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Chapter 901: The Laughing Proud Wanderer
“Tap…tap—”
The messenger's iron boots stomped heavily on the pine floor. Zheng Zhilong was adjusting the strap of his arm guard and turned around immediately when he heard the sound.
"Report to the Admiral!"
The messenger knelt on one knee at the threshold, the triangular flag behind him still trembling slightly, the flag was stained with night dew: "The sentry ship "Watchtower" sent back three red and two green light signals, the fleet was spotted twenty miles southwest, advancing in a goose formation!"
"Get up and talk!"
Zheng Zhilong glanced at the messenger's sweaty forehead and asked, "What is the exact number?"
"Reporting to the Admiral, the lookout has confirmed at least thirty large Andaku ships, with indigo painted hulls. There are also more than twenty small Hayabusa ships scattered on both sides. In the middle of the fleet is a three-story ship with the Shimazu family flag with a black cross on a white background flying on its mast."
The flame on the candlestick suddenly shook violently, stretching Zheng Zhilong's shadow onto the gray-white wall. He turned and walked towards the nanmu desk in the center of the military meeting room:
"Beat the drum, raise the tent."
“Woooo ...
The guards outside the gate immediately blew the trumpet. The deep sound echoed between the stone walls of Hirado Castle, and within half a quarter of an hour, twelve generals arrived one after another.
Chen Ze was the first to rush in, with dewdrops still hanging on his armor. Next came Li Chong, the commander of the Firearm Battalion, and the last to come in was veteran Zhao Wu.
Zheng Zhilong grabbed the cinnabar brush on the table, dipped the tip of the brush into the inkstone three times, leaned over and drew three arrows on the nautical chart, and the cinnabar left a bright red track on the paper.
"Chen Ze."
The tip of the pen stopped at the entrance of Nagasaki Bay, and his fingernail scratched a shallow groove on the drawing. Zheng Zhilong said, "You lead the Zhenhai, Jingbo and other ten Fu ships to block the bay entrance as planned. Each ship should be equipped with enough chain bullets. Pay special attention to the changes in the tides, and keep the fleet in the deep waters of the open sea during low tide."
Chen Ze leaned in to check the chart and tapped on it:
"Admiral, if the southeast wind blows, it will affect the transverse speed of the Fu Ship..."
Zheng Zhilong turned his pen toward the Yemu Cape and tapped the reef area marked on the drawing with his pen:
"You take five No. 2 Fuzhou ships and ambush here to attack the enemy ships that have fallen behind. Each ship should carry shotgun shells and kerosene bombs. No one should be left alive."
Li Chong's right hand unconsciously reached for the musket at his waist: "What if we encounter the Shimazu family's iron cannon team?"
"Use the red cannon to bombard the deck first."
Zheng Zhilong pressed his index finger heavily on the sea area north of Tanegashima Island: "The main fleet will set up an ambush here. Wait until half of the Shimazu fleet passes... and cut it off in the middle."
"Yes!"
The three of them looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
When Zhao Wu came in with a full set of armor, Zheng Zhilong was fastening the straps of his wrist armor. The iron pieces snapped together and made a light clicking sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet military meeting room. Zhao Wu knelt on the ground to help Zheng Zhilong check his shin armor, and his fingers pulled hard on each buckle twice.
"Has the gunpowder been divided up?"
Zheng Zhilong moved his shoulders.
Zhao Wu nodded: "Twenty barrels per boat, all wrapped in three layers of oil paper. Forty rounds of solid bullets and chain bullets, and fifteen rounds of kerosene bullets."
Zheng Zhilong walked to the window and opened it. The harbor in the morning mist was already busy. Sailors were carrying arrows onto the ship, each bundle of arrows wrapped in oilcloth. Gunners were measuring the barrel with hemp ropes, and someone poured a small amount of gunpowder into the barrel for the final test.
"Have the doctors from each ship arrived?"
Zhao Wu opened the roster and said, "Two doctors are assigned to each ship. The medicines are as you ordered. We also brought extra wound medicine and liquor."
