With Dao Xuan Tianzun personally stepping forward to make the introduction, the entire admission process naturally became as smooth as it could possibly be. There were no letters of recommendation to prepare, no formal endorsements to gather, and no complicated procedures to navigate. Under his name alone, everything was settled. At last, Yao Xingjuan was officially admitted.
When he and E'zhe went to report to the principal's office, Yao Xingjuan could hardly believe what he was seeing. The principal of the Naval Academy was none other than Dao Xuan Tianzun himself.
Seated comfortably in a large armchair behind a heavy wooden desk, the so called Naval Combat Specialist Tianzun looked less like a distant divine figure and more like a seasoned headmaster overseeing his academy. As E'zhe and Yao Xingjuan stepped forward to report, he greeted them with an easy smile.
"Study diligently," he said in a calm and steady tone. "Cultivate your abilities well and strive to serve the nation as soon as you are capable."
The words were not grand, yet coming from him, they carried unusual weight. The two boys felt their spirits surge. By the time they left the office, their steps were so quick that they nearly broke into a run, eager to prove themselves worthy of the encouragement they had just received.
They had barely taken their seats in the classroom and opened their textbooks to a lesson on ocean currents when a sudden disturbance erupted outside. The sound of hurried footsteps and raised voices drifted through the windows, drawing the attention of the entire class. Several students rushed to the windows to see what was happening.
A small group had entered the sports field at speed. At the front was a young female reporter holding a microphone, and behind her followed a special task force carrying a massive camera mounted on a sturdy tripod.
She raised her voice and called out, "Is Master here at the school today? Does anyone know if Master is around?"
The reporter was a student from the Gao Family Village News Department and one of Dao Xuan Tianzun's disciples. Others addressed him formally as Dao Xuan Tianzun, but she had the privilege of calling him Master.
Yao Xingjuan and E'zhe leaned out of the window together.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun was just in the principal's office," Yao Xingjuan shouted back. "We are not sure if he is still there."
The reporter's expression brightened immediately. "Good. I have urgent news that must be reported to Master."
Without wasting another second, she hurried toward the principal's office.
It did not take long before Dao Xuan Tianzun emerged alongside her and walked toward the center of the sports field where the camera had been set up. Students poured out of their classrooms, gathering in growing numbers to see what was happening. Yao Xingjuan and E'zhe naturally joined the crowd.
Dao Xuan Tianzun's face was serious as he turned to the reporter. "Is the footage bloody?" he asked quietly. "Is it suitable for children?"
The reporter lowered her voice in response. "Master, the footage is extremely bloody. It would be inappropriate to broadcast it directly on Gaojia News. Very young children should not see this."
His gaze swept across the gathered students and paused briefly on the ten year old E'zhe.
Before Dao Xuan Tianzun could speak, E'zhe raised his chin and said firmly, "I am not an ordinary child. I grew up amidst war and have seen countless scenes of death. No matter how bloody it is, there is no need to shield me."
Dao Xuan Tianzun regarded him for a moment, then nodded slightly. He understood that children raised on the Mongolian grasslands in turbulent times were not as sheltered as modern city children. Shielding E'zhe from harsh realities would serve little purpose.
"In that case," he said aloud, "everyone proceed to the screening room. This material will not be broadcast publicly. Ordinary citizens will not see these images. However, this is a military academy, and you are all future soldiers. You have the right and the responsibility to understand what is happening."
He reached into the camera equipment and pulled out a TF card that was absurdly large, nearly the size of a door panel. Several members of the special task force lifted it carefully and carried it toward the screening room.
Inside, a tablet computer had already been set up. Since Zhoushan Island had not yet entered Dao Xuan Tianzun's direct field of view, he could not simply place devices there at will. The tablet had been transported by ship, and the villagers had painstakingly installed it using improvised tools. Even the solar power system had taken considerable effort to complete, but for the sake of knowledge and education, they had endured the hardship without complaint.
Once everything was ready, Dao Xuan Tianzun inserted the TF card, opened the file, and pressed play.
The footage that appeared on the screen was raw and unedited, devoid of narration or commentary.
A group of Dutch soldiers sat calmly to one side, muskets in hand, watching.
