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Zheng Zhilong stood on the top floor of the castle tower and pushed open the broken paper door. The sea breeze, carrying the smell of burning and blood, blew away the remaining incense in the room.

Two bodyguards were wiping the blood on the floor with linen. The dark red color had seeped deep into the cracks in the wood grain, and no matter how they wiped, it turned black.

"Report——!"

A messenger ran up the stairs quickly and knelt on one knee outside the door: "The port has been cleared. A total of 472 bodies of Japanese pirates have been collected. Our soldiers have 26 killed and 234 injured."

"Where are the wounded placed?"

Zheng Zhilong didn't look back, but kept his fingers on the window frame.

"Reporting to the Admiral, we are temporarily staying in the Honmaru Palace. The military doctor is treating the wound with golden medicine."

"not enough."

Zheng Zhilong turned around, his boots stepping over the wet bloodstains: "Requisition the houses of the townspeople to disperse and house the lightly injured. For the seriously injured... rinse the wounds with shochu and apply medicine."

"The pension will be paid at three times the amount."

After a pause, Zheng Zhilong continued: "The ashes of the fallen soldiers will be sent back to Fuzhou by Fuzhou ship."

The messenger lowered his head and wrote it down, then added:

"In addition, we found 20 barrels of gunpowder and 300 kilograms of lead bullets left by the Dutch in the warehouse."

"Seal them all up and assign someone to guard them."

Zheng Zhilong suddenly narrowed his eyes and asked, "Where are the people from the Dutch trading house?"

"He took advantage of the chaos last night and escaped on a speedboat. According to the lookout, he is heading towards Nagasaki."

Zheng Zhilong sneered, took out a booklet from his bosom and threw it to his guards: "According to this list, arrest all the merchants in the city who are in collusion with the Songpu Party."

…………

At dawn the next day, Zheng Zhilong went to the port to inspect. After the tide receded, more than a dozen bloated bodies were exposed on the beach. They were all Japanese pirates who tried to swim to escape. The sailors were pushing the bodies into the sea with long poles and letting the waves carry them away.

"Admiral, the Fu Ship's guns have been reloaded."

Admiral Chen Ze clasped his fists and reported: "But the barrels of three red cannons are overheated and need to be cooled for a day before they can be used again."

Zheng Zhilong nodded and looked at the ships moored in the harbor. The Ming warships occupied the east dock, while the west dock was occupied by the captured Japanese pirates' Antaku ships - the ships were long and narrow, with only two old Portuguese cannons on the deck.

"Tear down these Japanese ships." He pointed at the Ataka ships. "Use the wood to repair our rudders and oars, and melt the iron nails to recast them."

"The captured Japanese pirate sailors?"

"Those who can sail will stay, and the rest will be used as laborers."

Zheng Zhilong stepped onto the pier, his boots stained with sticky blood and mud: "Within three days, I want all the warships to recover their combat effectiveness."

"Admiral, be careful!" The guard suddenly stepped forward and stood in front of Zheng Zhilong.

Several Japanese pirate corpses were floating by the pier, pushed by the tide and hitting the wooden stakes. The hand of one of the corpses suddenly twitched.

Zheng Zhilong pulled out the pistol from his waist. His movements were so fast that people could not see clearly. When he pulled the trigger, his wrist was so steady that there was not a single tremor.

"boom!"

The lead bullet penetrated the head of the corpse in the water, splashing a dark red water.

"He's not dead yet, finish him off." Zheng Zhilong put away his pistol and said in a cold and hard voice.

"Yes!"

Watching his personal guards leading a group of soldiers running towards the small boat, Zheng Zhilong waved his hand and led the rest of the soldiers onto a Fu ship.

Shipbuilder Zhang Laowu knelt on the deck of the Fu ship, stroking a cracked plank with his rough fingers. The gaps between his nails were filled with sawdust and his knuckles were deformed from years of swinging the hammer.

