On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

East China Sea, "Black Water Ocean".

Between the lead-gray sea and sky, the three giant ships of the Daqian Navy, "Zhenhai", "Dingyuan" and "Polang", are like silent steel islands, with their anchor chains deeply immersed in the cold sea water.

A few miles away, the huge figure of the "Santa Maria", the flagship of the Castilian Far East Fleet, led more than ten warships, like a wandering shadow, slowly moving southward, heading towards the outskirts of the distant Spice Islands.

Observation posts on both fleets exchanged silent, vigilant glances through the cold lenses of their telescopes. The sea breeze whimpered, the waves surged, and in this empty sea, a silent struggle raged in the distance and silence.

On the bridge of the "Breaking Waves", the hem of Lin Zhen's black cloak fluttered slightly in the cold wind.

He put down the high-powered telescope in his hand and cast a deep gaze at the Western sail that was gradually moving away.

"Heading due south, our target is the outer anchorage of the Spice Islands." Admiral Zhao Meng reported the observation post's assessment in a low voice, "They are looking for a place to stay."

"The landing point," Lin Zhen said in a low voice, "is also an observation point."

He turned, his gaze sweeping over the officers on the bridge, who were standing ready. "Maintain formation at anchor and stand by. Exocet Three and Exocet Five, advance, maintain a distance of twenty miles, and rotate surveillance. Record their speed, formation changes, and flag signals. Do not approach within five miles unless under attack."

"Yes!" The messenger quickly passed on the order.

"Marshal," Zhao Meng's eyes flashed with worry, "The Spice Islands have many islands and complex waterways. If they occupy one and establish a stronghold..."

"That's all right." Lin Zhen's eyes were calm. "The Nanyang Protectorate's navy has stepped up its patrols, and the Borneo fortress is also receiving reinforcements. If they dare to land on the island, they'll be walking into a trap."

He once again looked in the direction the Western Fleet had disappeared. "They're testing my limits, and waiting for the right moment to send a detailed report to Nanjing."

"Yes!"

Quanzhou Shipyard, the core workshop of the Fenlei Division. A scorching wave of air, mixed with the smell of steam and metal, hit me in the face.

Inside the huge furnace, the white-hot molten iron rolled and boiled, making a low roar.

The red light of the fire reflected on Chu Xiling's cold face, and beads of sweat oozed from her forehead, but her eyes were fixed on a set of complex molds next to the furnace.

"The temperature meets the standard and the component test is qualified." The engineer stared at the instrument with a hoarse voice.

"Casting!" Chu Xiling's voice was steady, yet filled with unquestionable strength.

The heavy gate opens!

The hot molten iron gushed out like lava and was poured into the huge sand mold engraved with complex patterns!

White smoke rose with a hissing sound, and the air was filled with a pungent smell of sulfur and metal.

"Cooling system activated!" the engineer yelled.

Icy circulating water flowed through pre-buried pipes, quickly enveloping the scorching mold. The drastic temperature difference caused the mold to groan softly. Everyone held their breath, waiting.

Time passed by minute by minute. When the mold temperature dropped to a safe range, the crane slowly lifted the heavy upper mold.

"It's done!" A young craftsman couldn't help but exclaim.

In the center of the mold, a huge, thick, black main shaft with a cold metallic luster lies quietly, and its surface is covered with precision-cast gear meshing grooves and reinforcing ribs.

This is the core load-bearing component specially made for the main turret rotation mechanism of the "Zhenhai-class" giant ship.

Chu Xiling walked forward, brushing her fingertips across the cold surface of the main shaft, feeling the even and dense texture.

"Non-destructive testing." she ordered.

Several craftsmen immediately stepped forward and carefully struck various parts of the main shaft with a special "sonic probe hammer", listening attentively to the echo.

A "magnetic particle detector" is also used to apply special magnetic powder to check for fine cracks.

"Report to the master! No cracks! No pores! The structure is dense!" The craftsman's voice was filled with excitement.

Chu Xiling nodded slightly, and a barely perceptible glimmer flashed in her cold eyes.

She walked to another workbench. There, a prototype of a new armor-piercing projectile sat quietly. The projectile had a streamlined shape, made not of pure steel but a matte-luster alloy, tipped with a harder tungsten cap.

"Tungsten steel capped armor-piercing bullet." She picked up the bullet and weighed it. "How many bullets can the Santa Maria's broadside armor withstand?"

In a corner of the workshop, several apprentices from the Institute of Gewu were gathered around an improved "crystal microscope", analyzing a piece of wrought iron sample cut from a Western musket.