Zheng Zhilong took off a leather bag from his waist and threw it to Chen Ze: "Inside is the defense map of Nagasaki Port. There are hidden stakes in the locations marked with red circles. Burn it after reading it."
The sound of war drums came from afar, the rhythm changing from slow to fast. Zheng Zhilong fastened the last belt of armor, grabbed the helmet on the table, and tapped his fingers on the door frame twice:
"Leave the port at 3:30 am. I want to see the Shimazu family's flagship sink before noon."
At three quarters past three in the morning, Zheng Zhilong stepped onto the deck stained with night dew and boarded the Zhenhai ship. He was wearing a black chain mail, and the handle of the Japanese sword on his waist was wrapped with a dark red cloth strip.
"Woo~~~"
Suddenly, the harbor was filled with the sound of horns, long and mournful. Zheng Zhilong leaned on the railing with both hands, watching the thirty-six Fu ships under his command raise the black flags embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons one after another. These warships had tall hulls, with firing holes densely dotted on the sides, and each ship was equipped with more than twelve red cannons.
"Hold the rudder to port! Raise the jib!"
Zheng Zhilong shouted at the top of his voice.
As the flagman waved the flag, the capstan began to turn slowly, and the friction of the rough rope was particularly harsh in the quiet harbor. The sailors, with bare upper bodies and tense muscles, shouted in unison and raised the jib. The sound of the canvas hitting the mast and the creaking of the pulley were intertwined.
Zheng Zhilong's eyes fell on the Jingbo, which was not far away. This flagship was larger than other warships. On the deck, Chen Ze was directing the gunners to adjust the gun ports. The newly cast red cannon slowly came out of the muzzle, and the cannon body was shining with a cold metallic luster. The gunners were wiping the barrel and preparing gunpowder, their movements were skillful and fast.
A personal soldier came running over and handed over a monocular telescope. Zheng Zhilong took it, wiped it casually with his sleeve, and held it up to his eyes.
In the telescope, a blurry ship shadow appeared on the sea in the southwest. As the focus was adjusted, the white sails of the Shimazu warships gradually became clearer, and the huge cross pattern on the sails was faintly visible in the morning light. Those Ataku ships had narrow hulls, high bows, and cannon firing holes lined up on the sides.
At the beginning of the Mao hour, the sky gradually brightened. Zheng Zhilong ordered the captains of each ship to board the Zhenhai. On the deck, although the bloodstains left by the battle last night were covered by sand, the dark red marks that penetrated the wooden boards were still clearly visible. Thirty-six captains stood in a line, wearing armor of various colors, with swords on their waists, and serious expressions.
Zheng Zhilong picked up a chain bullet, and the chain between the two iron balls rattled: "Have you tested the range?" "Replying to the admiral, we tested it at 3 pm yesterday, and the maximum range was 200 meters, but the accurate range..."
"The mast must be broken within 150 feet."
Zheng Zhilong waved his hand and said, "Order all ships, when you encounter the enemy, first attack the rudder tower, then the waterline!"
After saying that, he slowly walked to the front of the crowd and took a wine jar from the hand of his personal guard. He knocked the mud seal of the jar open with the handle of his knife, and the strong aroma of wine immediately spread out. He tilted his head back and took a big gulp of wine, which dripped down his chin and splashed small water droplets on his chain mail.
"In today's battle, Shimazu Yoshihiro must survive, and the lives of the other pirates will not matter."
Zheng Zhilong spoke in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over every general:
"Back then, when Qi Shaobao was in Taizhou, he used the heads of Japanese pirates to build a Jingguan. Today, we will also let these Japanese know how powerful the Ming navy is!"
He raised his head and took a sip, then passed the jar to Chen Ze beside him. Chen Ze took it, raised his head and drank it all, then passed the jar to the next person. The jar was passed from one general to another, and after each person finished drinking, they put the wine bowl heavily on the deck, making a dull sound.
When the last captain finished drinking, Zheng Zhilong suddenly snatched the wine bowl and slammed it to the ground. Porcelain pieces flew everywhere, making a crisp shattering sound on the deck.