"Can it be repaired?" Zheng Zhilong asked, standing behind him.

Zhang Laowu did not answer immediately. He took out his pipe and put it in his mouth, but he was reluctant to light it. After a while, he said, "We need to replace three planks and apply tung oil again."

Zheng Zhilong asked: "How long will it take?"

"Two days."

Zhang Laowu blew out his pipe and said, "But I need twenty strong men."

Zheng Zhilong turned to his guards and said, "Go to the prisoner camp and pick some strong men."

The guard hesitated and asked, "Will the Japanese pirates work honestly?"

Zheng Zhilong's mouth curled up into an icy arc: "Tell them that they will be rewarded with a full meal after finishing their work. Those who dare to play tricks - throw them into the sea to feed the fish."

…………

The midday sun shines through the Japanese paper sliding doors, casting mottled shadows on the floor of the evaluation room.

The house was filled with a pungent smell mixed with the smell of sea and blood.

Twelve Japanese merchants were trembling, kneeling on the tatami in the "dogeza" posture, their foreheads pressed against the straw mat, and their clothes on their backs were soaked with cold sweat.

Zheng Zhilong sat on the folding stool at the main seat, his left hand on the scabbard, his right index finger tapping rhythmically on his knee. He deliberately kept silent, letting the silence last for a full half a quarter of an hour. Morita Uemon, the teahouse owner kneeling in the front row, could clearly hear the beating of his temple.

"Keep your head up!"

When Zheng Zhilong suddenly said "raise your head" in fluent Japanese, Morita's shoulder blades trembled violently, and he slowly straightened his hunched back, but still kept his head down, and his eyes only dared to stay on the blood-stained Japanese sword at Zheng Zhilong's waist.

He could see dark red blood stains in the gaps of the "round cross" pattern on the scabbard.

"How many bases does the Matsuura Party still have in Kyushu?"

Zheng Zhilong's voice was not loud, but it made Morita swallow his saliva subconsciously, and the sound of his Adam's apple rolling was particularly clear in the quiet room. The cold sweat on his forehead slid across his brow bone, stinging his eyes.

"Go back, sir..."

Morita's tongue seemed to be tied, and he had to stop and take a deep breath: "Karatsu and Imari in Hizen Domain... are still guarded by the Matsuura clan... but, the number of troops is less than a thousand..."

Zheng Zhilong suddenly leaned forward, and the joints of the armor made a creaking sound. Morita could feel a sharp gaze piercing his head.

"What about Nagasaki?"

This question made the hair on the back of Morita's neck stand up. He secretly glanced at the rice merchant Sato on the left, who was shaking his head almost imperceptibly. This subtle movement did not escape Zheng Zhilong's eyes.

"Nagasaki is... directly under the jurisdiction of the shogunate..."

Morita's voice began to tremble, and a drop of sweat fell from the tip of his nose: "The garrison commander Ogasawara Tadamasa was just transferred last month... He has only 500 foot soldiers under his command..."

Zheng Zhilong's right hand suddenly turned into a residual shadow. Morita felt a flash of cold light in front of his eyes, and then heard a muffled sound of "snatching". A short knife was accurately nailed into the gap between his right index finger and middle finger, and the tip of the knife was three inches deep. Morita's pupils suddenly contracted, and the blood in his body seemed to solidify instantly.

The handle of the knife was still trembling slightly, making a lingering buzzing sound. Zheng Zhilong maintained his throwing posture, and the knuckles of his iron gloves glowed coldly.

"If there is a lie——"

Zheng Zhilong slowly stood up, and every step his iron boots took on the tatami made the merchants tremble. Morita's right hand froze in mid-air, and his knuckles turned white due to excessive tension. "Next time the nail will pierce the palm!"

Zheng Zhilong's voice made everyone present shudder. He suddenly increased his strength, and the tip of the knife sunk another half inch into the wooden board: "I heard that the Japanese tea ceremony emphasizes 'once in a lifetime'... What do you think? Mr. Morita?"

