“I’ve thoroughly studied the records of Zheng He’s voyages to the Western Oceans, examined the testimonies of the red-haired barbarians and others, and gained some understanding of the customs, economies, politics, and cultures of the Western countries. Over time, I developed a dream.”
Zhu Pingan, after Wang Zhi’s curious question, gave a slight smile and spoke slowly, adding another layer of armour to himself.
“Is your dream, Lord Zhu, the Age of Sail?” Wang Zhi caught on quickly.
“Exactly. Before I explain my dream, let me briefly introduce this world map, which carries my vision for the Age of Sail.”
Zhu Pingan pointed to the world map behind him as he spoke.
“Here is our Great Ming. To the north are the Oirats, Tatars, and Jurchen tribes, rich in livestock like sheep and horses. Further north is Siberia, full of forests and minerals. To the east, Leader Wang, you know well, is Japan, currently fractured and chaotic, with warlords fighting and spilling blood. One interesting thing about Japan: their silver is expensive. In our Great Ming, ten taels of silver exchange for one tael of gold, but in Japan, five taels of silver can get you one tael of gold.”
Zhu Pingan described the situation north and east of the Great Ming, then pointed to the south.
“Here is Southeast Asia, where the climate is warm, and rice can yield three harvests a year. There’s a waterway here leading straight to the lands of the Franks and other Western barbarians.”
“This is India, or Tianzhu, the destination of the Tang monk Xuanzang’s journey for scriptures. It’s now ruled by the Mughal Empire, descendants of the Mongols. Their rice also yields three harvests a year, and Tianzhu is called the ‘Land of Spices.’ Curry, cinnamon, pepper, star anise, lemongrass, neem, pistachios, chillies, ginger, turmeric, coriander, cloves, nutmeg, fennel, saffron, fenugreek… all sorts of spices, known and unknown, are as common as dirt there. In our Great Ming, a tael of gold buys a tael of spice, but there, a single coin gets you a jin. The climate is ideal for growing cotton and tea.”
“There’s also an interesting system called the caste system, dividing people into four main classes: Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras. Beyond that, there’s a fifth group, the ‘untouchables,’ called Dalits, treated as less than grass, brainwashed by their local religion, Hinduism, to accept their fate obediently.”
“This is distant Africa, rich in gold, populated by millions of black tribes in a near-primitive state, scattered across this mysterious continent.”
“And here are the Western barbarian countries. Their firearms are somewhat more advanced than ours. Each country has its strengths: some produce olives, others grapes. They excel at colonisation, seizing lands and people, and are skilled at trade.”
Zhu Pingan briefly outlined the basics from Southeast Asia to Europe, then pointed to the Americas, marked with a question mark.
“This place is mentioned once in Zheng He’s records, vaguely. It’s an undiscovered new continent, rich in gold, silver, and jewels. Its rulers are more advanced than Africa’s but far behind our Great Ming. Their weapons are stone axes, bronze, and wooden sticks. Their staples are maize and sweet potatoes, with high yields, already grown in small amounts in our Great Ming’s south. There’s also a very sweet plant called sugarcane, and the land is perfect for cotton.”
“Here, here, and here.”
Zhu Pingan gave a brief overview of each region on the map, painting them as treasure troves.
“How do these places you’ve described, Lord Zhu, connect to your dream of the Age of Sail?” Wang Zhi asked, puzzled.
“My dream of the Age of Sail is this: the grasslands of the Tatars and Jurchens become our livestock pens, raising sheep, horses, and cattle for us. Siberia becomes our forestry zone. Japan sends us gold and silver. Africans bring us gold and minerals. Southeast Asia grows rice for us, Tianzhu supplies spices and tea, and this new continent provides cotton, sugarcane, gold, and silver. The Western countries offer grapes and help us advance our shipbuilding and firearms. The Great Ming will usher in an unprecedented, unparalleled golden age.”
Zhu Pingan spread his arms, as if embracing the world, drawing Wang Zhi into his vision of the Age of Sail.
“Hiss.”
Wang Zhi, hearing Zhu Pingan’s dream, couldn’t help but gasp three times, utterly stunned.
At that moment, Wang Zhi felt like a cicada clinging to a tree, while Zhu Pingan was a mythical roc soaring through the heavens.
“Your dream is incredibly grand, Lord Zhu, unprecedented. But how do we get these foreign countries to provide us with gold, silver, grains, spices, tea, and rice?” Wang Zhi raised a critical question.
“We can trade with them, exchanging for their gold, silver, grains, spices, and other goods,” Zhu Pingan replied with a smile.
“And if they refuse to trade?” Wang Zhi pressed.
A valid question, given that the Ming court currently banned maritime trade and refused to open ports.
“Heh, our China has always persuaded with virtue,” Zhu Pingan said with a faint smile.
“Virtue? Will they listen?” Wang Zhi was stunned.
“If moral virtue fails, then martial virtue will do. On his voyages, Zheng He used martial virtue to convince many foreign states,” Zhu Pingan said with a smile.
Then he looked at Wang Zhi, “Aren’t you, Leader Wang, doing just that now? Of course, your strength is limited. To truly persuade with virtue, the court must step in. The same action, done by different people, yields vastly different results. Xizi holding her heart is graceful, but Dongshi mimicking her looks foolish.”
“Right now, the Western countries are in their Age of Sail, using firearms to conquer and plunder, seizing region after region, amassing wealth and territory. One ambitious figure after another takes the stage, and their strength grows through this exploration.”
“This era holds wealth as vast as the oceans and land ten times larger than our Great Ming.”
“If our Great Ming falls behind in this Age of Sail, our descendants could be bullied by these Western countries, becoming targets of their plunder. This is no exaggeration.”
“But if we embrace the Age of Sail, with the Great Ming’s scale, we can quickly surpass the Western nations, ushering in an unprecedented, unparalleled super golden age.”
Zhu Pingan spoke slowly, his words growing passionate and stirring, filled with inspiration.
Wang Zhi couldn’t help but feel his blood boil, his chest ablaze with a burning fire.
