The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

The midday sun shone directly on the sea, and the steaming hot air mixed with the smell of blood was nauseating.

Zheng Zhilong stood on the main deck of the Zhenhai, watching the mast of the last resisting ship, the Anzhai ship, being hit by chain bullets. The thick cedar mast groaned under the heavy load, and fell down with the torn canvas, and the hull tilted 30 degrees in an instant. The Japanese soldiers on the deck fell into the sea like rolling dice. Some were entangled by broken ropes around their necks and drowned in the struggle; some were holding on to the floating wooden planks and were shot by the musketeers of the Fuzhou ship who came later.

"Admiral, the statistics are out."

Chen Ze was covered in gunpowder smoke, and a wound under his right ear was still bleeding. He walked over holding an oil paper and said, "My division sank 18 enemy ships and captured 9. The rest fled to the southwest. We lost two Fu ships, and the Polang and Zhendong were burned by fire ships. Three ships were seriously damaged, and the Jinghai had a broken keel, so it is being urgently repaired."

Zheng Zhilong took the oil paper and scanned the casualty list. When he saw: Wang San, gunner, died at 3:30 pm, his fingers unconsciously stroked the handwriting on the paper. It was the old gunner who had followed him for five years.

Gritting his teeth, Zheng Zhilong put the list in his arms and let out a breath:

"Send small boats to salvage those who fell into the water, and keep those who can speak Japanese to interrogate. Gather the shipwrights of the captured ships, especially those who know how to cast cannons."

After a pause, he added: "Search every enemy ship for documents from the Shimazu family, including letters, nautical charts, account books, not a single piece of paper can be left out."

After saying that, he turned to look at Shimazu Yoshihiro who was being escorted past. Although the old ghost was tied up with iron chains, his eyes were still fierce. When the personal guards poked the other's back with a spear to urge him, Shimazu suddenly struggled to raise his head: "You Han people are treacherous! Sooner or later, I will make you pay with blood!"

Zheng Zhilong sneered and drew out the short blade from his waist. The blade pressed against the old general's Adam's apple: "I have seen your Japanese swords since I was eight years old, when I was carrying sacks at the dock of Haojiang. In the past twenty years, from Penghu to Ryukyu, I have buried brothers in every sea area. Today I am just collecting some interest."

He put away his short blade and shouted to the sailors watching: "Order all ships to hang the enemy's head for three days! From tomorrow on, all Japanese ships must lower their sails and fire their cannons when they see our Ming dragon flag!"

As dusk fell, the thirty-six Fukusen began to return. The nine captured Atakasen were chained together, with the heads of the Shimazu family hanging on their bows.

Zheng Zhilong stood on the top floor of the ship, looking at the floating bodies and broken planks. The sea breeze brought a salty smell, mixed with the undried blood on the deck, which condensed into dark red scabs under the setting sun. He untied the temporary bandage and let the sea water wash the wound, letting the tingling sensation awaken the numb nerves.

...............

The autumn rain had been falling for seven days, and fine water droplets had condensed on the surface of the stone walls of Hirado Castle.

Zheng Zhilong wore a black patent leather hat and wooden clogs and climbed up to the third floor of the newly built castle tower. The damp wooden boards creaked under his feet, and he lifted the oilcloth curtain and overlooked the entire city through the square gap where the window frames had not yet been installed.

The dull sound of stones colliding could be heard from below the city. Hundreds of Japanese laborers were naked, carrying granite under the whips of Ming army supervisors. They all wore rough iron shackles on their ankles, and the friction between the iron chains and the stones made a harsh sound when they walked. One of the laborers slipped, and the heavy stone hit his instep. Before he could scream, the supervisor's whip had already hit his spine, and it immediately cracked.

"Build it five feet higher."

Retracting his gaze, Zheng Zhilong knocked on the window frame with the shark skin-wrapped scabbard, then turned to look at the head of the Ministry of Works who was holding a blueprint beside him. The hem of the other person's official uniform was stained with mud, and it was obvious that he had just rushed in from the construction site.

