Chapter 230: Reunion

The twelfth year of Hongwu, the seventh day of the first month.

In the northwestern waters of Borneo, the Longxiang Army fleet anchored.

On the sea surface, more than thirty warships were lined up in a single file; the five largest were steam‑powered "Longxiang class", their black hulls thudding steadily in the waves.

Smaller sailing vessels weaved among them, transporting supplies and delivering messages.

A simple pier had already been built on the shore, wooden stakes driven into the sand, and a boardwalk extending onto the sea.

Further away, rows of makeshift barracks were being erected, hundreds of soldiers sweating like rain, felling trees, moving stones, and digging foundations.

Zhu Yong stood at the far end of the pier, a blueprint in hand, watching the construction scene in the distance.

"Prince, this location is well chosen: the harbor is deep, sheltered from wind, a fresh‑water river lies to the north, the terrain to the south is flat—a good spot for a city," General Xu Da came from behind, dressed in ordinary clothes, also holding a blueprint, and said.

Zhu Yong nodded. "Xu Shu is right; I thought the same. From now on this place will be called Zhenhai City, with a garrison of three thousand, a Prefect's office, a Maritime Trade Office, and a Garrison Office."

General Xu Da smiled and asked, "Have the names all been decided?"

"I thought of it last night, Xu Shu. Of the fifty thousand you brought, how many have been sent out?" Zhu Yong put away the blueprint and said.

General Xu Da counted on his fingers: "Manzhe Boyi retained three thousand, Java two thousand, Champa one thousand, Siam two thousand, Zhenla one thousand, Bagan one thousand, Malacca five hundred, Sumatra five hundred, the Spice Islands three hundred.

Adding the three thousand here, that makes fourteen thousand people in total."

He paused, then continued, "The remaining thirty‑six thousand will be withdrawn in three batches: the first to transport prisoners and spoils, the second to escort the wounded, the third to leave after the fortress town is completed."

Zhu Yong nodded, "Xu Shu, you have thought this through thoroughly."

The two walked slowly along the coastline, the sea breeze brushing them with a salty, fishy scent.

In the distance, several fishing boats were heading toward the shore, and the soldiers on board waved at them.

"Prince! We caught a big one today!" someone shouted.

Zhu Yong smiled and waved his hand.

General Xu Da, watching the scene, sighed, "Prince, I have fought wars for thirty years, and this is the first time I see such a sight: the war is over, the troops are not in a hurry to withdraw, they first build a city, repair the pier, and garrison."

This South Sea will become the inner sea of Great Ming from now on."

"The war isn't finished yet! Xu Shu, look at this sea—east, south, west—there are countless islands and places; what we have taken now is only a small coastal strip," Zhu Yong shook his head.

General Xu Da was silent for a moment, then asked, "Prince, do you mean we should keep fighting?"

"Not now. First secure these places, garrison, build cities, appoint officials, and govern. Once this area is stable, we can explore south and east. The South Sea is so vast, it cannot be taken in one bite," Zhu Yong said.

General Xu Da nodded and said nothing further.

He found himself understanding the simple‑minded Prince less and less.

In battle, he charged at the front; a single hammer blow would send enemy ranks crashing down, fiercer than anyone.

After the war, his thoughts turned to building cities, garrisoning troops, appointing officials, and governing—more thorough than those civil officials.

This is not simple‑mindedness; it's playing the pig to eat the tiger.

But General Xu Da did not point it out.

Some matters are fine as long as they are understood in the heart.

The two reached the barracks area, where Wang Baobao was conducting drills with a squad of soldiers.

Seeing Zhu Yong and General Xu Da approach, Wang Baobao let the soldiers continue, and hurried forward himself.

"Prince, General Xu Da," Wang Baobao clasped his fists.

Zhu Yong waved his hand and said, "Elder Brother, no need for formalities, how are the drills going?"

Wang Baobao replied, "The weather here in the South Sea is hot; the soldiers are struggling to adapt, a few have suffered heatstroke. Your servant has ordered them to train in the mornings and evenings, resting at noon."

Zhu Yong nodded, "Elder Brother, you have thought this through well. By the way, is the food sufficient?"

"Sufficient. Yesterday a supply ship arrived, bringing twenty ships of food, as well as medicines and cotton cloth," Wang Baobao said.

