Chapter 61: Fu Youde Personally Comes to Greet!

The officers of the patrol battalion who were patrolling this area saw the appearance of these thousands of soldiers—the grime on their bodies, and the killing intent that surged toward them.

They were all shaken, their hearts trembling.

“What kind of war did they… what kind of war did they endure?”

“Did they fight their way out of the netherworld?”

Almost every soldier held this thought.

For them,

what they had heard before about Zhu Ying’s victories against the Tartars in Jianzhou had been secondhand, passed along through battle reports.

But now,

they saw it with their own eyes.

They could see the marks of two months of bloody warfare etched into Zhu Ying and these three thousand soldiers.

“Brothers, we’re home.”

Zhu Ying shouted again, his voice filled with fierce emotion.

“We’re home.”

“The Garrison Commander brought us home.”

“Great Ming, we’ve finally returned.”

“Zhao Si, can you see? We’re home.”

“Wang Wu.”

“You took a blade for me, let me live, but you’re gone. Today the Garrison Commander brings us home—rest in peace, brother, we’re home.”

“Wah… Chen Lin, we’re home. You lucky bastard, now you’re a hero-soul, and now I have to cry for you.”

“Spirits return, brothers, we’re home…”

Hearing the words “we’re home,”

the soldiers who had survived the northern frontier burst into wailing sobs.

Their grief was profound.

They wept not only for having survived the northern frontier, but also for their fallen comrades who had died there.

They had come home.

But many brothers remained forever in that foreign land; all they brought back were their bones, their remains.

At this moment,

wails echoed through the air.

Even Zhu Ying could not stop his tears.

Though in this campaign he had taken countless enemy lives,

these soldiers who followed him were his brothers-in-arms; seeing them die in enemy hands, seeing only their bones return—it was impossible not to feel sorrow.

“Brothers.”

“Bring our fallen heroes home.”

“Spirits return.”

Zhu Ying shouted loudly, his voice trembling.

“Brothers.”

“We’re home.”

“Spirits return.”

“Spirits return…”

Nearly three thousand soldiers roared, calling out to summon the spirits of their fallen brothers back to their homeland, back to the nation they had defended.

This scene,

was profoundly solemn.

On this borderland,

the faces of the thousand Ming soldiers on patrol could not hold back their tears.

As soldiers,

at this moment, their brothers had died and never returned.

How could they not understand this feeling?

“Brothers, form ranks.”

“Welcome the returning heroes of the Danning Garrison Battalion.”

“Spirits return.”

Battalion Commander Wu Xiong shouted loudly.

As his voice fell,

the thousand soldiers immediately split into two lines, orderly and solemn.

The next instant,

they erupted in a thunderous, unified roar: “Spirits return, spirits return!”

The cry of “spirits return” rang across Liaodong.

Meanwhile, in the main camp of the campaign against the Yuan court,

“Report.”

“Your Excellency, General Fu.”

“The Danning frontier troops’ Garrison Commander Zhu Ying has returned.”

“He has now entered the territory under our control at Jincheng.”

A personal guard hurried into the tent and reported loudly.

At this news,

Fu Youde, seated in the main seat, brightened instantly, a look of anticipation crossing his face.

The eyes of all the generals in the tent mirrored his—filled with curiosity.

Though Zhu Ying was merely a Garrison Commander,

his battlefield achievements surpassed his rank; such feats demanded the attention of every officer in the army.

“Summon Zhu Ying to the main camp at once.”

“His merits are outstanding—I’ve long wished to meet him,” Fu Youde laughed.

“Your Excellency,”

the guard bowed respectfully, “Garrison Commander Zhu Ying and his troops have fought for months on the northern frontier, covered in grime and exhaustion. The Battalion Commander has already led them into camp and arranged for the supply troops to bring them water.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“They’ve fought for over two months on the northern frontier—they’re utterly worn out.”

Fu Youde immediately nodded.

Then he rose to his feet.

“Generals, come with me to welcome Zhu Ying.”

“His merits warrant my personal greeting,” Fu Youde declared.

Hearing this,

the generals in the tent could not help but glance at one another.

Who was Fu Youde?

In terms of military command, he was the deputy commander of this campaign, in charge of a hundred thousand troops, equal in rank to a Commander-in-Chief.

But in terms of noble title, he was a Duke of the realm, a founding Duke—his status was exalted.

For a Duke of the realm to personally greet someone, only Zhu Ying among all of Great Ming—outside the imperial family—could merit such honor.

This alone showed how highly Fu Youde regarded Zhu Ying.

The other generals, hearing Fu Youde speak, naturally set aside their arrogance; they too wished to see this legendary Zhu Ying for themselves.

After all, this campaign against Nara Chu had seen many Huaixi warlords fail to achieve anything, yet Zhu Ying had shone brilliantly, repeatedly reported to the capital, earning the Emperor’s and Crown Prince’s favor.

On the other side,

at the supply camp,

Zhu Ying and his nearly three thousand soldiers had reached the camp gate.

As soon as they arrived,

they saw before them a group of many battle-hardened officers clad in armor, draped in black cloaks.

“High rank.”

From afar, Zhu Ying felt only one thing: these men held high rank.

In Great Ming,

one could judge rank by armor and attire.

For example, the Imperial Palace guards in the capital wore red cloaks, appearing even more imposing.

In this army, only officers above the rank of Regional Military Commissioner were permitted to wear cloaks.

“Your humble servant bows before General Fu.”

At this moment,

Wu Xiong, who was leading them, saw the officers ahead and his expression turned deeply reverent—he immediately bowed low.

"Fu Youde?"

Hearing the surname Fu, Zhu Ying immediately recognized the middle-aged war general before him.

Open-country Duke, currently serving as deputy commander in the campaign against Naha Chu.

In the Great Ming, he enjoys the deep trust of the current Emperor.

Of course.

At least for now.

In the future, after Crown Prince Zhu Biao’s death, the Huaixi faction will face a true purge—or rather, the entire court will be cleansed.

"Garrison Commander Zhu, this is General Fu Youde."

"He is the deputy commander of this campaign against the Yuan court’s Naha Chu, commanding a hundred thousand troops."

Wu Xiong whispered to Zhu Ying.

Such a high-ranking official.

Zhu Ying did not dare to be negligent; he stepped forward at once and bowed deeply: "Your subordinate Zhu Ying, pays his respects to General Fu."

At this moment.

Fu Youde’s gaze had already settled on Zhu Ying—not only him, but all the war generals beside him were staring at Zhu Ying.

First impression.

They could not make out Zhu Ying’s face, for it was caked in blood and grime.

Second impression.

Zhu Ying looked like a wild man risen from a sea of corpses, drenched in blood, reeking of foul, pungent stench.

Third impression.

Respect.

As soldiers,

they understood well what kind of hell Zhu Ying must have endured in the northern frontier to be reduced to this state.

…

PS: Please follow! Please vote! Please give monthly tickets! Grateful beyond words. Also, if you find the word count too short, check out the author’s previous novel: [Great Qin: Strengthening and Living Long by Collecting Attributes from the Battlefield]





(End of Chapter)