Ming East India Company

"Master, these are cinchona seeds smuggled from the red-haired man."

On Kagoshima Island, in Shirano's official residence, two blond-haired, blue-eyed red-haired men were bowing respectfully to Shirano.

Adams, with Brant on his side, respectfully handed a packet of cinchona seeds to Bai Ye.

Bai Ye opened the package, and the dark brown, oblong tree species inside looked exceptionally dazzling in the twilight sunlight.

Bai Ye had seen cinchona seeds in his previous life and knew that Brant was not lying to him this time.

Shiro stood up and said to the two of them:

Do you know how to plant these tree species?

Brandt said very respectfully:

"Yes, I know. When my subordinates were searching for seeds in South America, they learned the planting methods from the local indigenous people."

Shirano glanced at the memory notebook that Brandt handed over, then helped Brandt up:

"Well done. From now on, you are a nobleman under my Ryukyu rule, enjoying the treatment of a bannerman. I will give you a fief of 500 koku."

Your next task is to go to Dongfan Island to reclaim the land and plant all the cinchona seeds there. If you succeed, I will give you an additional 2000 koku of land.

Brant, who was already basking in the glory of his newly acquired fiefdom, was immediately thrilled upon hearing of Baiye's generous reward. The thought of gaining another large territory filled him with excitement, and he readily agreed.

……

The wind is warm over the East China Sea, while fog shrouds the eastern frontier.

The continuous Qidu Valley is shrouded in year-round sea fog, with deep forests and dark soil that crumbles into soft, crumbly humus when touched.

Far from the dramatic temperature changes of Kyushu, this place is warm and humid with long stretches of diffused light. It is the pristine land in the East China Sea that Brant and Shirano personally selected for the large-scale cultivation of cinchona trees.

After Brant accepted the mission, Shirane gave Bai Kecheng orders in advance to prepare for the planting of cinchona trees on Dongfan Island.

The order was very simple: Brant was in charge of planting, and Bai Kecheng was in charge of supervision. No effort was spared in terms of manpower and time, and they were determined to make these life-saving tree species, which had been brought from thousands of miles away, a good medicine to fight malaria.

Bai Kecheng had already entered the valley several days earlier.

As a species introduced from thousands of miles away, no one had any experience in cultivating cinchona trees; even the Spanish could only cultivate them in their native habitat.

Among Bai Kecheng's immigrants, although there were some herbalists who had previously cultivated medicinal tree species, the varieties they cultivated were different.

Bai Kecheng dared not plant the seeds easily, so he could only loosen the soil and fertilize it first, waiting for Brandt to arrive.

Upon arriving at Qidu Valley, he personally led farm workers to clear land, based on his experience in planting common and precious medicinal trees.

In the fields, farmers wielded hoes to dig deep, each stroke reaching over a foot, turning the entire slope loose and clear, removing stones and grass roots one by one.

Bai Kecheng bent down, grabbed a handful of black soil to inspect it, crushed the clods with his knuckles, carefully checked the soil's dryness and looseness, and then smoothed out the uneven soil surface by brushing along the edge of the field.

He was very thoughtful: deep tilling of the fertile soil, meticulous preparation of the seedbed, and thick application of base fertilizer were the perfect ancient methods for planting and cultivating trees and seedlings during the Ming Dynasty.

The more fertile the soil and the deeper the soil is turned, the more vigorously the trees will grow.

As the autumn wind swept through the Qidu River Valley, Brant arrived as scheduled with the tree seeds.

The Ryukyu speedboat sailed into the harbor, and Brandt stepped into the valley through the sea mist.

Still covered in dust from the journey, he clutched tightly to the seed box wrapped in layers of beeswax and animal hide.

As he stepped into the valley, he immediately saw a flat, open, and thoroughly cultivated seedling slope.

Brandt paused, his expression shifting slightly.

He strode forward, squatted down, and pressed his palm heavily into the loose soil that had just been turned over.

The soil is loose and collapsed, with no firmness at the base.

He immediately looked up and addressed Bai Kecheng, who was approaching him, speaking frankly and firmly in a steady tone:

"Lord Bai, this land... cannot be planted like this."

Bai Kecheng was slightly taken aback.

He had been reclaiming and cultivating land on the island of Dongfan and had never heard of the saying that "if the land is prepared too well, it is not suitable for planting".

He raised his hand to signal the farm workers to stop and calmly asked:

"Mr. Brandt, farming begins with tilling and fertilizing. We've been tilling the soil for so long and added three layers of fertilizer. Now the soil is fertile, loose, and free of stones or waterlogging. What's wrong with it?"

Instead of engaging in empty rhetoric, Brandt reached out and grabbed a handful of loose humus, spreading it out in his palm for Bai Kecheng to examine closely.

"The cinchona tree has very shallow and soft roots."

He gently brushed aside the fine soil particles with his fingertips, his movements extremely light, as if afraid of crushing the invisible roots:

"This tree grows in the soil of fallen leaves over the years. If the soil is too loose, the tree will not be able to hold onto the ground after it grows up and will fall to the ground immediately. Therefore, there is never a place where the soil is completely loose when planting cinchona trees."

