Chapter Twenty-Seven: Splendid Southern Rivers

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A sudden tornado claimed the lives of over five hundred elite retainers under Wang Pu’s command, leaving their bodies to the depths of the sea. Wang Pu and the remaining two hundred or so retainers were spared, but the ship’s mast had been snapped and the sails swept away, rendering them unable to continue sailing with the wind. They were left to drift aimlessly upon the vast ocean, their fate at the mercy of the tides.

After floating at sea for half a month, as their fresh water and provisions were nearly exhausted, it was Scarface, perched atop the broken mast as lookout, who first spotted land. Excitement made the scar on his face quiver as he shouted down to Wang Pu on the deck, “General, land! I see land! We’re saved! We’re saved, hahaha…”

Wang Pu immediately looked up and asked, “Where? In which direction?”

Scarface called back, “To the west, where the sun sets!”

“The direction of the setting sun?” Wang Pu shielded his eyes and gazed westward. Indeed, he could make out the faint outline of a coastline. Judging by the seemingly endless shore, it was likely not an island. It seemed that the lands ahead belonged to Great Ming, though he could not say exactly where they had arrived. One thing was certain: this was definitely not Shandong.

“Fishing boats!” Scarface shouted again from atop the mast. “There are two fishing boats ahead!”

Wang Pu followed the direction Scarface indicated and saw two small fishing vessels. He was about to order a boat lowered to send someone to inquire about their whereabouts when the fishermen aboard the vessels hurriedly hauled in their nets, turned their boats around, and rowed away at full speed. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the boats were but two small black dots on the horizon.

Wang Pu was taken aback. “What is going on?”

Little Qi gave a wry smile. “General, those fishermen must have mistaken us for pirates.”

Little Qi’s guess proved correct. Not long after the fishing boats vanished, about half an hour later, two large ships suddenly appeared on the sea ahead. Each warship’s mainmast flew a flag bearing the sun and moon, and rows of gunports lined their sides, from which protruded dark, stubby cannons—clearly warships of the Ming navy.

[The national flag of Great Ming: blue background, with a red sun and a yellow moon overlapping, symbolizing the character “Ming.” Twelve rays of light radiate from the red sun; four major rays point toward the four corners of the flag, signifying that the glory of Ming shines upon all the world.]

“It’s the Ming navy!” Scarface shouted. “We’ve really returned to Ming lands!”

At this, the retainers below deck rushed onto the deck, leaping and shouting, waving their hands at the approaching Ming warships, nearly mad with joy. Their excitement was understandable. When they had followed Wang Pu to Liaodong, they had never expected to return alive. Yet not only had they survived, they had brought back an incredible victory.

Wang Pu was also moved to the core. The feeling of coming back from the brink of death was beyond compare.

The two warships drew alongside from port and starboard, hemming Wang Pu’s vessel tightly in between. A Ming naval officer appeared above the bulwark and demanded sharply, “Who are you?”

Wang Pu stepped forward and replied loudly, “Wang Pu, Commander-in-Chief of Datong!”

“Wang Pu?” The officer muttered with a blank face, but then his expression changed dramatically. “What—you are Wang Pu, Commander-in-Chief of Datong?”

Wang Pu replied in a resounding voice, “I am indeed.”

The officer demanded, “What proof do you have?”

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Little Qi raised Wang Pu’s commander’s seal high above his head and called out, “Does this command seal suffice as proof?”

“It really is Commander Wang!” the naval officer suddenly bellowed. “Brothers, come and see—Commander Wang has returned victorious!”

At his shout, hundreds of sailors surged onto the deck, eager to catch a glimpse of Wang Pu.

At this time, Wang Pu was unaware that he was already off the coast of Songjiang Prefecture, and even less did he know that word of his daring raid deep into Liaodong, where he destroyed the Jin stronghold of Shengjing and captured their leader, Huang Taiji, had already spread throughout Jiangnan.

Jiangnan was a hub of scholarship and literary societies, such as the Restoration Society founded by Zhang Pu of Taicang, Jiangsu, whose members numbered in the thousands. They often gathered to exchange essays, compose poetry, and even criticize government affairs. Thus, Wang Pu’s feat had naturally become a hot topic among the literati.

It was no exaggeration to say that, as Wang Pu’s ship appeared off the coast of Songjiang, everyone from the high officials and nobles of the Southern Capital Nanjing to the commoners of every prefecture was talking about him. Even the courtesans of the Qinhuai River brothels discussed the exploits of Commander Wang Pu of Datong at their gatherings.

In sum, Wang Pu had become a household name across all the southern provinces.

■■■

Huating.

Qian Heng, Prefect of Songjiang, was hosting a banquet in the rear courtyard of the yamen to welcome his clan uncle, Qian Qianyi.

