Chapter 1: Intelligence

In Kaohsiung in September, the summer heat had already faded, and the sea breeze brought a hint of coolness.

The Lichun was quietly moored in Kaohsiung Harbor. This sail-steam hybrid cruiser, the “pride of the Senate Navy,” had just returned to its homeport of Kaohsiung from the docks at Bopu. The entire warship was brand new, and even the sailors looked particularly spirited.

After nearly a year of cruising, the Lichun had undergone comprehensive maintenance and overhaul at the Bopu Shipyard throughout the summer. Some parts that had shown problems were replaced—the products of the machinery factory were getting better with each batch as the skills of the naturalized workers improved, and now they could replace the crude early products with better parts.

The Lichun’s firepower had not been significantly adjusted, but a newly designed 5-barreled Hotchkiss-type manually operated revolving cannon had been experimentally installed. It was called the “Type 34 Naval Automatic Cannon.”

The purpose of the weapon design team was to use it to replace some of the typewriters on naval ships: after all, a 30mm grenade was much more efficient at destroying small boats than a 13mm lead bullet. The larger projectile could also accommodate a variety of different ammunition—three types of ammunition were planned: high-explosive, armor-piercing, and incendiary. However, for the time being, only armor-piercing rounds were equipped.

The 5-barreled Hotchkiss-type manually operated revolving cannon was an automatic cannon, similar to the Gatling gun, but its structure was much simpler than the Gatling’s multi-barreled gun, so it was chosen as the navy’s rapid-fire cannon.

The original Hotchkiss-type manually operated revolving cannon used the 37x94R cartridge, which was a deformed product of the St. Petersburg Declaration’s regulation that the weight of an explosive warhead should not be less than 400 grams. Since the warhead could only be filled with 15-20 grams of black powder, its explosion was just a large firecracker. The warhead, which weighed more than half a kilogram, had a pitiful muzzle velocity of only 367 m/s, and its ballistic performance was a mess.

Considering that the target of the navy’s small rapid-fire cannons was the enemy’s small boats and sailors on the deck of enemy ships, a large explosive power was not needed. A 30mm caliber was sufficient. Reducing the caliber could reduce the weight of the cannon, which not only allowed for more installations on large ships, but also adapted to the needs of sampan cannons, marine support artillery, and other aspects. In order to improve the ballistic performance, the barrel length was changed to 25 calibers, and the length of the shell was also lengthened. After such improvements, the Lingao version of the 5-barreled Hotchkiss-type manually operated revolving cannon had a higher muzzle velocity and better ballistic performance than the original version. The theoretical rate of fire could reach one hundred rounds per minute.

However, to use this type of cannon, fixed ammunition had to be used. Since the drawing of brass cartridge cases had not yet been put on the Planning Institute’s development agenda, a simpler process of rolled cartridge cases was used—although not very reliable, it was not difficult to use. In order to recycle the cartridge cases, a special cartridge case recycler was also equipped.

This was not the first time the Lichun had come to Kaohsiung, but its reappearance made all the forces that were closely watching the movements of the Australians in Kaohsiung suddenly tense.

This “giant ship” that spewed black smoke and hung sails was not the “holy ship” in Lingao that never moved—many people believed that the holy ship would not move at all—the Lichun often cruised on the sea, and the black smoke it emitted could be seen clearly from more than ten miles away.

The most terrifying thing was that even if you saw its black smoke from more than ten miles away, it would not take long for it to catch up with you, and you would watch its dark and huge hull roll through the white waves and pass by majestically. On the deck stood black and thick cannons—this was enough to make those who were dissatisfied with the Australians lose their souls.

Its sudden reappearance in the Taiwan Strait caused the undercurrents in the strait to surge once again.

Li Siya once again received a letter from Zheng Zhifeng. This time, Zheng Zhifeng made a new request.

Since Lin Shimao’s mysterious disappearance, Zheng Zhifeng already knew that Li Siya’s seemingly foolproof plan had been exposed—of course, besides the Australians kidnapping him, Li Siya might also have made him “disappear” for the purpose of silencing him, but the Dutch’s lack of reaction in Dayuan and other places showed that their plan to sow discord had not succeeded. Through Guo Huaiyi’s activities, Zheng Zhifeng had a general understanding of what had happened in Kaohsiung, including the entire process of the operation and the Australians’ response.

It was strange, Zheng Zhifeng thought. From any angle, Li Siya’s plan was executed flawlessly. In his opinion, every link in Li Siya’s arrangement could easily cut off the clues. In particular, the decisive suicide of the woman she sent when she was arrested could be said to have cut off the last clue. It could be called the most brilliant headless case—why could the Australians catch Lin Shimao as if they had foreseen it?

Could it be that the Australians had a spy by Li Siya’s side or in the Zheng family? Or did they really have 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, he said that he was preparing to sneak into Lingao to gather more information about the Australians.

But all this was no longer important to Zheng Zhifeng. Since the Australians had already captured Lin Shimao, they naturally understood that the mastermind behind the scenes was the Zheng family—the day when the two families would draw their daggers was just around the corner.