Morita's lips trembled violently, and he suddenly fell to the ground and kowtowed: "Your Excellency, please understand! Ogasawara does have only 500 foot soldiers, but... but Nagasaki Bugyosho also has 200 iron cannon foot soldiers!"

He knocked his forehead heavily on the tatami and said in a trembling voice:

"The remnants of the Matsuura Party are hiding on Iki Island. There are...thirty ships!"

Zheng Zhilong narrowed his eyes, drew his short knife, turned and walked towards the rice merchant Sato who was kneeling in the second row, and gently lifted his chin with the tip of the knife. A drop of blood slid down Sato's trembling chin.

"What about you? Anything to add?"

Sato's pupils shook violently, and his eyes moved between Morita and the short sword. Zheng Zhilong suddenly turned his wrist and slapped Sato's cheek with the back of the sword, making a crisp sound.

"If you don't tell me, you will die!"

"Shimazu family!"

Sato shouted in despair: "The Shimazu family's fleet arrived at the Goto Islands three days ago! There are... there are fifty Yasukuni ships!"

"Hmph! Record their confessions separately."

Zheng Zhilong stood up, wiped the dagger on Sato's shoulder, sat back in the main seat, and said to the clerk beside him: "If there is any contradiction..."

He glanced at the trembling businessmen and said, "Cut off the tongue of the liar and feed it to the fish."

"As ordered!"

The clerk's brush made a rustling sound on the paper. Zheng Zhilong took the tea bowl from his personal guard, and when he opened the lid of the bowl, the steam rose up, blurring his cold face. After taking a sip, he suddenly put the tea bowl heavily on the table, and the crisp sound of porcelain colliding made the merchants tremble again.

"Tomorrow at noon, I want to see the account books of all the merchants in Hirado Town."

Zheng Zhilong tapped his fingers on the scabbard. "Especially... the records of trade with the Dutch."

…………

The sound of the clappers at midnight echoed outside the castle tower of Hirado Castle, and the candlelight in front of Zheng Zhilong flickered with the sea breeze.

Twelve tallow candles dripped thick wax tears on the bronze candlesticks, illuminating the nautical chart on the nanmu table. This map of the Kyushu coast drawn by Portuguese missionaries was densely marked with tides, reefs, and routes commonly used by Japanese pirates.

The commander of the imperial guards, Zhao Wu, came in with a lacquered wooden table. The bowl of wheat rice on the table had already gone cold, with a thin layer of rice oil on the surface. Zheng Zhilong grabbed it without raising his head, and swallowed half a bowl in three or two mouthfuls. The rice grains stuck to his short beard. He knocked the edge of the sea chart with the end of his chopsticks, making a dull "tap-tap" sound.

"Call Chen Ze."

A moment later, Chen Ze walked in quickly. The veteran general born in Quanzhou was still wearing his armor, and there was a fresh knife mark on his breastplate - it was left during the daytime street fighting. He knelt on one knee three steps away, and the iron armor leaves collided with each other, making a crisp "clattering" sound.

"I am here to see you, Admiral!"

"Get up!"

Zheng Zhilong pointed with the tip of his chopsticks towards the location of Nagasaki Bay, where a striking circle was drawn with cinnabar: "Tomorrow at noon, you will lead the 'Zhenhai', 'Jingbo' and ten other Fuzhou ships out of the port."

The chopsticks drew an arc on the route drawn in ink: "Go around the outer side of the Goto Islands and block the outlet to Nagasaki."

Chen Ze took a closer look. The water depth numbers marked on the nautical chart made him frown slightly: "Sir, if it is low tide, the draft of the Fu ship..."

"Calculate the tides."

Zheng Zhilong interrupted him, took out a palm-sized booklet from his pocket and threw it over: "This is a tide table provided by Ryukyu fishermen." He scratched the sea chart with his nails: "Pay special attention to the undercurrent of Cape Nomo."

