Chapter 931 – Biezi Gate

The Haitian remained in Kaohsiung for three days. Having failed to encounter any indigenous "guidance party" as hoped, and with time running short, Li Ziping decided not to linger. He weighed anchor and continued sailing north.

After a day of sailing, they anchored for the night at Haitan Island—Pingtan Island—sixty-eight nautical miles north of Taiwan proper. Haitan Island was China's fifth-largest island, approximately twenty-seven kilometers long north to south and eighteen kilometers wide east to west, with an area of 309 square kilometers.

According to data from the Grand Library, development of Haitan Island had begun in the Song Dynasty. More surprisingly, the Song court had established a horse-breeding supervision bureau here specifically for raising horses—evidence that the local water, soil, and climate were suitable for horses to live and breed.

By the Ming Dynasty, Haitan Island already supported a population of forty to fifty thousand. In scale, it was larger than Nan'ao Island, which they had just passed. The Haitian spent two days surveying here. As at Nan'ao, the moment they landed, the island's military and civilians went on high alert, but no one attempted to expel or destroy them, leaving them to roam the island at will.

On the second of June, the Haitian entered Hangzhou Bay and dropped anchor near Haining. At first light the next day, Li Ziping commanded the ship to approach Biezi Gate, preparing to enter the Qiantang River. According to plan, the Navy required the Haitian to survey the river's channels in preparation for naval vessels to enter directly if the need arose.

The main channel of the Qiantang River estuary had shifted multiple times throughout history. The greatest shift occurred during the Ming-Qing transition, known as the "Three Gates Shift."

Historically, between Kanshan on the south bank—in Xiaoshan—and Haining on the north bank, three successive channels to the sea existed, called the "Three Gates." The channel between Kanshan and Zheshan, about 6.2 kilometers wide, was called the South Gate. Because the two mountains stood opposite each other like a gate, it was anciently known as the Sea Gate. Beside Kanshan lay a small hill shaped like a soft-shelled turtle, also situated within the Sea Gate; hence, it was also called Biezi Gate—Turtle Gate. The channel between Zheshan and Hezhuang Mountain, about 1.7 kilometers wide, was called the Middle-Small Gate. The channel between Hezhuang Mountain and the Haining seawall on the north bank, about 10.5 kilometers wide, was called the North Gate. The main channel had shifted first through the South Gate, then the Middle-Small Gate, and finally to the North Gate. When the Haitian arrived, the main channel still passed through the South Gate.

Biezi Gate commanded formidable terrain—a perilous chokepoint where mountains flanked the river. In the Ming Dynasty, it served as the first gateway for Hangzhou's defense against wokou pirates. Control of Biezi Gate meant preventing maritime invaders from penetrating the Hang-Jia-Hu plain. During the Jiajing reign, Zhejiang had established six guards to defend against pirates—the Six Coastal Defense Guards—and Haimen Guard was responsible for defense here.

Li Ziping didn't know how many defensive facilities surrounded the Biezi Gate area. He wasn't worried about Ming firepower; rather, he was concerned about unclear local channel conditions. If they ran aground in the river, the Haitian, with its limited firepower and insufficient complement, would become meat on the chopping block.

Therefore, Li Ziping proceeded with extreme caution. Approaching Biezi Gate, the entire ship went on alert. At the same time, all rowboats and the small steam launch were lowered—the rowboats leading the way to sound depths while the steam launch cruised back and forth, screening the ship's navigation. He ordered boiler pressure maintained at all times. The currents at the river estuary were unpredictable, hydrological data was insufficient, and without enough mobility, running aground or striking reefs was entirely too easy.

According to reconnaissance and gathered intelligence, Ming troops were stationed at Biezi Gate, along with forts and cannon emplacements. The sudden appearance of the Haitian triggered a general alarm throughout the surroundings. But as throughout the voyage, no Ming naval vessels emerged to drive them away. Clearly, the Ming military was wary of European-style ships like the Haitian. From years of dealing with European pirate-merchants, they knew these vessels possessed firepower superior to their dilapidated war junks. Therefore, adhering to the policy of coping with shifting events by sticking to a fundamental principle, they held fast to their forts and absolutely refused to sally forth.

Qian Shuixie led a small team on a probing landing. After penetrating about two kilometers inland, they found the coastal villages already empty.

"They ran fast—" Qian Shuixie was deeply disappointed. He had hoped to grab a few locals and levy a "reasonable burden." Instead, the village was deserted. Clearly, they had fled in haste; they hadn't even taken their pigs, chickens, or ducks.

Liu Zheng said, "How about we catch all the chickens..."

Having drifted at sea for so long, always eating field rations aside from occasionally buying vegetables and eggs from fishermen, they hadn't tasted fresh meat in ages. A few fresh, tasty free-range chickens would certainly make a delicious meal.

"Then wouldn't we become 'Japanese devils'?" Qian Shuixie shook his head. This was a disciplinary violation. Levying a "reasonable burden" had policies and procedures; taking things privately now constituted theft—serious in nature.