The reason the Spanish failed to cultivate it was because they didn't cultivate it in deep, fertile soil with excessive fertilizer and water. If the soil was too loose, the fine roots couldn't hold on; if the fertilizer was too concentrated, the tender seedlings would burn their roots; if the soil was too clean, there would be no fallen leaves to retain moisture and provide shade, so the seedlings would rot immediately when it rained or the wind blew.

As for fertilizing, this tree isn't your crop; too much fertilizer will only burn the seedlings.

As soon as he finished speaking, Brandt bent down and reached his hands into the seedbed to restore the soil layer by hand.

Without hoeing or shoveling, he used only his hands to gently compact, gather, and flatten the loose soil turned up by the farm workers, gradually pressing the overly loose surface soil back into a compact state.

As Brant pressed down the soil, he looked up and gestured to the stunned farm workers: "Stop all the deep-plowed seedbeds. Don't clear the land, don't remove all the weeds, and don't apply too much fertilizer."

He stood up, walked to the edge of the forest, reached out and tore off a handful of dry leaves and twigs, then carried them back to the seedbed and spread them evenly on the soil.

"Gather all these fallen leaves and throw them on the ground."

Bai Kecheng stepped forward, squatted down, and reached out to stroke the layer of fallen leaves that Brant had laid out.

He paused for a moment, then slowly nodded:

"As Mr. Brandt commands."

Although Bai Kecheng himself was ambitious, he also knew the importance of listening to professionals at crucial moments, so he listened to Brandt's advice without question.

At this point, the two officially began working together, one after the other, to cultivate the seedlings.

The first step is to process the seeds.

Brant opened the secret box in front of everyone and peeled off the layers of beeswax and animal skin.

Tiny, flat, dark brown cinchona seeds with translucent, thin, membranous wings lay quietly on the animal hide, as light as dust and scattered by the slightest breeze.

When Bai Kecheng saw these unusual seeds for the first time, he instinctively reached out to pick one up and examine it closely.

"Be gentle. These seeds break very easily," Brandt immediately whispered a reminder.

His own fingers moved extremely lightly, almost touching the soil with the pads of his fingers, gently brushing it, not daring to exert the slightest force:

"The seed wings are extremely brittle. If they are damaged during the sowing process, the seeds will become inactive and unable to germinate."

After saying this, Brant personally took some spring water from the mountains and filled a wooden bowl. He soaked the seeds in the warm water, just enough to make them float on the surface for a few moments, then scooped them out and laid them on a damp linen cloth.

Bai Kecheng observed intently and then asked, "Ordinary medicinal trees are always encouraged to sprout and grow quickly, so why does this tree do the opposite?"

As Brant gently spread the linen and evenly distributed the seeds, he replied:

"Cinchona trees originate from foggy areas, so they naturally grow slowly and sprout slowly. Forcing them to sprout will cause the root system to not develop properly, and they will die when transplanted. When cultivating seedlings, the locals let nature take its course, and slow sprouting allows the root system to become strong."

Upon hearing this, Bai Kecheng immediately kept it in mind and then personally adjusted the soil moisture, using a fine mist watering can to spray the seedbed, moistening the entire soil surface to the optimal state of being slightly damp but not waterlogged.

The next step is sowing and covering with soil, which is the most crucial and skill-testing step.

Brandt himself bent down, pinched a very small number of seeds between his fingertips, and gently scattered them on the soil, row by row.

His movements were very slow and careful, ensuring that the seeds were evenly spaced on every inch of soil surface, never piled up or sparsely distributed.

After spreading the soil, the farm workers picked up shovels and prepared to cover it with soil.

Stop.

Brant reached out and pressed down on the shovel handles of the farm workers, stopping them. Then he bent down, scooped up the fine soil with both hands, his fingertips trembling slightly, almost like sifting soil, letting the fine soil fall through his fingers onto the container he carried with him, and then evenly covered the seeds with the soil.

He explained to Bai Kecheng:

"Cinchona trees have very strict requirements for soil covering. Too much soil will crush the seedlings, and too little soil will cause them to die prematurely from the strong sun. The container I'm using now was sourced from the locals. If you can't figure it out by experimenting, just use this container for soil."

Bai Kecheng completely abandoned his own established experience and fully cooperated with Brandt's rhythm.

He then had Brant's container made into a replica, and then strictly followed that standard to fill the soil.

Bai Kecheng then personally adjusted the angle of the mountain shade structure, personally pulled up the hemp netting and reinforced the bamboo frame. He adjusted the shading scale little by little according to the intensity of the sunlight that day to ensure that only 30% diffused soft light was left.

Brant squatted at the edge of the seedbed, checking the thickness of the soil cover inch by inch. If he found that the soil was too thick in a certain place, he would brush it away by hand; if the seed wings were slightly exposed in a certain place, he would add a little fine soil by hand. He was extremely meticulous throughout the process.

The next step is routine maintenance.

The sun is strong during the day, and the sea breeze is dry.

Fearing the seedbeds would run dry, the farm workers, following their usual crop planting methods, carried buckets of water and prepared to flood the fields with irrigation.

