Chapter 171: Zhu Cailao Attacks
Motivated by Wen Desi's promise to share the secrets of Western great ships, Shipwright Zhang threw himself into the rush work with infectious enthusiasm, carefully selecting his assistants for the task ahead. Wen Desi—whose interest in ancient shipbuilding was genuine rather than merely diplomatic—remained on site with Li Jun's platoon to observe the process firsthand. The Navy, meanwhile, displayed an entirely different kind of interest: the Fubo made regular visits every few days, and a steady stream of naval cadets shipped out to Baitu to serve as Zhang's temporary apprentices, gaining hands-on experience in the shipwright's craft. Though future shipwrights would eventually train in the Technical School, Navy leadership believed strongly in cultivating officers who truly understood ships from keel to mast—and if possible, they intended for future shipyards to fall under Navy control.
Wen Desi saw through their schemes easily enough, but his personal preferences gave him a natural bias toward the Navy's interests. He feigned ignorance and continued his cross-temporal technical exchanges with Shipwright Zhang.
What Wen Desi discovered was that Zhang embodied everything admirable about the traditional craftsman. Using nothing more than simple woodworking tools, he created ship models with remarkably accurate proportions and cleverly detachable parts. This was his trade secret: a method of scaling up from models to full-size vessels. Primitive perhaps, but undeniably effective. Wen Desi knew that European shipwrights had employed similar techniques, and that their "model-first" tradition had evolved from precisely this practice.
Zhang knew almost nothing of mathematics or geometry—his drafting skills amounted to little more than crude sketches. Yet he had memorized the dimensions, structures, and specifications of every ship type with perfect clarity. Wen Desi found himself genuinely impressed. Ancient Chinese craftsmen, often illiterate and untrained in formal mathematics, had nonetheless created wonders through generations of accumulated experience passed down from master to apprentice. It was a uniquely remarkable tradition.
Watching Zhang work with his models made Wen Desi's hands itch to try it himself. Since supervising construction proved a leisurely task with plenty of idle hours, he began building a schooner model of his own. A physical model, he reasoned, would make communicating complex concepts to Zhang far easier than words alone. As a lifelong survival prepper, he never traveled without tools, food, and weapons close at hand. With materials conveniently available, he started immediately.
Zhang was astonished to see a "learned person" like Wen Desi doing craftsman's work. In his world, educated men wielded only brushes—hands-on labor was beneath their dignity. Yet here was this scholar, happily working with wood and tools like any common artisan.
Every evening after work, Zhang visited Wen Desi's quarters to observe the Western model's progress. The two men exchanged techniques, and Wen Desi seized these opportunities to teach simple concepts of hull geometry and sail design.
While Wen Desi passed leisurely days building models at Baitu, the transmigrators at Bopu and Bairren found themselves growing busier with each passing hour. Endless projects demanded materials and labor, and as the Planning Committee commissioner responsible for daily operations, Ma Qianzhu had become the busiest person of all. Material allocation, labor coordination, inter-departmental relations—everything fell to him. Limited resources and inadequate manpower meant constant disputes over priorities, and these disputes inevitably became entangled with personal grudges that had formed in the chaotic days after D-Day. Feuds between group leaders evolved into broader inter-group conflicts. Every trivial matter sparked debates and arguments, and the commissioners spent half their time mediating.
Once, Xiao Zishan approached Ma Qianzhu with a furtive suggestion: confiscate all sidearms.
"Why?" Ma Qianzhu asked, bewildered. Given the dangerous situation, he wanted pistols distributed to everyone, not taken away.
"What if an argument escalates? What if someone acts impulsively—" Xiao Zishan made a gun-drawing gesture.
"Impossible," Ma Qianzhu dismissed him. "Zishan, are you becoming paranoid?"
Beyond his daily administrative duties, Ma Qianzhu also handled military matters in his role as Chief of Staff.
The successful Baitu operation had injected a shot of adrenaline into the entire group. The hand-trained New Army and hand-manufactured weapons had passed their first real combat test, and both the Industrial and Military branches were exhilarated. Decades of armchair strategizing had finally translated into an actual battlefield victory.
Ma Qianzhu did not share their excitement. Though he had been absent from the expedition, Xi Yazhou's detailed accounts had revealed numerous problems lurking beneath the surface. The Army was not nearly as strong as people imagined. Intensified training was the only solution. Over the Mechanical Department's strenuous objections, he prioritized ammunition production, and lead reserves plummeted as a result. Ji Situi warned him that the Chemistry Department's saltpeter stockpile was nearly exhausted—gunpowder production consumed vast quantities, and nitric acid production had ground almost to a halt.
"If we're defeated," Ma Qianzhu countered, "what use is surplus nitric acid?"
Ji Situi shrugged and let the matter drop. Ma Qianzhu understood perfectly well how critical nitric acid was to modern industry—but surrounded by enemies on all sides, militarization was unavoidable.