On the opposite side of the frame, a group of dark haired men were slaughtering another group of dark haired men.
It was not chaotic combat. It was a one sided massacre.
Blood soaked the sand. Severed heads tumbled across the ground. Some of the attackers lifted freshly cut heads by the hair and swung them with disturbing ease, blood spilling freely from the torn necks.
A wave of shocked gasps swept through the Naval Academy students.
"Where is this happening?" someone demanded.
"This is not even a battle," another student said under his breath. "It is slaughter for the sake of slaughter."
"Those people look like subjects of our Great Ming," a voice called out. "Why are the Dutch just sitting there watching as if it is entertainment?"
"What exactly is going on?"
At that moment, the camera began to tremble slightly and then slowly zoomed out. What had seemed like close range footage was revealed to have been filmed from a considerable distance, the lens magnifying the horror from afar. As the image widened, the surrounding landscape came into view.
The massacre was taking place on a narrow beach, hemmed in by steep mountains on both sides.
One of the older students, a former pirate who had been reformed through labor rehabilitation, suddenly cried out, "That is Yizhou Island."
A murmur spread through the room.
"It really is Yizhou."
"So the natives of Yizhou are killing other natives while the Dutch simply watch?"
"Do not call them red haired barbarians," someone corrected. "The court may use that term, but the Dao Xuan Tianzun told us they are called the Dutch."
"Fine, the Dutch," another student replied. "They have allied with one tribe and are letting them massacre another."
"This practice is called chucao," a student explained.
"What does that mean?"
"It is a custom among some indigenous tribes of Yizhou Island. It refers to headhunting."
The room grew heavy with murmurs and uneasy whispers.
Dao Xuan Tianzun stepped forward and stood before the screen. "We will treat this as an additional lesson," he said calmly. "I will be your lecturer for this session."
With a smooth motion of his hand, he brought up a detailed map of Yizhou Island.
He pointed to one section. "In the year 1624, during the fourth year of the Tianqi era, the Dutch arrived here and established a city. From that point onward, they began enslaving the surrounding indigenous populations while attempting to monopolize trade in East Asia."
He continued steadily, allowing the students time to absorb each detail. "To secure that monopoly, they employed many methods. Among them was the support of pirates."
He glanced around the room with a faint smile. "Is Zheng Sen present today?"
A student stood and responded, "Reporting to the Heavenly Lord, Zheng Sen and Shi Lang have led the fleet to Pi Island to deliver supplies to the garrison and will not return for several days."
"In that case," Dao Xuan Tianzun replied with a light tone, "this is an excellent opportunity to discuss his father's past without interruption."
Laughter broke out, easing the oppressive atmosphere slightly. The students were accustomed to his teaching style, which often blended serious history with subtle humor.
"Zheng Sen's father, Zheng Zhilong, was once a pirate supported by the Dutch in their attempt to control maritime trade," he said.
The room fell silent in shock.
E'zhe could not hold back. "But I have seen The Battle of Liaoluo Bay," he protested. "You made that film yourself. Zheng Zhilong was portrayed as a righteous hero who defeated the Dutch. How could he have been supported by them before that?"
Dao Xuan Tianzun smiled, pleased by the question.
"That is precisely why history must be studied carefully," he replied. "Zheng Zhilong did indeed receive support from the Dutch in his early years. However, he was ambitious and unwilling to remain their pawn. When the Great Ming court offered amnesty and official recognition, he seized the opportunity to free himself from Dutch control on Yizhou Island. Once independent, he turned his fleet against them. That shift in allegiance ultimately led to the Battle of Liaoluo Bay."
Gradually, the students began to grasp the complexity of the situation.
"For many years, from the fourth year of Tianqi until the eighth year of Chongzhen two years ago, the Ming court and the Dutch were entangled in ongoing trade disputes. Only after those tensions stabilized did the Dutch devote greater attention to consolidating their control over Yizhou Island. What you have just witnessed is part of that process."
He gestured toward the frozen image on the screen.
"And that," he concluded, "is the reality behind this footage."
The projection room remained silent, the earlier chatter replaced by a sober awareness that the world beyond their academy walls was far harsher than any textbook could convey.