Qian Qianyi was renowned throughout Jiangnan, known as one of the region’s preeminent scholars. During the Tianqi reign, he had served as Vice Minister of Rites and was a leading figure of the Donglin Party. After losing out in court struggles to Wen Tiren and Zhou Yanru, he was dismissed from office and had been living in retirement for over a decade. Though over fifty, Qian Qianyi still frequented brothels and indulged in romance, earning him the affectionate nickname “Grandmaster of Romance” among the local literati.

To honor his distinguished uncle, Prefect Qian Heng had also invited several well-known Songjiang scholars, including Chen Zilong and Xia Yunyi.

[Both Chen Zilong and Xia Yunyi were members of the Restoration Society. After the fall of Southern Ming, they gave their lives resisting the Qing. Xia Yunyi’s son, Xia Wanchun, continued his father’s struggle and was executed by the Qing at only seventeen. Xia Wanchun’s poetry is renowned for its brilliance, not inferior to the three great masters of Jiangzuo.]

As the wine circulated, conversation naturally turned to Wang Pu’s exploits in Liaodong.

Chen Zilong remarked with emotion, “A true man should emulate Commander Wang, leading elite troops into battle, striking at the heart of the enemy, and earning merit for the state.”

Xia Yunyi sighed, “Indeed, the examination system is rife with corruption—true talent goes unrewarded, while schemers and opportunists succeed. It is enough to make one’s heart turn cold. Better to throw aside the pen, take up the sword, and go fight the Jurchens on the western frontier!”

Qian Heng was skeptical. “Do you two really believe the intelligence reports from the capital?”

Chen Zilong asked urgently, “Why? Do you mean to say it’s false?”

Qian Heng replied with confidence, “In my estimation, the entire affair is pure fabrication—a story concocted by His Majesty and the court to boost military and civilian morale.”

“That is impossible,” Xia Yunyi retorted. “The report came from Commissioner Hong’s return from Songshan to the capital. Would he dare deceive the emperor?”

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“Of course Commissioner Hong would not dare deceive His Majesty,” Qian Heng replied. “But as I understand it, the report he sent included the phrase, ‘This matter has yet to be fully verified. The court is requested to confirm the news through the Mongols and the Koreans.’”

Chen Zilong countered, “I’ve seen the report from the capital to Nanjing with my own eyes. That sentence was not included.”

Qian Heng insisted, “Which is why I dare say the whole thing is made up. Otherwise, it’s been a month by now—why is there still no news of this Wang Pu? Whether alive or dead, there should be some word!”

“Sir, hurry…” As Qian Heng finished, his secretary rushed in, breathless. “Please, quickly—go to greet—”

Qian Heng frowned in annoyance. “Did I not order that I was not to be disturbed unless it was urgent?”

The secretary took a deep breath and exclaimed, “Sir, reports have just arrived from the naval garrison at Jinshan—they encountered Commander Wang off the coast of Songjiang!”

“Commander Wang?” Qian Heng said coldly. “Which Commander Wang?”

“Who else could it be?” the secretary stamped his foot. “It’s Wang Pu, Commander of Datong!”

“What? Commander—Wang Pu of Datong?” Qian Heng’s face changed dramatically. “He—he’s off the coast of Songjiang?”

The others—Qian Qianyi, Chen Zilong, Xia Yunyi—also turned pale and stood up. They had just been speaking of Commander Wang, and now he had arrived in Songjiang. Wasn’t he supposed to be trapped by the Jurchens on Lianyun Island in Liaodong? How had he ended up off the coast of Songjiang?

The secretary explained, struggling for breath, “The naval officers say that after destroying the Jurchen base, Commander Wang withdrew to Korea, then set sail from Incheon, intending to return to Dengzhou. But they were caught in a typhoon at sea—three ships, two capsized, and fewer than three hundred survived. That’s how they drifted off course and ended up here.”

Qian Heng still refused to believe it. “Are you sure it’s really Commander Wang of Datong?”

“No doubt about it,” the secretary replied firmly. “They’ve verified the command seal, and he has the Jurchen leader, their prince, and two consorts—all on board.”

“Quick, assemble all the officials of the prefecture—we must go and greet them,” Qian Heng cried, grabbing his official robe and rushing out. After a few steps, he turned to the secretary, “And send a report at once—send word to Nanjing that the Jinshan naval garrison has brought Commander Wang and his men back by sea.”

Qian Heng was not above claiming credit; though Wang Pu’s arrival was by accident, he would make it out as if he had dispatched the navy to bring them home.

“Yes, yes!” the secretary replied. “I’ll see to it immediately.”

Rubbing his hands together excitedly, Qian Heng abandoned his guests and hurried away.

Chen Zilong turned to Qian Qianyi and Xia Yunyi. “Master Mu,”—Qian Qianyi’s courtesy name was Muzhai, and younger scholars addressed him as such—“and Zhongyi,”—Xia Yunyi’s courtesy name—“why don’t we go to greet them as well?”