Chapter Sixty-Three: Li Dan

At last, the two ships drew alongside each other. Zhang Qianfang, brandishing his long blade, leapt across first, followed by the first team of swordsmen. With a flash of steel, Zhang Qianfang cut down the pirate before him, cleaving the man in two and striking terror into the hearts of the others. Morale surged among his own men, who charged forward, cutting down the enemy as they went.

The comrades Zhang Qianfang had handpicked from the Capital Garrison were all skilled swimmers and seasoned fighters. Beneath their clothes, they wore finely crafted armor; their long blades were superior weapons from the arsenal, and their firearms were flintlocks designed by Sun Yuanhua—far better equipped than their adversaries. In both discipline and martial prowess, they surpassed the pirates; their only disadvantage was a lack of experience in naval combat. Thus, the battle ended swiftly.

Yang Dali was, unexpectedly, still alive. He ordered a tally of casualties on each ship: ten dead and seven wounded on the first, eight dead and five wounded on the second; Zhang Qianfang's ship suffered only two wounded, and those were minor injuries. In a fit of rage, Yang Dali had every enemy on the captured ship killed. Zhang Qianfang could do little to stop him and let him vent his anger.

By then, the trailing ships had caught up. The crews were reorganized, and preparations made to bury the dead. At sea, only a burial at sea was possible. The men from the Capital Garrison watched the shrouded bodies drift away on wooden planks, the mournful, unintelligible songs filling their hearts with grief and dread.

Zhang Qianfang shouted, “Men of honor, why lament as if you were maidens mourning the seasons? To die at sea is a glory for the likes of us!”

Shen Congjing added, “We shall soon have even better weapons and equipment. If we give our best, we can carve out a new world upon these waves. Pirates are nothing more than chickens and dogs.”

It was only their first time fighting at sea, and their unease was natural; they also dreaded dying far from land, unable to be buried in soil. But upon reflection, they realized the losses were not so dire—only two lightly wounded on their ship. Their spirits revived.

Yang Dali was highly impressed by the fighting strength aboard Zhang Qianfang’s ship and ordered them to take the fourth position, ahead of which was now the newly captured pirate vessel. The group, seven ships strong, set course for Nagasaki.

Yang Tiansheng had agents in Nagasaki to handle their cargo. As soon as they docked, someone came to receive them. Yang Dali asked Zhang Qianfang, “What cargo will your ship carry back?”

“Copper ingots. That’s all we need,” Zhang Qianfang replied.

“The profit on copper isn’t high. Why not bring back something else? Japanese swords, for example, fetch a good price.”

“Thank you, Brother Dali, but we’ll just buy a few swords for ourselves while we’re out shopping. For cargo, copper ingots will suffice.” The Crown Prince had already decided they would sell the copper to the arsenal upon their return; there was no use in other goods.

“Very well. Just be careful when you’re out and about—not to provoke any Ming people. As for the Japanese, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Zhang Qianfang asked curiously, “Why is there no problem with the Japanese, but we must avoid offending the Ming?”

Yang Dali grinned. “It’s your first time here, so you wouldn't know. You can never be sure who stands behind a Ming person; causing trouble for them can bring complications. But as for the Japanese, at worst you’ll just have to pay them off.”

Zhang Qianfang, together with Zhang Lijie and half his crew, went ashore. Their first stop was a sword shop—they wanted to see how Japanese swords compared to their own long blades. Everyone tried the swords: some found them handier than their own, others did not like them. So Zhang Qianfang bought a sword for each man who fancied one. As they left the shop, a Japanese man approached and asked, “Noble guests from the Middle Kingdom, would you care to enjoy a little music and dance?”

Yang Dali had told them these were actually Japanese courtesans—affordable and obedient. Zhang Qianfang turned to his men and said, “If anyone wants to sample the local flavors, just sign up—I’ll pay for you!”

The men, being soldiers, had never imagined they could visit brothels at the public’s expense. Some eyes lit up with anticipation, while others showed no interest, but no one volunteered.

Zhang Qianfang knew that sailors could not be expected to abstain from women forever, but perhaps their shyness held them back the first time. He did not press the matter, and after a bit more wandering and a meal, they returned to relieve Shen Congjing and his group.

Though this voyage had not gone entirely smoothly, Zhang Qianfang suffered no losses. Upon their return, Yang Tiansheng, after hearing Yang Dali’s report, became greatly interested in their weapons and equipment, and asked Zhang Qianfang to procure several dozen new flintlocks for him.

Zhang Qianfang was not authorized to make such decisions, so he reported the request to the Crown Prince through contacts in Quanzhou. Zhu Youxiao granted permission to sell a hundred flintlocks to Yang Tiansheng, but only enough powder and bullets for fifty shots per gun—so that even if the guns fell into the wrong hands, the lack of ammunition would prevent disaster.

Though Yang Tiansheng paid a hefty sum, his ships’ combat strength improved dramatically. He gained new respect for His Highness the Crown Prince, and by extension for Zhang Qianfang, entrusting him with command of his fleet, with Yang Dali as his assistant.

Before long, a great upheaval occurred at court, and the Crown Prince ascended the throne as Emperor. Yang Tiansheng marveled at his nephew’s good fortune and valued Zhang Qianfang all the more. One day, he told Zhang Qianfang he would take him to Japan and introduce him to two friends.

This time, they sailed with ten ships. With the new flintlocks, Yang Tiansheng’s power had grown—no one dared rob him, and he often took from others instead. Thanks to his share of the spoils, Zhang Qianfang had purchased a ship of his own and now commanded two.

Upon reaching Nagasaki, Yang Tiansheng took Zhang Qianfang to visit Li Dan, a renowned shipowner from Quanzhou. Zhang Qianfang remembered that the Crown Prince—no, the Emperor now—had once mentioned this name. When Yang Tiansheng introduced him to Li Dan, Zhang Qianfang knelt and bowed, declaring, “Your great reputation has long preceded you; to meet you today is truly the fortune of three lifetimes.”

As a junior to Yang Tiansheng, such a formality was appropriate. But when Li Dan heard the phrase “great reputation,” he glanced at Yang Tiansheng and asked, “Where did young Zhang hear of me?”

Zhang Qianfang replied, “I once served as an officer in the Capital Garrison, and there I met a great figure who spoke to me of your exploits, advising me to seek your counsel if ever I had the chance.”

Li Dan looked again at Yang Tiansheng, who leaned in and whispered, “This nephew of mine seems to have some connections in the capital, though I don’t know the details.”

Li Dan helped Zhang Qianfang to his feet. “Your uncle and I are close as brothers. You are as my own nephew—there’s no need for formality. If you ever need anything, come straight to me.”

Zhang Qianfang accepted gratefully. After some casual conversation, he and Yang Tiansheng took their leave. On the way, Yang Tiansheng advised, “There’s no need to let him know exactly who your official backer is. Let it remain vague. That way, should he ever need something from you, he’ll come in person.”