Ming East India Company

Even with utmost care and dedication, it was still difficult to satisfy the Dutch East India Company's greedy tax demands.

Every inventory check revealed that almost every village was short of supplies.

Whenever discrepancies were found in the accounts, William's tyranny would be unleashed without restraint.

He firmly believed in the colonial iron law circulating in the Dutch army: to be lenient with the natives was to fail the company.

He doesn't speak Malay, but he doesn't need to. Power and the sword are, after all, universal languages.

If the shortage was small, he would whip the person.

The long leather whip whistled through the air as it lashed the backs of the young and strong indigenous men. With each lash, their clothes tore, their flesh turned red, and blood crisscrossed the wounds. The villagers trembled in pain, biting their teeth so hard they dared not groan. The children huddled in the women's arms, weeping silently, not daring to make a sound.

If the shortfall is too large, or if any indigenous people dare to show reluctance or kneel down to beg for leniency, William will begin to use more severe collection methods.

On September 15, Chen Shouyi and William inspected Hatala village near Ambon as usual.

Storm leaves from the Little Ice Age have affected the climate of the Spice Islands, and the village of Hatalai has not received enough rain this year, resulting in a severe drop in clove production.

Accompanied by two Black soldiers, William Van Jansen gathered the villagers in an open space at the edge of the village, where they lined up one by one to collect their taxes.

His face quickly darkened; this year's taxes were less than half of the agreed amount.

The village chief, sensing the anger in William's eyes, knelt and kowtowed, touching his forehead to the ground, pleading in broken Western language:

"This year's rainy season has been too dry, and the trees are not bearing fruit. We simply cannot meet the company's quota. Your Excellency Mr. William, please forgive our mistake. We will make up for the delay next year."

Before he could finish speaking, William's face had already turned frosty.

Before the chief could finish speaking, he suddenly dismounted and kicked the kneeling chief hard.

The poor old chief, nearing sixty and frail, fell to the ground, bleeding from his mouth and nose.

William grabbed the chief by the collar and said menacingly:

"Don't make any excuses for me. Is this the first time the Spice Islands have experienced insufficient rainfall? Didn't you prepare in advance? If there's insufficient rainfall this year, what about next year? What if there's insufficient rainfall every year from now on?"

William then drew his short axe from his waist, his eyes expressionless, and looked at the old chief, saying, "I think it's time for you lambs to experience the shepherd's whip."

Having said that, William spotted an old woman in the crowd and raised his axe to strike.

A flash of cold light, accompanied by a piercing scream, and a withered hand fell to the ground.

The blood instantly stained the warm soil red, and the stench overpowered the faint fragrance of cloves.

"This is the price you pay for your tax arrears."

William rebuked them in cold Dutch, his voice piercing the deathly silence of the village.

The old woman was the chief's wife, and blood was still seeping from her wrist.

"The taxes you owe must be paid in full within one month, or I will cut off the hands and feet of your wives and children and put them in front of you, just as I did today."

This is just the beginning of the punishment; further punishments await you if you continue to default.

That's his rule.

Within months, fear gripped the seven villages. Whenever William visited, the villages were filled with unease. In just a few months, several indigenous people, unable to pay their taxes and to avoid implicating their families, chose to hang themselves.

When the Dutch garrison officers heard about his methods, they not only did not reprimand him, but praised him repeatedly.

The superior officer stated frankly:

"Mr. William is an excellent employee whose actions have effectively protected the interests of the company and its shareholders."

William's actions became increasingly ruthless, paving his way to advancement with the blood and tears of the indigenous people.

Chen Shouyi, who stood silently to the side the whole time, remained silent.

Each time, he would hold the ledger and meticulously record the amount of tax paid and the amount of shortfall for each household, as if everything happening in the world had nothing to do with him.

After each of William's acts of cruelty, when the soldiers' vigilance was relaxed and the villagers' morale collapsed, Chen Shouyi would always use the excuse of organizing account books, checking lists, and collecting tax goods to quietly stay until the end.

He would bend down and help up the injured indigenous people who had collapsed on the ground, take out the herbal ointment and dry food he always carried from his pocket, and silently hand them over.

He used his amazing linguistic talent and communication skills to get close to these natives:

"Mr. William has a bad temper, so don't confront him directly. If you encounter any difficulties with the collection process in the future, tell me in advance, and I will try to find a way to plead with William on your behalf."

The natives were initially very wary of this man with yellow skin, but whose complexion and physique were quite different from theirs, and they thought he was an accomplice of the Dutch.

