Atop the island’s high city walls, gazing east, the boundless sea stretched without end.

Sea wind surged through the windows, and even the wine cups held tiny rippling waves.

Pei Shaohuai rose, standing with his hands clasped behind his back at the window, gazing eastward — he could see only a sinking, slanted moon hidden in sea mist, waves scattering fragments of golden light, the moonlight vague and blurred. He thought to himself: the sea above is unceasing waves; the sea below, hidden reefs ever forming. This stretch of sea before him was destined to be unsettled.

The sea is after all the sea — unlike the land with its mountains and rivers. So the greatest hardship Yan Chengzhao faced was different as well.

Pei Shaohuai said: “A navy without ships is like a land army without horses; a ship without cannons is like a soldier with no blade in hand.” Compared to Jiahe Guard’s shortage of troops, the shortage of warships and powerful cannons was an even harder problem.

Troops could be recruited by imperial order; warships and cannons could not be replenished in short order.

Yan Chengzhao sat at the wine table, pouring Pei Shaohuai’s empty cup full again while saying: “It seems Magistrate Pei had already anticipated all of this.”

First, ships.

A thousand-household station should be equipped with twenty large ships. In Jiahe Island’s military harbor, there were indeed twenty ships moored.

But most of the ships were old and in disrepair, long since decrepit and dilapidated. Even with the slightest wind and waves, creaking sounds could be heard throughout the ship. Such old vessels were barely sufficient for going out to fish, let alone chasing enemy forces at sea.

Only a scattered few ships were still reasonably sound, adequate for routine offshore patrol use.

Standing at the window, Pei Shaohuai could see right into the Jiahe Guard military harbor, where the ships bobbed with the waves. In the moonlight, the wood looked desiccated and withered.

Second, cannons.

The casting of firearms and cannons necessarily required Min iron — iron smelted in the northern regions used mostly coal and stone, yielding iron that was hard yet brittle; cannon barrels made from it cracked easily under the blast. Min region iron was smelted with charcoal fire, giving the iron more resilience and making it less prone to cracking.

Here in the Min region, Min iron was abundantly produced, yet firearms and cannon barrels were in the shortest supply of all. This was because weapons were under unified court administration and unified distribution.

Throughout successive dynasties, the court had always taken the northern frontier as the focus of defense, perpetually on guard against northern incursions from the south. Thus the majority of Min iron produced in the Min region was shipped north to the frontier, used to fortify the nine border passes. In “emphasizing” the northern frontier, the maritime frontier was naturally “neglected.”

Yan Chengzhao continued: “What the guard station lacks most is not troops to fire the cannons and kill enemies, but helmsmen who can steer the ships.”

Once a vessel put out to sea, in the boundless expanse of waves, the art of following the wind and navigating around hidden reefs depended entirely on the helmsman’s pair of eyes and pair of hands. An outstanding helmsman knew where offshore islands were suitable for anchorage, knew where hidden reefs required caution; a weighted line could gauge the water’s depth, and reading the sky could foretell whether wind and waves were changing… Such people could not be cultivated in a decade, let alone several decades.

The year Yan Chengzhao had led troops on a southern patrol, the Emperor had assigned him helmsmen from the Jiangyin, Guangyang, Henghai, and Naval Guards — with strong troops and many ships, he had of course never encountered such a headache. Now he administered a guard station converted from a thousand-household unit, and only now did he understand the hardship of “no rice in the pot, no firewood under the stove.”

“This is Jiahe Island, not Taicang Prefecture — you and I can no longer operate by the old methods.” Pei Shaohuai returned to the wine table and clinked cups with Yan Chengzhao, saying: “If it were a straightforward matter, why would it require the two of us to join forces?” The wine burned hot going down — these were not words of arrogance, but of spirit.

“Does Governor Pei have a plan?”

“Commander Yan has a secret imperial edict; I have an imperial sword. If we lack talent, we recruit talent; if we lack cannons, we cast cannons… does that count as a plan?”

These words were not in Pei Shaohuai’s usual style, yet they were things Pei Shaohuai could actually accomplish.

“And the warships?”

“Taicang Prefecture has a shipyard.”

A thought suddenly struck Yan Chengzhao — Pei Shaohuai had traveled south with his father on a study tour and revived the Taicang shipyard. Could it be that from that point on, he had already harbored the intention of opening the seas?

Before even entering government service, what had appeared to be a casually torn-open breach was, years later, a Taicang shipyard that had grown into a substantial operation. Such foresight could not help but inspire admiration.

