The origins of early Ming Dynasty Japanese pirates had distinctive characteristics.
Most so-called “Japanese pirates” weren’t actually Japanese, but they weren’t exactly Ming people either—they were mostly a group of marginalized people ruthlessly crushed by history’s great wheel.
The reason for this is motherless—a long story. In the past, Ming Emperor Gaozhu Zhu Yuanzhang divided Jiangnan with Wu King Zhang Shicheng and Han King Chen Youliang. Zhu Yuanzhang first destroyed Chen Youliang and even seized his favorite consort Lady Da, cuckolding the Han King, only to later be counter-cuckolded by Lady Da plotting revenge.
Zhu Yuanzhang later destroyed Wu King Zhang Shicheng. Xu Da and Chang Yuchun besieged Suzhou for three months until Zhang Shicheng committed suicide. Chang Yuchun massacred half the city before being stopped by Xu Da, and the Wu Kingdom fell.
However, though Wu was destroyed, Zhang Shicheng’s remnant forces remained powerful, mostly escaping overseas. Since Zhang Shicheng himself had risen as a private salt dealer with strong military forces, he had partnered with Shen Xiu (Shen Wanshan, ancestor of female official Shen Qionglian) in international trade to become wealthy. He was essentially a great maritime merchant who maintained large private armies and secretly operated as pirates to suppress competitors, forming monopolies and creating a commercial empire with Shen Xiu that rivaled nations in wealth.
Merchants had money but low status. Like all merchants, when money could no longer satisfy him, he wanted to taste power—like future lighthouse nation presidents.
At that time, the Yuan Dynasty had lost actual control over Jiangnan due to Red Turban Army peasant uprisings everywhere, each fighting independently. This was a great opportunity to establish oneself as king.
The “Trump” Zhang Shicheng of the late Yuan began pursuing higher political aspirations, legitimizing himself with wealth in his left hand and private armies in his right, becoming a regional hegemon in Jiangnan. He proclaimed himself Wu King with his capital in Suzhou. His startup buddy Shen Xiu continued international trade, funneling money to Zhang Shicheng and becoming the richest man of the late Yuan.
Since Zhang Shicheng had deep foundations in overseas trade and piracy, when Wu fell, Zhang Shicheng’s overseas remnants still possessed both wealth and private armies. They fled overseas, similar to how Old Chiang later escaped to Taiwan, waiting for opportunities to counterattack the mainland and restore Wu.
The enemy’s enemy is an ally. Later, Zhang Shicheng’s overseas remnants absorbed forces from Han King Chen Youliang’s remnants, forming an alliance. Initially their purpose was simple—counterattacking the mainland to reclaim power. But as the new Ming regime stabilized, hope was lost.
Later, with the addition of pirates and bankrupt Japanese wandering samurai, those close to ink become black. This group lost their political goals, their wealth was nearly exhausted, and the Ming court repeatedly suppressed them. In desperation, they joined forces with pirates and Japanese raiders, degenerating into robbers who pillaged homes and murdered for money.
Those dying under their blades changed from Ming armies to innocent civilians. This marginalized group, too ashamed to face their former neighbors, simply shaved their hair and changed clothes, adopting pirate moon-shaped haircuts and wearing Japanese-style bath robes with bare legs, becoming “Japanese pirates.” This way, they weren’t betraying their ancestors and felt no guilt killing their compatriots.
Being “Japanese pirates” became their profession. Their descendants were marginalized people recognized neither by Ming nor recognizing Ming themselves. They were more cold-blooded and violent than their parents, treating murder, arson, and robbery as casually as eating and sleeping, earnestly working as professional pirates.
Therefore, early Ming pirates always revived like spring grass because most weren’t actually overseas Japanese but people familiar with local terrain, wind patterns, and customs, with secret bases both domestically and overseas, even deeply embedded among civilians, marrying and having children, appearing no different from ordinary people on the surface.
When the court sent forces to suppress pirates, they would hide when defeated, like hibernating, emerging to terrorize coastal areas once the heat died down.
By the Yongle era, with the court focused on the Jiaozhi campaign in the southwest and Emperor Yongle’s three personal northern expeditions against the Oirats, pirates recuperated and became rampant again in recent years.
Pirates were experienced criminal organizations with informants at major ports and merchant ships, marking fat “prey” in advance.
According to informant intelligence, this large merchant ship carried extremely valuable cargo including Liaodong ginseng, Mongolian furs, Korean pearls, and Suzhou silk. Additionally, there was a young merchant heir new to business, still wet behind the ears, accompanied by his wet nurse (female escort) and carrying many trunks. Though they hadn’t determined the specific contents, judging from how respectfully the servants treated the young master, he was probably the family’s only son—a fat sheep. Beyond the cargo, kidnapping him for ransom would surely extort considerable money.
