Total War: Restoration of the Ming Dynasty in Luzon

Thinking of this, his expression softened slightly. He cupped his hands in greeting and said, "I dare not presume to offer guidance. My name is Lin Lisheng, and I run a rice business in Linjiayan. You seem unfamiliar, and you speak with a local accent, so you must be new here?"

"Indeed, my surname is Zhu, and my given name is Heng." Zhu Jiheng smiled and said, "We came from Taiwan with some raw silk and sugar, hoping to try our luck. Unfortunately, we encountered a storm on the way, and the ship was severely damaged. We could only temporarily anchor in a small bay and then walk to Lin Jiayan to check the situation."

He paused, then flattered her, saying, "Manager Lin runs a rice shop, which is essential to people's livelihood. It's no small business. My apologies for not respecting you."

"Boss Zhu, you're too kind." Hearing about the other man's plight and hearing him address him as "manager," Lin Lisheng's face showed a hint of satisfaction. His wariness lessened considerably, and he became more talkative.

"Lingayan is indeed convenient for doing business. The French control the docks and collect taxes. As long as you pay the license fees and taxes according to the rules, they don't make things too difficult for merchants. However..." He lowered his voice a few decibels as he finished speaking.

"But what?" Zhu Jiheng pressed.

"Things have been a bit tense lately. The French are checking more strictly, especially us Chinese. They'll ask a few more questions when you enter the city, but as long as Boss Zhu and his men don't have anything illegal, it'll be fine."

"Oh? Things have gotten tense? Has something changed?" Zhu Jiheng feigned surprise and probed along with the other party's words.

Seeing that Zhu Jiheng was completely clueless, Lin Lisheng was even more convinced that he was a newcomer. Out of concern for his fellow townsman, he patiently explained:

"Sigh, it's the same old story! The Franks are insatiable. A few days ago they added some kind of surcharge on maritime trade, specifically targeting us Chinese merchants. Several big trading companies in the city are discussing countermeasures, and some hot-blooded young men... Sigh, never mind."

"If Boss Zhu is only staying briefly to buy and sell goods, he should keep a low profile. If he needs a place to stay, the owner of the Dongcheng Yuelai Inn is also from Quanzhou, so he's quite fair."

Zhu Jiheng understood immediately; this matched the intelligence Lin Chen had gathered in Braan. He smiled gratefully and said:

"Thank you for your advice, Manager Lin. It's truly a blessing to meet such a helpful person on our journey. We've only come to scout ahead and haven't brought any goods. We wonder if we could enter the city with Manager Lin's caravan? It would give us both some courage and save us some trouble when we enter the city. This is just a small token of our appreciation; consider it an invitation to have some tea with my brothers."

As he spoke, he discreetly took out a small piece of silver, about an ounce, that he had initially found on the Qing soldiers, from his sleeve and stuffed it into Lin Lisheng's hand.

Lin Lisheng was delighted to receive the heavy silver ingot. The other party was generous and they were both from Fujian. Entering the city together would indeed reduce the trouble of being checked.

Without further hesitation, he stuffed the silver into his pocket, his smile becoming much more genuine: "Boss Zhu, you're too kind! It was nothing at all. Let's go together then, it's on the way. If the Frankish soldiers ask when we enter the city, just say you're a customer of my Lin's Rice Shop, transporting some northern goods."

The two groups joined forces, and Lin Lisheng was once again surprised to see that Zhu Jiheng's men were all riding tall horses and looking very spirited. He became even more curious about Zhu Jiheng's background.

The group traveled south and finally arrived at the outskirts of Lingayen before dusk.

As they approached the city gate, the atmosphere changed noticeably. At the town entrance, surrounded by low earthen walls and dilapidated wooden fences, stood four or five languid Spanish soldiers, dressed in faded red uniforms, with muskets and spears casually slung over their shoulders.

They surveyed the passersby with haughty eyes, showing particular harshness towards the indigenous people and Chinese.

