Chapter 293

Time slipped quietly by, and before long, summer was at hand. During the Dragon Boat Festival, the new warships were finally launched. This trial at sea involved not only the new vessels but also several refitted ships—five or six in total—sailing straight toward the land of Kou. In the waters neither too near nor too far from Kou, they tested their cannons, stone shot, and other armaments. If anything landed on the island, it would be the island’s misfortune; if not, they could at least calculate the range.

The display of Liang’s new warships so alarmed the ruler of Kou that he was beside himself. Previously, he had felt smug, thinking the Emperor of Liang had shown no reaction to their elaborate schemes. Outwardly, he praised the Liang Emperor’s benevolence; inwardly, he was one step away from calling him a fool. Now, with Liang’s warships pressing upon their waters, Kou had neither a maritime wall nor cannons fitted to their ships. All they could do was stand helpless on the shore and watch. Several attempts to send ships to parley with Liang’s fleet had been met with cannon fire and forced back.

Li Linshan stood on the deck, telescope in hand, gazing at the small islands of Kou. Liu Qing approached to report how many rounds they had fired, how much damage inflicted, and how many ships destroyed or sunk. “Sir, Kou has sent envoys requesting to board.”

Li Linshan raised an eyebrow. “They want to come aboard? Have the other two ships send them a little gift. Be measured—don’t hurt anyone, just drive them away.”

“Yes, sir!” Liu Qing bowed and withdrew. After a few steps, he encountered Wang Xiujin, who appeared on deck each day at the same hour to watch the spectacle. Liu Qing greeted him, then hurried off.

Wang Xiujin strolled over to Li Linshan, yawning. “What’s Kou up to now?”

“They’ve sent envoys who wish to come aboard. Likely hoping to observe our fittings and inquire why we’re testing ships off their island.” Li Linshan handed his telescope to Wang Xiujin, indicating he should look at the envoy’s vessel, which had taken a wide detour to approach.

“Heh, the nerve of them to even ask.” On reflection, though, in later times, Kou wouldn’t be the most shameless—no one could outdo the Stick Nation. The southern branch was forever claiming this and that as theirs, even the land itself. The northern branch, meanwhile, busied themselves with nuclear antics, always stirring up trouble when short on money or food. In the last years before doomsday arrived, they even claimed that China’s technology was learned from them. All in all, both branches loved to lay claim to others’ achievements. Once Kou was dealt with, perhaps it would be wise to take a cruise past the Stick Nation’s waters—not to do anything, just to frighten them into behaving for a while.

“A couple more days of bombardment and we can head home,” Li Linshan said, weary of life at sea. “Tell me, do you think it’s possible to intercept cannonballs in midair?” Watching the bombardment from the deck these days, he’d been pondering this question.

“In theory, yes, though in practice it would require much trial and error,” Wang Xiujin replied, admiring Li Linshan’s mind.

“And if it were possible, could we not also fire shells from the sky at land and sea?” The thought had struck Li Linshan as he watched flocks of seabirds feeding. He worried: if someone could fly overhead and drop bombs, how would one defend against it?

Wang Xiujin regarded Li Linshan with a complex expression. In future warfare, armies of land, sea, and air were indispensable, and defense was paramount—intercepting not just ordinary shells, but also missiles and nuclear weapons was vital. “In theory, it’s possible, provided one can ascend to the skies.”

“On land, we travel by carriage; at sea, by ship; surely the heavens must have their own conveyance,” Li Linshan mused, gazing upward. Without an engine, flight seemed difficult—or perhaps not so much, for aside from powered airplanes, there were hot air balloons. He didn’t fully understand how those worked, though, nor how one would land safely. “Perhaps you could think on it. Who knows, one day you might devise a way to fly.” There was nothing mocking in his tone, nor any jest—simply earnestness. Mankind’s desire for flight would only grow stronger after mastering land and sea.

Li Linshan looked at Wang Xiujin, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. He lifted his head, taking Wang Xiujin’s hand in his own. Perhaps one day, they would soar freely through the sky. Wang Xiujin also looked up; in his past life, he had flown constantly for work, never considering it a luxury, but now, all he could do was gaze at the heavens and yearn.

As the two watched the sky from the deck, the Kou envoys who had come to plead for an audience were far less fortunate. Their boat, buffeted by stone shot, left them dizzy and nauseated. By the time they stumbled ashore, they had vomited until nothing was left—even bile. Each of them was left with a lasting terror of sea vessels, never again daring to board.