However, as time went on, the indigenous people found that each time they talked to Chen Shouyi in advance, things really changed a lot.

The once-feared tax collector William was no longer so vicious; they received fewer lashes and fewer people had their hands and feet cut off.

It seems this guy possesses a magical power that allows him to subdue William, this ferocious and violent monster.

not only that.

Whenever a village suffered a crop failure due to a natural disaster and was severely punished by William, Chen Shouyi would always secretly make a small alteration to the last few entries in the account book.

Exempt each village from some taxes.

William, the Dutch tax collector who was with him, seemed to be very bad at math, and he couldn't see through this trick at all.

What's even more unbelievable to the indigenous people is that all of this was based on Chen Shouyi's complete selflessness. Throughout the entire process, he did not extort any payment from the indigenous people. He even resolutely refused to accept gifts offered by some of the indigenous people.

When he encountered a local tribesman whose family member had been crippled by losing a hand, he would secretly instruct the village chief when no one was around:

"Take care of these poor people! I'll change their names in the tax records and delay Lord William's wrath a bit longer."

He never disobeyed William's orders, never pleaded in public, never broke the rules of the colonial government, and never revealed anything unusual.

He always stood in a subordinate, servant position, seemingly submitting to all tyranny, but in the cracks unseen by anyone, he gradually extended the lives of the suffering indigenous people, relieved their pressure, and shielded them from harm.

Over time, the native inhabitants of the seven villages gradually came to understand the strange master-servant pair.

The Western official William was a butcher's knife hanging over their heads—cold-blooded, ruthless, and merciless, knowing only how to impose heavy taxes, torture, and slaughter, and regarding the lives of the natives as worthless.

The silent East Asian servant, Ashou, was the only refuge they could seek.

At first, everyone was simply grateful and secretly bowed to him in gratitude.

Later, whenever Chen Shouyi went to the countryside, the children in the village no longer hid, the women would secretly offer him clean mountain spring water, and the working locals would take the initiative to guide him and avoid the thorns on the road.

One plays the good cop and the other the bad cop; this is a classic way of managing people since ancient times.

William was happy with this arrangement. On the one hand, as a long-term spy, he didn't need to develop relationships with the natives. On the other hand, this method also allowed him to squeeze out a considerable amount of money.

Day after day, Chen Shouyi followed William through every lilac grove and every nutmeg garden, stepping through the morning mist and the afterglow of the setting sun.

Under the guise of tax collection and inspection, he not only developed relations with the indigenous people, but also gained a detailed understanding of the farming methods used in the Spice Islands to cultivate cloves, cardamom, and other spices.

He also learned about the strict control the Dutch exercised over spice seeds.

To maintain its monopoly, the Netherlands established strict rules: anyone was strictly prohibited from taking away spice seeds or seedlings without permission, and anyone found doing so would be sentenced to death; nutmeg berries sold abroad were soaked in lime beforehand to destroy their germination activity, thus preventing their introduction from elsewhere; heavy troops were stationed throughout the archipelago, and checkpoints were set up at every sea route; maritime maps were deliberately altered to prevent outsiders from coveting the islands.

Furthermore, the Dutch implemented a system similar to the Baojia system (a system of mutual responsibility and collective punishment) for the island's villagers, prohibiting the natives from escaping; prohibiting them from contacting other white races; and prohibiting them from crossing the jurisdiction of the various tax collectors to live in other villages.

Even marriages and funerals within the indigenous communities were strictly restricted, allowing indigenous people to marry within the same tax zone. This was to prevent them from forming a network of power across different areas through weddings, which could ultimately threaten Dutch rule.

Clearly, Chen Shouyi still has a lot to do in order to break through the blockade.

When the time was ripe, Chen Shouyi finally opened up and revealed a world that these natives, trapped in the spice cage, had never seen before.

"Do you know? The spices in your hands are worth several times their weight in gold."

"Beyond the Spice Islands, there are other wonderful places to go. My birthplace, Ryukyu, is a place where you can farm without paying taxes."

"The King of Ryukyu is now hoping day and night for help from the Spice Islands. If you flee there, you can not only escape your current fate, but also gain the treatment of nobles."

"The Dutch control of the Spice Islands and their oppression of you are for the sake of the spices you have. If spices could be produced elsewhere, they would certainly not enslave you like this anymore."

……

His words touched the hearts of the indigenous people.

Soon, rumors about Ryukyu began to circulate in several villages under William's rule.

In this era when information is not yet widespread, any fantasy about distant countries will be transformed into the image of a paradise on earth through rumors.

