Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 311 This is nothing more than a transaction

The banana leaves in the courtyard of the post station were curled up from the sun and hung limply, like crumpled pieces of green silk.

VanderMeer stood in front of the huge full-length mirror in the study. His reflection was calm and impeccably dressed, just as always.

But he knew that the composure ingrained in his bones, the composure of a senior advisor to the Dutch East India Company, was a sandcastle hollowed out, which would collapse with just a gust of wind.

He is experiencing cognitive torture.

The world he believes in is a sophisticated model constructed from numbers, contracts, and power.

Profit is the only god, and the fleet is the sacred word of sermons!

Yet here, on this ancient land, all his beliefs were easily crushed by an invisible hand.

Months ago, the Ming Emperor's "New Edict on Maritime Trade" was like a ghostly curse, affixed to every trade route the company took in East Asia.

There were no complicated terms, no specific enemies, only a casual statement: "All foreign merchants entering the territory of our Great Ming Dynasty must carry an 'Imperial Ming Dragon Ticket' in order to conduct business."

VanderMeer scoffed at this.

law?

On this vast, boundless blue expanse, the Dutch East India Company's gunnery rules were the only accepted sacred text.

It wasn't until he personally went to Quanzhou and met his former partner, Zheng Zhilong, that things changed.

The pirate king, who just a few months ago could share Luzon tobacco and seascapes with him in broken Portuguese in the swaying captain's cabin, had now donned a brand-new Ming Dynasty official robe embroidered with a fierce tiger, and sat solemnly in the high hall.

“Mr. VanderMeer,” Zheng Zhilong said, holding a Jingdezhen imperial kiln teacup and tapping the table lightly with his knuckles, the sound striking precisely between VanderMeer’s heartbeats, “the business of today is not determined by how many ships or cannons you and I have. It depends on… His Majesty on the dragon throne, whether he is in a good mood or not.”

At that moment, an unprecedented sense of absurdity gripped VanderMeer.

He was horrified to realize that he was not facing a commercial dispute that could be negotiated, but a power logic that he could neither understand nor participate in.

In this logic, his proud fleet strength and his company's immense wealth become meaningless scrap metal and waste paper.

Because the source of the profits—silk, porcelain, and tea—is all hidden deep in the heart of this continent.

The company's fleet could blockade any port, but they couldn't extend their cannons to mulberry groves and tea plantations thousands of miles away.

unless……

A crazy and desperate thought flashed through his mind.

Unless the East India Company can muster a massive army capable of conquering the continent, marching all the way to Beijing, dragging the emperor off his throne who sets the rules, and strangling him with his own hands.

But this idea only lasted a fleeting moment before being shattered by cold reality.

Unrealistic.

This is not only a crazy gamble that the company's board of directors would never approve, but also a military fantasy that no sane commander would attempt.

Since we cannot destroy the rule-maker, we can only... submit to his rules.

……

The audience was not held in the solemn and majestic Fengtian Hall, but in the Wuying Hall.

This rendered VanderMeer's last remaining preparations futile.

There is no throne here, no courtiers; it is more like a vast and awe-inspiring private library.

The bookshelves, reaching to the sky, contained not only a vast collection of classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections, but also a jumble of bronze instruments and mechanical parts, and even a disassembled human skeleton model.

Emperor Zhu Youjian of the Ming Dynasty was standing in front of a huge sand table in the center of the hall.

The sand table displays every detail of the mountains, rivers, ports, and islands, from the Japanese archipelago to Malacca.

The emperor was holding a long bamboo pole in his hand, gently gesturing on the sand table, as if he were deducing something.

“Mr. VanderMeer,” the Emperor’s voice was as calm as if he were chatting with an old friend, “I’m pondering a question. Tell me, what is the value of a ship? Is it the cargo it carries, or the cannons on its deck?”

VanderMeer composed himself and replied in what he considered a proper tone, “Your Majesty, I believe both are indispensable. Powerful cannons are for protecting the valuable cargo on board. They serve the same purpose: trade and the creation of wealth.”

"Trade creates wealth..." The emperor repeated these words with amusement, and finally slowly turned around.

His face was younger than VanderMeer had imagined, but his eyes were strikingly bright, as if they could see into the deepest scheming of people's hearts.

“Well said, that is precisely where my confusion lies.”

He put down the bamboo pole and strolled to the side, randomly picking out a document from a stack of memorials and handing it to Vandermir. "Take a look at this. The Portuguese, who occupy the Haojing region, also want to trade with me. But they say they won't sell me goods; they want to help me... revise those old warship blueprints in my armory."

Vandermere took the memorial and quickly scanned it.

He recognized those rough but accurate side sectional drawings of the ship at a glance—they were improved designs of the galleons that the Portuguese had just fitted two years ago!

The emperor's voice lingered in his ears: "They also said they were willing to send their best gunners to teach my soldiers how to accurately bombard those... well, those unruly privateers at sea. They said it was their sincerity as loyal partners of the Ming Dynasty."

VanderMeer felt a chill on his fingertips.

