Dozens of crouching tiger cannons fired simultaneously, and even before the sulfurous smoke from the muzzles had dissipated, the thunderous boom of the cannons shook the heavens and earth.

Looking at the wrecked ships in the gorge, planks and splinters burst apart, and vessels that had barely been holding together began taking on water from all sides, listing and sinking with the wind and waves.

Seeing their warships beyond saving, the Japanese pirates abandoned their boats and leaped into the water, attempting to swim to the rocky shores and seize whatever slim chance at survival remained.

If even ships could not withstand the ravages of the surging tide, how much less could flesh and blood.

Even those well-versed in swimming, who knew how to move with the waves, found few who could escape the undercurrents and whirlpools.

Thirty-foot white waves, eighty-foot tides — atop the cresting swells, the Japanese invaders were like ants whose nest had been destroyed, thrown into utter chaos.

The cannon fire was deafening, yet not a single one of the onlooking civilians on shore covered their ears. Instead, they cheered and leaped for joy with each blast, shouting for the cannons to fire even louder, as if New Year’s had come early.

An endless stream of people poured out from the city, gathering along the shore to watch from afar. Common folk who had not so much as a blade to their names — who in the past could only tremble at the sight of Japanese ships — finally had the chance to stand tall and proud today.

The people then turned their gazes toward the ships outside Fengwei Gorge, carefully trying to identify which vessel belonged to their own clan, their faces filled with pride.

“The one by Wangri Rock — do you see it? That’s our Qi Family Hall’s great ship. She’s a full eight hundred liao.”

“Look at that one with the double-layered hard sails — what a sight! Our family’s Fifth Brother and Seventh Brother are both aboard that ship.”

“On the way home later, we’ll have to buy some good wine and food.”

“Listen to you — if we’re celebrating tonight, it’ll be on Jiahe Island. The sailors and crew won’t be home so quickly.”

Once the crouching tiger cannons fell silent, the crowd was still not satisfied. This battle held extraordinary meaning for the common people, for the three great clans of Shuang’an Prefecture had all taken part — the Japanese pirates could not only be defeated, but were being defeated with the people’s own participation.

With their ships destroyed and their crew dead, the Japanese pirates had been stripped of all fighting capability. This battle was a great victory, and they had now entered the final stage of clearing the battlefield.

“Is Pei Zhizhou satisfied with this battle?” Yan Chengzhao asked.

Pei Shaohuai shook his head and said: “Though we won, it is not yet cause for pride.”

He murmured: “These petty eastern barbarians — their ships dared to enter the sea in a ‘crane-wing formation.’ How utterly brazen, and yet it shows all too well how weak the coastal defenses of Jiahe Island once were.” So weak that the Japanese pirates had dared to act without a shred of restraint.

The crane-wing formation was a great provocation.

Just think — if the garrison from a few months ago had been the one defending against this Japanese incursion, what fighting strength would they have had?

Da Qing was more than just Jiahe Island. The road ahead was long and the burden heavy.

Yan Chengzhao considered the matter from a different angle, and replied: “Since it is difficult to strengthen all coastal garrisons at once, it would be better to strike at the source of the trouble.” With the source of trouble gone, there would naturally be no trouble at all.

The Japanese could come; Da Qing could naturally go to them as well.

After this battle, Yan Chengzhao seemed to grow more interested in naval warfare. What made a talented commander was that certain qualities were innate — fearlessness, calm, and a love of battle.

In some respects, Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao were a very fitting pair, each making up for what the other lacked.

“Yan Commander has great ambitions,” Pei Shaohuai said in praise. It was indeed a fine approach.

Inside Fengwei Gorge, the lighter-hulled sekibune either capsized or were torn apart. But the largest atakebune, with its heavy build, had weathered the cannon fire, and now lay listing to one side, stubbornly holding on against the wind and waves — it had not sunk.

There were likely still survivors aboard.

The battle had begun in the afternoon and ceased at dusk. From early in the wei hour to the end of the shen hour — a full two hours — the great tide finally came to an end, and Fengwei Gorge slowly returned to calm.

Yan Chengzhao intended to lead his men aboard the atakebune to have a look, and asked: “Would Pei Zhizhou like to come up and see?”

Pei Shaohuai declined, and said with a smile: “Pei is nothing more than a frail and bookish civil official — I would not wish to get in Yan Commander’s way.”

Iron hooks locked onto the atakebune, the two ships pulled broadside together, and a long ladder was set in place.

Yan Chengzhao stepped aboard the atakebune, dressed in a commander’s armor but without his red-plumed phoenix-wing helmet, a few loose strands of hair stirring in the wind.