Brandt saw it from afar and immediately rushed forward, reaching out to stop the bucket:

"You can't water them like that."

He took out the teapot from the table, filled it with water, and then personally sprayed it lightly onto the seedbed, only moistening the surface and not allowing water to accumulate at the bottom.

"This plant is susceptible to root rot from dampness."

As Brandt sprayed, he showed Bai Kecheng the surface of the soil:

"The best time to plant is when the soil is consistently moist but slightly dry. If you add too much water at once, you will drown the seedlings."

Bai Kecheng immediately understood and ordered a complete change to the watering system: take out all the teapots he could find and turn them into spray bottles.

As night fell, a thick fog rose over the Qidu Valley, making the air extremely humid.

Bai Kecheng was worried that the heavy fog at night would cause water to accumulate in the soil beds and cause root rot, so he personally led the craftsmen to dig fine ditches and clear the drainage. He also personally leveled the slope of the seedbed to ensure that the fog could flow and that the seedling roots would not get stuck.

Brandt, carrying an oil lamp, slowly inspected the seedbeds. He pressed himself close to the soil, carefully examining the condition of each tender sprout, gently touching the soil to feel its moisture, and sensing the temperature of the night breeze. If he found a spot too damp, he would personally lift the partial shade netting to allow for slight ventilation and moisture dissipation; if a spot was too dry, he would personally add a little more mist.

A few days later, as the morning fog dissipated, the first tender green shoots broke through the soil.

Tiny, needle-like sprouts timidly push through the thin soil, trembling slightly in the damp mountain breeze.

Bai Kecheng squatted in front of the seedlings, his eyes filled with excitement. He had never seen such uniformly sprouted, tender yet plump seedlings of this exotic species.

As the seedlings grow, they enter the stage of pruning and strengthening the trunk.

Once the seedlings have grown to over a foot tall, side branches and fine leaves sprout one after another, scattering nutrients in a chaotic manner.

Bai Kecheng held the shears in his hand, about to use the usual methods for pruning messy branches and thinning leaves to let in light.

Brandt stepped forward again, gently cupped the blade of his scissors, and whispered, "Cut lightly, never overcut."

He reached out and gently stroked the slender stem of the tender seedling, his fingertips moving very lightly:

"The main trunk of the cinchona tree has the strongest medicinal properties. Heavy pruning will damage the trunk, cause sap to flow out and deplete its strength, and the bark will become less bitter and the medicinal effect will be greatly reduced in the future. It is sufficient to pinch off the overgrown buds, keep the straight trunk, and remove the messy shoots."

After saying that, Brandt personally demonstrated.

He doesn't use sharp blades or large pruning shears; he simply pinches away excess buds and overgrown shoots with his fingertips, his movements gentle and precise, without damaging the main trunk in the slightest.

Bai Kecheng watched his technique and immediately changed his approach, following his rhythm closely. He pinched and left, thinned and preserved, and the two of them walked side by side in the forest, pruning each tree and arranging each row neatly.

A month or so later, the entire valley was covered with green shoots and new forests were beginning to emerge.

The saplings all have straight trunks and green leaves, grow uniformly, and there are no dead seedlings, no rotten roots, and no excessive growth.

Brant stood in the woods, gazing at the newly sprouted greenery covering the mountains, and finally let go of all his worries.

He traveled halfway around the world, risked his life to obtain the seed, and sought the wisdom of the Native Americans in dire circumstances, and today it has finally come to fruition.

Bai Kecheng stood beside him, gazing at the vibrant green amidst the endless misty forest, and sighed with heartfelt emotion:

"From then on, the East China Sea had quinine forests, and Ryukyu was free from the scourge of maritime plagues for generations to come. You sacrificed your life to raise a species and nurtured people with your true teachings; your merit will last for millennia."

The sea breeze rustles through the valley, and the new leaves in the forest whisper softly.

The first cinchona grove in the Ryukyu Kingdom finally saw the light of day in these seven valleys.

For Bai Kecheng, the shadow of malaria that had been looming over him for more than half a year finally eased a little.

When the news reached Kagoshima, Shirano was overjoyed and served three meals of braised pork as a celebration.

For him, although the cinchona tree was still several years away from being able to survive and be harvested for medicinal purposes.

But once you've made a start, all you need to do next is mindlessly pile on manpower.

According to the Shirano Plan, malaria will no longer be a bottleneck for immigration to the Ryukyu Kingdom within three to five years.

Of course, this will also bring a problem: after doing this, quinine will most likely become widespread 200 years earlier than it was originally in history.

This will also shorten the period of malaria drug resistance. Historically, quinine was used for about a hundred years before it was replaced by artemisinin due to the progress of malaria drug resistance.

Artemisinin also faces the problem of declining drug efficacy due to drug resistance, although it is slower than quinine.

If history had unfolded as originally planned, by the 21st century, even Artemisia annua might not have been able to suppress the malaria parasite.

As for when... well, let's just live for today and see what happens. Some problems will depend on the wisdom of future generations.

However, compared to the current issue of artemisinin, Baiye has another pressing problem to solve: food.