Chapter 60: A New Beginning, All Things Renewed

Wang Cheng “listened” to this fellow’s desperate pleas for survival, compared them to the original words of the Japanese leader, and was utterly astonished. Yet, glancing back at his “special asset,” he felt not the slightest surprise.

[Special Asset: Gao Ren
Internal cultivation method “Rat Breathing Technique” at minor achievement; fluent in four languages: Great Zhao, Japanese, Frankish, and Dutch.
Life Fate: Officer-Killer Fate.
Overwhelming Officer-Killer stars serve as an adverse force; when encountering periods or years dominated by Officer-Killer, it forms an Officer-Killer assault, easily leading to disasters involving superiors, always targeting the one directly above.
When in danger, often survives by sacrificing his superior.
Value: 4,000 incense coins (a talent at the county level, a rare asset)
Note: Chief, vice-chief, purser, helmsman, and master rigger are the highest ranks on the Ziying, but not Gao’s own limit.]

“Truly a talent!” Wang Cheng praised.

He had never intended to let this batch of Japanese continue manning the ship, even if they all proved as docile as interpreter Gao Ren—he wouldn’t dare use them. Few understood the ruthlessness of these Japanese better than he did. They were as merciless to themselves as to others—the infamous kamikaze carbon-based guided bombs were their invention.

He had no doubt that if he tried to force them into cooperation with violence, the moment he let his guard down, some fearless fool would ignite the powder magazine and perish with the ship.

So, Wang Cheng set aside the harmless interpreter Gao Ren and first ordered Zhang Wen to douse all the bound crew members awake.

Then, he approached the chief technician, Da Liao, disregarding the interpreter’s suddenly pale face, and addressed him fluently in Japanese:

“There’s an ancient saying in Shenzhou: ‘To the wise, all things are precious!’ If you’re willing to teach me your navigation skills, I’ll give you a swift death. What do you say?”

Da Liao scoffed, replying with another ancient saying: “Hmph! There’s also a saying in Shenzhou: ‘Better shattered jade than intact tile.’ Save your breath. Kill me or flay me—it’s up to you.”

Wang Cheng, rebuffed, suddenly realized that his charming ancestors had indeed coined an abundance of contradictory proverbs.

“A prodigal’s return is more precious than gold; yet a fine horse does not eat the grass behind it.”
“A rabbit doesn’t eat the grass at its burrow; yet those close to water get the moon first.”
“A real man would rather die than submit; yet a real man knows when to bend and when to stand tall…”

There were countless examples. So, you’ve run out of old sayings? No wonder disciples of Confucius could always “argue with reason”—armed with so many proverbs, it was hard not to.

In the end, Wang Cheng realized he was no good at verbal sparring; his negotiation skills were next to none. So, he glared:

“Don’t you Islanders have your own proverbs? Drown him for me!”

At his command, the shadow beneath Da Liao’s body rippled like water; a pair of hands shot out from the darkness, seizing his throat.

Watching Da Liao’s upper body dragged into the shadow by the evil spirit, his face turning purple-red and nearing death by asphyxiation, Wang Cheng thought to himself:

“One day, when I gather thirteen warships and raise an army, when I invade the sixty-six provinces of the Isles, I’ll ban the Japanese language entirely!”

Then, the evil spirit’s grip relaxed, and Da Liao, like a fish out of water, stretched his neck and gasped frantically.

“Huff… Huff…”

But after just a couple of breaths, he was dragged down again.

It was like the punishment of “face-plastering,” tormenting both mind and body. After a few repetitions, the once unyielding Da Liao felt his lungs might burst and broke down on the spot.

“Kill… kill me! I’ll agree to anything!”

There are not so many truly fearless men in this world; perseverance only lasts as long as the suffering isn’t too severe.

Master Wang was still too soft-hearted. He wondered, if he employed the infamous ten tortures of the Manchus, might the victim turn into the most vicious evil spirit on the spot?

With this “chicken,” it became much easier to break the will of the others.

“Are you all willing to teach me your navigation skills?” he demanded.