The officer swallowed his saliva and rubbed his fingers repeatedly on a certain spot on the blueprint: "Admiral, I'm afraid there is not enough stone... According to the Portuguese bastion style, the gap must be at least 3,000 cubic meters..."

"not enough?!"

Zheng Zhilong suddenly grabbed the tea bowl on the table and threw it out of the window in a parabola. The bowl broke half a meter above the laborer's head, and the flying porcelain pieces brushed the ear of an old man.

All the workers froze instantly, then knelt down in the mud with their foreheads pressed against the ground.

"The ancestral tomb of the Matsuura family was demolished."

Zheng Zhilong leaned against the windowsill, the rain dripping down the edge of his hat. The corners of his mouth turned up, revealing his white teeth: "The stones from those tombstones are enough to build two artillery platforms."

Before he finished speaking, the Ming army on the city wall had already driven several laborers to pick up mattocks and walk towards the hill west of the city.

.........

The next morning, the sea fog enveloped the city wall like cotton wool. Zheng Zhilong, wearing a black cloak and two short guns on his waist, inspected the bastion surrounded by his personal guards. He stretched out his palm and pressed it against the newly built stone wall. His fingertips could feel the rough particles of mortar that had not dried yet. Suddenly he raised his foot and kicked a battlement with the front of his clogs, but the stone did not move at all.

"not enough."

He turned and looked at the head craftsman huddled in the corner: "Bury sharp wooden stakes in the moat to draw seawater in. The stakes will be exposed at low tide and hidden under water at high tide."

The chief craftsman wiped the rain off his face and said, "Admiral, more than a dozen Japanese workers have died of exhaustion... Yesterday at 3 a.m., Sato, who was in charge of moving the stones..."

"Just catch him if he dies!"

Zheng Zhilong pulled out a brand new flintlock pistol from the waist of his personal guard, and the cylinder turned flexibly between his fingers. He pointed the muzzle at the labor team carrying stones outside the city wall and suddenly pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

The gunshot startled seabirds all over the sky, and the worker who was hit fell forward and fell face down into the moat. Blood spread on the water surface, dyeing a large area of ​​water red. The other workers were so scared that they trembled all over and dropped the stones in their hands.

"Now there's one less."

Zheng Zhilong blew away the smoke from the muzzle and put the short gun back into his waist: "Go and get some new ones."

"You guys, follow me!"

The captain of the guards, who remained calm, waved his hand and more than a dozen guards took action. The selected soldiers hung long swords on their waists and rode their horses out of the city, with mud and water splashed everywhere by their iron hooves.

In the evening, Zheng Zhilong arrived at the labor camp outside the city. There were two wooden stakes at the entrance, with three heads hanging on them, and the rain washed the white faces. The camp was filled with the stench of feces and rust. Hundreds of Japanese laborers were tied to the stakes with iron chains, and the wounds on their ankles had festered.

The fire illuminated the workers who were forging caltrops. A young man dozed off, and the hammer in his hand missed, and sparks splashed on his neighbor's arm. The supervisor immediately rushed over, grabbed the red-hot iron and pressed it on the boy's face. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, and as the boy screamed heartbreakingly, the "slave" brand gradually took shape.

“The progress is too slow.”

Zheng Zhilong frowned as he looked at the pile of iron materials. The workers beside the anvil sped up their hammering, sparks flying everywhere. He took out a bamboo scroll from his sleeve and said, "Pass the order down. Those who complete the quota will be rewarded with a rice ball. Those who fail to complete it..."

He pointed to a newly dug pit in the corner of the camp, where there was still fresh blood: "Throw it in to fill the foundation."

As soon as he finished speaking, the workers' movements became noticeably faster, and the sound of the anvils hitting the iron became chaotic and rapid.

A middle-aged laborer quietly raised his head and met Zheng Zhilong's eyes. Zheng Zhilong suddenly smiled and slowly walked in front of him. The hammer in the laborer's hand fell to the ground with a clang, and he fell to his knees.

