Chapter 14: The Phantom of the Lichun
Paul’s cunning eyes missed nothing. This is good, he thought. This is very good.
“So, when can I expect delivery of the goods I require?”
“That depends on how urgently you need them,” the Kirishitan said slyly.
“You truly are a devil driven by greed,” Zheng Zhifeng laughed. “I’ll add a fifty percent rush fee. By the Spanish calendar, I want the entire order by November first, including the ammunition.”
“Double it, and I can guarantee it will be delivered on time,” Paul said, his smile as persuasive as any merchant’s.
“Done,” Zheng Zhifeng nodded. “But I will only pay—just as I did today—when your goods have met my satisfaction.”
The Kirishitan gave a cold laugh. “My word, Paul’s word, is always good.” He raised a glass goblet that had been prepared beforehand by the fire pit. “A toast to our business.”
They drained their glasses. Zheng Zhifeng set his down. “You are very bold.”
“I never do business with fools,” Paul said. “Thank you for the drink—it’s quite good. Authentic rum.”
“It’s from the Australians,” Zheng Zhifeng said. “Although one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers, I don’t dislike them in the least. They are a capable and clever bunch.”
“Pardon my forwardness, but are you planning to attack Takau in November and go to war with the Australians?”
Zheng Zhifeng was silent for a moment. “You’re very eager to know?”
“Who you fight is of no concern to me. But as a small token of my gratitude for your patronage, allow me to offer a piece of advice: as long as that ship, the Lichun, exists, whatever you plan, you are doomed to fail.”
“Even with the cannons you provide?”
“Correct. Even armed with my cannons—as long as you fight in open waters, that ship can take any position it pleases. It doesn’t matter how many ships you have. Do you possess a single vessel that can sail at will against both wind and current?”
Zheng Zhifeng’s face paled. It was true. The Zheng family had been plotting an attack on Kaohsiung for a long time, but they had never found a good way to deal with that black behemoth. After much deliberation, the only feasible plan they could devise was a surprise attack, taking advantage of a moment when the Lichun was anchored in the harbor to blockade the entrance with a massive number of ships and then attack with fire ships.
“I imagine your plan involves swarming them with ships, blocking the harbor mouth, and then using fire. Just as you dealt with the Dutch in Zhangzhou Bay.”
“It seems you have a better method?” Zheng Zhifeng retorted.
“Well then, let’s discuss a new piece of business,” Mr. Paul began, launching into his pitch like a master salesman. “Do you know how many black ships the Australians have, the ones that belch black smoke and sail without wind?”
“There are four or five in Takau. Besides the Lichun, the others are smaller.”
“Well, frankly, the spies you sent should all be hanged. Let me tell you, besides the Lichun, there are at least eight others.”
Zheng Zhifeng’s hand trembled slightly. Nine black ships! The number was staggering. But he didn’t doubt the man’s word. The Kirishitan before him was a formidable and exceptionally capable individual. He had heard many rumors about him from the Spanish in Manila. Perhaps they were exaggerated, but Paul’s uncanny ability to gather and analyze intelligence was widely acknowledged.
If the Australians truly had nine black ships, even if they managed to burn the Lichun and the few others, the Australians could quickly retaliate.
And if they retaliated, the Zheng family’s fleet would be powerless to resist.
“Tell me about your business,” Zheng Zhifeng said, instantly realizing the man had something to sell.
“Very well. Suppose—and I’m just saying suppose—the Lichun became yours…”
Zheng Zhifeng said nothing, but the look of utter disbelief that flashed across his face showed he found the idea absurd.
But then, as he considered what it would mean to possess such a powerful warship, a look of greed crept into his eyes.
“…If the Lichun were yours, with its size and firepower, it could at least counter the smaller black ships that survived. That would give you a fighting chance, wouldn’t it?”
Zheng Zhifeng shook his head. “It’s said the Australians have mastered the art of water and fire, which is how these black ships move so freely on the sea. But that is their secret. Even if we captured it, we wouldn’t be able to use it. We’d still have to rely on sails. What would be the point?”
“A great deal of point. First, the Australians would lose the mainstay of their navy. Second, even under sail, how many ships on the sea could match its size and firepower?”
Zheng Zhifeng was noncommittal, but he seemed moved.
“Third, your concerns about the art of water and fire are unnecessary,” Paul said, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
“You understand this magic?!” he asked, surprised.
The cunning Kirishitan evaded the question. “They are not the only ones who can command the art of water and fire.”
“If you have a way to capture it, and can teach us how to use it, I am very willing to discuss this business with you.”
