and bring him back!” one of the commanders volunteered.

“Let it be! You cannot hold a man who wishes to leave,” Zhu Cailao said, his face ashen. “We have been brothers-in-arms. To stop him now would surely lead to bloodshed, making us a laughingstock to outsiders. Let him go. Perhaps this way, we leave room to meet again one day.”