Chapter 225: On the Battlefield 2

The sun gradually shifted westward.

At dusk, Wang Baobao sent word that the road northward for Siam had been cut off and a convoy of grain and fodder had been seized.

Zhu Yong then ordered the attack.

Forty‑two cannons were off‑loaded from the ships and pushed to a spot a mile from the city wall, arranged in a straight line.

The Siamese did not know what these iron tubes were and peered anxiously over the wall.

"Fire!"

Boom— Boom— Boom…

All forty‑two cannons fired together, the shells whistling as they slammed into the wall.

How can a mud‑brick wall stand up to this?

The first volley blew a huge section apart, dust billowed, and cries of agony rose everywhere.

Siamese soldiers were blown apart, flesh and blood flying; the survivors clutched their heads and fled into the city.

"Keep firing!"

The second volley blasted a huge hole in the city gate.

The third volley toppled the wall for over ten zhang, exposing the houses and streets inside.

"Cease fire, Chang Shu, lead troops into the city. Spare those who surrender; kill any who resist," Zhu Yong ordered, then turned to Chang Yuchun.

"Yes!"

Chang Yuchun led two thousand men, brandishing flintlock guns, and rushed through the breach into the city.

The city was in chaos.

Siamese soldiers fled in all directions, civilians shut their doors, and cries and wails filled everywhere.

Chang Yuchun pressed forward straight toward the palace.

Halfway there, a squad of Siamese soldiers charged out to resist; a volley of flintlock fire swept them down.

Further ahead, more waves of resistance met the same fate.

In less than an hour, the Longxiang Army had seized the entire royal city.

The palace gates were shut tight, and a woman's sobbing could be heard inside.

Chang Yuchun ordered a cannon to be pushed up and aimed at the main gate.

"Boom!"

The gate shattered into splinters.

Chang Yuchun led his men inside, and shortly after emerged dragging a man.

The man wore lavish robes, a gold crown atop his head, trembled all over, and his complexion was pallid.

"Your Highness, we've captured the Siamese king," Chang Yuchun tossed the man onto the ground.

The king knelt, repeatedly kowtowing, muttering incomprehensible words.

Zhu Yong had the interpreter question him.

The interpreter was a Champa merchant who spoke Siamese.

After a few questions, he told Zhu Yong, "Your Highness, he says he is willing to surrender, to pay tribute annually, and begs for mercy."

Zhu Yong stared at him without speaking.

The king's kowtowing grew more frantic, blood streaming from his forehead.

After a long pause, Zhu Yong said, "Ask him whether Siam had any part in the raid on the Great Ming merchant convoy."

The interpreter finished, and the king shook his head repeatedly, launching into a long speech.

"He says no, Siam was not involved. He also says he knows the affair was orchestrated by Java's Ardi Qian; Ardi had once sent men to recruit him, but he refused."

Zhu Yong stared into the man's eyes.

The man dared not meet his gaze, kept his head down, trembling all over.

"Re‑examine," Zhu Yong said calmly.

Two Imperial Troops dragged the king down.

Zhu Yong turned and looked at the royal city.

Along the streets, kneeling on both sides, were surrendered Siamese—soldiers, officials, and civilians alike.

The Longxiang Army was sweeping the city, inventorying the spoils.

Chang Yuchun came over and asked, "Your Highness, do you suspect Siam also took part?"

"I don't know, but we must investigate thoroughly. Over four thousand lives are at stake; we cannot act in ignorance. Though they have already given statements, I cannot mistakenly kill an innocent nor let any guilty go unpunished," Zhu Yong said.

Chang Yuchun nodded and added, "The city's grain and fodder stores are ample, enough for us for three months."

"Alright, tally everything, register it, and when Uncle Tiande arrives, have him arrange transport back to Great Ming," Zhu Yong said.

Night fell.

The palace interior was brightly lit.

Zhu Yong sat in the seat that had belonged to the Siamese king, with several accusation documents spread before him.

