In the dead of night, snowflakes drifted from the sky. The north wind howled, swirling the snow in a flurry, blanketing the land and all its creatures in white.
On the sea, the wind was fiercer, whipping up towering waves that crashed against the reefs, sending sprays of water mingling with the falling snow.
At Lì Port, lights blazed brightly. Pirates armed with swords and muskets patrolled back and forth. From wooden and thatched shelters came the steady sound of spinning and weaving, where gaunt, numb women were overseen by pirates wielding whips.
In the freezing cold, the women’s hands and feet were stiff with frost, some fingers swollen like radishes, yet none dared slack off.
From time to time, a woman’s scream pierced the air as a pirate, displeased with her pace, lashed her with a whip as a warning.
These women were captured civilians—young and beautiful ones were taken for the pirates’ pleasure, while older or less attractive ones were forced to weave.
“Faster! You’ve got three days to weave another ten thousand bolts of cloth. Lord Huī wants to deliver to the Franks. If you’re short by even a meter, you’ll all be sent to the camp for the men to do as they please. Ugly or old, doesn’t matter—lights out, it’s all the same. Just get it done!”
The supervising pirate paced, dragging his whip on the ground, hurling crude threats.
As Wang Zhi had said, in three days, he would trade silk and cotton with the Franks at Lì Port, exchanging them for firearms. Though piracy was a lucrative, no-cost venture with plenty of stolen silver, Wang Zhi never forgot his merchant dreams. Alongside his piratical raids, he traded with the Franks and others.
Frankish firearms were unrivalled in this era. Wang Zhi would trade them to Japan’s warring lords, where demand was high amid their civil conflicts, earning him profits up to eightfold.
Wang Zhi had two main enterprises: commerce—trading with coastal smugglers, foreigners like the Franks, and Japanese lords—and piracy, with its burning, killing, and plundering.
Hearing the overseer’s threats, the women worked faster, knowing the pirates meant every word. They’d experienced it before.
Women in pirate hands suffered terribly.
Men fared even worse.
Captured men, mostly young and strong, were shaved into the pirates’ distinctive crescent-moon hairstyle, their scalps painted to mimic them.
On ordinary days, these captives were driven by whips and swords to labour—fortifying Lì Port’s defenses, cleaning pirate ships, or performing grueling tasks. Even now, late at night in the howling cold, thinly clad, emaciated captives were forced barefoot to scrub and maintain the pirate warships at the port.
During battles, the pirates’ tactic was to drive these captives to the front lines, armed with crude weapons, to serve as cannon fodder against the official army.
The real pirates followed behind, conserving energy. After the captives wore down the army’s strength, the pirates would leap in, break through, reap the battlefield, or deliver a fatal blow.
Some captives, fearing death as cannon fodder at the hands of the army, chose to join the pirates, enjoying good food, drink, and women. After surviving a few bloody battles, these men stood out and were absorbed into the pirate ranks, becoming the very people they once despised.
Most captives, however, were doomed to repeat the cycle of labour and cannon fodder.
The root of all this evil—the pirates—reigned supreme at Lì Port, cruel and reveling in their power.
In a brightly lit hall, pirate leaders lounged with women in their arms, groping and toasting with abandon, utterly unrestrained.
“Lord Huī arrives!”
A pirate shouted at the entrance, and the leaders in the hall straightened up slightly, releasing the women and sitting properly.
Soon, Wang Zhi, accompanied by his top ship captains, strode in wearing wooden clogs and the attire of a Japanese noble. His crescent-moon hairstyle framed a stern face, exuding an overwhelming presence.
With over a hundred thousand pirates under his command—his direct forces, allied pirates, and those recruited or colluded with from Japan—Wang Zhi’s aura of dominance was well-earned through years of conquest.
“Greetings, Lord Huī!” The pirate leaders in the hall bowed deeply.
“Rise. You all know why I’ve summoned you today,” Wang Zhi said, seated high on a throne carved with a black dragon, waving his sleeve at the leaders below.
“Zhejiang Governor Zhu Ping’an overestimates himself, daring to declare war on us. He’s seeking his own death. I request to lead troops to crush him, take his head, and present it to Lord Huī as a chamber pot!” one pirate leader declared, clasping his fists.
“Crush him! With our strength, we could march straight to the Forbidden City! We haven’t even gone to Shaoxing to trouble him, yet he comes knocking. Either he’s eaten a bear’s heart or leopard’s gall, or he’s drunk fake wine over the New Year and lost his mind. Daring to challenge Lord Huī’s might—he must be crushed!”
“Crush him! Send me, Lord Huī. I won’t disgrace you! No matter how many he brings, I’ll cut them all down!”
“Crush him!”
The hall erupted with fervor, the pirate leaders rubbing their hands, eagerly volunteering to lead their men against Zhu Ping’an.
Seeing the hall filled with calls for battle, Wang Zhi nodded in satisfaction, raising his hand to quiet them. “Good. Wine and women haven’t drained you. Seeing you all as fierce as wolves and tigers pleases me. To be a pirate, to live with your head on your belt, you need this ruthlessness.”
“Lord Huī is right—those who aren’t ruthless can’t stand firm!” a pirate leader chimed in, fawning over Wang Zhi.
“Rest assured, Lord Huī. We’re not boasting, but even after eighteen bowls of wine and eighteen women, we can still crush the army! They’ve got no fighters—weak as chicks. We could crush them with one hand!”
The pirates brimmed with confidence, their words dripping with contempt for the Ming army.
It wasn’t unwarranted. The Ming army was pitifully weak. Every clash with them was a victory, like a father beating a son—however they fought, the pirates always won.
After countless easy victories, it was hard for the pirates not to be arrogant.