Thus, the large ocean ship became walking fat meat in the pirates’ eyes. Watching the ship sail far from port beyond the harbor garrison’s protection, they immediately swarmed like locusts.
Pirates were organized and planned. They first shot arrows as warning—if merchants surrendered obediently and paid to avoid disaster, they wouldn’t need to fight. Pirates had principles too. If they lost both people and money by going too far, it would be disadvantageous long-term. Merchants were like leeks—harvest one crop while leaving roots, then harvest again when new leaves grew.
But the large ship, relying on superior numbers, didn’t show weakness by raising white flags. Instead, they closed doors and windows and organized resistance.
The pirates’ gunboat followed for a second attack.
The ship captain was also ruthless, calmly commanding the merchant ship to return fire while assuring the six merchants: “Gentlemen needn’t worry. We use the most advanced Folangji cannons with longer range than the pirates’ crude guns. If they want to fight, let’s fight—who’s afraid of whom?”
Ship owners had long experience fighting pirates and were well-prepared.
Both ships exchanged fire. The merchant ship fired ten consecutive shots, sinking the pirate gunboat and forcing pirates to jump into the sea, where they were rescued by several flat-bottomed boats with mat-woven sails.
A’Lei was taken by the female escort to the relatively safe lower cargo hold for protection. Not knowing the battle situation outside, she only heard continuous booming like New Year fireworks.
After the pirate gunboat was sunk, over ten small flat-bottomed sailing vessels retreated about a hundred meters in all directions, surrounding the sailing merchant ship like a pack of wolves, maintaining distance but refusing to leave.
Victorious, A’Lei moved from the cargo hold to the main cabin to discuss strategy with five merchants and the captain.
The Liaodong ginseng merchant was very anxious: “I’m carrying my entire fortune in ginseng this trip. If robbed, I’ll only be able to beg for food on my way home. Captain, your Folangji cannons are so powerful—why not blast those small boats? Seeing those fierce pirates makes me nervous. We must find a way to drive them off.”
“My father died at pirates’ hands—I hate them most in life. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t.” The captain shook his head. “The boats are too small and distant, like trying to hit a mosquito with a stick—not only inaccurate but wasteful of ammunition.”
The silk merchant asked: “Knowing they can’t beat us, why won’t they leave?”
The captain said: “Thieves don’t return empty-handed, especially after losing a gunboat. Pirates want to force us to give some silver—if they can’t win, they’ll at least harass and frighten us.”
The ginseng merchant from the north was unfamiliar with the area and very afraid: “Why not give them some silver to send them away? Lose small money to avoid big disaster—it’s a good deal.”
The captain firmly disagreed: “My family has fought pirates for three generations. They’re greedy and bully the weak while fearing the strong. The more weakness you show, the more rampant they become. Since we can beat them, why give them silver? Let them follow—when the tide rises and waves come, small boats can’t handle the turbulence and will naturally scatter.”
A sailor ran in saying: “Pirates sent someone to negotiate.”
Everyone looked out the windows. A’Lei immediately felt like getting chili in her eyes—on the sea ahead, a pirate with a half-moon haircut was rowing a small sampan, naked as a newborn baby.
The ginseng merchant clicked his tongue: “Truly immoral.”
The captain said coldly: “Pirates do this to show they’re carrying no weapons and came to negotiate.”
Soon, the sailor brought the pirates’ letter. Reading it, the pirates demanded fifty taels of silver—pay and they’d leave without further disturbance.
The ginseng merchant said: “Fifty taels isn’t much—treat it like giving to beggars. What do you all think?”
The silk merchant looked moved.
The captain said: “Gentlemen must stay firm—this is psychological warfare, testing us.”
The ginseng merchant grew anxious: “Fine, I’ll pay this silver myself. Whatever the outcome, I’ll bear responsibility. What if they really withdraw?”
The captain refused: “On my ship, you follow my orders. You’re not giving silver, sir—you’re playing with fire.”
The situation deadlocked. A’Lei asked: “Captain, are there Ming naval patrols nearby? If we signal for help and court naval forces rescue us, they’ll surely drive off these pirates.”
A’Lei was after all a wealthy young lady who first thought of the court, relying on official solutions when encountering problems.
The captain shook his head: “There used to be, but recently because Eunuch Zheng He is voyaging west again, ships from everywhere are gathering at Liujiagang with various treasures. To protect foreign envoys and the Liujiagang fleet’s safety, Ming naval forces are concentrated patrolling near Liujiagang. We’re still a day’s sailing from Liujiagang—even if we signal, they can’t see us.”
Hearing this, the ginseng merchant shouted: “Try signaling anyway—what if we’re lucky?”
