Chapter 128: Return to Yingtian

Hongwu Year Five, the seventeenth day of the twelfth month.

The winter in the Western Regions is far colder than in Yingtian; the crenels of Anxi City's walls are covered with icicles.

Inside the city, however, the scene is different: three new towns have begun to take shape, the rammed‑earth walls of Shule, Yiwu and Kuche have been joined, and houses within the city are being hurriedly constructed.

Zhu Yong stood on the north‑gate tower of Anxi City, watching the troops training outside the city.

Among these soldiers were Han troops as well as surrendered warriors from the various Western Regions tribes.

Following Zhu Biao's suggestion, he implemented mixed units: in each hundred‑person squad, sixty were Han soldiers and forty were from the tribes, with unified training and unified command.

"Prince, the leaders of all the tribes have arrived and are waiting at the General's Residence," Zhang Wu reported from the tower.

Zhu Yong nodded, turned, and went down into the city.

The General's Residence is the most imposing building in the city; in fact it is merely a three‑courtyard compound, far more modest than the Wu Wang Fu in Yingtian.

In the main hall, more than twenty tribal leaders sat split on either side.

Hei De Er Huo Zhe sat in the first seat on the left; he is now the Deputy Commissioner of the Great Ming Anxi Dusi Zhihui Shisi, a nominal title that nonetheless indicates his status.

When Zhu Yong entered, everyone rose to salute.

"All sit," Zhu Yong said, walking to the Main Seat and sitting down.

He scanned the assembly and slowly began, "Anxi and the other cities will be completed; by next spring we can begin colonizing the fields.

The pastures and arable lands of each tribe have been allocated as previously agreed; does anyone have an objection?"

The others shook their heads in unison.

In the past few months in the Western Regions, Zhu Yong has acted fairly: the surrendered are not killed, and those who merit are rewarded.

When dividing the land, he considered both each tribe's traditional pastures and the needs of colonization, satisfying the majority.

"Very well, the second matter: the trade routes must be opened. Starting next year, the commercial tax between the Western Regions and Zhongyuan will be reduced to one tax out of thirty. Trade caravans passing checkpoints will present a road permit issued by the Dusi Zhihui Shisi and travel unimpeded."

Zhu Yong continued.

At his words, a low murmur rose in the hall.

One out of thirty is far lower than the previous Yuan dynasty rate of three out of ten.

Moreover, the road‑permit system means caravans no longer need to pay passage fees to the tribes along the way.

"Prince, with this, the number of caravans will surely increase, which is indeed good, but… the tribes' losses…" an elderly leader of Ye Er Qiang stroked his beard and said.

"What loss…? Previously we collected passage fees, so there were fewer caravans. Now the routes are open and caravans have increased tenfold; even with lower taxes, the total revenue exceeds the former amount."

"You can't calculate this account?" Zhu Yong asked innocently.

The others were stunned, then suddenly understood.

Indeed, before caravans feared multiple levies and preferred the longer northern route.

Now taxes are low and uniform, so caravans naturally choose this short route.

"Prince, your wisdom shines," Hei De Er Huo Zhe was the first to voice approval.

The other leaders echoed in turn.

Zhu Yong nodded and said again, "The third matter: schools must be built. Next spring, each city will have a school teaching the Chinese language and characters.

Each tribe may send its youths to enroll; those who excel may become officials in the Dusi Zhihui Shisi or be recommended to the Yingtian Guozijian."

These words made everyone's eyes light up.

To learn Chinese and become an official—this was something they had never even dared to imagine before.

"Prince, we will certainly send our youths to school!" several young leaders exclaimed excitedly.

Zhu Yong looked at them, understanding in his heart.

Force can conquer land, but true governance depends on culture and benefit.

These three matters—land, trade routes, schools—are the three nails he has driven into the Western Regions.

When the discussion ended, the tribal leaders took their leave.

Hei De Er Huo Zhe stayed behind.

"Prince, there is something…" he hesitated.

"Speak."

"News from Yutian: the Timur Empire to the west has been active lately; their envoy went to Kashgar, apparently trying to win over the local tribes."

Zhu Yong frowned.

He recognized the name Timur Empire; in his past‑life memories it was a powerful Central Asian empire that later attempted an eastern campaign against Great Ming.

"Is the information reliable?"

"Reliable… I have an old tribe in Kashgar; its leader personally heard the Timur envoy promise that if they submit, they will be exempt from taxes for three years and receive weapons and armor as gifts."

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment, then said, "Understood, you may go first."

Hei De Er Huo Zhe saluted and withdrew.

Zhu Yong sat alone in the hall, tapping his fingers on the chair back.

The Western Regions are newly settled, yet far from stable.

To the west the Timur Empire watches hungrily, to the north Oirat remnants remain unchecked, the Eastern Chagatai have been crushed, but each tribe harbors its own thoughts…

"Prince," Guo Ying entered.

"Uncle Guo, sit," Zhu Yong said.

Guo Ying sat down and said directly, "Prince, we have just received an imperial edict ordering you to return to the capital before the end of the year to report on your duties."

Zhu Yong was startled, "Return to the capital? Here in the Western Regions…"

"The edict says the Western Regions are settled, and General Feng Sheng can stay to guard; you have been away from home for a long time, and the Emperor, the Empress, and Crown Prince all miss you, so they want you to return to the capital for the New Year."

Warmth rose in Zhu Yong's heart.

Indeed, it has been almost a year since he left home.

Huan Huan should be calling dad now, right? Guanyin Nu… she's alone with a child; I wonder how she's faring.

And also father and mother, elder brother and sister‑in‑law, Xiong Ying's nephew…

"Alright, I'm going back," he nodded.

"What about this side of the Western Regions…?" Guo Ying asked.

"Uncle Feng will be the principal commander, you the deputy; keep 30,000 elite soldiers to hold the position, the rest withdraw in stages. And those Gold and Silver specialties, tally them, pack them, and ship them back together."

Zhu Yong arranged.

"As you command!"

Three days later, outside Anxi City.

Zhu Yong rode his horse, with five thousand Longxiang Army elite behind him, and further back a few hundred large wagons loaded with the Western Regions' Gold and Silver, jade, and spices.

Feng Sheng, Guo Ying, Wang Baobao and others stood outside the city gate to see them off.

"Prince, rest assured; with us in the Western Regions, they will not dare to slip up," Feng Sheng said, bowing his hands.

Zhu Yong clasped his fists in return and said, "Thank you, all of you uncles, elders, and brothers. After the beginning of spring, the court will send civil officials to take over civil affairs; you need only attend to military matters."

"Understood!"

"We're off!" Zhu Yong pulled the reins, and the cavalry set out.

From Anxi to Yumen Pass, 1,200 li.

The army marched eighty li each day, traveling a full half‑month.

What was seen along the way was already vastly different from when we arrived.

The beacon towers had been rebuilt, the post road smoothed; every fifty li there was a Post Station where one could rest and change horses.

All of this was built in the past few months, ordered by Zhu Yong for the laborers.

"Prince, Yumen Pass is just ahead," Chen Heng said, pointing at the distant outline of the pass.

Zhu Yong looked up and saw the imposing pass standing tall, its War Flags fluttering.

The gate swung wide open, and a squad of cavalry emerged, led by a young commander.

"Junior General Chang Mao, by imperial decree, is here to receive Prince Wu!" Chang Mao clasped his fists on horseback, his voice resonant.

Zhu Yong smiled, "Chang Mao, where is your father?"

"My father is in Su Prefecture waiting for the Prince; he said he would welcome the Prince there!" Chang Mao grinned.

"Let's go to Su Prefecture!" Zhu Yong cracked his whip.