Under the lens, the network-like brittle structure formed by sulfur and phosphorus impurities in iron is clearly visible.

Another apprentice was quickly recording the operating data of an improved model of the escapement mechanism of a Western chime clock. The sound of the gears meshing was crisp and steady.

The technological barriers were broken through inch by inch in the sweat and fire.

In Quanzhou Port, deep in the "Fanfang", there is a heavily guarded independent courtyard.

Inside the room, candlelight flickered. Baron Ferdinand, his blond hair dull and his blue eyes sunken, had traded his once-ornate tight-fitting coat for a plain cotton robe. He sat in a carved wooden chair, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the tabletop.

Opposite him stood Yan Feng, a captain of the Minyue Commandery of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, dressed in dark clothes and with a calm expression, as cold as a rock.

On the table was a rough nautical chart drawn by an artist based on Ferdinand's dictation. It marked several important colonial outposts of the Kingdom of Castile in the New World, as well as a dotted line called the "Spice Route" that went from the New World around the Cape of Storms to the Spice Islands.

"Your Excellency," Yan Feng said in a low voice, "you seem to have reservations about the detailed charts of the Spice Route, the monsoon patterns, and the locations of the supply points."

Ferdinand's eyes flickered: "This is the kingdom's top secret."

"Confidential?" Yan Feng's lips curled up in a cold arc. "Is the keel structure of the Santa Maria considered confidential? What is the draft of Count Alvarez's flagship? What is the range of its main guns? How long does it take to reload?"

Ferdinand's body stiffened suddenly. The other party's question hit him precisely where he knew it was most vulnerable.

"I need a promise," he said, his voice hoarse, "that my men and I get out safely."

"Leave safely?" Yan Feng's eyes were sharp as a knife. "You colluded with the local king, incited rebellion, and smuggled arms. According to Daqian law, you deserve to be hanged ten times. Your value lies in clearing up what's in your head. Perhaps you can find a way to survive in Daqian's prison."

Ferdinand's face turned pale instantly.

He stood up suddenly, then sat down again dejectedly, covering his face with his hands.

After a long time, he raised his head, his eyes filled with desperate struggle.

"Give me a pen and paper."

Yan Feng gestured, and a Tiqi placed paper and pen in front of him.

With trembling hands, Ferdinand began to add more detailed marks to the chart: the time of monsoon alternation, the location of several hidden freshwater supply islands and reefs, and the coordinates of a secret small repair point set up by Castile on the outskirts of the Spice Islands. He wrote very slowly, and every stroke was like cutting his own flesh.

Yan Feng watched quietly, his cold eyes expressionless.

He knew this was just the beginning. This Western noble, in order to survive, would slowly reveal everything he knew.

The empire's cage is slowly tightening.

Nanyang, Emerald Island.

In front of the newly built "Nanyang Protectorate Emerald Inspection Office", the former local king "Heishi" was shirtless. The thorns on his back had been removed long ago, but the bloodstains left on his dark skin were still glaring.

He changed into coarse clothes and was commanding a group of dejected former warriors to carry stones and wood to build a road leading to the new garrison camp.

Not far away, a team of black-armored soldiers, holding muskets, watched expressionlessly.

"Hurry up! What are you dawdling for!" Heishi roared, his voice hoarse, but without the fierceness of the past, only fatigue and resignation remained.

He looked up towards the port, where two "Flying Fish" clippers were anchored, their dark muzzles glowing coldly in the sunlight.

He thought of the blazing column of water that shot up from the sea that day, and his body shuddered involuntarily.

A clerk from the Inspection Office came over with a book and said, "Heishi, please check the number of stones delivered today."

"Yes." Heishi bowed quickly and checked carefully.

On the distant hillside, the fat figure of Baturu, the local king of Lilac Island, was "inspecting" his lilac forest surrounded by a group of guards.

He wore a humble smile and bowed to the accompanying inspection officer, saying, "Sir, this forest will surely yield a good harvest this year, and the taxes will be paid in full and on time."

But his heart was filled with fear.

The end of the Emerald Isle was imminent. He secretly congratulated himself on not completely siding with the Westerners like Blackstone had, but he also knew that his private acceptance of Ferdinand's bribes might not be hidden from the eyes of the Embroidered Uniform Guards.

Now he just wants to perform hard and exchange loyalty and taxes for peace.

The sea breeze brought the rich aroma of cloves, as well as a subtle smell of rust and gunpowder.