Chapter 388 - The Visit

The dockworkers pushing the carts and the construction workers repairing the road panicked when they saw the headman’s alarm. Fortunately, they had been working under the banner of the Yuanlao Senate for some time and had some sense of organization and discipline, so they didn’t scatter in a panic.

Hong Laojun held his pistol, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind. In the old world, he had organized many projects, managed dozens of foremen, and led thousands of workers. He had seen all sorts of situations. Hearing the roar of cannons and seeing thick smoke rising from the docks, followed by white smoke from the Qishan battery, he guessed that an enemy was most likely attacking from the sea and shelling the docks.

He quickly blew his whistle. “Team leaders, assemble your teams!”

The team leaders, their initial panic subsiding, all blew their whistles. The shouts of “Assemble!” echoed one after another.

Thanks to the military training, starvation, and discipline by the rod in the refugee camps, the workers, though very frightened, reflexively stood behind their respective team leaders.

“Count off!” The team leaders began to count off and organize their ranks.

“All teams, retreat to the camp in order!” Hong Laojun commanded. The teams retreated to their respective camps according to the pre-arranged plan. Given the number of army and navy personnel stationed here, any force in the region attacking Kaohsiung would be courting disaster. So there was no need for the laborers to go into battle.

“What the hell is the navy doing! And they call Kaohsiung an absolute defense circle…”

Just then, a series of long and short steam whistle blasts came from the docks. Hong Laojun listened and recognized it as the “all clear” signal—the cannon fire had not been from a battle.

He breathed a sigh of relief and ordered work to resume.

However, he had no mind to stay on the construction site any longer. He called over a foreman, ordered him to supervise the work, and then rode his bicycle towards the docks with his bodyguard and maid.

At the docks, a crowd of porters had already gathered to watch the spectacle. A two-masted ship with its sails furled was slowly entering the port, towed by a small steam launch.

On the mizzenmast flew an Orange flag—the flag frequently flown by the Dutch East India Company in East Asia.

“The Dutch are here?” Hong Laojun found it strange. This wasn’t the first time a Dutch ship had come to Kaohsiung. Since the first month after D-Day in Kaohsiung, the Dutch had sent a ship here every month, always under the pretext of trade, exchanging some goods. Of course, anyone could see that this was the Dutch snooping around. But Wei Bachi didn’t care about this kind of behavior from the Dutch—the stronger the power displayed, the less likely the Dutch were to act rashly, which in turn saved energy on war preparations.

However, since Hong Laojun had been here, the Dutch had always sent small, single-masted boats of a few dozen tons. They had never sent a proper two-masted ship of over a hundred tons, let alone fired a salute upon entering the port.

“This can’t be an envoy delivering an ultimatum, can it?” Hong Laojun muttered, pedaling harder and riding towards the bastion by the docks with his entourage.

In the central tower of the bastion was the Naval Chief of Staff and Chief of Staff of the First Fleet, Li Di. According to the system, he, Ming Qiu, the captain of the Lichun, Li Ziping, the captain of the Dianche, Meng De, and the captain of the Yufeng, Le Lin, took turns going to sea to exercise command authority. This was to ensure that at least two Yuanlao officers were in the formation on each patrol voyage, two Yuanlao officers were in Kaohsiung, and one was available as a mobile reserve.

Li Di was looking at the Dutch ship entering the port with his telescope. He greeted Hong Laojun when he arrived.

“Why are the Dutch making such a big fuss this time? Even firing a proper salute.”

“It’s a guest—coming to ‘visit’ us,” Li Di said.

“A guest? A visit?” Hong Laojun asked, puzzled. “Is a diplomat coming?”

“Something like that,” Li Di nodded. “It’s said to be a ‘private visit’.”

Hong Laojun was a bit confused. He couldn’t figure out the ins and outs of this. If it was a “visit,” it was most likely a diplomat, but why call it a “private visit”? However, he was a man who believed in “silence is golden” and didn’t ask any more questions. Anyway, he had no interest in Dutch men, and in the 17th century, there would be no Dutch women as diplomats. This matter could be left to Wei Bachi to handle. He had heard Liu Zheng chatting idly in the guesthouse a few days ago, saying that Europeans at this time all stank…

Li Di, however, seemed very excited. Seeing the ship had already docked, he handed his telescope to the female orderly beside him, fastened the open buttons on his chest, smoothed his hair, and ran down with renewed vigor. Hong Laojun was completely bewildered but followed him down to see the fun.