“Good. Then let’s talk terms.” The Kirishitan began to lay out his demands and conditions. Clearly, some of them were beyond Zheng Zhifeng’s authority to grant. Finally, he said:
“There are some conditions I cannot decide on. My elder brother must make the final decision.”
“Of course, of course. Your brother is the BOSS,” the Kirishitan said with a smile, using a word Zheng Zhifeng didn’t understand. “I trust that a man of his vision will see that my terms are very reasonable. And, of course, the conditions you previously agreed to must also be honored.”
“The Zheng family’s word is as good as gold.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” Paul said, rising to his feet. “Please inform me as soon as you have news. You know how to contact me. May God bless you.”
The meeting ended quickly. The men departed, leaving no trace behind, only an empty, lifeless native village.
Li Huamei stood on the deck, looking at Takau—Kaohsiung. The port was a hive of activity. Ships from Lingao, Hong Kong, and Jeju Island crowded the harbor, unloading and loading countless goods and people. She didn’t know or understand what the Australians were doing, but she found her first voyage as a “Reserve Navy Ensign” deeply unsettling.
The voyage had been in formation, with all ships following the flagship.
The captains were required to obey the flagship’s signals at all times. To this end, a signalman from the Navy had been assigned to her ship.
The sight of the fleet at sea, twenty sailing ships of various sizes with their sails full, was breathtaking—truly a magnificent spectacle.
The journey was uneventful, and they arrived safely in Kaohsiung. However, she and her crew had not yet been granted permission to go ashore. Everyone was to remain on their ships and await orders.
From the Hangzhou, she could see the ships in the harbor. Kaohsiung’s port was limited in size and depth. Some of the larger vessels had to anchor in the roadstead offshore. From her deck, she had a clear view of the Lichun, the legendary black behemoth.
If that warship were under my command, I could die happy, Li Huamei sighed. The thought of her first mission—to gather detailed intelligence on the Lichun—filled her with discouragement. At this rate, how long will it take to gain the Australians’ trust? No sooner had she arrived in Lingao than she was sent off to Taiwan. Her work as a spy and her search for her sister both seemed impossibly distant. She didn’t even know when she would return to Lingao. At this thought, her mind drifted to Elder Qi, to his gentle fingers and his goofy smile…
A blush crept up her face, and she involuntarily touched her cheek.
As she was lost in her reverie, a sailor called out:
“Captain! An orderly from the docks is here.”
The orderly delivered a written order from Ming Qiu: all crew members were to disembark immediately to undergo “purification.”
Because the Hangzhou had not undergone a systematic refit in Lingao, and still had many of Li Huamei’s European recruits aboard, they had to make up for it in Kaohsiung. The entire crew was sent to the quarantine camp. The Hangzhou itself was to undergo a necessary “overhaul.”
Li Huamei was spared the full “purification,” but a physical examination at the clinic and a bath in the naval base’s women’s bathhouse were unavoidable. She didn’t mind bathing, but being watched by another woman as she did so felt like a great humiliation.
Humiliated or not, she had to endure it. Li Huamei saw it as a test from the Australians. After the bath, her long hair, which had once fallen to her waist, was cut to shoulder length.
“You look much sharper this way,” said the female soldier who brought her new uniform.
“Do I?” Li Huamei looked uncertainly at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was wearing a brand-new, blue, Type 32 naval officer’s uniform made of a cotton-linen blend. Compared to the ill-fitting naturalized citizen’s uniform she had procured for herself, this one was crisp and tailored, giving her a tall, slender, and upright appearance. As a uniform for female officers, it came with a detachable long skirt. It was accessorized with a white naval belt and a handsome naval dagger. Of course, she was also permitted to carry her personal weapon.
The only thing she found superfluous was the round, soft, brimless cap. It offered no protection from the sun, nor did it keep out dust and seawater like a headscarf. It was just another one of the Australians’ countless quirks, she supposed.
She curiously looked at and touched the various trinkets on the uniform: the collar tabs, the soft shoulder boards, the arm patches, the insignia of the Southeast Asia Company… She knew the pattern and stripes on her shoulder boards indicated her rank in the Australian military: Reserve Ensign—equivalent to a Bazong in the Ming hierarchy, perhaps.
“You’re a Reserve Ensign now. In half a year, you might be a Lieutenant. There are many missions these days, so promotions come easily,” the female soldier said, tidying her uniform and snipping off a loose thread.
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself. I have a maid. Just have Li Ying do it,” Li Huamei said casually.
“You mean that black devil? She’ll be in the quarantine camp for a month,” the soldier said. “I am your orderly.”