“Is there a difficulty on the yamen side as well?” Yan Chengzhao asked.

He brought up something that had happened a few days prior.

A few days ago, Yan Chengzhao had intended to lead his troops out to sea for a training exercise, to help the troops from the capital get accustomed to the waters as quickly as possible. There was a small island to the northwest of Jiahe Island with a small bandit den on it, and Yan Chengzhao used this island for the training exercise.

Unexpectedly, after the ships moored and the troops landed on the island, they found that every last one of the bandits had already fled.

Yan Chengzhao said: “In this place, officials, gentry, troops, common people, merchants, and bandits have all merged into one body — you are in me and I am in you, intertwined with one another. Governor Pei, how do you intend to handle this?”

Without properly handling it, the seas could not be opened.

For instance: the common people regard the clan as supreme, and if the yamen cannot control the clan, it will be difficult to win the people’s trust. And for another instance: when leading troops to wipe out pirates, if the enemy at sword’s point happens to be of the same clan and same lineage, how could the soldiers bring themselves to strike with a merciless hand?

Pei Shaohuai’s answer was simple. He gently swirled his wine cup, watching the wine rotate within, and answered: “I believe that what the common people revere most is ‘to live’ and ‘to live better.’ Once they see hope, no one can hold them back. The complex web of relationships in this place all stems from the two words ‘sea ban.’ Remove the sea ban, and we will have only one enemy.”

He dipped some wine and wrote the character for “Japanese pirates” on the table.

Da Qing’s sea ban had stripped the Min people of their livelihood, forcing them to take desperate risks — and so there arose private merchants. Private merchants enriched the local gentry, and thus the gentry gained the power to rally people. The merchant fleets, in order to evade government pursuit and to resist robbery at sea, began to rely on the various factions at sea… This vicious cycle all originated in the “sea ban.”

Pei Shaohuai said: “So it is not so complicated after all.”

He continued: “Commander Yan might think of it this way — those wandering at sea, no matter how far the ship travels, no matter which island they find themselves on, a rope always ties back to Da Qing’s shore. As for those who have cut their own rope…” Pei Shaohuai smiled and said: “Who knows whether they are truly people of Da Qing?”

Who cared whether they were people of Da Qing.

With three rounds of wine behind them, both men had grown somewhat intoxicated, and they drank with ever greater abandon.

“This cup…” Pei Shaohuai clinked his cup against Yan Chengzhao’s and said: “For Heaven.”

Yan Chengzhao also replied: “For Heaven.”

Their eyes met, and both laughed — one drinking to Heaven as in “the realm under Heaven,” the other as in “the Son of Heaven.”

They clinked cups again. Pei Shaohuai patted his chest and said: “This cup, for what is here.” His conscience.

While Yan Chengzhao said: “For the desire to win.”

Still different.

Pei Shaohuai turned his gaze toward the boundless sea beyond the city walls, and clinked cups a third time, saying: “For the sea before our eyes right now — surely this time we are in agreement?”

Yan Chengzhao nodded.

“This sea is the sea of our great Da Qing, and should by rights bring blessings to the people of Da Qing. There is no room for outside powers to covet it even slightly, and still less for outsiders to stir up trouble here.” Pei Shaohuai drank down this last cup of wine.

The wine cups were empty, and the hour was no longer early.

Looking out again beyond the city walls, the full moon had risen into the sky. No longer obscured and blurred by sea mist, its gentle light draped over the entire boundless sea, reaching without end in every direction.

At that moment, the sound of light footsteps came from outside the room, and a small head peeked in — it was little Yi’er. Seeing that Pei Shaohuai was sitting across from her father, she stepped in with light and quick steps.

First she nestled against Yan Chengzhao’s side and called out “Uncle Pei,” then after thinking for a moment, asked in a soft, childish voice: “Uncle Pei, did you not bring Xiao Nan gege and Xiao Feng jiejie with you?”

It turned out that little Yi’er had heard that Uncle Pei had come, and had specially made her way over to see whether Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng had come along.

Pei Shaohuai shook his head and said gently: “Uncle came in too much of a hurry today. We’ll bring them over some other time.”

Yi’er looked a little disappointed, and raised her head to look at Yan Chengzhao, asking: “Then can Father take me to find Xiao Nan gege and Xiao Feng jiejie?”

She then added: “Tomorrow.”

Yan Chengzhao had every reason in the world to agree. He picked up his daughter and answered at once: “Father will take you to find them tomorrow.”