Prefect Shang readily accepted Zhu Pingan’s suggestion, immediately ordering notices posted in the city to recruit carts, horses, and able-bodied civilians.
The townsfolk, upon hearing it was to assist the Zhejiang army in cleaning up the battlefield, erupted with enthusiasm, eagerly signing up in droves.
In no time, over ten thousand had registered. Even an old woman dragged her son by the ear to the notice board to enlist.
“Ma, easy, easy! I didn’t say I wouldn’t sign up! Why’d you have to haul me here like this? The neighbors will laugh at us!” the burly son pleaded, wincing as he begged his mother to lighten her grip.
“The only reason this whole city’s still alive is thanks to Lord Zhu and his men! Now they’ve won a battle out there and need help cleaning up, and you—you heartless turtle—heard the call and turned tail for home! What a disgrace to this family! How did I raise such an ungrateful wretch? If you weren’t my only son, I’d have disowned you already!”
The old woman fumed, twisting his ear harder as she berated him through gritted teeth.
“Ow, Ma, it’s a misunderstanding! I was running home to borrow Old Wang’s cart! He’s a lonely old bachelor with a big cart, but his legs are bad—he can’t help the Zhejiang army himself. His cart’s just sitting there, so I figured I’d borrow it to help our savior, Lord Zhu, clean up the battlefield!”
The hulking man yelped, hastily explaining his intentions.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner? And what’s this ‘lonely old bachelor’ nonsense? Don’t call your Uncle Wang that—it’s rude!”
The old woman gave his ear one last sharp twist before letting go amid his howls of pain.
“I’m just stating facts—he *is* an old bachelor,” the man muttered, shrinking back.
“Facts or not, you call him Uncle Wang! Now hurry up and get that cart from him! I’ll cook him a dish later to thank him properly,” she snapped, glaring at her son.
“Fine, fine, I won’t say it,” the man grumbled reluctantly under her pressure.
“Move it! There’s a ton of people signing up—if you miss out, see how I deal with you when you get home!” she barked.
The burly man bolted off at top speed.
Scenes like this played out across the city—countless citizens vying for a spot, scrambling to contribute.
While the townsfolk rallied to the call, Prefect Shang continued his meticulous questioning of Zhu Pingan atop the wall.
Shang asked in detail, and Zhu Pingan answered just as thoroughly—truthfully and fluently.
After the exchange, Shang’s trust in Zhu Pingan soared.
Still, scarred by Wang Jian’s betrayal, Shang had learned his lesson. To confirm the captives’ authenticity, he sent ten trusted aides down in baskets to inspect them up close.
The ten aides descended and examined the captives carefully.
It was obvious at a glance—these were genuine pirates. Shaved heads, bare feet, bald crowns—not freshly shorn, no new stubble. A closer look revealed the difference between real Japanese pirates and local collaborators. The true pirates’ bald, crescent-shaped hairstyles looked natural, while the fake ones had crudely clipped tops with buns pulled back—less seamless, more abrupt. True pirates were also noticeably shorter, half a head or more below the fakes. And their speech—gibberish bird-talk—shaped their jawlines differently from Ming folk.
Real or fake, their tattered pirate garb bore scorch marks from fire—on hair, faces, bodies—matching the Zhejiang army’s report of a fire-based victory.
The captives were bound tight as crabs—ropes digging in so hard some had bruised hands and feet. Shang’s aides yanked at the bindings with all their might but couldn’t loosen them, drawing pained gasps from the pirates. This was no flimsy sham like Wang Jian’s easily shed ropes.
They also checked the seized pirate weapons—authentic blades, mostly wakizashi, mixed with tachi, kusanagi, longbows, and arquebuses.
The ten aides triple-checked everything, even isolating a few captives from the Zhejiang troops to interrogate them about the battle. Their conclusion: these were real pirates, no fakes—Lord Zhu had indeed led the Zhejiang army to a grand victory.
Once confirmed, the aides returned via basket to the wall to report to Shang.
Reporting from the wall ensured they weren’t coerced by the Zhejiang troops below.
With their confirmation, Shang’s doubts vanished. Overjoyed at the verified triumph, he hurriedly ordered, “Quick, quick, open the gates wide! Welcome Lord Zhu and the Zhejiang troops into the city!”
“Is the victory feast ready? Chief Zhang, get it set up fast. Once Zihou and the troops enter, we’ll take them straight to celebrate. Pile on the good meat, wine, and dishes—add plenty of pastries and fruits too. Better to have leftovers than not enough!”
“And those Zhejiang soldiers who reported earlier—bring them out quick to reunite with their comrades!”
At Shang’s command, the Suzhou gates creaked open to their fullest.
“Zihou, please enter,” Shang said, leading Deputy Zhang and a group of city officials out to greet Zhu Pingan and his men.
Zhu Pingan shook his head, not stepping forward immediately.
Shang froze, wondering if Zhu Pingan was upset over the delayed welcome.
But Zhu Pingan’s next words shamed him for the thought.
“Prefect Shang, for safety’s sake, let’s first escort the captives into the city and lock them in the jail,” Zhu Pingan said, clasping his hands and gesturing to the strings of pirates behind him.
“Quite right, quite right—Zihou’s spot on! Where’s the jail warden? Hurry, clear the cells and work with the Zhejiang troops to lock these pirates up. Double the guards—no slip-ups!”
Shang nodded vigorously, swiftly directing the jail warden to coordinate with the Zhejiang army in securing the captives.
