Chapter 1156: Let’s Discuss Trade
An explosive shell ripped through the deck of the British galleon, plunging into its hold.
A moment later, it detonated with a thunderous roar, showering the British vessel with terrifying shrapnel. Though the British sailors fought with reckless bravery, death remained their undeniable fate.
After a chorus of agonizing screams, everyone in that compartment fell.
Meanwhile, the cannonballs fired by John Weddell’s fleet slammed into the hull of the Wanli Sunshine, yet merely left tiny dents before ricocheting away and splashing harmlessly into the sea.
“Bloody hell! What kind of ship is that?!” John Weddell was utterly dumbfounded. His Portuguese translator aboard the ship trembled in terror, stammering, “A treasure ship, it must be one of the legendary treasure ships! The secret art of the mysterious Eastern empire!”
John Weddell snapped, infuriated, “Secret art my arse! Don’t you Portuguese know anything about science?!”
The translator shot back, “Then tell me, what science is that?!”
John Weddell stared blankly for a long moment. “Is it... the power of a god?”
The translator, now utterly incensed, retorted, “Science? Don’t you dare utter that word!”
Under this relentless barrage, John Weddell’s fleet was battered beyond recognition, suffering devastating losses.
“Admiral,” one of his officers cried, “if we keep fighting like this, we’re doomed!”
“We must board them!”
“But they have twelve ships, and we only have five. We’d be at a severe disadvantage in a boarding action.”
“Then we flee...” John Weddell finally made the only logical decision.
However, escape was already out of the question.
The moment John Weddell signaled his intent to flee, turning his ship’s bow, the opportunity vanished.
From the other side, Shi Lang and Zheng Sen issued orders almost simultaneously: “Full speed ahead! Block their escape routes!”
The Wanli Sunshine, an electric vessel, merely needed a gear shift to instantly reach maximum speed.
Meanwhile, on the steam paddlewheeler, Little White Three, the stokers furiously shoveled coal into the boilers. The ship’s chimney belched a thick plume of black smoke, and its large steam whistle let out a prolonged, mournful wail as its speed slowly began to pick up.
The two ships, one leading the other, rapidly accelerated, cutting off John Weddell’s path with a swift surge.
“Fire!”
“Open fire!”
The two fleets once again exchanged furious cannon fire.
The cannonballs continued to bounce off the Wanli Sunshine’s hull, while only one struck Little White Three’s side, punching a sizable hole through it.
John Weddell’s side, however, suffered immensely. High-explosive shells ravaged his ships; any direct hit meant several sailors instantly killed by the blast.
Under such a one-sided assault, even soldiers from an empire in its prime would find their morale shattered.
The British sailors began to panic, succumbing to fear and confusion. Chaos erupted across their decks.
“There’s no escape!”
“Our path forward is blocked, and our retreat is cut off.”
“At this point, we must surrender. Surrender might allow us to survive through diplomacy. If we continue fighting, we’ll all perish.”
Soon, John Weddell raised the white flag.
An hour later.
Humen Fortress.
Kai Long, a director from the Ministry of Rites’ Bureau of Receptions in the Great Ming Dynasty, sat in the central chair. To his left and right were numerous civil and military officials. Zheng Zhilong, Shi Lang, and Zheng Sen were among the military officers, standing beside the Regional Commander of Guangdong, observing the impending pronouncement.
Kai Long addressed the dejected John Weddell: “On behalf of the Great Ming imperial court, I now command you, ‘Red-Haired Barbarians,’ to compensate our nation for the losses incurred during this conflict, and to immediately depart from the waters of the Great Ming. You are forbidden to return henceforth.”
As arrogant as John Weddell had been upon arrival, he was now utterly submissive. Head bowed, he meekly replied, “I understand. I will immediately return thirty-five cannons, thirty pigs, and compensate your esteemed nation with twenty-eight thousand silver yuan.”
Kai Long, pleased, tossed out a curt, “Very well!”
John Weddell was now under complete control, unable to arrange the war reparations himself. He could only contact a merchant named Paul, who would then reach out to the East India Company to procure the necessary funds for compensation.
This entire process would likely take at least one or two months to complete.
During this period, John Weddell would remain a prisoner, left to experience the bitter tears of captivity in Guangzhou.
With a slump of his shoulders and immense frustration, he was escorted into a cell by soldiers and locked away.
After enduring a long, uneventful stretch of boredom inside, he suddenly heard the guards at the door speaking to someone. However, they were speaking in Chinese, and John Weddell couldn’t understand a single word.
A short while later, the door creaked open.
Two middle-aged men entered, accompanied by two youths.
The guards at the door retreated to a distant corner, evidently under strict orders not to eavesdrop.
The two middle-aged men were Zheng Zhilong and Zheng Zhihu, while the two youths were Shi Lang and Zheng Sen.
The four sat down before John Weddell.
John Weddell felt a stir of unease. What could these people possibly want to discuss with him?
Zheng Zhilong spoke, his words in Dutch: “Do you understand Dutch?”
John Weddell’s heart skipped a beat. This man spoke Dutch, and quite well at that.
He replied, “I understand.”
Zheng Zhilong nodded. “Good. Let’s converse in Dutch, then. I only know a little English, and I’m not particularly skilled at it.”
Though he claimed to be unskilled, John Weddell was already somewhat astonished. He had always believed this decaying Eastern empire remained closed off, lacking individuals of great talent. Yet, this middle-aged man was fluent in multiple languages, easily rivaling the elites of the Western world.
Zheng Zhilong continued, “The imperial officials want you gone, and they forbid the British from engaging in trade here again.”
John Weddell nodded glumly. “Indeed.”
Zheng Zhilong leaned forward. “However, I, this general, believe the court’s approach is unreasonable.”
John Weddell’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh?”
Zheng Zhilong explained, “Trade, after all, benefits everyone.”
John Weddell was utterly astonished, more bewildered than he had ever been. *This was simply insane!* He had come here to provoke trouble and attack Humen Fortress precisely because the Portuguese controlled Macau, preventing him from trading there. To force the Great Ming court to grant him a port for commerce, he had deliberately caused this incident at Humen Fortress.
He had assumed that losing the battle meant any talk of trade was naturally off the table.
Yet, to his disbelief, after losing, someone was *still* coming to him to discuss it?
It was truly unbelievable!
Zheng Zhilong chuckled, then waved a hand. “Little Sen, you take over.”
Zheng Sen moved closer and greeted, “Hello, John Weddell!”
John Weddell frowned, surprised to find a child suddenly taking over the conversation. “Why the sudden change? And to a boy?”
Zheng Sen replied, “Though I am young, I am a Qianhu—a thousand-household commander—under the Coastal Regional Commander of the Great Ming.”
John Weddell gaped. “Indeed?”
Zheng Sen smiled. “Let’s discuss the matter of trade.”
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