The leaders, riggers, gunners, and marines all begged for mercy:

“We’ll teach, we’ll teach!”
“I’ll teach too, just grant me a swift death!”

Although the “Universal Exchange” platform was founded on willing trade and fair dealing, once he held the clients’ lives in his hands, there was always a way to complete a “fair transaction.”

After Wang Cheng’s series of moves, only a few diehards continued to resist, and they were taken aside by Zhang Wu and his men for special treatment.

According to the Frankish organization, most crew aboard were marines skilled in close combat, some were temple soldiers—ghostly marines—but the highest value lay with the riggers and gunners.

After each transaction, Wang Cheng ultimately acquired ninety-eight versions, of varying proficiency, of the “Eight Blades of Breaking Waves” and “Gunnery Technique” (firearms), and several ghostly powers from the ghost marines.

He also obtained dozens of sets of “Sailing Technique,” “Helmsmanship,” and “Gunnery Operation,” essential for maneuvering a warship under sail.

In no time, he had assembled a complete set of necessary ship-handling skills.

Every bit of value the Japanese crew had was wrung dry, leaving only human dregs, who were then all sold through the “Universal Exchange” for fortune.

Not even a scrap was wasted.

He then collected a copper coin from each of his native crew, and, posing as a “Steward of the Court,” sold these navigation secrets to his own loyal men.

In an instant, they inherited the skills the Japanese had spent years perfecting; some, like Zhang Wu and Zhang Wen, even became jacks-of-all-trades.

Though they had heard tales from Wang Cheng about the wonders of “selling offices and titles,” experiencing it firsthand still seemed unbelievable—some of the more emotional were moved to tears.

“The honors and profits the Captain wins are truly shared with us all.”
“Without the Captain, we’d have nothing today!”

“This is a debt of rebirth. Loyalty, always!”

Some crew, busy disciplining the few remaining holdouts, felt that to strike less than six blows a second was to tarnish their loyalty to the Captain.

Wang Cheng was glad he had taken on the role of “Steward of the Court”—it gave him plausible cover. By the time his extraordinary trading abilities became even slightly apparent, his power would already be snowballing.

Any issues? Ask my ship’s cannons.

Soon after, Wang Cheng found the still-unconscious Monkey Two, along with the “Golden Restraining Band” on its head.

Unfortunately, he had only the band, not the incantation nor an official “Monkey Handler,” so he couldn’t make use of it for now. He stashed it in the “magical treasury” of his cash-eye, to be dealt with later.

Thus, Wang Cheng had, in one stroke, traded his musket for a cannon.

With this warship—Blue Gown—if he could succeed in formalizing his credentials and mastering a few unique or arcane skills from the “Guide to Favorable Winds,” he would instantly become one of the prominent captains in the East Sea, with the capital to intervene in Moon Harbor affairs.

The reborn crew cleaned the ship from stem to stern and took up their new stations according to their freshly acquired skills.

Full of vigor, Wang Cheng gave the order:

“Set sail for home! It’s time for us to earn our credentials!”

The crew waved their blades and spears, cheering in unison:

“Roar—!”

As New Year’s Eve passed, the very first rays of the 40th year of Shaozhi drove away the clouds and illuminated Wang Cheng.

A new cycle begins, and all things are renewed.

Two months ago, he was a dog with nowhere to turn; today, for the first time, he gained the confidence to fight back.

From now on, as they invade us, so may we invade them!

…

Once the warship had sailed off,

Interpreter Gao Ren jerked awake on a lifeboat, looked at the provisions and water prepared aboard, and for a long while could not collect his thoughts.

“I think I drank too much at the banquet and fell asleep without realizing it. But where is our great Ziying? Where is everyone? What about that fishing boat?”

He shook his head vigorously, suspecting he’d blacked out and lost some crucial memory, but could not recall anything.

After sitting for a while, a cold wind made him shiver.

“No, I must return to Five Peaks Banner and pay respects to Lord Mountain-Bearer. Without a patron, I can’t feel safe—not for a single day.”

But gazing at the endless sea and his own tiny boat, he was filled with helpless despair.

In the end, he had no choice but to steel himself for once and begin rowing north with all his might.