Among Kou’s ministers, some proposed sending an embassy to the Empire for answers, but without the Emperor’s approval, nothing could be done. Meanwhile, the soldiers aboard the ships, having finished their daily duties, retired to rest. Li Linshan, Wang Xiujin, and Xiao, their personal attendant, reviewed the day’s records and were well satisfied with the results of the trial.

Afterward, the three settled into conversation, mostly with Wang Xiujin and Xiao exchanging anecdotes about Kou’s peculiar customs. Wang Xiujin also shared some oddities he’d seen on the internet in his previous life. “Don’t be fooled by Kou’s staid appearance; their customs are bizarre. For example, they have Father’s Day, and on that day, fathers and daughters bathe together.” He had found this uncomfortable to read about in the past. “And children of different mothers are permitted to marry.”

Li Linshan’s mood grew heavy as he listened, while Xiao wore a strange expression, yet did not argue. “The merchant lord speaks truly.” Having learned the purpose of this voyage, Xiao had sought out someone knowledgeable about Kou, and had been thoroughly shocked by some of Japan’s customs. “His Majesty is deeply dissatisfied with Kou and is likely to send troops to reclaim it.”

“Eh?” Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan both turned to Xiao.

“The fault lies in the Kou Emperor’s overreaching ambition. Our sovereign does not dare claim the heavens, but the Kou Emperor is called ‘Heavenly Sovereign’.” Xiao’s face was filled with disdain for Kou.

Li Linshan and Wang Xiujin exchanged glances. The Heavenly Sovereign of Kou was not a new title; the Emperor’s reaction seemed belated. Or perhaps he simply sought a legitimate pretext to attack Kou.

After a few more days of bombardment near Kou’s waters, the fleet sailed for the Stick Nation. Once Liang’s great ships departed, some ministers in Kou clamored for action, suggesting they should show Liang a thing or two. Such talk was ignored; what could Kou possibly do against Liang now? If Liang dispatched a few more warships, they might sink the island itself. Lacking the courage for confrontation, yet unwilling to swallow their humiliation, the Kou Emperor decided to send envoys to Liang, hoping to plead before the Emperor, curry favor with officials, hinder shipbuilding projects, and perhaps even obtain blueprints for the warships.

The Stick Nation had grown very quiet of late, having heard of Kou’s ordeal and of fishermen witnessing Liang’s iron balls exploding over the sea. These tales spread quickly, reaching the ears of the Stick Emperor, who summoned the fishermen for questioning and thereafter dared not send further pleas for aid or neglect Liang’s tribute. Even before the tribute was collected, news arrived that Liang’s warships had been spotted in nearby waters. The Stick Emperor was so terrified that he collapsed in fear, weeping and sniveling, no longer the picture of sovereign dignity.

The Stick ministers were frantic. They had prepared the tribute per the Liang Emperor’s orders, not daring to delay. Last year, their failure to present the full amount was due to genuine poverty—or so they claimed. Whether it was true want or simply feigned poverty to cheat for silver and grain was known only to themselves.

Compared to Kou, the Stick Nation was treated more leniently. The warships did not approach too closely, bombarding only from a distance, three times a day, then resting. For several days, they expended all their ammunition before turning for home. The Stick Emperor, petrified, clung to his Empress day and night, refusing to hold court or even leave his chambers. Only when informed the ships had departed did he dare emerge, insisting the Empress accompany him to court.

While the warships were bombarding the Stick Nation, Kou’s envoys had finally reached the imperial seawall, only to be blocked by the coastal guards. Without an imperial summons, and bearing neither tribute nor a clear explanation for their visit, they were refused entry. The envoys leapt and raged in vain, recalling with longing the days before the wall was built, when they could come and go at will. Now, confronted with Liang’s maritime fortifications, they could only envy and resent what they did not possess. They, too, wished they could build such defenses, even if not as resilient, at least to ward off threats from the sea.

The envoys tried bribing the guards with money and gifts, but the soldiers dutifully handed everything over to their superiors. The officers, recalling recent imperial edicts, sent the offerings straight to the capital. Now, the question arose: what were Kou’s envoys plotting, trying to bribe their way into Liang?

Kou’s delegation waited in vain for weeks for the guards to return their bribes, but instead, a foreign affairs officer arrived from the capital. Upon seeing him, the envoys felt a strong sense of foreboding, yet hope persisted—they thought to win him over with heavy bribes, coaxing him to speak well of them before the Emperor and malign the shipbuilders. In the envoys’ view, this was but a matter of a few words, and surely the officer would not refuse; after all, such dealings had always been their way.