Twenty miles from Mao Haifeng’s temporary camp, a force of about 20,000 Japanese pirates was advancing. At the heart of the army, a four-horse open carriage, surrounded by a thousand fierce pirates in golden helmets and armour, moved slowly forward. Above the carriage, a five-edged, bright golden umbrella served as both a ceremonial display and a shield from sun or rain.
Wang Zhi, dressed in a scarlet Japanese king’s robe adorned with gold-threaded five-clawed dragons and a jade belt, knelt in the carriage. At his feet, two Japanese women in kimonos attended to him carefully, pouring tea, serving water, and massaging his shoulders. Both women were strikingly beautiful, the kind who’d be influencers in modern times, their movements graceful and refined, their massage techniques skilled, clearly trained to serve expertly.
“Haifeng and Otomo are known for their prowess in battle, invincible against small bands of rogues or minor garrison troops, winning every fight,” Wang Zhi mused. “But who’d have thought, facing 8,000 Zhejiang troops, they’d suffer such a crushing defeat. They still lack experience, it seems. Young eagles can’t conquer stormy skies.”
A pirate with a traditional Japanese chonmage hairstyle rode up to Wang Zhi’s carriage, unable to suppress a smirk. His name was Xue Tao, a veteran among Wang Zhi’s earliest followers, now a commander of a thousand pirates under Wang’s direct command. He hadn’t risen as high as Mao Haifeng, a younger man who was already one of the ten elite commanders, leading a force eight times larger than Xue’s. Outranked by a junior, Xue had long yearned to surpass him.
Now, with Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadagawa’s major defeat, Xue saw a golden opportunity. He’d grown tired of being overshadowed, dreaming of leading his own fleet of thousands, plundering the Jiangnan region, amassing gold, silver, jewels, and women to his heart’s content, earning a lofty status among the pirates. Who wouldn’t want such a life of power, wealth, and women? Xue Tao had craved it for ages.
He envied Mao Haifeng’s command of a fleet, believing the younger man’s only advantages were his youth and adoption as Wang Zhi’s son. Xue, older even than Wang Zhi by a year, couldn’t claim the same bond, or he’d have called Wang “father” long ago.
“I didn’t expect their combined forces to lose, with nearly twice Zhu Ping’an’s numbers,” Wang Zhi said softly, narrowing his eyes. He’d thought they might win narrowly, stalemate, or lose slightly, given Zhu Ping’an’s reputation. But a total rout? Unthinkable. Truth be told, Wang was deeply displeased.
Their record against government forces was overwhelmingly victorious, especially after Zhu Wan’s downfall, almost undefeated, like fathers disciplining sons. Yet Haifeng and Otomo, with double Zhu Ping’an’s forces, had lost. Wang Zhi was far from satisfied.
“That’s why they need more training,” Xue Tao sighed, shaking his head. “Only through great storms can true gold shine. I’ve fought countless fierce battles with you, my king. The government troops are always our defeated foes, never daring to act arrogantly!”
Wang Zhi sipped his tea.
“If Haifeng and Otomo had even a tenth of your skill, my king, the Zhejiang troops would be crushed, and Zhu Ping’an would be bound at your feet by now,” Xue continued.
Wang Zhi drank again, not responding.
Seeing no reply, Xue pressed on, “In my view, Haifeng and Otomo need more seasoning. If they could learn at your side for a few years, even grasping a fraction of your skill, they wouldn’t lose so badly against a foe like Zhu Ping’an.”
This was Xue’s clever plan: have Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadagawa train under Wang Zhi. Mao, Wang’s adopted son, was practically his heir, especially after Wang’s mother, wife, and children were executed by the Ming court. Everyone knew Mao would inherit Wang’s mantle. A defeat wouldn’t warrant harsh punishment, but some penalty was necessary to maintain discipline. Sending them to learn under Wang for years was a palatable solution, freeing up their positions for Xue to seize.
“We’ll see when we get there,” Wang Zhi said coolly, reserving judgment until he assessed the situation.
“My king, when we reach the battlefield, I request to lead the vanguard and face Zhu Ping’an. If I fail, take my head,” Xue Tao volunteered boldly, pledging a military oath.
“Well said, Old Xue, your passion hasn’t dimmed,” Wang Zhi praised, glancing at him. “Your heart’s in the right place, but no rush for the vanguard. We’ll decide after seeing the situation. If a battle’s needed, you’ll be my first choice.”
“I’ll serve you like a loyal dog or horse,” Xue said excitedly, certain that as vanguard, he’d crush Zhu Ping’an, rise in rank, claim a fleet, and live the dream.
Defeat? Impossible.
Just then, a commotion arose ahead, pirates craning their necks to see something.
“Go check what’s happening, all that noise. Report back quickly,” Xue ordered.
“Report: Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadagawa are on their way to pay respects to the king,” came the swift reply.
Soon, the sound of hooves echoed, and the figures of Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadagawa appeared, riding towards them.
