The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

On the seventeenth day of the first month of the first year of the Weiyao era, in the morning.

Before the sea fog over Luermen had dissipated, a delegation of three Dutch envoys, led by a standard-bearer carrying a military flag, walked heavily into Luermen towards the new military camp that had sprung up overnight.

They were sent by the governor of Zeelandia, Coyett, to ascertain the situation and attempt to negotiate with this unexpected army.

When they had just reached a distance of about seven or eight miles from the outskirts of Luermen, they were intercepted by the scouts of that army scattered outside.

They are now heading towards Luermen under the watchful eyes of more than ten fully armed cavalrymen.

The head of the mission, Van der Burgh, was a seasoned East India Company trade representative, but at this moment he had no interest in thinking about the trade terms.

Once inside the Luermen area, his gaze was firmly fixed on everything he saw along the way.

Along the coastline, thousands of Da Chen soldiers are building fortifications with astonishing efficiency.

Further away, the newly landed troops were advancing in tight square formations. The muskets on the soldiers' shoulders gleamed with a cold metallic luster in the morning light. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, like the precise parts of a clock.

"Oh, God……"

The deputy envoy gasped in a low voice.

"Did you see the muskets on their shoulders? Their muskets are even equipped with bayonets."

“I have never seen so many muskets in any Eastern army… no, in any army in the world.”

During this period, the European battlefield was in the midst of the Thirty Years' War, and firearms began to be widely deployed in the army.

However, they were still equipped with the technically mature matchlock musket. Due to the issue of rate of fire, even in the kingdom's regular army, there were still a large number of spearmen.

As for muskets with bayonets, only small, elite units were equipped with them.

Now, all they've seen along their journey are muskets equipped with bayonets.

Moreover, they also noticed that the soldiers in this army were all equipped with flintlock muskets.

This is not difficult to identify, since all matchlock guns have long match strings.

The muskets in the hands of these soldiers had no match strings at all; they were undoubtedly flintlock muskets.

Van der Berger tried to remain calm, but his clenched fists betrayed his unease.

He had never seen such a disciplined army in the East. Every soldier seemed to be pulled by the same string, and their movements were so precise that it was breathtaking.

The atmosphere suddenly became even more somber as they were led to the central command tent.

Two rows of armed guards stood outside the tent like bronze statues, their sharp gazes piercing Van der Berger, making him instinctively avoid their intimidating stares.

Vanderberg has seen that look before.

He had seen that look before, in the depths of the eyes of many ruthless pirates in the tavern.

However, the imposing presence of those pirates was in no way comparable to his.

They were not summoned immediately, but were instead made to stand outside the camp.

His repeated requests to see the guards were all rejected by their cold, indifferent gazes.

No one paid them any attention, and no one answered them.

They were not allowed to leave their place, or even sit down.

Taiwan in January is not cold and the sunshine is quite abundant, but standing outside like that is actually a difficult thing to endure.

For Vanderberg, who has always lived a life of luxury, this is undoubtedly a form of torture.

When he crossed the ocean to come to the East, he was once a strong man.

But after he rose to a high position and became a business representative, he had not stood for such a long time for a long time.

His assets are enough to allow him to live a comfortable life anywhere.

On this land in the Far East, ordinary soldiers and pirates may have had a very difficult time.

But for him, the Far East, where he was, was just as comfortable as his estate in the Netherlands.

However, his servants were no longer European, but slaves bought from various places.

The sun gradually rises higher, slowly ascending from the east until it is high in the sky.

Van der Burgh stood there, holding the company flag. After standing for so long, under such intense mental tension, he began to feel dizzy and even unsteady on his feet.

Van der Burgh swayed precariously, clenching his teeth and desperately trying to stay upright so that he wouldn't collapse.

"Damn Kui-yi."

Van der Berg cursed under his breath.

"This trembling fool hiding in his castle made me suffer such humiliation..."

Van der Berg's curses did not elicit any response.

