“Zhu Ping’an is indeed seeking death and no match for us, but we mustn’t underestimate him, or we’ll lose a few teeth.”
Amid the chorus of arrogance, an out-of-place voice spoke calmly.
All eyes turned to Ye Zongman, dressed in Japanese noble attire, looking at the crowd with a serious expression.
“Heh, Captain Ye, why boost his morale and diminish our own?” someone scoffed, challenging him.
Ye Zongman was one of Wang Zhi’s ten top lieutenants, commanding a pirate fleet of five thousand men, a high-ranking figure under Wang Zhi. Ordinary pirate leaders wouldn’t dare speak out, but other lieutenants of similar rank weren’t afraid and saw this as a chance to undermine him.
Where there are many people, there are factions, and the pirates were no exception. With Wang Zhi’s vast forces, cliques and alliances formed naturally. No one wanted to tackle the tough tasks, but everyone wanted the lucrative ones. Competition for these meant forming factions to gain an edge.
“I’m not boosting his morale or diminishing ours. I’m reminding everyone that Zhu Ping’an is no ordinary man. Though young, he’s not to be underestimated. He’s one of the rare Ming officials who can lead and fight. Banished from the capital after offending Yan Song, he started as a seventh-rank county magistrate in Jingnan. Yet, in just a year, he rose to a third-rank provincial governor, each promotion earned through victories against pirates!”
“Do you remember? Last time, Nakamura Koji led an elite force to disrupt the sea sacrifice. The few who escaped reported it was Zhu Ping’an who caused Nakamura’s near-total defeat,” Ye Zongman said slowly.
“Nakamura Koji had how many men? He fell into the court’s ambush. They mobilized a hundred thousand troops to trap him,” someone retorted.
“A hundred thousand? Nonsense! When Nakamura attacked, the Ming forces at Shazhou numbered just over ten thousand, with Zhu Ping’an’s Zhejiang troops only eight hundred,” Ye Zongman snorted.
“Even if there were ten thousand Ming troops, Nakamura had only three hundred men. Xu Hai sent maybe a hundred more, barely five hundred total. And Xu Hai, disloyal to Lord Huī, likely sent men who hindered more than helped. Nakamura’s three hundred nearly wiped out the court officials at the sea sacrifice. Zhu Ping’an’s nothing special,” another countered as soon as Ye Zongman finished.
“Heh, if General Ye is scared, stay at the port and guard the house. We’ll go deal with Zhu Ping’an and bring back his head for Lord Huī.”
“Yeah, if General Ye’s afraid, let us handle it.”
Several voices chimed in.
“You’re twisting my words. When did I say I was scared? I’m only saying we need to take Zhu Ping’an seriously,” Ye Zongman said angrily.
“Enough. Ah Man is right—taking the enemy seriously isn’t a bad thing. Zhu Ping’an deserves our attention,” Wang Zhi said gravely.
The next moment, he added casually, “One slash is enough for others, but for him, at least two.”
“Hahaha…”
“Exactly, one slash for others, but for Zhu Ping’an, we’ll give him two!”
The pirates burst into laughter.
“Actually, I find Zhu Ping’an’s military move this time rather strange,” Ye Zongman said after the laughter died down.
“What’s strange about it?” someone asked.
“You know *The Art of War* says, ‘War is a matter of vital importance to the state, a matter of life and death, survival or ruin. It must be thoroughly studied.’ And the *Book of Changes* says, ‘If the ruler is not discreet, he loses his ministers; if the minister is not discreet, he loses his life; if matters are not kept secret, harm follows.’ Secrecy is critical. These are phrases scholars love to quote. Zhu Ping’an, a top scholar, must know them. If he wanted to attack us, he’d come quietly, catching us off guard, maybe even scoring early victories. But look at him—he announced his campaign to the entire city, vowing to wipe out our coastal strongholds, as if afraid the world, or we, wouldn’t know. Don’t you find that odd?” Ye Zongman scanned the room, voicing his doubts.
“Doesn’t that just prove Zhu Ping’an’s nothing special? How smart can a scholar of the Four Books and Five Classics be?” someone retorted, their eyes deliberately lingering on Ye Zongman.
The remark, laced with sarcasm, indirectly targeted Ye Zongman, who often boasted of being a scholar, quoting ancient sages to show off his learning. Many were tired of it, and in mocking Zhu Ping’an’s scholarship, they took a jab at Ye Zongman too.
“He’s a top scholar. You say he’s not smart? Try passing the exams yourself if you’re so capable!” Ye Zongman snapped, catching their veiled insults and firing back.
“A scholar’s title doesn’t mean he’s smart. There’s a fool in my village who passed the exams, spouting ‘this and that’ all day but useless otherwise. He can’t even count change for a bun. Everyone laughs at him for reading himself stupid—a well-known waste,” someone countered, citing a village scholar to argue that passing exams didn’t equal intelligence.
“He made a grand show of mustering his troops, and we got the news. The day before yesterday, he announced to the city he was coming for us. The next morning, he held a swearing-in ceremony, and before it was even done, he started collecting money, asking the people to donate funds and goods. In half a day, he gathered at least thirty or forty thousand taels of silver and hundreds of livestock,” an informed pirate shared.
“What? Thirty or forty thousand taels in half a day? That’s robbery! These officials make money faster and easier than we do, without fighting or killing. That dog official deserves to die!” a pirate cursed, envious and resentful.