"Raise the flag! Prepare for battle!"
The sailors immediately took action and hoisted the main sail. The huge black dragon flag fluttered in the morning breeze. The gunners pushed the shells into the gun barrels, lit the fuse, and were ready to fire at any time. On the deck, the swordsmen and archers took their positions, and the atmosphere was extremely tense.
The sound of the gong from the lookout pierced the calm of the sea. Zheng Zhilong took two steps at a time and walked up to the lookout tower next to the main mast, snatching the telescope from the guard.
He squinted his left eye as he felt the cool metal of the lens. His right eye focused on the approaching Shimazu fleet through the lens. Thirty Ataku ships were breaking through the waves in a wedge-shaped formation. The building ship in the center, decorated with a golden family crest, was particularly conspicuous. The white-haired old man leaning on a katana on the bow was Shimazu Yoshihiro. The armor on his body glowed dark purple in the sun, and the three long swords hanging from his waist gently hit each other as the ship swayed.
"Order all ships to lower sails to half sail and man the gunners!"
Zheng Zhilong's Adam's apple rolled, and his voice was filled with suppressed excitement. His eyes swept across the floating buoys on the sea surface - those marks marked with bamboo tubes and cloth strips were slightly shifting with the water flow. The ebb tide was faster than expected, and the current was carrying broken waves and hitting the side of the ship. This was exactly the ambush area he had sent people to explore three days in advance. At this moment, the tide receded. If the Shimazu fleet went deeper, the shallows on both sides would become a deadly trap.
"Report! The enemy ship has entered the range of the Red Cannon!"
The messenger's voice came from below the deck. Zheng Zhilong slowly raised his right hand, staring at the white mark left by the waterline of the Shimazu flagship on the sea surface, calculating the distance between the front warship and the Tanegashima reef.
When the warship at the front of the Shimazu fleet was only two arrows' distance away from the reef on the west side of Tanegashima, Zheng Zhilong waved his hand fiercely:
"fire!"
"boom--!"
Twelve red-haired cannons spewed out flames at the same time, and the gun smoke from the muzzles instantly enveloped the deck of the Zhenhai. Zheng Zhilong was shocked by the air wave and took a half step back, his ears buzzing. He steadied himself and saw through the smoke that the solid shells dragged a black trajectory and hit the right wing of the Shimadzu fleet accurately. The outermost wheelhouse of the Ataka ship was hit directly, and the wooden structure made a cracking sound under the heavy load. Broken wood chips and human body parts were lifted into the air by the air wave and fell heavily on the deck of the adjacent ship.
"Switch to shotgun shells! Hit the deck!"
Zheng Zhilong screamed at the top of his lungs, and the gunners skillfully turned the gun barrels and pushed the shotgun barrels loaded with hundreds of iron balls into the gun barrels. When the second round of artillery fire sounded, the decks of the three Antaku ships instantly turned into a Shura field. The iron balls poured down like a rainstorm, and the foot soldiers of the Shimazu family did not even have time to raise their shields before the dense bullets penetrated their armor. Some people were hit in the neck by iron balls, and blood gushed out, staining the entire side of the ship red; some people rolled on the deck holding their broken arms and screaming.
In the telescope, Shimazu Yoshihiro, with disheveled white hair, was waving a sword to direct the fleet to turn. The old general's armor was splattered with the blood of his subordinates, and his roar could be faintly heard even across the sea. Zheng Zhilong's mouth curled up into a sneer.
At this moment, twenty Fujian ships led by Lieutenant General Li rushed out at full speed from behind Yemu Cape.
The distance between the two flagships was shortened to the range of bows and arrows. Zheng Zhilong pulled out a three-edged arrow from the quiver, and the bowstring was pulled into a full moon in his hand. He aimed at the flag bearer waving the command flag on the Shimazu ship, held his breath, and shot the arrow. With the sound of the arrow breaking through the air, the flag bearer was shot in the throat and fell to the ground with the flagpole.