Kuiyi was unaware of this, and the soldiers guarding the central command tent merely cast disdainful glances at him.

Van der Berg felt a burning pain on his face. He could feel the contempt directed at him from all around him, a humiliation he had not experienced in many years.

After an unknown amount of time, Vanderberg began to feel dizzy.

The curtain of the magnificent central command tent was suddenly lifted.

A soldier in full armor stepped forward, followed by a dark-skinned man in a red tunic.

The armored soldier walked all the way up to Vanderberger.

Van der Berg was startled and instinctively looked up.

In this era, Europeans were generally not very tall, while Chinese people were actually taller, even those of the nobility like Vanderberg.

The personal guards who followed Cao Dingjiao were almost all his household servants who had come all the way from Liaodong.

Most of them are over 1.7 meters tall, and many are even over 1.8 meters tall.

Van der Berger had to look up to see the person's face clearly.

The soldier's gaze was icy, and he gave a cold command.

"The Earl of Penghu of the Great Chen Empire grants you an audience."

Van der Berger looked slightly flustered. Although he knew some Chinese, he still didn't quite understand some of the obscure and difficult-to-understand language.

He looked at the deputy envoy, who was fairly fluent in Chinese, with an inquiring gaze.

The deputy envoy received a glance from van der Berg and was about to translate.

However, the dark-skinned man who had been following the armored soldier earlier was now speaking fluent Dutch.

Van der Berg was slightly taken aback, then quickly replied.

However, just as he was about to say something more, the two finished reading the order and had already walked into the central command tent.

Van der Berg's expression stiffened. He ultimately said nothing more, but stepped forward and followed the two men into the military tent ahead.

Van der Berg's legs were stiff from standing for so long that he almost fell to the ground when he took a step.

This drew sneers from the soldiers standing outside the tent. Van der Berger lowered his head, his face burning red.

The two deputy envoys following Van der Berg felt the same humiliation. They hung their heads, remained silent, and simply followed Van der Berg forward.

Van der Berg cursed Coyett under his breath, his anger burning but he dared not show it.

He knew that the reason these people had made him stand outside the military camp for so long was clearly to embarrass them.

They did achieve their goal, but circumstances forced them to endure the humiliation.

After waiting for an entire morning, Van der Burgh finally entered the central command tent and met the supreme commander of the army that had suddenly landed.

As soon as Van der Berger entered the central command tent, he saw Cao Dingjiao sitting in the main seat.

Van der Berg was slightly startled; he had already heard the translation. This general from the Eastern Empire was a true nobleman, a highly respected count in the empire.

His title of count was not the worthless count title found in many small European countries, but rather that of a count in an Eastern empire far larger than the entire European continent.

The army he saw on the shore, thousands of fully armed elite soldiers, were all under the command of this count.

This undoubtedly means that this count's power is more illustrious than any duke in Europe, and even more powerful than many kings.

Compared to Van der Berg's cautiousness.

Cao Dingjiao simply leaned back casually in the grand chair, wearing an iron crown and a crimson robe with a qilin design, looking down at Vanderberg and his entourage who walked in from outside the tent.

Van der Burgh took a deep breath, and following the custom of European envoys, placed his right hand on his chest and bowed slightly.

"Your Excellency Earl, on behalf of Mr. Coyett, Governor-General of the East India Company of the United Netherlands, I extend my greetings to you..."

Van der Berger did not finish his sentence.

A cold shout interrupted what he was about to say.

"Kneel down."

Van der Berg's expression froze.

This was said in Dutch, by the translator who had just accompanied the army.

Van der Berger managed to maintain a forced smile.

His legs were trembling, and he wanted to kneel down.

However, once they kneel down, they will likely find themselves in an even more precarious position during subsequent negotiations.

"Your Excellency, according to diplomatic protocol..."

Van der Berg was interrupted again before he could finish speaking.

"This is not the Netherlands."

"This is not Europe either."

The dark-skinned translator snorted and sneered.