Now they lack nothing in terms of food, because the entire South Sea belongs to Great Ming, and the triple‑harvest rice of the year has already begun.

Zhu Yong looked at General Xu Da and asked, "Xu Shu, have the reports from Yingtian been received?"

"They have. The fast ship dispatched on the twenty‑third day of the twelfth lunar month took the steamship route; it should be reaching Fujian by now, then travel from Fujian via post stations, and arrive at Yingtian around the twentieth day of the first month," General Xu Da said.

Zhu Yong calculated the dates and said, "Then we won't receive the Imperial Father's reply until the end of the month."

"Almost, Prince. This period is perfect for arranging the garrisons everywhere and completing the fortress towns," General Xu Da said.

Zhu Yong nodded and gazed toward the distant sea.

Sea and sky merged into one boundless hue.

This sea region will become Great Ming's territory from now on.

……

Inside the barracks, Zhu Yong sat cross‑legged on a simple wooden bed, a thick stack of documents spread before him.

These were all brought by General Xu Da: orders from the Ministry of War, grain allocations from the Ministry of Revenue, official appointments from the Ministry of Personnel, city‑building blueprints from the Ministry of Works, and a secret letter from Zhu Biao.

He first took Zhu Biao's letter.

The letter was short, but its words were filled with concern.

"Second brother, the South Sea is humid and hot; take care of your health. I have heard you have conquered Manzhe Boyi, Java, Champa, Siam and other realms. Our elder brother is proud of you, and the Imperial Father is delighted. These days, everyone praises you, saying our second son is truly a handsome talent.

The newly annexed lands of the South Sea require stable governance. Your elder brother has already consulted the Ministry of Personnel and will select a capable group of officials to accompany the army southward, assisting you in establishing prefectures and counties. They will set out after the new year and should arrive around March.

Also, the Imperial Mother asked me to tell you that Guanyin Nu and the children are all well; you need not worry. Qiong Jiong can walk now, spending his days with a little wooden hammer chasing after Xiong Ying, who is not annoyed and protects his younger brother; their relationship is very good.

"Second brother, take care."

—Signed by your elder brother

Zhu Yong finished reading, and the corner of his mouth curved.

Zhu Xiongying that kid—now! It's enough that he knows how to protect his brother.

He set the letter down and picked up the Ministry of War document.

It is the official approval regarding the South Sea garrison: Manzhe Boyi will have three county offices, one prefectural office, and a garrison of three thousand; Java will have two county offices, one prefectural office, and a garrison of two thousand; Champa will have one county office and a garrison of one thousand…

Every part is written clearly, matching the plan that Xu Da brought.

He picks up the Ministry of Personnel documents again.

It is a long list, listing the names, native places, and resumes of officials slated to be sent to the South Sea.

Three Prefects, twelve County Magistrates, several Clerks, several County Guards, and also the Supervisor of the Maritime Trade Office, the commander of the Defense Office…

Zhu Yong made a rough calculation; the first batch of officials to be dispatched would be at least seventy to eighty people.

These are only civil officials; military officials are counted separately.

"The court intends to treat the South Sea as a proper prefecture and county," Zhu Yong muttered.

He puts down the documents, leans against the bedside rail, and closes his eyes to rest his spirit.

These days have been spent constantly fighting, besieging cities, pillaging lands, and making swift kill decisions.

Now that the war is over, governance must begin, and he feels somewhat weary.

It's not physical fatigue, but mental fatigue.

War is simple: charge forward and kill.

Governance is complex; one must consider how to station troops, appoint officials, pacify the local populace, collect taxes, maintain order…

These matters are far harder than him charging into battle to kill the enemy.

Nevertheless, no matter how hard, they must be done.

These places, now that they have been captured, must be held.

Only when held are they Great Ming's territory.

If they cannot be held, the fighting was in vain.

Zhu Yong opens his eyes and looks out the window.

Outside the window is a turquoise sea, snow‑white beach, and a lush coconut grove.

In the future, this place will become Great Ming's Zhenhai City.

There will be city walls, streets, shops, schools, and temples.

More and more Han People will come, trade, clear land, and settle.

The locals will learn to speak the Han language, write Han characters, paste spring couplets for the New Year, and eat dumplings.

If one generation fails, the next two fail; if two fail, the third fails.

One day, the people here will consider themselves Great Ming citizens.

That is what he wants to do.

……