Those Portuguese, a group of declining losers, actually tried to gain short-sighted benefits by selling their technology and knowledge!
Before he could recover from his shock, the emperor picked up another, completely different document, written in ornate Latin. “And the English,” the emperor said with a hint of amusement, picking up yet another, heavier document with sharply engraved Latin calligraphy, “they are even more interesting. They don’t sell me anything, nor do they teach me anything.”

His sharp gaze pierced VanderMeer: "They are willing to directly gift me three of their navy's more advanced warships, along with a full set of armaments and experienced instructors, to help me build a true Royal Navy. They have only one small request: that they rightfully take their share of this lucrative trade."

The emperor looked at Vandermere's face, which stiffened instantly. There was no pressure in his eyes, only an almost innocent curiosity, as if he were really seeking advice on a sweet problem.

“Mr. VanderMeer, you are an expert in this field, please give me your opinion.”

"On one hand, they want to sell me fish; on the other hand, they want to release three of the most ferocious piranhas into my pond to teach me how to raise fish. And you, Mr. Van der Meer, representing the Dutch East India Company, own the largest and most ferocious fishing boats in these waters. So... what have you brought me today?"

VanderMeer's mind went blank. Those penniless island pirates were actually willing to spend so much money!
For a moment, VanderMeer felt as if he were not standing in a royal palace, but beneath the platform of a courthouse.

And this young emperor was the judge who held the power to decide his fate.

He didn't use any coercion or intimidation; he simply laid out the confessions of the other sinners before you in the calmest tone, then smiled and asked you:

"So, what kind of ransom do you intend to offer in exchange for your acquittal?"

……

Back in the carriage at the post station, VanderMeer felt a long-lost dizziness, as if the ground beneath his feet was no longer solid ground, but a deck violently tossed about in a storm.

He felt like a trapped beast that had strayed into the depths of a hunting ground, surrounded by intricately laid traps waiting to be emptied.

As soon as he returned to his study, he dismissed everyone. VanderMeer showed no anger or roar, but simply walked slowly to the huge dressing mirror and stared intently at his reflection.

lie?

No, that's far more terrifying than lies.

Those Portuguese speculators were absolutely capable of selling their technology for personal gain.

The English, those desperate newcomers, used three capital warships to smash open the market of an empire; this kind of reckless gamble was their specialty.

This is the scariest place.

The emperor wasn't using false bargaining chips to blackmail him; he was using an undeniably real future to force him to submit.

He saw through van der Meer, and through the very essence of the Dutch East India Company—you are merchants, your logic is transaction.

If he were to present only a commercial contract, no matter how lucrative it might be, he would be politely ushered out of the Wuying Hall, and the next day, the "Imperial Dragon Ticket" would be delivered to the British.

The Ming Empire would henceforth possess three European capital ships capable of challenging any East India Company squadron, along with legitimate military advisors.

At that time, any ship that sails in these waters without permission will be considered a privateer and a pirate.

The Dutch East India Company will go from being a rule-maker to a rule-breaker overnight.

In a flash of consciousness, VanderMeer recalled the scenes he had witnessed in the Ming Dynasty over the years: ragged soldiers, lazy and indolent officials, and those officials at all levels who required hefty sums to bribe, whose greed for money far outweighed their loyalty to the emperor.

What good would it do to give a country like this, with a bureaucratic system that is rotten to the core, the sharpest weapons?
A group of generals who can't even pay their soldiers' salaries, and a group of civil officials whose minds are only on enriching themselves—can they control this power from the ocean?
Once the three warships are in their hands, will the sailors steal the cables and sell them?

Would officers withhold gunpowder quotas?

Will the cannon rust and die on its mount due to years of neglect?
No, it is inevitable.

It's like handing the finest musket to a frail, dying patient.

He might be able to scare away a few stray dogs with this gun, but he will eventually die of illness in his own bed.

And that gun will eventually fall into the hands of someone stronger.

“A wise emperor ruling over a foolish empire,” VanderMeer muttered to himself, the fear in his eyes finally fading slightly.

He suddenly realized the key to it.

Indeed, given the strength of the Dutch navy, it might not be difficult for them to defeat the Ming Dynasty's dilapidated navy at sea, or even blockade their coastline, if they were to exert all their strength.

But so what?
War can destroy their ports, but it can't produce a single tea leaf or a single bolt of silk.

All the precious goods originated from the depths of this empire's interior, held in the hands of countless bureaucrats and merchants.

Once war breaks out, trade will be completely cut off.

He could almost picture the fury of the board members in Amsterdam when they learned that East Asian trade had been completely disrupted and that the cash flow that supported half of the company’s profits had vanished into thin air.

They won't care about any naval victories; all they'll see is a disastrous balance sheet.

At that time, not only the governor of Batavia, but even I, the negotiator, will probably be dealt with mercilessly and thrown into some unknown harbor to feed the fish.

Compared to the board shareholders who held the power of life and death over him, this young emperor seemed less frightening.

What the emperor wanted was nothing more than a tribute he could show off to the world, a gesture that would allow him to consolidate his authority.

What I and the company behind me need most right now is to protect East Asia Trade, this goose that lays golden eggs!
This is just a transaction.

A deal that trades away future benefits that might be devoured by parasites for huge present gains.

Moreover, preserving his position and the power of the governor of Batavia was more important than any distant threat!
(End of this chapter)