When he reached the pier, he realized the formation was quite impressive. Besides Li Di, who had arrived a step ahead, there was also Mayor Wei Bachi and the head of the Ministry of Science and Technology, Dr. Zhong, who was on a business trip. Even Fang Jinghan, who had always looked down on the “white-skinned monkeys,” had come. All of them were neatly dressed, with their hair oiled and faces powdered, clearly having made some effort to groom themselves. Li Di, in particular, had his naval white sash tied so tightly that he probably couldn’t breathe. Dr. Zhong was even in a full suit and had formally put on a tie.

Doesn’t he find it hot? Hong Laojun wondered to himself.

The most formal part was the presence of a platoon of marines, all in neat uniforms, the bayonets on their rifles shining, and the Star-Fist Red Flag and the Morning Star Flag fluttering in the sea breeze. This scene was clearly set up to welcome some important person.

Hong Laojun was secretly surprised—because in all his years in Lingao, he had never seen such a grand welcome for a foreign guest. Even when the Dutch East India Company sent an envoy, it was simply a matter of sending a carriage to the docks to pick them up.

He was not interested in such pretentious occasions. Since Wei Bachi’s secretary had not informed him of any ceremonial duties today, he was happy to just watch the fun from the side.

Because of the pier, the people from the Dutch ship did not need to transfer to a small boat but came down directly from the gangway.

Only then did Hong Laojun realize why Li Di and the others were so enthusiastic—there was indeed a woman in a skirt among the arrivals!

The two men were both dressed in black tights and tight-fitting fencing doublets, with layers of white embroidered ruffs at the collar. Although the material looked like cotton and linen, it was hot enough just to look at them being so tightly wrapped up in this thirty-degree weather.

They wore wide-brimmed hats, but there was no long hair cascading down. Besides a sword symbolizing their status, they wore no other decorations—the necklaces, ribbons, and rosettes common on upper-class men of that era were all absent. The Dutch were both serious Protestants and frugal merchants, and their reputation for austerity and simple living was well-known in Europe at the time.

The two Dutch men looked to be in their forties or fifties, with serious expressions—a common expression among Protestants at the time. In contrast, the woman was dressed much more coolly. She wore a silk dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat exported from Lingao. Golden curls cascaded down from under her hat, making her look much more lively.

Behind the girl was a young boy. His clothes were not as formal as the adults’. Although he also wore a white ruff, his short jacket and trousers looked much lighter and looser. He wore no hat and was curiously looking at the panoramic view of the docks.

Wei Bachi went up to greet them with a beaming face, and Dr. Zhong quickly followed. The reason Dr. Zhong was also called was because he knew a little bit of technical German and could communicate with the Dutch. Originally, there was a naturalized citizen German translator recruited from Fujian in Kaohsiung, but this person could only translate between Dutch and Southern Fujian dialect and spoke terrible Mandarin. Therefore, they were a bit worried about him, so Dr. Zhong was asked to step in for this “major occasion.”

This visit had been proposed by the Dutch in Dayuan a week ago. An envoy from Fort Zeelandia had brought a message from Governor Hans Putmans, saying that two “honorable gentlemen” from the Netherlands wished to visit Kaohsiung. If Governor Wei would permit it, he would arrive with his entourage in a week.

Wei Bachi was not very interested in receiving the Dutch envoy. Although the two sides had not yet held formal consultations and signed an agreement on the trade status of Kaohsiung, they had already tacitly agreed to trade with each other. With the guarantee of both a trade agreement and cannons, the Dutch couldn’t pull any new tricks. Besides, if the other party wanted him to sign any formal agreement, he didn’t have the authority to do so.

Now that the other party had proposed a visit, Wei Bachi felt it was acceptable. Especially when the envoy mentioned that the visitor was a “diplomat of a prince,” named Constantijn Huygens, Dr. Zhong, who was acting as the translator, suddenly widened his eyes as if he had heard some beautiful music. Subsequently, Wei Bachi, urged by Dr. Zhong, agreed to this visit.

“Welcome, Mr. Constantijn Huygens,” Wei Bachi said, maintaining sufficient dignity. “And you, Mr. Frans van der Banckert.”

“Greetings to you and the Yuanlao Senate!” The two men simultaneously doffed their hats and bowed. When Constantijn Huygens looked up, he was startled to see a half-bald Yuanlao-looking person with a cloth strip hanging around his neck staring at him intently. But when he spoke, it was in quite good German—the most correct High German he had heard on his entire East Asian trip.

“And who are these two?” Wei Bachi had learned from the letter that the visitors would be bringing their families, including women. He had expected a sturdy German dragoon, but was surprised to see a petite blonde girl. His eyes lit up.

“This is my son, Westerly, and my daughter, Kretia,” Jan Frans van der Banckert introduced with a beaming face. “They are very curious about the customs and traditions of East Asia. Especially my son, Westerly, he aspires to be a naturalist.”