The captain was hawkish: “No. Signaling shows weakness—these pirates bully the weak and fear the strong. They might think of other ways to storm the ship.”
The ginseng merchant said: “Why should we all listen to one person? We six paid so much for passage—we should decide. Those agreeing to pay silver for negotiation, raise your hands!”
The Korean pearl merchant raised his hand.
Four to two. Everyone still trusted the experienced hawkish captain more.
The captain went to the deck and shouted at the naked pirate standing on the sampan: “Scram! No silver, but plenty of cannons!”
The captain knew these pirate-dressed people were basically Ming people who could understand, saving even ink and paper.
Negotiations broke down.
The completely naked pirate wasn’t angry, rowing his sampan away.
Suddenly, while the captain’s attention was on the sampan pirate’s bare back—this man had a very lifelike dragon tattoo—the message-bearing sailor leaped like a monkey and slashed the captain’s throat!
The captain’s neck spurted blood. The change came too quickly. After succeeding, the sailor immediately jumped into the sea to escape. Everyone shot arrows at the water, but never saw the sailor surface after being hit—he actually escaped.
The sailor was a pirate spy planted on the merchant ship.
The captain died on the spot.
Witnessing this, everyone truly understood the pirates’ cold-blooded brutality and cunning calculations—they were no ordinary rabble.
With the hawkish captain dead, his deputy took over, but clearly lacked the captain’s deterrent power. The ship fell into panic and chaos.
The ginseng merchant wanted to negotiate with pirates—pay money to avoid disaster.
The local silk merchant opposed: “If pirates were confident of taking us, they would have acted long ago. Why go through elaborate schemes to buy off the sailor and eliminate the captain first? They’re deliberately making us panic. You give fifty taels, they’ll accept it but not retreat, then demand five hundred taels, gradually increasing until they take all cargo and perhaps even people—”
The silk merchant pointed at A’Lei: “This young master clearly comes from money. If they kidnap you, your family would pay at least ten thousand taels ransom.”
A’Lei looked helplessly at the sky. Brother-in-law’s doting had led to packing like moving house, resulting in being targeted by pirates. Had she known this, she wouldn’t have expected good intentions to cause trouble.
Both sides deadlocked again when a sailor rushed in reporting: “Twenty-seven gunboats are approaching! Plus nearly a hundred flat-bottomed boats! Pirates had already marked us—today they’re going all out. We’re surrounded!”
Everyone took telescopes to look out windows—indeed so. Now surrounded by wolves in the open sea with nowhere to escape.
The naked pirate came to negotiate again: surrender and live, pay and live, resist and die.
The merchant ship couldn’t stand alone against the pirates and had to surrender. A’Lei became a captive, crowded with others in a small boat.
The pirate smiled: “Even pirates have principles—you surrendered, so we won’t kill. You’re our bread and butter—how could we harm our providers? That would be utterly unfilial! We heard the court recently sent people to exterminate us. After this job, we’ll scatter and hide to avoid the heat. Our livelihood for the rest of the year depends on help from you providers.”
“We invite you providers to be guests on our island for a few days with good food and drink—we won’t harm you. You providers need only do one thing: write a family letter asking your families to prepare ten thousand taels ransom. Pay money, get people back.”
Sailing into the night, A’Lei and others were brought by pirates to an island and locked in a room. Pirates bolted the door from outside and frightened them: “The island has many venomous snakes and insects. Pythons thicker than my waist—don’t think of escaping, fathers, or you’ll end up in snake bellies and the ten thousand taels will be wasted.”
Then they brought ink, paper, and brushes, demanding letters.
A’Lei picked up her brush to write but faced difficulty addressing the letter. Writing “Hu Residence, Capital” would expose her identity as an official’s daughter, possibly leading to murder by pirates. What to do?
While pondering, suddenly a tremendous boom shook the earth, making even ink ripple in the inkstone.
Someone screamed: “Court agents are setting fires on the island!”
Pirates rushed to investigate and were stunned: the twenty-plus gunboats in the harbor had become a sea of fire, cannons exploding from heat with burning fragments falling on flat-bottomed boats, igniting their lowered mat sails. These materials were naturally flammable—almost all vessels became fire ships in an instant!
Mantis catches cicada, oriole waits behind.
Zhu Zhanji’s strategy was excellent. He’d deliberately held back these two months, learning the pirates’ background and patterns. Since the Youth Army wasn’t skilled in naval warfare and couldn’t attack directly at sea, he devised a plan to strike their lair. While pirates went all-out to rob the merchant ship, he’d already hidden on the island, waiting for their return before burning their ships.
Without ships, escape was impossible. Fixing the battlefield on land where the Youth Army excelled, they could annihilate the pirates completely.