Chapter 464: Countermeasures

“I have a feeling something isn’t right…”

Zhu Ping’an spoke as he strode directly toward Li Shu, his expression tinged with seriousness, a rare shadow crossing his usually calm features.

“You… what are you going to do?” Li Shu instinctively took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her large, glistening eyes were wide with cautious alarm, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Zhu Ping’an didn’t answer. He simply walked past her, undeterred by the wary, almost feline gaze she cast upon him, until he reached the cabin’s porthole. This window faced away from the fleet; if any danger—swords, bloodshed, or calamity—approached from outside, it would have to come from the direction away from the escorting ships. With the naval escort in front, nothing hostile could come from that side.

Zhu Ping’an stepped up to the window and opened it. The dim glow from the ship’s lanterns revealed the raging storm outside: furious winds howled, waves rose like mountains, and in the distance, the sea was a vast expanse of ink-black nothingness.

But beyond the natural chaos, there was something far more sinister—something ordinary eyes could not see: a streak of blood-red smoke, unnaturally vibrant, hurtling across the darkened waters, heading straight toward them.

Zhu Ping’an’s eyes widened instantly, his expression hardening even further.

“Oh, Zhu Ping’an, the rain is coming in,” Li Shu pouted softly, noticing him at the window.

“We’re in trouble. Stay here in the cabin—don’t come out. I’ll be back soon,” Zhu Ping’an said, his voice carrying a weight of authority that left no room for argument. He turned toward the cabin door, but before he could take more than a step, a pair of delicate, pale hands grabbed the hem of his clothing.

“Zh-Zhu Ping’an… what’s happening?” Li Shu’s small, slender hands clutched at him. She had never seen him look so grave, so serious.

“Ships are approaching outside, and I fear their intentions are not friendly,” Zhu Ping’an admitted after a moment’s hesitation, revealing the grim truth he had discerned. He patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Stay here. I’ll go handle things and make sure they’re on high alert. I’ll be back quickly.”

Though he hadn’t actually seen the approaching vessels, the aura of impending bloodshed was unmistakable. If he were to describe it as a blood omen, no one would believe him. Saying it was ships made it believable.

“You’re lying, right? I don’t see any ships coming,” Li Shu said doubtfully, her gaze sharp and suspicious.

“My eyesight is slightly better than ordinary—it’s natural. There are five or six ships accelerating toward us. They chose this moment carefully, and I’m certain they don’t come with goodwill,” Zhu Ping’an explained, patting her shoulder again. His expression was unyielding. “I’ll go down for a moment. I’ll return very soon.”

“What… what ships?” the little maid asked, her face blank with confusion.

“You mean… pirates?” Li Shu looked up at Zhu Ping’an, panic flickering in her eyes.

“Pi-Pirates?!” The little maid shivered violently, almost on the verge of tears. “Master… please… don’t go…”

“If I catch you lying to me, you’ll regret it,” Li Shu said, releasing his clothing. She handed him a paper umbrella, hesitating for a moment before adding softly, “You… you come back quickly.”

Zhu Ping’an took the umbrella, nodded, and turned to step out. His face was grave, resolute.

The waves churned like boiling ink, the wind tore at the ship with relentless fury, and the black sea seemed to hold a cataclysmic, world-shattering force within its depths…

If precautions were taken, pirates—or any human threat—could be managed. But natural disasters? That was what truly deserved fear! Zhu Ping’an shook his head, dismissing the distracting thoughts, opened the umbrella, and descended the stairs. He would do his utmost and leave the rest to fate.

“Master Zhu.”

“Master Zhu… why are you coming down?”

As Zhu Ping’an reached the bottom deck, over thirty people—sailors, guards, and naval personnel—stood to greet him with respect. Despite his rank as only a sixth-grade official, for them, it was considerable authority.

Especially in the Ming Dynasty, civil officials outranked military officers. A single civil officer could openly scold a same-level military officer. Even a higher-level military officer had no authority over a lower-level civil official.

“Suspicious ships are approaching. Raise your alert levels and prepare to defend the vessel. If anything seems wrong, send an immediate signal for aid to the naval escort. Additionally, the sea is rough today—be ready for emergency situations.”

“Notify the nearby ships to prepare as well.”

Zhu Ping’an nodded, holding his umbrella tightly as he issued orders with a seriousness that brooked no questioning.

Suspicious ships? Prepare to defend the ship? Signal for naval aid? And… rough seas? We’ve sailed through rough waters countless times—what’s the big deal about this?

The crew exchanged glances, silently questioning their master’s sobriety. If Zhu Ping’an were not a sixth-grade official, they might have forcibly reminded him what reality looked like. But as it stood, whether he had overcautious fears or a lapse of judgment, they would obey.

“What’s the matter?” Zhu Ping’an’s gaze fell on them. For the first time in his life, he exerted authority purely by presence.

Though young, his sudden shift from amiable companion to commanding figure struck with undeniable force.

“Master, we’ll prepare immediately,” the crew bowed their heads, suppressing doubt, and began readying themselves as instructed.

Two officers moved quickly to organize the crew, ensuring armor and weapons were ready, crossbows and bullets loaded, muskets packed with powder. Sailors positioned small bronze cannons, each with five loaded cartridges, ready for battle.

Two others climbed to the bridge, lighting signal lamps and blowing the horns to warn nearby supply ships.

Satisfied, Zhu Ping’an nodded and issued a few more precise instructions. Opening his umbrella, he prepared to return upstairs. Before leaving, he asked, “Do you have any handy weapons for me?”

A small hand crossbow, six arrows wrapped around his wrist, and a sharp dagger were presented by the officers. If it weren’t for strict regulations on numbered firearms, they would have offered the muskets as well.

“Our safety rests in your hands, Master,” the crew said sincerely, bowing deeply.

In that moment, a profound sense of loyalty surged through them. Seeing their master entrust their lives to them, whether he was cautious or fearful, drunk or alert, they would give their all to protect him.