"what's your name?"

Zheng Zhilong squatted down and raised the man's chin with his finger. The laborer trembled all over, his teeth chattered and he couldn't speak. Zheng Zhilong took out a rice ball from his arms and shook it in front of the man's eyes.

The laborer's eyes suddenly lit up, and he instinctively reached out his hand. At this moment, Zheng Zhilong suddenly stuffed the rice ball into his mouth and pressed the back of his head hard. The laborer whimpered in suffocation, struggled wildly with his limbs, and gradually stopped moving.

"Drag it to fill the hole."

Zheng Zhilong stood up and wiped his fingers: "Starting tomorrow, everyone's ration will be increased by 30%."

The camp was dead silent, with only the sound of rain hitting the tarpaulin roof and the suppressed sobs of the workers. …………

The next day, at 3:30 pm.

Zheng Zhilong summoned a group of special guests to the renovated assessment room. Five ragged Japanese miners knelt on the damp tatami with their foreheads pressed against the ground. Several of them still smelled of sulfur from the mines, and their fingernails were embedded with black mud that could not be washed off.

"look up."

Zheng Zhilong gave orders in Japanese and motioned for the interpreter to come forward.

The leading miner, Oda, raised his head, his cloudy eyes moving restlessly. He noticed a few ore samples on the table, which glowed metallically under the candlelight.

"I heard that you worked as a gold digger at Sado's gold mine?"

Zheng Zhilong picked up a piece of gold-containing quartz and weighed it gently in his hand.

Oda's Adam's apple rolled: "Yes, yes, sir. I also worked at Tsuruko Silver Mine for ten years..."

Zheng Zhilong suddenly smashed the ore onto the table, and the "bang" sound scared the miners so much that they trembled all over.

"How is the current output of Iwami Silver Mine?"

Xiaotian subconsciously looked at his companion beside him, but Zheng Zhilong grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up. The knuckles of the iron gloves made him unable to breathe.

"S-Sir, please spare my life..."

Oda kicked his feet in the air and said hurriedly: "Iwami Silver Mine can produce 80,000 taels of silver every month...but, but Tokugawa Ieyasu has sent heavy troops to guard it..."

Zheng Zhilong let go of his hand and let Xiaotian fall to the ground. He pulled out a short knife from the waist of his personal guard and slowly cut his nails: "Where is Sado?"

“Sado’s Golden Mountain…”

Xiaotian coughed violently for a few times, and after catching his breath, he hurriedly said: "The main mine cave collapsed last year, killing more than 200 people... Now the output is less than 30% of the peak period..."

"Take my people to find new mineral veins. Can't find any..."

Zheng Zhilong suddenly inserted the short knife between Xiaotian's fingers, and the blade gently scratched the miner's calloused fingers: "You will never have to mine again."

In the afternoon, twelve copper lamps illuminated the long table in the military meeting room. Zheng Zhilong spread out seven yellowed mineral vein maps in front of him, some of which were burnt at the edges and some were covered with incomplete Japanese official seals. He held a cinnabar pen in his left hand and a magnifying glass in his right hand to carefully examine the markings of Iwami Silver Mine.

"Commander-in-Chief Chen."

Zheng Zhilong didn't even raise his head, and pointed three red dots on the map with his pen. "Take 30 people and pretend to be merchants from Bodo. Focus on investigating the three silver transportation routes. Remember, when you see a team of horses carrying silver, count the bells first."

Chen Ze knelt on one knee and took the detailed secret letter: "Should we take Xiaotian with us? He is familiar with the terrain of Iwami."

Zheng Zhilong threw a gold coin on the table, and the gold coin hit the edge of the inkstone with a crisp sound: "Tell him that if he finds a mineral vein, he will be rewarded with ten coins. If he dares to play tricks... I will use his blood to open the mine."

