Zheng Zhilong did not bother easing into the conversation, because subtlety had never really been his style, and when a man spent most of his life commanding fleets that could erase entire coastlines from relevance, he tended to skip straight to the point.
"I received an imperial order," he said, voice relaxed but carrying the weight of someone who was used to being obeyed without question, "it says you are organizing a rebellion near Hangzhou, and that I am to arrest you."
Zhu Yujian smiled, not the defensive kind, not even the diplomatic kind, but the kind of smile that suggested he had heard variations of that sentence so many times it had long since stopped being interesting.
"Over the years, there has never been a shortage of people trying to capture me, so I have developed a certain familiarity with the experience."
Zheng Zhilong burst into laughter, loud and genuine, the kind that made it very clear he was enjoying himself far more than the situation probably warranted, before his gaze drifted past Zhu Yujian and landed on the group of merchants standing behind him.
The merchants immediately straightened, instincts kicking in faster than dignity, bowing and greeting him in a chorus that carried just enough nervousness to betray how acutely aware they were of the man's reputation.
"Greetings, General Zheng."
Zheng Zhilong studied them for a moment, and then recognition flickered across his face, because a few of them were not strangers at all, but men he had crossed paths with in the chaotic, profit-driven world of maritime trade, where alliances were flexible and memory was often measured in silver.
"So it is you lot," he said, amused, "what exactly have you gotten yourselves into this time."
The merchants exchanged looks, and then one of them sighed, the kind of sigh that came from realizing things had escalated far beyond the original plan.
"We only intended to stir things up a little and make some opportunistic profit, nothing too dramatic, but then the Jinyiwei came knocking, and at that point there was no room left for moderation, so we rebelled, and to be honest, we were already preparing to head for the South Seas if everything fell apart, in which case we would have to rely on your protection."
Zheng Zhilong nodded slowly, not offended, not flattered, just acknowledging the logic of it, because in his world, survival always came before pride.
"The demands you made," he continued, "lifting the maritime ban, opening trade, limiting corruption, those are things I have wanted to bring up for a long time, but I am a military man, and when a military man starts talking about policy, people become suspicious very quickly, so I kept my mouth shut."
He paused just long enough to let that sink in.
"But now that all of you have said it out loud first, it would be rather awkward for me to pretend I disagree."
The merchants froze for half a second.
Then the meaning landed.
And when it did, the reaction was immediate.
Relief, excitement, disbelief, all colliding again, but this time amplified, because this was no longer just a prince offering legitimacy, this was the sea itself taking their side.
Zheng Zhilong did not let the moment linger too long.
"Let us not waste time dressing this up," he said casually, as if discussing a business arrangement rather than treason of the highest order, "I, Zheng Zhilong, will support the Prince of Tang, and we will overthrow the foolish ruler."
Silence lasted exactly one heartbeat.
Then it shattered.
The merchants stared at him, stunned not by the content, but by the sheer lack of hesitation, because most people would at least pretend to struggle with such a decision, whereas Zheng Zhilong had delivered it as if confirming the weather.
No concealment.
No hesitation.
No retreat.
And somehow that made it even more convincing.
One merchant inhaled sharply, then spoke as if afraid the moment would disappear if he did not seize it.
"We will also support His Highness and overturn the foolish ruler."
The others followed immediately, voices overlapping, urgency replacing caution.
"We pledge our support."
"We stand with the Prince of Tang."
Just like that, the matter was settled.
No ceremony.
No negotiation.
Just a shared understanding that the line had already been crossed, and there was no reason to pretend otherwise.
---
Zheng Zhilong had rebelled.
When that news spread, it did not ripple.
It detonated.
Compared to a group of merchants causing trouble, this was an entirely different scale of disaster, the kind that made the entire empire feel as if it had been shoved off balance.
When Zhu Youjian heard it, his mouth literally hung open, not out of theatrics, but because his mind had not yet caught up with reality.
It had started as a minor disturbance.
Then a prince became involved.
Now the dominant maritime power of the eastern seas had openly turned.
Each development stacked on top of the last, faster than he could process, faster than the court could stabilize.
The officials were visibly shaken.
"Your Majesty, the garrison forces in Fujian and the Liangguang region cannot possibly match Zheng Zhilong at sea, deploying them would be ineffective, what should we do?"