“Search! Do not leave a single breathing soul.”

Just as Yan Chengzhao was issuing orders on the deck, a long chain of linked hand grenades came flying, their fuses already lit.

In that instant, a figure burst from one of the side cabins, clutching a steel sword, charging straight at Yan Chengzhao — he had recognized Yan Chengzhao as the commander.

The Japanese pirate lunged with full force, leaping three feet into the air, and brought the sword crashing down at his head.

Every man who had boarded the ship, including Yan Chengzhao, had come from the Southern Embroidered Uniform Guard, each one quick to react and nimble in body, without the slightest trace of fear.

One man used a long-handled spear to flick the chain of hand grenades, redirecting the momentum in midair and sending them into the sea. Only a few muffled thuds were heard as large bubbles of thick dark smoke gurgled up from the water’s surface, and when the wind blew over, there came a sharp smell of sulfur.

As for Yan Chengzhao — he stepped back and to the side, letting the sword tip pass, and when the Japanese pirate swung again, Yan Chengzhao raised his embroidered spring sword scabbard with one hand, blocking it squarely against the hilt of the pirate’s blade, preventing it from descending another fraction of an inch.

In the deadlock, the Japanese pirate’s eyes were stretched wide with fury as he poured out a torrent of unintelligible sounds, straining with every ounce of his strength. Yan Chengzhao’s hand showed only the faint swelling of veins on the back of his hand.

Even if the Japanese pirate leaped ten feet higher, or if his steel sword were three feet longer, he would still have no chance of besting Yan Chengzhao.

Seeing he had no hope of killing Yan Chengzhao and noticing others closing in around him, the pirate decisively spat, sheathed his sword, and scrambled backward in a rapid retreat.

Yan Chengzhao caught sight of the pirate raising his blade — point turned toward his own abdomen — preparing to commit ritual self-disembowelment. In that instant, Yan Chengzhao snatched the bow and arrow from his deputy’s hands, and in less time than it takes to draw breath, pulled the bowstring taut and released — the arrow knocked the steel sword from the pirate’s grip and drove straight through his palm, pinning it to the ship’s wall.

Several men rushed forward and restrained the pirate.

It was only then that everyone noticed the pirate’s attire — he wore a black helmet with a crescent-shaped iron plate welded to the front, resembling the antennae of an insect. An iron face guard covered his face, leaving only a pair of blazing red eyes exposed, and his body was clad in light armor made of iron plates strung together with cord.

Compared to those pirates in straw sandals and short pants, the one before them seemed to be a man of some standing.

Yan Chengzhao used a long spear to pry off the pirate’s helmet and face guard — whether through a failure to control the force or by intent — and the spear tip scraped away a thick layer of rouge powder, leaving a bloody gash across the pirate’s face.

Without his helmet, the Japanese pirate revealed his “moon-top” hairstyle — the crown of his head shaved while the hair at the back was gathered into a topknot — which made his appearance all the more fierce and savage.

The pirate thrashed about like a wild animal, trying to break free, and struggled against Yan Chengzhao with reckless desperation.

Yan Chengzhao did not spare him another glance, and said with cool indifference: “Take him back. Guard him well. Do not let him die too easily.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the entire ship was searched from bow to stern, a few more survivors were found — though far more had taken their own lives.

Yan Chengzhao recalled Pei Shaohuai’s words — “Could such a well-disciplined fleet truly be nothing more than wandering ronin and samurai from Japan?” If these men had truly taken to the seas simply to survive as ronin, would they have taken their own lives so decisively?

On the other side, the remaining soldiers of the Jiahe Guard stood watch on the shore, keeping a vigilant eye on the sea’s surface, strictly guarding against any surviving Japanese pirates washing ashore.

Living men were rarely seen; floating corpses drifted by in numbers.

Before long, several large vessels came sailing in at an unhurried pace from the north along the coast of Shuang’an Bay — one glance was enough to tell they were fuchuan, and official-built fuchuan at that.

Bao Bantou walked over and spoke in a low voice behind Pei Shaohuai: “My lord, they look like ships from the Quanzhou Zhenhai Guard.” He was warning Pei Shaohuai to be on his guard.

Not coming early, not coming late — they chose to arrive precisely when the mess was being cleaned up. Their intentions were clearly not good.

Pei Shaohuai replied: “I understand.”

He thought to himself: You watched a fine show from up north, and only come over now that the wind and waves have settled. That is quite the cunning calculation — even a theater house charges for tea. After a battle of this scale, should you not pay something for the show?

