MLMD -Chapter 457 Landing

Before large-scale industrialization, casting artillery had always been an extremely difficult and time‑consuming task. At that time, bronze cannons were the mainstream of artillery around the world. This was because bronze had a relatively low melting point, good ductility, and was easy to process. Meanwhile, low‑carbon steel technology was still immature; cannons cast from steel could not withstand the increasingly high chamber pressures, and the steel of that era was almost as brittle as cast iron. Worse still, cast iron rusted very easily—especially aboard ships, where humidity and salinity were high. Cannons cast from bronze, however, not only had high hardness and good toughness but were also highly resistant to corrosion, possessing properties very close to those of modern steel. Thus, before the advent of built‑up guns and Rodman’s hollow‑core cooling technique, most countries in the world used bronze to manufacture artillery.

Given that bronze was an expensive metal in that era, even for the wealthy Dutch, artillery pieces were precious assets. Therefore, when Ouwede heard Zheng Yang mention purchasing fifty cannons, he was stunned.

“My God… do you know what you’re saying?”

The previously composed Ouwede gaped like a hippopotamus having a tooth pulled. Pointing at Zheng Yang, he exclaimed in shock, “Do you have any idea how much fifty cannons cost? The entire city of Zeelandia has fewer than sixty cannons in total! You ask for fifty in one breath—are you trying to carry off all of Zeelandia’s artillery?”

“This is necessary,” Zheng Yang replied calmly, his attitude unchanged. “Governor, you know very well that some time ago we fought a naval battle with the Shandong Fleet. In that battle, we lost more than a hundred warships, hundreds of cannons, and countless men. Our strength has been severely weakened; we are no longer capable of confronting the navy under the Loyal and Brave Marquis. You must understand—if it weren’t for your instigation from behind the scenes, our chief would never have dared to send out a fleet to obstruct his policy of opening the seas. Now that we’ve suffered such heavy losses, shouldn’t you compensate us?”

“That’s your problem!” Ouwede snapped angrily. “Have we given you too little support over the years? Without the backing of our country, could your fleet have expanded like blowing bubbles, growing to this scale in just three or four years? Without our support, could you have dominated the South Seas? And this time, the reason you suffered such losses is your own incompetence—over a hundred warships against fewer than forty, and you were almost wiped out! And you still have the nerve to blame us?”

“That’s what we deserve!” Zheng Yang shot back. “Yes, you’ve given us some support, but we haven’t taken anything for free. Every year, more than ten thousand Han people travel back and forth between Tayouan and the Ming. Without them, could you have turned these barren plains into fertile farmland? Could you have shipped back endless supplies of sugar, hemp, and grain to your homeland?”

Their voices grew louder as both sides accused each other. Finally, Zheng Yang lost patience and delivered an ultimatum.

“Governor, you need to understand something. I’m not here to beg for charity—I’m here to tell you a fact. If you don’t meet our demands, then starting tomorrow, we will suspend all cooperation with you. That includes sending settlers to Tayouan to farm the land and helping you intercept Shandong merchant ships. And when I return, I will advise our chief to find an opportunity to visit Shandong and seek reconciliation with the Loyal and Brave Marquis. All of this will be forced upon us by you.”

“Damn it—are you threatening me?” Ouwede’s face changed instantly.

Zheng Yang’s move struck right at his Achilles’ heel. Although the Dutch colonists constantly told the local natives that Han people were the most despicable and lazy in the world, both the colonists and the highland tribes understood that Tayouan’s development was inseparable from the Han. Without them, relying solely on the local natives to manage vast farmlands would be a fool’s dream. If the Zheng family truly cut off cross‑strait exchanges and prevented Han settlers from coming to Tayouan, the island would decline within a few years. Thinking of this, a cold gleam flashed in Ouwede’s eyes.

Facing Ouwede’s threatening gaze, Zheng Yang showed no fear at all. He said calmly, “Governor, if you consider this a threat, then so be it. You must understand that we are partners, not your slaves. This time, our losses were caused by you, and you must give us an explanation. Otherwise, don’t blame us for being unrestrained.”

With that, Zheng Yang stood up, straightened his clothes, and said indifferently, “That’s all. I’m going back to rest. I hope to receive your reply before I board my ship tomorrow. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what consequences may follow.”

He turned and strode out. As Zheng Yang exited the door, a clattering crash soon echoed from inside…

“That damned bastard! Those lowly Eastern savages—they dare threaten me, threaten the Governor of the great Dutch Empire! Do they not know that once the Dutch Empire is angered, it will burn them to ashes…!”