…………

Hirado Castle fell silent after nightfall, with only sporadic drum beats piercing the humid air. Zheng Zhilong sat alone in his study, with a brass oil lamp on his desk, the flickering flames casting his shadow on the wall. The Kyushu map in front of him was unfolded on the lacquer table, the edges of which had curled up and were frayed, obviously having been flipped through many times.

Zheng Zhilong held a silver needle in his right hand and pressed the edge of the map with his left hand. The needle first pierced the location of Hirado Castle, and then made small holes in Iwami Ginzan, Sado Gold Mine, Nagasaki Port and other places. After each piercing, he would stop and stare for a moment, as if calculating something. When the needle tip moved to Sakurajima, he exerted force on his wrist, and the silver needle sank deeply into the map, almost penetrating the table.

At this moment, there were rapid footsteps outside the door.

"Report——!"

The messenger's voice sounded outside the door: "The King of Ryukyu Shangning sent an envoy to deliver a secret letter!"

Zheng Zhilong took back the silver needle and wiped his fingertips with his sleeve.

"Come in."

The messenger pushed the door open, knelt on one knee, and presented a bamboo tube wrapped in oil paper. The surface of the bamboo tube was coated with moisture-proof tung oil, and the sealing wax at the seal was printed with the emblem of the Ryukyu royal family.

Zheng Zhilong took the bamboo tube, used a short blade to pry open the wax, and pulled out the letter paper inside. The letter paper was as thin as a cicada's wing, almost transparent under the light, and on it was written in neat small characters: "Satsuma is empty, it can be taken."

Zheng Zhilong stared at these six words, his face was startled at first, then the corners of his mouth slowly rose. Suddenly he laughed out loud, and the laughter was particularly abrupt in the quiet night. Before the laughter ended, the crows perched under the eaves were startled, and the sound of flapping wings came from the roof.

The laughter gradually died down, and Zheng Zhilong brought the letter closer to the oil lamp. The flames licked the edge of the paper and slowly spread upwards. He stared at the dancing flames, his eyes flashing with coldness.

When the letter was about to burn out, Zheng Zhilong suddenly said, "Send a message to all camps to move out at 3:00 pm in three days. Target——"

He pressed his finger heavily on Kagoshima Castle on the map: "The home of the Shimazu family!"

The messenger took the order and left, the sound of his footsteps gradually disappearing into the night.

Zheng Zhilong stood up and walked to the window, pushing open the wooden window frame. The sea breeze, carrying a salty smell, blew in his face, and in the distance, a few fishing lights were looming in the waves.

...............

The darkness before dawn is the thickest. Zheng Zhilong has already climbed the rebuilt city wall. He is wearing chain mail, a black cape, and two Japanese swords on his waist. On the newly built bastion, the gunners are debugging the newly cast Portuguese cannon. The copper body of the cannon is still hot from casting. The gunners wipe the barrel with a wet cloth, and the wooden barrels for preparing gunpowder are lined up on the ground.

"grown ups."

Chen Ze walked over quickly, his armor still wet with dew. He knelt on one knee and presented a cowhide package: "The first silver mine exploration team has set off, disguised as a Japanese merchant caravan. This is the list of goods they carry and the customs documents."

Zheng Zhilong took the package and looked through it briefly. The list included goods such as Hakata brocade, porcelain, and spices, and the customs clearance documents were stamped with forged seals. He handed the package to the guard beside him and cast his eyes on the dark sea. There, twenty Fuzhou ships had assembled, their sails were folded, and only a few lights were left as signs.

"Tell the boys."

Zheng Zhilong said in a cold voice: "If you take down Satsuma, I will allow them to fight for three days. Food, women, treasures, whatever you want, go and take it. But there is one thing - no one from the Shimazu family will be spared."

Chen Ze left quickly after receiving the order, and his footsteps echoed on the city wall. Zheng Zhilong stood alone on the bastion, watching the dawn gradually rising in the east.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, Hirado Castle gradually woke up. At the port, sailors began to move supplies busily; on the city walls, soldiers lined up for drill; in the labor camp, the sound of the overseers' whips rang out again.

(End of this chapter)