Dark clouds veiled the moon, plunging the streets into pitch blackness where one could scarcely see their own hand. The streets were nearly deserted, save for a shivering watchman, clad in a straw raincoat, carrying a lantern, and calling out, “Dry weather, beware of fire!” as he hurriedly passed by.
After the watchman moved on, a figure emerged from an alley, glanced around cautiously, then slipped back into the shadows.
Soon, he and another person crept out of the alley, carrying a crude stretcher made of sticks. On the stretcher lay an unconscious man.
“The watchman’s gone. Let’s hurry. Past the crossroads ahead and a turn west—it’s not far to the Zhejiang Governor’s Office,” the man in front whispered.
“Alright, let’s hope we make it. This time, we’re risking our lives,” the man behind replied, his voice tinged with unease.
“Don’t worry. Without absolute certainty, would I dare risk my life to surrender here? This ‘gift’ is a rare opportunity,” the man in front said confidently.
“Let’s hope so,” the other replied, still apprehensive.
At the Zhejiang Governor’s Office, Zhu Ping’an had returned from northern Zhejiang half a day earlier. After decisively defeating the Japanese pirates invading Jiashan County and pursuing and annihilating the largest group of fleeing pirates, Zhu Ping’an had returned to Shaoxing.
The task of cleaning up the battlefield was left to Liu Mu and others.
Upon arriving at the Governor’s Office, Zhu Ping’an, still in his armour, first went to the inner courtyard to report his safety, reassuring Li Shu and the others.
Seeing Li Shu’s relief as her heart settled back into place, and the two little ones sleeping soundly, Zhu Ping’an felt a pang of guilt.
He wasn’t a competent husband or father, failing to fully meet the responsibilities of either role.
Fortunately, Li Shu was supportive and understanding, and with Qin’er, Hua’er, and others helping to care for her and the children, things were manageable.
After reporting his safety, Zhu Ping’an removed his padded armour and soaked in a hot bath, washing away his fatigue.
After the bath, he changed clothes and headed to the study. Soon, reports from the other two battlefronts were delivered by messengers.
Zhu Ping’an compiled the data from the three battlefields and quickly drafted a battle report, ordering it sent urgently to Governor Zhang Jing.
The ambush tactics employed this time, leveraging the long-range advantage of firearms, had avoided close combat almost entirely.
As a result, the Zhejiang Army’s casualties were negligible.
In the Jiashan battlefield, two soldiers were injured by musket misfires; during the downhill pursuit of the pirates, one Zhejiang soldier twisted his ankle after missing a step. On the other two battlefields, casualties were slightly higher: three soldiers were injured by musket misfires during the ambush, and in the pursuit, brief close-quarters combat resulted in one Zhejiang soldier killed by a stray arrow to the face and over thirty soldiers wounded—twenty-three with light injuries and just over ten with serious ones.
For timely treatment, all seriously wounded were treated on-site, while those with light injuries were bandaged and continued with the army.
The three battles yielded significant results—immensely so. Over seven thousand enemies were killed, with 6,120 heads collected.
Regrettably, the pirate leader, Maye, wasn’t captured.
The identity of the leader, Maye, was confirmed through interrogations of captured pirates.
What a pity.
The collected heads and captured pirates were thoroughly inspected multiple times, but Maye’s whereabouts remained unknown. Whether he was dead, escaped, or forever lost on the battlefield was unclear.
Such a shame.
Of course, the campaign also exposed several issues. The most pressing was the need to improve firearms—over a dozen muskets had misfired, far too many, each misfire injuring a Zhejiang soldier. Additionally, gunpowder consumption was enormous. The buried jar bombs, along with muskets and cannons, had nearly depleted the Zhejiang Army’s gunpowder reserves.
If another battle arose, the Zhejiang Army would be out of gunpowder. Without it, their firearms would be no better than fire pokers.
As a firearm-reliant force, without gunpowder, the Zhejiang Army would be like a toothless tiger, its strength reduced by eighty percent.
These problems needed solutions.
As Zhu Ping’an reflected and summarised, footsteps approached outside, followed by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Zhu Ping’an called.
“Greetings, Lord Governor. I report, sir, two men claiming to be Japanese pirates have arrived at the office gate, carrying an unconscious pirate. They wish to surrender and say the man they carry is the pirate leader Maye, offered as a gift to you. This is a serious matter, so I dared not delay and came to report immediately,” the guard at the door said after saluting.
Hm?!
What? Maye? Two pirates surrendering with Maye as a gift to me?!
Zhu Ping’an stood up, excitement surging through him.
Speak of the devil, and he appears. Just moments ago, he’d been lamenting not capturing Maye, and now two pirates were surrendering with him in tow.
If the man they brought was indeed Maye, the campaign’s success would reach new heights. Capturing the pirate leader was a far greater achievement than not capturing him—completely different in significance.
As for whether the man was truly Maye? That was simple. During the Suzhou defense, Zhu Ping’an had seen Maye. One glance would confirm it.
“Good, excellent. Bring them to the courtyard at once, and on the way, summon Liu Mu, Liu Dadao, and the others,” Zhu Ping’an nodded eagerly, issuing orders.
A gentleman avoids danger, but one must guard against villains. Though they came to surrender, precautions were necessary.
Better safe than sorry. What if they were assassins feigning surrender to get close and attempt to kill him?
There had been multiple assassination attempts on him recently, so vigilance was essential.
With Liu Mu, Liu Dadao, and the others present for security, his safety would be assured.
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied and left to carry out the orders.
After the guard departed, Zhu Ping’an thought for a moment and put on a soft armour under his regular clothes, just in case.
No sooner had he donned the armour than he heard commotion outside and stepped out.
In the courtyard, Liu Mu, Liu Dadao, Liu Daqiang, and Liu Dagang escorted two men dressed as Japanese pirates. Behind them, two guards carried a simple stretcher bearing a dishevelled, unconscious pirate.
“Young Master, we’ve confirmed it. The unconscious pirate on the stretcher is indeed Maye! We saw him in Suzhou. Even if he turned to ash, we’d recognise him,” Liu Dadao said excitedly.
Liu Mu and the others nodded vigorously in agreement, their eyes fixed warily on the two surrendering pirates.
“Let me see,” Zhu Ping’an said, stepping forward to inspect. Sure enough, the man on the stretcher was unmistakably Maye.