"This is what you call Asia, this is what you call the East."

"In the East, the only etiquette you need to follow is entirely set by China."

The translator's gaze was arrogant.

The voice grew increasingly harsh, and a choice was given.

"of course."

“You will always have a choice, and our emperor will always give you a choice.”

"Submit, or...destruction."

"You have three seconds to decide your choice."

"Please remember, this is the benevolence of the Emperor of the Great Chen Empire."

Van der Burgh offered no further resistance and knelt down without hesitation.

This choice is not difficult.

“Your Excellency Earl, we have certainly not offended you, much less the majesty of the Great Chen Empire…”

Van der Berger said the word, which he was hearing for the first time and which was a bit difficult to pronounce.

Da Chen—this was the first time he had ever heard this word.

"Please forgive my ignorance, but I swear on my honor that I have never heard of this prestigious name."

He carefully chose his words, fearing that a single inappropriate choice would bring about his demise.

As a representative of the Dutch East India Company, he was naturally knowledgeable about Eastern affairs.

He knew of the Eastern Empire, which had been called "Great Ming" in this land for hundreds of years.

"The Ming Dynasty is now history. Our emperor has quelled the internal rebellion, defeated the Tatars in the north, and has now established a new dynasty on the original land. The name of the new dynasty is 'Da Chen'."

"You can remember this name."

"Because, before long, this name will spread throughout the world with the sea breeze and sails."

The translator looked proud.

Because of his proficiency in foreign languages, he held a high position as a merchant representative in Zheng's fleet.

However, that only applies to Zheng's fleet.

Now, however, he is the eighth-rank official in charge of the Dutch Pavilion at the Great Chen Empire's Four Barbarian Pavilion.

To rise from a commoner to an eighth-rank official is undoubtedly a glorious achievement for one's family.

His back stopped moving, and his words were unadorned and utterly straightforward.

With a powerful nation at his back and a formidable fleet and tens of thousands of fully armed soldiers on the high seas, he no longer harbored the caution he once had.

Although the Zheng family fleet was also a dominant force in the Far East, Zheng Zhilong always prioritized profit and required them to exercise restraint in their overseas negotiations and avoid conflicts as much as possible.

This was the first time he had ever been so proud, or rather, arrogant.

He could feel this pride in all the generals and soldiers of the Great Chen Empire.

Both the navy and the army of the Great Chen Empire possess this kind of pride.

It's not that they underestimated their enemy, nor that they were unaware of the enemy's strength.

But in their hearts, they held an invincible belief.

The enemy may be very strong, and we may encounter setbacks temporarily.

However, they all firmly believed in one thing.

No one, no force, no country can stop their advance!
Cao Dingjiao paid no attention to the interpreter's proud expression, because he had already given instructions to say these things.

“I know that your governor sent you here to investigate and negotiate.”

“I am not a businessman, I am a military officer. I am not good at negotiation. I came here by imperial decree, not to negotiate.”

"Taiwan has been part of China's territory since ancient times."

"You took advantage of the turmoil in the Central Plains, beset by internal and external troubles, to seize the island for forty years, oppressing our people and blaspheming our gods."

Cao Dingjiao slowly began to speak, and the interpreter standing beside him translated his words into Dutch.

With each sentence translated, Vanderberg's face grew paler.

With each word he heard, Vanderberg's eyes grew even more fearful.

"Our Emperor has ascended the throne and reigns supreme over the world. We have come here on the orders of the Empire and by the Emperor to recover Taiwan."

Cao Dingjiao slowly rose to his feet, looking down at Van der Berg, who was kneeling below him, and said in a cold voice.

"Within three days."

Cao Dingjiao held up three fingers.

"If you surrender, withdraw from Taiwan, and return to your homeland, you can still save your lives and your families."

"But if you insist on resisting stubbornly, defying the will of Heaven, and attempting to stop the chariot with your bare hands, you will be doomed in no time!"

"Don't say you weren't warned." (End of Chapter)