The ships docked on shore, and an official in his forties or fifties disembarked, dressed in crimson official robes with a cloud-and-wild-goose rank badge on his chest.

A senior fourth-rank civil official — Prefect Xie of Quanzhou, Xie Jia.

The ease with which Prefect Xie had sailed here in high and mighty fashion aboard the Zhenhai Guard’s warship was itself a detail quite worth pondering.

His entourage then walked toward the tent camp. As the distance closed, Prefect Xie was composing his expression, and inside the tent, Pei Shaohuai was composing his as well.

In no time, Prefect Xie was only a dozen or so steps from the tent, yet Pei Shaohuai still made no move to come out and “respectfully receive” him.

Prefect Xie’s face fell slightly, but there was nothing he could do about it — he could only take smaller, slower steps, and the entourage behind him followed suit in slowing their pace.

It was only when the distance had narrowed to five or six steps that Pei Shaohuai finally lifted the tent flap and stepped out at an unhurried pace, speaking as he walked: “Prefect Xie has come, and I failed to greet you sooner.” There was not the slightest hint of flattery in his tone, and he used the word “I” in its official sense.

Prefect Xie looked Pei Shaohuai up and down, gauging his age, but said nothing.

He held up the hem of his official robes and affected the appearance of someone who had traveled far and hard, manufacturing a look of genuine embarrassment on his face, sighing several times as he said: “I and my men arrived too late…”

Pei Shaohuai could already predict what would come next — nothing more than lines such as “Quanzhou and Shuang’an are neighboring prefectures; we naturally ought to help one another, and Quanzhou should have contributed to the fight against the pirates” and “We are all servants of Da Qing — new branches and old bamboo, old trunks supporting one another” — so as to put on a show, wash his hands of the affair, and avoid being held to account by the court.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help you fight the pirates — I simply received word too late and arrived after the fact.

A veteran slippery official through and through.

Pei Shaohuai knew full well what was coming, and gave Prefect Xie no chance to finish his speech. Seizing on the moment when Prefect Xie paused to build up sentiment, he cut in and said: “Prefect Xie need not worry — the pirate threat has already been quelled. I and Yan Commander of the Jiahe Guard were conducting naval drills with our ships and crew today when we happened to encounter them, and so we took the opportunity to warm up against these pirates.”

It sounded a touch arrogant, but there was nothing wrong with the words up to that point.

Only then did Pei Shaohuai’s tone shift, drawing Quanzhou Prefecture into the matter. He said: “These Japanese ships intended to sail north through Shuang’an Bay, hoping to catch the Zhenhai Guard off guard and harass the people of Quanzhou Prefecture — what brazen nerve! Since their ships passed through Shuang’an Bay, how could Shuang’an Prefecture stand aside and look the other way?”

In one stroke, he established that the Japanese pirates had been heading north to attack Quanzhou — not Shuang’an.

Prefect Xie’s face darkened several shades more. He had never imagined that Pei Shaohuai would be even more “slippery” than himself — it was clear that he was trying to push the blame for the pirate trouble onto Quanzhou Prefecture.

Pei Shaohuai had taken all the credit, while leaving Quanzhou Prefecture to clean up what came after.

Prefect Xie was unwilling to accept this, and opened his mouth: “That is…”

Pei Shaohuai cut him off again, stepped forward, and took Prefect Xie by both hands as though they were old friends, and said: “Prefect Xie need not stand on ceremony. We are both officials of Da Qing. As the old saying goes, ‘new branches and old bamboo, old trunks supporting one another’ — yet there are times when new branches support the old bamboo. What is more, Quanzhou and Shuang’an are neighboring prefectures and should naturally help one another. In the matter of fighting the Japanese pirates, which touches upon the very fate of Da Qing, Shuang’an Prefecture will not stand idle.”

He had taken the other man’s own prepared speech and used it first, leaving him with nothing left to say.

“The Japanese pirates were heading into Shuang’an Bay — they could not possibly have been attacking Quanzhou. I fear Pei Prefect’s words are quite mistaken,” Prefect Xie finally managed to open his mouth and pushed back.

Could something straight really be argued into being crooked?

“Why couldn’t they have been attacking Quanzhou? After all, the people of Shuang’an are poor — there is little in the way of property at home here, far less than in Quanzhou Prefecture.” Pei Shaohuai said, implying Shuang’an had nothing worth plundering, and then added: “This is intelligence that the Southern Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander and Jiahe Guard Commanding Officer Yan obtained through his investigations. I would imagine it would not be fabricated.”

Yan Chengzhao, just descending from the atakebune, gave an enormous sneeze.