"Boarding team ready!"
Zheng Zhilong threw off his heavy helmet and held a goose-feather knife in each hand. The cloth wrapped around the blade had long been soaked in blood. "Today, either I carry Shimazu's head back or I throw his body into the sea!"
The moment the gangplank touched the enemy ship, Zheng Zhilong rushed over on the splashing waves. The oncoming samurai raised his sword to chop, but he dodged sideways and slashed the opponent's ribs with his backhand. The resistance of the blade entering the flesh was felt, and warm blood splattered on his face. He didn't bother to wipe it off, and swung his sword across, and two more foot soldiers had their calves cut off, screaming and twitching on the deck.
The deck was pungent with the smell of blood, and sparks flew from the collision of iron blades. Zheng Zhilong felt a scratch on his left arm, but he didn't feel any pain at all. His eyes were fixed on the white-haired figure at the stern - Shimazu Yoshihiro was leading more than a dozen guards fighting and retreating. The old man's sword was already bent, and his armor was covered with knife marks. When he saw the other side preparing to board the small boat, Zheng Zhilong kicked the corpse blocking the way and shouted loudly: "Zhao Wu! Take the musketeers to the starboard side!"
"Yes!"
Led by Zhao Wu, twenty musketeers quickly dispersed. They placed the latest flintlock rifles in the special grooves on the side of the ship, with the brass hammers cocked. Each man bit open the gunpowder paper bag with his teeth and poured the black powder into the ignition tray.
Zhao Wu squatted down to check the positions of the third row of musketeers and found that the hand of a new soldier holding the gun was shaking. He directly hit the other's calf with the butt of the gun: "Why are you shaking? I'll let you see the real thing later!"
"Prepare—release!"
As soon as Zhao Wu gave the order, twenty flintlock rifles spewed out flames at the same time. White smoke rose from the sea, and the sound of lead bullets breaking through the air intertwined into a sharp sound network. The guards around Shimazu Yoshihiro fell one after another like harvested straw. Some were hit in the face by bullets, and the muffled sound of skull shattering mixed with the sound of gunfire; some had blood on their backs, and blood mist splattered on the old general's red lacquer armor. The old general's right shoulder suddenly exploded with a ball of blood, and his right hand holding the sword drooped weakly, and the ancestral Bizen Nagamaki tachi fell on the deck with a "clang".
Zheng Zhilong seized the opportunity, raised his two swords above his head, and rushed forward on the bodies of his personal guards. The samurai on the left swung his sword and chopped, and he turned sideways and used the handle of the sword to knock the opponent's wrist open, and the blade swept across his Adam's apple; the foot soldier on the right stabbed with a gun, and he turned around to avoid it, and the blade cut the opponent's tendons. Every time he swung the sword, there was a sound of breaking through the air, and blood dripped along the blade, forming a winding stream on the deck. When he rushed in front of Shimazu Yoshihiro, the chain mail on his body was already covered with minced meat, and the blade had three notches.
"You... are Zheng Zhilong? ... You will pay the price for this! My Shimazu family will never let you go!"
Shimazu Yoshihiro knelt on one knee, his white hair stuck to his face with blood scabs, and his sunken eye sockets burned with unwilling flames. The old ghost tried to reach the sword that fell three steps away, and Zheng Zhilong slashed at the sneak attacking samurai with his backhand, and blood spurted out and dripped on Shimazu Yoshihiro's white hair, shining dark red under the sunlight.
"Tied!"
Zheng Zhilong tore off his bloodstained belt, wrapped it around the wound and tightened it. He watched as two of his personal soldiers used iron chains to tie up Shimazu Yoshihiro's hands and feet, and deliberately wrapped the chains around the veteran's broken fingers repeatedly until veins popped out on his forehead from the pain.
"Stuff sackcloth in his mouth, and don't let him bite his tongue to death."
Zheng Zhilong kicked the old ghost lying on the ground and waved his blade in front of him:
"I want you to live and see clearly who is the master of this sea."
(End of this chapter)
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