The team pushed forward another kilometer. Faint, confused human voices came from ahead. Qian Shuixie ordered a halt and sent men to scout. Before long, the scouts returned to report: less than a kilometer ahead, over a thousand armed personnel had gathered—probably local government troops and militia. Whether they planned to defend to the death or charge over to wipe out the landing party remained unclear.

Qian Shuixie decided to withdraw. Their mission was to probe local defenses, not capture Haining with twenty men. He ordered everyone to about-face and retreat toward the rowboats at the beach.

But at that moment, a burst of urgent gongs and drums suddenly sounded, followed by the roar of thousands of voices. Qian Shuixie knew the enemy was clearly preparing to pursue.

Racing them now was unwise. The coast was still nearly three kilometers away; even at full sprint, they would need more than ten minutes. The survey team members still carried heavy mapping equipment—running like that would certainly mean lost weapons and gear.

He studied the surrounding terrain. On the outside of a bend in the road rose a small hill, at most five or six meters high, covered in dense trees. Below the slope flowed a river lined with thick grass and vegetation—convenient for concealment and retreat.

In setting an ambush at a road bend, once the enemy encountered fire from one side, they would instinctively flee in the same direction toward the other side. The ambushers could concentrate fire to tail and shoot them without needing to shift firing angles.

Qian Shuixie quickly conferred with Liu Zheng. They decided that half a squad would escort the survey team in retreat while Qian Shuixie took one squad to cover the rear.

"Be careful—don't get surrounded here," Liu Zheng warned.

Qian Shuixie nodded. "Won't happen. Visibility is good around here. Their flanking movements can't hide from me. I'll lead the men to hit them hard here for a bit. Once the enemy retreats, I'll quickly bring the squad and catch up. On the way, call the Haitian for support."

"Alright. Take care." Liu Zheng knew this wasn't the time for idle talk and left with his men.

"Machine gun!" Qian Shuixie called out.

The shooter in the squad carrying the modified bipod-equipped M77B1 automatic rifle immediately stepped forward.

"Go to the top of the hill. Fire when I open fire," Qian Shuixie instructed. "First hit the front of the column with a long burst, then hit the tail of the enemy column with short bursts."

"Understood, sir."

He then detailed the soldier with the best grenade-throwing scores to act as assistant machine gunner, gathering ten grenades from other soldiers for him. The sniper was also positioned on the hill. Because the incoming force was a mixed bag of militia without clear leadership, the sniper had no priority targets. Qian Shuixie ordered him to fire at will once the enemy entered effective range.

The team deployed along the bend in the road. Qian Shuixie's intention was to use a fierce ambush to stun the pursuing enemy, seize the momentum to rout them, and deprive them of the ability to pursue.

The machine gunner soon found a suitable firing position on the hill. He carefully attached the special brass catcher bag to the ejection port—a genuine original part, a vehicle accessory for the M77B1 rifle. The sniper carefully attached a simple scope to his Mosin-Nagant rifle and checked the round in the chamber one last time.

The "grenadier" opened the caps of all the grenades, tearing away the moisture-proof oil paper to expose the pull cords. He studied the dirt road before him, estimating his maximum throwing distance, then stood and tested whether any branches or bushes would obstruct his throw.

Wang Jiashan shouldered a bird-gun, walking chaotically along with the main body of troops.

The sun shone on Wang Jiashan, warming him. One arm and half a shoulder were exposed through his tattered uniform jacket. The original color had long since faded; pieces hung off him here and there, barely held together by a straw rope tied randomly around his waist.

His calves were bare, his feet shod in straw sandals. If not for the tattered leather helmet on his head, the bird-gun on his back, and the leather pouch for powder and shot at his waist, he would have looked no different from a common local beggar.

Wang Jiashan was a military household soldier of the Haimen Guard. Though the Ming guard system had long since rotted away, every guard unit still had some military household soldiers who drilled on ordinary days. Wang Jiashan was one of these "drilling soldiers."

As a drilling soldier, he could intermittently receive some rations and pay and didn't have to work the fields all day for the commanders—the battalion and company officers who lorded over the military households.

In front of Wang Jiashan walked his neighbor, Li Shanmin—a gloomy middle-aged man with seven children, from Damin (First) to Qimin (Seventh). Even with everyone who could walk laboring for others, there was never enough food. Li Shanmin's fifteen-year-old eldest son, Li Damin, wearing ragged clothes, shouldered a wooden spear and walked cheerfully at the front, as if on an outing.

Compared to the old, weak, sick, and disabled military households, the militia braves appeared somewhat more orderly—all young and strong men. Their morale was also good. They were the local militia corps from several nearby villages and towns, led by a deputy corps commander, accompanying the government troops to drive out the "sea bandits."

The Zhejiang coast had once been a disaster zone rampant with wokou pirates. After wokou flying Japanese flags had largely disappeared, "sea bandits" had taken their place. However, since Ming Zhejiang had no major foreign trade ports, it hadn't produced great sea lords like Zheng Zhilong, Zhong Bin, or Liu Xiang of Fujian and Guangdong. But small bands of sea bandits engaging in piecemeal raiding were still numerous. Government troops and militia frequently clashed with such bandits coming ashore to plunder.