Chapter 455: Really Amazing

Three hundred years since the founding of the Great Ming—and the imperial navy had never once tasted defeat!

Naturally, there was a reason for that.

Zhu Ping’an stood on the deck, gazing out over the boundless sea where warships floated in disciplined formations, arranged precisely according to tactical arrays. He could not help but nod in quiet approval. It was true that after the implementation of the maritime prohibitions, the size and number of Ming naval vessels had shrunk by more than half. Yet even so, warships stretching thirty to forty meters across the waves still represented an overwhelming advantage compared to the technologically backward pirates of Wa, as well as the fleets of Joseon and the various nations of Southeast Asia nearby.

The Marquis of Linhuai, Li Tingzhu, truly had some skill. Whether it was his own command ability, or that of his subordinate generals and staff officers, the fact that he could maneuver this fleet with such order and precision—like an extension of his own arms—proved that Li Tingzhu was indeed worthy of the post of Supreme Commander of River and Naval Forces.

The fleet was divided into two sections: combat vessels and non-combat vessels. There were more than twenty warships in total, varying in size, with Li Tingzhu’s flagship being the largest among them. The non-combat vessels numbered eight. Aside from the one carrying Zhu Ping’an and Li Shu—which leaned more toward a pleasure craft—the rest were responsible for logistics, supplies, and rescue operations.

The flagship itself was a massive Fu ship, over forty meters long, with two masts and three deck levels. Thick protective railings encircled it like the walls of a miniature fortress, and the prow was reinforced with iron plating. While still at the dock, Zhu Ping’an had roughly counted more than thirty cannons mounted on the flagship alone. As for its other armaments, he was not entirely sure, but they were likely centered on firearms such as fire-tubes and bird-guns, supplemented by cold weapons like crossbows and throwing spears.

In addition to Fu ships, the combat fleet also included medium and smaller vessels—Haicang ships, twin-mast cannon ships, Cangshan ships, and others of various types.

The fleet was commanded through a combination of flag signals, gongs, drums, and horns.

Not long after departure, Zhu Ping’an, standing on the deck, saw Li Tingzhu’s flagship repeatedly raise and wave flags of different colors. The fleet immediately responded, moving in orderly fashion according to the signals. The warships spread out ahead in a broad arc, forming a protective and scouting screen, while the non-combat ships followed behind at a slightly slower pace. Considerable distance was maintained between each vessel, for at sea, if two ships sailed too closely side by side, the pressure of the water flow could easily cause a collision.

From the deck, Zhu Ping’an could only make out the combat ships ahead as a row of indistinct black dots. The nearby supply ships, however, were close enough that their outlines were clearly visible.

During the day, they relied on the compass; at night, on star-guiding techniques. Along the Ming coastline, nautical charts further ensured safe passage. The fleet’s journey remained smooth and uneventful. By the time the second day approached noon, the wind shifted. The flagship raised a signal ordering the fleet to temporarily anchor near the coast to rest.

In the open sea, anchoring was impossible—only near shore could anchors be dropped. With charts in hand and seasoned sailors aboard, finding a suitable beach was no trouble at all. Soon, they located a stretch of coast ideal for a brief stop. The ships lined up in a row, each lowering anchor to rest and regroup.

The beach formed a concave bay. Outside, the winds and waves were fierce, but here the water lay calm and gentle. In the distance, several massive seabirds glided effortlessly over the ocean. Warm sunlight spilled across the waves, leaving the entire surface shimmering with molten gold.

During the rest period, the Marquis of Linhuai dispatched six warships to patrol and maintain vigilance in nearby waters.

Zhu Ping’an leaned against the railing, watching the patrolling ships cut through the sea, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Miss, look—there are fish!” Baozi, the little maid, clung to the railing, staring at the churning water below. Her small face was flushed red with excitement.

“Really?” Li Shu’s eyes lit up.

“Yes, Miss! At least this big!” Baozi exclaimed, her cheeks glowing as she stretched out her hands to gesture enthusiastically, unable to contain her excitement.

Lifting her skirts, Li Shu walked over to the railing and peered down at the sparkling sea below with keen interest. Baozi stood beside her, stretching out a small hand to point at where a large fish had just leapt from the water. Each time the surface rippled again, the two girls cried out in delight.

“Let’s go fishing. Miss, let’s fish!” Baozi suggested eagerly, eyes shining as she blinked rapidly at the lively sea.

A child worth teaching.

Li Shu looked at Baozi and nodded with satisfaction. In truth, even without the suggestion, she had already wanted to fish. Ever since they were out at sea, she had been itching to cast a line, but with the ship constantly in motion, it was impossible. Now that they had stopped, how could she miss such a chance? Baozi’s proposal struck perfectly at her heart.

Thus, Li Shu ordered someone to bring out the fishing gear they had purchased before boarding. They began setting it up on the deck, preparing to fish. But none of them had ever assembled fishing equipment before. Staring at the float, line, hooks, rod, and bait, they were completely at a loss.

“I’ll do it.”

Zhu Ping’an walked over and crouched down. With practiced ease, he fixed the float onto the line, tied three hooks in place, and secured the line firmly to the rod. The entire setup took less than three minutes.

“Master-in-law is amazing!” Baozi stared at the completed gear in awe, her face full of admiration, little stars practically sparkling in her eyes.

Li Shu, however, curled her lips dismissively and even rolled her eyes when she heard Baozi’s praise.

“You seem rather unimpressed. Why don’t you do it yourself?” Zhu Ping’an said with a slight curl of his lips. He placed the assembled rod into Baozi’s hands, then handed the unassembled set to Li Shu.

“Who cares! I’ll do it myself then!” Li Shu shot him a glare, huffing indignantly.

“Miss, you can use this one,” Baozi said, offering the assembled rod to Li Shu.

“I don’t want something made by a certain someone.”

At that, Li Shu glared fiercely at Baozi. The little maid immediately shrank back, daring not to extend her hands again.

Yet assembling fishing gear, though it looked simple, was anything but easy—especially for someone like Li Shu, whose hands had never known labor. Despite her initial confidence, after several attempts she still failed. Even fixing the float onto the line became an insurmountable problem. In the end, she had no choice but to seek help from Zhu Ping’an.

“Hey, set it up for me,” Li Shu said as she walked over to him. Though her cheeks were slightly red, her proud, tsundere tone remained unchanged.

“Hey? Who’s ‘hey’? Where?” Zhu Ping’an deliberately turned his head, scanning the surroundings before looking back at her with an expression of exaggerated confusion.

Teasing a certain proud little girl—watching her turn red while trying to keep her haughty air—was surprisingly entertaining.

“Zhu Ping’an, set it up for me,” Li Shu said, her delicate face turning even redder.

“I’d love to, but just now someone seemed rather disdainful,” Zhu Ping’an said, stretching lazily.

“You…” Li Shu puffed up her cheeks and glared at him.

Zhu Ping’an merely shrugged, utterly unmoved by her little white-eyed glare.

In the end, only after Li Shu—face burning red—admitted that he was “really amazing,” did Zhu Ping’an finally smile in satisfaction and help her assemble the fishing gear. Naturally, he also prepared a set for himself.