The trade between the two families had not stopped even in the summer—the ships of the Daybreak Shipping Company, flying the Venus flag, continuously transported the most urgently needed and most profitable goods to Fujian: salt. At the same time, the various goods they transported away made the Zheng family a lot of money. But the Zheng brothers all knew very well that this was just superficial harmony—the Australians had important things to do at the moment and were temporarily unwilling to go to war with them.

Once their business was done, the Australians would show their claws without hesitation—was there any benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, or faith on the East Asian seas? Not to mention that the Australians and them were just business partners. Thinking back not many years ago, Li Kuiqi and Zheng Zhilong were still “brothers.”

So far, the fifth year of Chongzhen had been a year of great development and smooth sailing for the Zheng family. In March, Xiong Wencan, who was originally in charge of the pacification, was promoted to the governor-general of Guangdong and Guangxi—this was a pity for the Zheng family: Xiong Wencan was a man who had been stuffed with money by Zheng Zhilong. However, Zou Weilian was not a difficult person to get along with either. Zou Weilian had served as the magistrate of Yanping during the Wanli era, so he had some understanding of the local customs, the situation of the barbarians, and the coastal defense.

When Zou Weilian arrived in Fujian, Zheng Zhilong had just wiped out the remnants of Chen Wan and Zhong Lingxiu, who had previously run rampant on land and sea in the Fujian area. For this service, he was promoted to the rank of general. In May, the remnants of Zhong Lingxiu’s party again caused trouble with their warships in Haicheng, Taihe, and other places, and Zheng Zhilong defeated them again. This made Zou Weilian rely heavily on Zheng Zhilong.

Originally, Zou Weilian was already preparing to transfer Zheng Zhilong’s troops to Jiangxi to suppress the bandits, but not long ago, Liu Xianglao attacked Min’an Town with a fleet of 170 ships, burning, plundering, and killing, with the intention of directly attacking the provincial capital. Zou Weilian did not dare to hesitate and immediately kept Zheng Zhilong, who had not yet departed, to deal with Liu Xiang. At this moment, he was dispatching troops and generals, preparing to defeat Liu Xiang’s invading forces in one fell swoop.

Although Liu Xiang’s direct attack on Min’an was a direct challenge to Zheng Zhilong’s maritime hegemony, in Zheng Zhilong’s eyes, Liu Xiang was no longer his primary opponent.

Originally, the Zheng family only regarded the Australians as a larger group among the “pirates” on the Guangdong sea, who had suddenly risen to prominence through some strange skills and tricks like large iron ships, and they did not interfere with overseas trade at all. But since their ships had invaded Guangzhou and burned the Wuyang Posthouse, the Zheng family’s view of them had changed dramatically.

Now, although Liu Laoxiang was still cruising around Shantou and Shanwei, harassing the coast of Fujian, and constantly sending ships to Batavia and Manila, obviously to compete with the Zheng family for the trade with the West, very serious news came from Japan: the Australian special envoy was active in the Goto Islands and had even hooked up with the Zhou family, who had received the shogunate’s vermilion seal certificate! Not only that, they had even penetrated into Hirado.

Hirado was like a second hometown to Zheng Zhilong, and it was also where he had started his career.

It was obvious what the Australians wanted to do by going to Japan.

It was simply stirring up trouble on the tiger’s head!

This matter was not just a matter of face, but a matter of life and death. In comparison, although Liu Laoxiang’s various actions would affect the Zheng family’s income, they were not fatal. If the Australians were to seize the Japan trade route, the Zheng family’s roots would be completely dug out.

For this reason, Zheng Zhilong had already changed his primary enemy to the Australians.

Although Li Siya was no longer trusted, she was, after all, the person who knew the most about the Australians and had dealt with them directly, so the crucial intelligence gathering work still fell on her shoulders: the first and foremost was to find out how many men and ships the Australians had.

The first item in this letter was to ask her to provide detailed intelligence on the Australians’ largest warship—the Lichun.

It was not surprising to Li Siya that Zheng Zhilong wanted to open fire on the Australians: it was only a matter of time. But it was a bit difficult for her to obtain the naval strength of the Lichun and the Australians.

True, she had indeed pieced together a general picture of the Australian navy’s strength based on many scattered pieces of intelligence, and she could also describe the appearance and some performance of the iron clippers, but it was all second-hand information—even Li Huamei had never been on any of the “black smoke-spewing” Australian ships.

However, she was very sure that Zheng Zhilong was by no means a match for the Australians. From this point of view, she also had to do her best to help Zheng Zhilong regain some of his decline, so as to prevent the sea from becoming the world of the Australians—at that time, there would be nothing for her to do.

This matter could only be entrusted to her foster sister—only Li Huamei, who was about to join the Australian group, could possibly know the real secrets of these ships.

It was now early September, and her foster sister’s Hangzhou should have returned to Macau at the end of August under normal circumstances—now was the time.