The interrogation concluded that Siam indeed did not partake in the raid, but when Ardi had sent envoys years ago, the Siamese king did not refuse; he merely stalled with vague excuses, effectively giving tacit consent.

Chang Yuchun frowned and asked, "Your Highness, does this count as a crime?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and replied, "He isn't the principal offender, but we can't let him go unpunished."

He took up his brush and wrote a letter, essentially stating that the Siamese king's failure to report was a breach of vassal etiquette, sentencing him to a fine of one hundred thousand taels of gold and two hundred thousand shi of grain, to be paid within three years.

After finishing the letter, Zhu Yong summoned the interpreter and said, "Tomorrow deliver this letter to the Siamese king and have him sign and seal it."

"Yes."

At dawn the next day, the Siamese king trembled as he pressed his handprint onto the letter.

Zhu Yong folded up the letter and said to Chang Yuchun, "Chang Shu, leave a thousand men to garrison, and we will set out for Zhenla tomorrow."

"Yes!"

On October 24, the Ming forces left part of their troops to garrison the Siam capital, while the main force boarded ships and continued southward.

The fleet sailed along the coastline, with a steady tailwind all the way.

On October 28, another stretch of land appeared ahead.

They reached Zhenla.

This time, Zhu Yong did not rush to assault the city.

He first sent men in small boats to scout, and discovered that the Zhenla capital was built inland, about eighty li from the coast, with a great river running straight into the city.

Just like Siam.

"The old method: Chang Shu makes a frontal feint, Elder Brother cuts off the rear route, and I lead a party in small boats to recon." Zhu Yong said.

"Yes!"

The fleet docked, and the Longxiang Army landed.

The Zhenla people had evidently received word; the city walls were heavily guarded, and at least ten thousand soldiers had gathered outside the city.

But when the Flintlock Gun fired, they collapsed.

Like the Siamese, the Zhenla had never seen such a weapon; it could kill a man from several hundred steps away, more lethal than any bow or arrow.

On November 15, the Zhenla king presented a surrender document, pledging to forever be a vassal of Great Ming.

Zhu Yong likewise imposed a fine of fifty thousand taels of gold and one hundred thousand shi of grain, then left part of his troops to garrison and continued southward.

At the end of November, the fleet arrived at Pagan.

The Pagan king had long been frightened; before the Ming forces even landed, he sent envoys to seek peace.

Zhu Yong had him come in person to meet.

On December 3, the Pagan king, accompanied by a retinue of ministers, knelt at the harbor and presented a surrender document and tribute.

The tribute included gold, silver, gems, ivory, and spices, piled up across the ground.

Zhu Yong had the items counted and recorded, then helped the Pagan king to his feet and said, "Stand up! As long as you are honest, Great Ming will not mistreat you."

The translator relayed his words, and the Pagan king nodded repeatedly, his eyes on the verge of tears.

Zhu Yong looked at the land and silently counted the days in his mind.

From the expedition that set out at the end of September until now, more than two months have passed.

They subjugated Manzhe Boyi, Java, Champa, Siam, Zhenla, and Pagan; the nations of the South Sea all submitted.

He did not know how his family was faring now.

"Prince, missing home?" Wang Baobao walked over.

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "A little."

"Soon, once Uncle Tiande's great army arrives, we'll settle this place and then we can return." Wang Baobao said, looking toward the Northern Region.

Zhu Yong gave a hum, then turned to look at the seized tribute.

Gold, silver, spices, ivory… when these are sent back to Great Ming, they can be exchanged for grain, used to repair roads, and feed and clothe countless people.

He recalled the hardships from his memories of a previous life.

War, famine, plague, oppression…

In this life, he will keep Great Ming forever away from those.

At least, he will ensure that his children, his nephews and nieces, never know what an empty stomach feels like.

In the distance, twenty steamships lay quietly moored on the sea, their black plumes of smoke drifting in the wind.

Farther away, the setting sun sank in the west, dyeing the whole South Sea golden.

Zhu Yong took a deep breath.

The South Sea, from now on, is Great Ming's South Sea.