After venting his rage, Ouwede ultimately chose to yield. He could not afford the consequences of falling out with the Zheng family. If Tayouan’s development stagnated or regressed because of him, even after returning to Amsterdam, the furious company directors would drag him out and flay him alive.

“That bastard really knows how to give me trouble. Where am I supposed to scrape together fifty cannons now?” Ouwede’s head began to ache again.

While Ouwede was agonizing over the Zheng family’s fifty cannons, off the coast near Weihaiwei, ship after ship was gathering toward the docks.

Driven forward regardless of cost by Yue Yang, Weihaiwei had already built more than twenty shipyards and five large docks. He had also dispatched people to begin constructing docks and shipyards in Qingdao, Yantai, and other places, striving to put them into operation by next year.

Surrounded by Guo Jingxian, Shunbao, many naval commanders, and dozens of guards, Yue Yang arrived at the docks. Looking at the neat rows of warships and transport vessels, he nodded in satisfaction and turned to Guo Jingxian.

“You fought well in this naval battle. Even when outnumbered, you dared to take the initiative and attack—you displayed the might of our Weihaiwei Fleet. I hope you can maintain this style in the future. A navy is born to attack; its creed is to fight upon encountering the enemy. Even if you know you’re outmatched, you must not retreat. It’s like a swordsman meeting the world’s greatest swordmaster on the road—even knowing he can’t win, he must still draw his blade. A swordsman who dares not draw his sword is useless, no matter how sharp his blade or how high his skill. Do you understand?”

“Rest assured, Marquis, I understand!” Guo Jingxian saluted sharply and declared loudly, “The Weihaiwei Fleet can do anything—except be cowards!”

“Good.” Yue Yang nodded with satisfaction, then turned to Shunbao. “After transferring you here, veterans like Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei from the Xuan‑Da Army have had some complaints. So this time, you’d better fight well. Don’t drop the ball, or I won’t spare you.”

“Rest assured, Marquis. I will not disgrace you!”

Shunbao answered loudly, his heart filled with pride. This operation against Tayouan—no one else was sent, yet he was chosen. That proved how highly the young master valued him. Wu Chengfeng was busy preparing for his wedding; Hu Laosan had to guard Liaodong; Hu Dawei and Yang Guozhu had already returned to Xuan‑Da. Now he alone could serve as the vanguard again—such trust was one of a kind in the entire Xuan‑Da Army. After all, he had grown up as the young master’s bookboy. The thought filled him with delight.

Watching the ships shuttle back and forth like weaving shuttles at the docks, Yue Yang silently calculated: over the past two months, the shipyards had launched two third‑rate ships, six fourth‑rates, and ten fifth‑rates. Now the Weihaiwei Fleet possessed four third‑rate warships, thirteen fourth‑rates, sixteen fifth‑rates, and more than twenty Yan‑type ships. Even in a head‑on clash with the Zheng fleet, they would no longer be at a numerical disadvantage.

“By the way,” Yue Yang said to Mao Xiang, who had been silent beside him, “Bijiang, as the saying goes, provisions come before the army moves. Are our supplies ready?”

Mao Xiang nodded confidently. “Rest assured, Marquis. All provisions and supplies are prepared. We’ve requisitioned over two hundred ships to transport them—enough to support the army for half a month. If that’s not enough, we can return to resupply at any time.”

As he spoke, hurried footsteps sounded from behind. Soon, a man in brocade appeared, walked up to Yue Yang, raised an envelope with both hands, and announced, “Marquis, intelligence from Sichuan Division agents.”

“Bring it here.”

Chen Dazhi stepped forward, took the envelope, checked it, and then handed it to Yue Yang.

Yue Yang tore it open, skimmed the letter, and a cold gleam flashed in his eyes. He sneered, “So that’s it… No wonder the Zheng family suddenly dared to oppose us so brazenly—it turns out there’s a reason behind it.”

Seeing the severity on Yue Yang’s face, Shunbao asked curiously, “Marquis, what happened?”

Yue Yang handed over the letter. “Read it yourselves.”

After reading it, Guo Jingxian erupted in anger. “Zheng Zhilong! I thought your dealings with those red‑haired devils were merely commercial—but I never imagined the collusion ran this deep. Being a sea pirate is bad enough, but organizing coastal civilians to go to Tayouan to clear land for those red‑haired devils—this is aiding evil!”

Guo Jingxian had long harbored deep hatred toward Zheng Zhilong. Seeing such profound collusion, he flew into a rage.

Shunbao patted his shoulder. “Calm down, Old Guo. Once we’re done dealing with those red‑haired devils, Zheng Zhilong will be next.”