Countless natives began to dream of the wonderful life they would have after going to Ryukyu one day.

The following year, Ambon Island experienced an unprecedentedly long rainy season.

In previous years, although the rainy season in Southeast Asia was long, there were always sunny days interspersed, allowing the locals to harvest, dry, and store spices. But this year, dark clouds lingered over the islands for months, and torrential rain poured down day and night.

The sea breeze, carrying cold rain and mist, swept across the lilac groves and nutmeg gardens of Hatalai village, leaving the forests puddled with water and the soil muddy and soft.

The torrential rains caused widespread damage, completely disrupting the growth cycle of spices.

The lilac buds, which were just about to bear fruit and seeds, were brutally knocked down by the continuous torrential rain, falling into the mud and water, and rotting and dissolving in the blink of an eye; the nutmeg fruits, which were still swelling, were waterlogged and cracked, becoming moldy and empty; the roots of the fragrant forest in the low-lying areas were soaked in water for a long time, and large areas of branches and leaves withered and died.

As the rainy season comes to an end and the sun shines, the fragrant forests covering the mountains and fields are no longer as lush as they were in previous years.

The once lush, verdant forests, laden with flower buds, are now sparse, with withered branches and fallen leaves scattered everywhere.

Villagers in Hatalai went into the mountains to count their harvest, and everyone looked pale – the village's total spice production was less than 30% of what it used to be.

All the hard work of the year was destroyed by the relentless rain.

The village of Hatallai had long struggled to survive under heavy Dutch taxes, spending every penny each year just to stay afloat.

With natural disasters reducing production, the harvest volume is only 30%, which is far from enough to cover even a fraction of the tax revenue from previous years.

The indigenous people were filled with fear and their cries of sorrow echoed throughout the land.

The old chief, accompanied by the village elders, carrying a few dried cloves and shriveled nutmeg kernels, braved the remaining rain to personally plead with the colonial tax station, earnestly requesting William's superiors to consider the natural disaster and reduce taxes accordingly.

As for why they didn't approach William, it's because they had long since given up on expecting this brutal tax collector to be merciful.

However, the laws of the Dutch Colonial Office never contained the phrase "exemption from natural disasters".

VOC's shareholders, located far away in Europe, only look at the financial statements and profits, ignoring the natural disasters and man-made calamities in Southeast Asia. Spices are the foundation of the company's monopolistic profits, and the price in the European market is absolutely not allowed to fluctuate. The promotion assessment of the colonial governors is based solely on the total amount of spices stored in the warehouse each year and the profit price.

William was ordered to oversee tax collection, and he refused to budge an inch.

After a year in office, he became increasingly shrewd and ruthless within the colonial system. He knew that if he made an exception and reduced taxes in his jurisdiction, his superiors would see it as lax governance and slack discipline, which would affect his career advancement.

Facing the indigenous elder who was kneeling and pleading, covered in mud, William remained expressionless, his tone as cold and hard as iron.

No matter how much the elders kowtowed and wept, recounted the disaster, and lamented the villagers' loss of harvest, William remained unmoved.

When the tax decree reached the village, the entire village fell into a deathly silence of despair.

Heavy rains destroyed the harvest, and the colonial governor refused to reduce taxes, demanding that 30% of the harvest be offset by the full amount of heavy taxes.

This meant that even after the entire village had given everything they had and paid every last grain, they still owed a huge debt in spice taxes. What awaited them was still flogging, amputation of hands, hard labor, and collective punishment.

During the day, the villagers stood motionless in the desolate mountains and forests, staring at the rotting spices and withered trees, their hands and feet cold, on the verge of tears. A year of farming, a year of toil, braving scorching sun and torrential rain, only to end up with nothing to show for it, and facing punishment for their sins.

In previous years, paying taxes still resulted in mutilation and bleeding; this year, with disaster and crop failure, all that awaits the entire village is the destruction of families and the loss of lives.

Even more frightening is that the same scene is playing out in every village on Ambon Island, with almost all the Dutch tax collectors competing to see who can exploit the resources the most.

Escape, we must escape.

This became a consensus among the indigenous people of every island.

Many indigenous people abandoned their estates and businesses, choosing to retreat into the rainforests deep within the islands.

Although the area was teeming with venomous snakes and insects, the Dutch whips and knives were more terrifying than any venomous snake in the world.

However, some people are unwilling to continue living a miserable existence deep in the rainforest for generations.

Chen Shouyi's description of Ryukyu Island inspired them to fight to the death.

Trees move to death, people move to live.