Zhu Youjian did what rulers often did when certainty failed him.
He looked for someone else to provide it.
His gaze shifted to the newly appointed Minister of War, Chen Xinjia.
Chen Xinjia cleared his throat, buying himself a moment to construct something that sounded like a plan.
"Well, Zheng Zhilong is a maritime power, so to deal with him, we must rely on naval strength, and at present, the only capable commander we have is the coastal commander…"
He paused.
"…Cao Wenzhao."
Zhu Youjian seized on that immediately, relief flooding in at the existence of something that resembled a solution.
"Yes, correct, dispatch Cao Wenzhao at once to suppress the rebellion."
"Your Majesty, that would be unwise."
A minister stepped forward, voice steady but carrying a tension that suggested he knew he was stepping into dangerous territory.
"Cao Wenzhao is currently stationed at Dalinghe Fortress, and cannot be withdrawn, Zheng Zhilong is formidable at sea, but on land he is far less threatening, we should prioritize eliminating the Jianzhou threat first, and only then return to deal with him, if we withdraw Cao Wenzhao now, the enemy may seize the opportunity to retake key positions, and we will lose everything we have gained."
Voices followed.
"I agree."
"We should deal with the external threat first."
Zhu Youjian's expression hardened.
"The rebellion led by the Prince of Tang strikes at the foundation of the state, it cannot be compared to the Jianzhou problem, which is merely a surface ailment, my order stands, recall Cao Wenzhao immediately, and I will hear no objections."
That was when one official, pushed just a little too far, muttered something he should not have.
"This is what happens when decisions rest in the hands of one person alone, if more people had the authority to decide, such reckless orders would not occur."
Zhu Youjian frowned.
"What did you say."
The official froze, instantly aware that he had stepped onto very thin ice.
"Nothing, Your Majesty."
Zhu Youjian had not heard clearly.
But the officials standing nearby had.
Two words.
Shared governance.
Lately, those words had been spreading among scholars and students across the empire, whispered, debated, quietly gaining weight, yet never openly brought before the throne.
No one dared.
And no one intended to start now.
---
Far away in Liaodong, at Dalinghe Fortress, the scars of recent destruction had already begun to disappear.
Months ago, the fortress had been reduced to ruin under aerial bombardment and artillery fire.
Now it stood again.
Rebuilt.
Restored.
Or, to put it more bluntly, the cement had finally dried.
Lu Xiangsheng stood atop the newly finished walls, running a hand across the smooth surface with an expression that hovered somewhere between satisfaction and disbelief.
"I have to admit," he said slowly, "a fortress built like this inspires a rather unreasonable level of confidence."
He was just about to laugh when something caught his eye.
A footprint.
Right there on the otherwise perfect surface.
Ugly.
Obvious.
Unforgivable.
His expression changed instantly.
"Who did this," he demanded, outrage rising with impressive speed, "who stepped on the cement before it dried, who is responsible for this crime against order."
A servant soldier leaned in, voice carefully neutral.
"My lord, that would be you."
Lu Xiangsheng blinked.
"I beg your pardon."
"A few days ago, you insisted on inspecting this section despite being told it was not ready, General Cao warned you, but you stepped on it anyway to see what would happen."
Silence.
Then realization arrived, slow but devastating.
At that time, he had just received the imperial order stripping him of his title, reducing him to a disgraced official tasked with redeeming himself, and the frustration had driven him to drink.
He had obtained a bottle of "Wuniangye" from Li DaoXuan, or something like that, the name had been a blur even then, and after that, his memory had simply… stopped cooperating.
Now the evidence stood before him.
Solid.
Permanent.
Embarrassing.
"…I see."
He crouched down, staring at the footprint as if it had personally betrayed him.
"What do we do about this."
The servant lowered his voice.
"I have seen the workers handle this, they add more cement and smooth it out."
"Of course," Lu Xiangsheng muttered, as if this were a deeply philosophical revelation.
He fetched fresh cement, carefully filled the imprint, and picked up a smoothing board, fully committed to repairing his own mistake.
At that exact moment, Cao Wenzhao walked over, took one look, and stopped.
"Lord Lu," he said slowly, trying to process the scene in front of him, "what exactly are you doing."