After a long silence, Yue Yang said, “Pass the order: in three days, the entire Weihaiwei Fleet will weigh anchor and sail for Tayouan!”

With a loud clatter, all the commanders snapped to attention and saluted in unison. “We obey!”

On the sixteenth day of the seventh month in the twelfth year of Chongzhen, Yue Yang led the Weihaiwei Fleet—fifty‑three warships and over one hundred thirty vessels including merchantmen and transports—toward Tayouan. Two days later, the fleet arrived outside the harbor of Zeelandia, near present‑day Tainan. When this mighty fleet appeared beyond the harbor, the entire city of Zeelandia fell into chaos.

When Ouwede rushed over upon hearing the news and saw the neatly arrayed fleet and the Sun‑and‑Moon banners fluttering atop the towering masts, his eyes went wide.

“Damn it… these are Ming warships! How could they suddenly come here—and how do they have so many large warships?”

Leading the formation were four massive third‑rate ships. Even from two or three li away, their immense hulls and dense artillery exuded an oppressive presence. Ouwede immediately recognized them as at least 1,500‑ton ships of the line. Even in the Dutch homeland, there were only a dozen such vessels, regarded as national treasures and permanently stationed at home—never sent to distant colonies. Yet here there were four at once.

“My God… couldn’t you let me step down peacefully?” Ouwede clutched his head and groaned. Glancing around, he saw terror etched on every face, including that of his adjutant, Lieutenant Colonel Bilia. He sighed inwardly—today’s battle would be very difficult to fight.

Standing on the deck of the newly commissioned third‑rate flagship, Yue Yang gazed at Zeelandia, crouching like a ferocious beast. He said to Guo Jingxian beside him, “Send word to the governor hiding in Zeelandia. I’ll give them half an hour. If they don’t surrender, we’ll attack.”

Two quarters of an hour later, an officer returned with Ouwede’s reply. “Marquis, the red‑haired barbarians talked a lot of nonsense but refused to surrender.”

“In that case, let us speak with cannon and musket,” Yue Yang said grimly.

Soon, under the cover of warships, transport vessels sailed into the harbor. Though two galleons and several merchant ships were anchored there, the Dutch aboard understood that resistance would be like an egg striking a stone. As soon as the Weihaiwei Fleet sealed off the harbor, they hoisted white flags atop their masts, becoming the first to surrender.

Transport ships docked one by one. Soldiers disembarked in formation. Clad in green uniforms and helmets, they quickly secured the docks.

Watching more and more soldiers appear, Ouwede’s face grew increasingly pale.

Lieutenant Colonel Bilia asked cautiously, “Governor, should we send some troops to probe them?”

“Probe what?” Ouwede snapped. “Do you see their warships and countless cannons? Do you want to send our boys to their deaths?” He then sighed in relief. “But fortunately, their cannons can’t reach here yet. Otherwise, we wouldn’t need to hold out—we could just surrender.”

An hour later, five thousand musketeers had fully disembarked and established a security perimeter several hundred meters from the docks. More transports followed, unloading supplies.

“Oh… what is that… My God… cannons!”

Peering through his spyglass, Ouwede’s eyes nearly popped out. On the docks, soldiers in green uniforms were unloading cannons from the ships. He could clearly see that the transports were equipped with long cranes, hoisting the heavy artillery and supplies ashore.

“Holy Mother Mary… did I make a terrible mistake just now?” Regret slowly took root in Ouwede’s heart.

“We can’t let the Ming troops unload so brazenly. We must test their combat strength,” Ouwede muttered. Beside him, Bilia rolled his eyes—he had suggested the same thing earlier, only to be flatly rejected.

Ignoring his adjutant’s thoughts, Ouwede grabbed him. “Don’t we still have several hundred native militia in the city? Send them out to test the enemy.”

“Very well, as you wish,” Bilia sighed and went down from the wall.

Soon, a ragged mob wielding knives and clubs rushed out of Zeelandia toward the Xuan‑Da troops assembling two li away. The sight startled Yue Yang and the others.

“What are they doing? Have they grown tired of living?” Shunbao exclaimed.

Lowering his telescope, Yue Yang sighed softly. “Judging by their clothing, they’re local natives—sent as cannon fodder. Since they’ve come, they won’t be leaving. Shunbao, tell the troops to leave none of them alive.”

With Yue Yang’s order, the fate of the five hundred natives was sealed. When they closed to within three hundred meters of the musketeers’ square, a piercing whistle rang out. Amid volleys of gunfire and clouds of white smoke, the natives—brandishing blades and spears—fell screaming into pools of blood…