Zhu Cailao's peace offer, delivered via Shi Shisi, had produced no response whatsoever. Whether it meant war or peace remained unclear. Ma Qianzhu doubted whether that pirate captain had even bothered to deliver the message. The transmigrators knew frustratingly little about the various maritime groups operating in these waters. Intelligence from Guangzhou remained vague and fragmentary, leaving him thoroughly confused. The only useful information available was a brief compiled by the Intelligence Group from historical materials regarding Chongzhen Year 1 (1628) maritime group movements.
Today he was on duty at the Communications Center. Amid the chaotic chatter flooding the public channel, he resolved to finish this intelligence brief so he could begin drafting operational plans—work that should have fallen to a proper Staff Department, which unfortunately did not yet exist.
As their primary potential enemy, Zheng Zhilong had officially accepted amnesty in July, achieving legal status to control foreign trade along the coast. His former partner Li Kuiqi had since defected, ostensibly over "spoils disputes"—which almost certainly meant conflicts over trade profits.
Li Kuiqi's rebellion began in September: "Seized ships and betrayed, recruited outlaws, challenged Zhilong... December 9th, Kuiqi allied with Chen Shengyu, Zhong Liu (Zhong Bin), Zhou San and others—over four hundred vessels entered Old Wuyu for battle."
Li Kuiqi's rebel force was formidable. Reports claimed he had taken nearly all of Zheng's ships and weapons, leaving Zheng with "only dozens of ships and six hundred men." Judging from Li Kuiqi's ability to rally such support, his strength rivaled Zheng's own. But Ma Qianzhu doubted these numbers. If Zheng truly commanded only "dozens of ships and six hundred men," he could not possibly have sustained over a year of warfare against Li. Nor could he have signed a trade contract with the Dutch on October 1, 1628 as China's largest maritime group.
For the transmigrators, the Zheng-Li conflict was advantageous. At the very least, these two powerful forces would be too occupied fighting each other to attack Lingao. Whether the transmigrators eventually negotiated from a position of strength or sought peace through tribute, they faced only the Liu Xiang and Zhu Cailao groups as immediate threats.
This "only" still weighed heavily. Ma Qianzhu lowered the report with a sigh. From start to finish, there was precious little about actual military strength. Historical figures were vague approximations—essentially useless for planning purposes. How was he supposed to respond to threats he couldn't properly assess? It was understandable, of course. Military intelligence was hardly a historian's specialty. They would have to rely on the military's own intelligence-gathering capabilities. Building local agent networks had become urgent.
The Training Battalion was now established, the arms industry was growing steadily, and four fishing trawlers had been converted into warships—their heavy projectors replaced with 70mm breech-loaders. These trawlers gave the transmigrators a naval advantage no vessel in this era could challenge. Just days ago, Lin Shenhe had finally produced primitive impact-fuse shells with an 80% detonation rate, which was quite respectable—but production required copper.
Copper sourcing had become increasingly difficult. Despite Gao Ju's trading channel, purchasing copper was growing troublesome. Gao Ju had become increasingly suspicious of their purchases: massive quantities of pig iron, saltpeter, and copper, all with destinations unknown. The constant arrival of various foreign goods—spoils from Gou Manor—suggested troubling possibilities. Recently he had probed repeatedly, and the Youyu Islet transshipment warehouse had been secretly inspected.
Guo Yi recommended seizing Hong Kong Island, or at minimum establishing a transit base there. He also proposed contacting Macau to arrange Portuguese-mediated overseas trade.
Seizing Hong Kong Island. Ma Qianzhu considered the idea. Decent enough in theory—but Hong Kong is far more sensitive than Lingao. It sits right under the provincial capital's nose, at the Pearl River mouth's most strategic point. Occupation would mean preparing for a major battle with the Ming army, and their five to six hundred personnel were simply insufficient for such an undertaking.
Fighting and building simultaneously—truly a two-headed difficulty. Now he understood why alternate history timelines so often mentioned "winning time for peaceful construction." It was genuinely critical. The Army and Navy were twin gold-swallowing beasts, devouring resources while monopolizing valuable manpower.
Lost in thought, the public channel suddenly screamed to life: "Enemy! Enemy spotted!" The channel erupted into chaos.
Ma Qianzhu bellowed: "This is the Duty Officer and Chief of Staff! Everyone shut up! Alarm caller—identify yourself and location! Shaozhong—we need a dedicated channel! NOW!"
Switching to a private channel, the voice on the other end grew calmer: "I'm Liu Zheng of the Exploration Team. We departed this morning for a peat search. At 9:00 a.m., we encountered the enemy approximately twenty-five kilometers east of Bairren. We retreated immediately—we've just reached radio coverage. The enemy is roughly one hour behind us."
"How many? What equipment?"
"Several hundred, approximately. Couldn't see their equipment clearly—they appear to have firearms. Some cavalry visible. No artillery!"
"Ming regulars or pirates?"
"No uniforms. No armor. Almost certainly pirates!"
Damn. Ma Qianzhu's jaw tightened. It seems Zhu Cailao has attacked after all. That bastard completely ignored our olive branch.
"Return to the fortress immediately! Report any changes!"
(End of Chapter)