"Stop! What are you doing?" A soldier with a thick beard, who looked like a minor leader, stepped forward and shouted loudly in broken Chinese as the convoy approached, stopping Lin Lisheng's convoy. However, his gaze was more focused on Zhu Jiheng and the general's guard, especially their tall horses.

Lin Lisheng was clearly familiar with this procedure. He immediately stepped forward with a beaming smile, expertly handing over a few silver coins, and said:

"Sir, you've worked hard! I work for Lin's Rice Shop in the city. I just brought back some new rice from the north. These are my fellow villagers, merchants from the north who brought some furs and mountain goods. They plan to stay in the city for a few days." He pointed to Zhu Jiheng.

The soldier weighed the silver coins in his hand, glanced at the sacks on the oxcart and the packages on Zhu Jiheng and the others' horses, and stared at the adjutant and the others for a few moments. The adjutant and the others lowered their heads slightly, avoiding his scrutinizing gaze, and tried their best to appear respectful.

"Nice horse," the soldier muttered in Spanish. His companion chuckled maliciously. He waved his hand impatiently and said, "Go in! You know the rules, don't cause trouble! Pay your taxes on time!"

"Yes, yes, thank you, General Xie! Certainly!" Lin Lisheng responded repeatedly and quickly signaled the convoy to enter the city.

After slipping through the city gates and stepping into Lin Jiayan's streets, Zhu Jiheng finally breathed a sigh of relief, but his nerves remained tense.

The scene before him was not much different from the European city he had imagined: narrow and crowded streets lined with densely packed wooden or brick houses, and the air filled with a complex mixture of smells of the sea, spices, animal dung and sweat.

Among the pedestrians, the majority were simply dressed Chinese. They walked in a hurry, and most of them looked tired. Occasionally, indigenous women wearing brightly colored sarongs would walk by, while the arrogant Spaniards or Europeans stood out conspicuously.

Some shops have signs with Chinese characters—rice shops, cloth shops, pawnshops, blacksmith shops—and occasionally you can see shops or taverns with signs in Spanish.

As Zhu Jiheng followed Lin Lisheng's convoy toward the east of the city, he discreetly observed everything. The situation of the Chinese in Lingayan was indeed not good—he saw with his own eyes two Spanish soldiers roughly shoving an elderly Chinese man selling fruit at a stall, cursing and swearing, seemingly accusing him of taking up too much space or not paying some kind of fee.

The old man pleaded desperately, while the surrounding Chinese watched from a distance, their eyes filled with anger, but no one dared to step forward. It wasn't until the old man tremblingly pulled out a few copper coins and stuffed them into the soldier's hand that the soldier left, cursing under his breath.

"Hmph! These red-haired devils!" Lin Lisheng also saw this scene, spat under his breath, his face full of resentment but also helplessness: "Boss Zhu saw it, right? This is the rule of the Westerners, it's like this every day."

Zhu Jiheng suppressed his anger, his face remaining impassive, and asked in a deep voice, "Why don't they resist? The Franks aren't many in number."

Upon hearing this, Lin Lisheng's face showed a complex expression of bitterness and helplessness. He looked around to make sure no Spanish soldiers were nearby before lowering his voice and saying:

"Boss Zhu, you're new here and don't understand. Rebellion is easier said than done. Although the Franks are few, they have muskets and cannons, and fortified fortresses. In the two great calamities of the Wanli era and twenty years ago, countless Chinese were killed, their blood staining the Pasig River red! Those who survive now all have families to support, elderly parents, young children, and businesses. Who would want to be the first to stick their neck out? Besides..."

He paused, his voice lower, tinged with despair: "Even if we successfully drive away the Francois here after the uprising, the Manila army will arrive in an instant. What then? We'll still end up with our families destroyed and our lives ruined... Just endure it, we can only endure it, hoping that one day God will have mercy, or... or maybe we'll really see the mighty army arrive."