Zheng Zhilong suddenly stood up, walked to the wall and took down the hanging flag. There was a ferocious dragon pattern embroidered on the flag with gold thread.

"Remember, don't intercept the Shimazu family's fleet if you see it."

He handed the flag to Chen Ze and tapped the flagpole three times with his fingers: "Let them all enter the port."

Chen Ze's pupils suddenly contracted: "My Lord, do you want to...?"

"Wait till they are all caught in the trap."

Zheng Zhilong turned back to the table and snapped the chopsticks on the sea chart. Half of the chopstick was deeply inserted into the entrance of Nagasaki Bay, and the other half was poking at the location of the Sakurajima Channel: "Shimazu Yoshihiro, that old fox, will definitely take the Sakurajima Channel."

As he spoke, Zheng Zhilong took out a brocade bag from his waist and poured out a dozen copper coins. He pressed these copper coins with the words "Zhaowu Tongbao" on the sea chart one by one: "Twenty No. 2 Fuzhou ships including "Zhenlei" and "Pili" are lying in ambush in the Zengdao Islands, specifically targeting their supply ships."

"Tuk-tuk!"

He suddenly knocked on the table with his knuckles, and his personal guard immediately brought a sand table.

Zheng Zhilong grabbed the wooden sculpture representing a warship and arranged his troops on the sand table: "The main force will ambush on the east side of Kuchinoerabu Island and wait for half of the Shimazu fleet to pass..."

He slammed his palm on the edge of the sand table, causing the wooden warships to jump one after another: "Cut it in half!"

Chen Ze frowned: "What if the Japanese pirates come to reinforce by land?"

"It's been arranged early."

Zheng Zhilong sneered and pulled out a roll of defense map from the table: "The musket battalion has set up an ambush in the abandoned kiln in the outer city of Nagasaki. Three hundred new flintlock rifles... I guarantee that no one will slip through the net!"

There was a creaking sound of a cart outside the window; it was the laborers transporting arrows.

Zheng Zhilong walked to the window and pushed open the lattice fan.

Under the moonlight, dozens of conscripted townspeople were loading bundles of arrows onto ox carts. The iron arrowheads shone coldly in the moonlight.

"Has the powder been checked?"

"Reporting to the Admiral, all twenty barrels have been loaded."

Chen Ze replied: "Each barrel is wrapped in oilcloth and hidden in the bottom cabin."

Zheng Zhilong nodded, and suddenly took a Japanese sword from the shelf and threw it to Chen Ze: "This is a reward for you. It's the sword of Matsuura Zhenxin, and it's said to be the work of Awataguchi Yoshimitsu."

Chen Ze drew his sword from its sheath, and the blade shone green in the candlelight. Zheng Zhilong's voice suddenly turned cold: "Within three days, I want to see the head of the Shimazu family in the case of this sword."

Chen Ze nodded heavily: "I will definitely fulfill my mission!"

The clock showed that it was already four o'clock.

Zheng Zhilong took the hot towel from his personal guard, wiped his face vigorously, and pointed to a bay on the sand table: "When the tide goes out, there will be reefs here. Don't let the Fu ships get close."

He took out a piece of paper with numbers written on it and said, "This is the range table of the artillery of each ship. The Red Barbarian cannon can fire up to three and a half miles, but the accurate range is only two miles. Make sure the gunners remember it."

Chen Ze was about to leave when Zheng Zhilong suddenly stopped him and said, "Wait."

He picked up a treasure bag from the desk: "Inside is the list of spies in Nagasaki City. Use Dark Fire to contact them."

After everyone left, Zheng Zhilong walked to the corridor alone. The night wind blew with the smell of the sea, and the lights of the townhouses in the distance flickered like fireflies.

Wisps of blue smoke were still emitting from the eaves of the castle tower, mixing with the sea mist and drifting towards the inky night sky.

(End of this chapter)