Chapter 291: Reply on the Eve of Heaven

The fifteenth year of Hongwu, the ninth day of the tenth month.

On the east coast of the Australian continent, New City.

Dawn was just breaking, and the pier had already become bustling.

In five months, this small port that once had only a few rows of wooden houses had become a respectable small town.

The cement-built pier extended into the sea, enough to berth twenty large ships at once.

Warehouses lined the shore, stacked with ore awaiting shipment.

The city's streets were paved with gravel; on both sides stood wooden houses, a military camp, a craftsmen workshop, a Kitchen, and even a tiny tea shop run by a veteran attached to the army, selling tea brought from Great Ming.

Zhu Yong stood at the far end of the pier, watching the sun rise over the horizon.

The sea wind blew in, carrying a salty, fishy scent, rustling the dark Great Cloak on his shoulders.

"Second Prince!"

A shout came from behind.

Zhu Yong turned and saw Zhu Shuang striding toward him, followed by Zhang Wuhe and several commanders.

Zhu Shuang was a shade darker and a shade thinner than when he first arrived, but his spirit was strong, and his stride carried wind.

He wore a sturdy uniform with a short sword at his waist, looking far more capable than in Xi'an.

"Second Prince, the ships are all ready—thirteen, all the new improved steamships, fast and spacious," Zhu Shuang said as he stepped forward, pointing at the fleet docked at the pier.

Zhu Yong looked in the direction he indicated.

Thirteen steamships were neatly moored at the pier, their hulls coated with fresh tung oil that glimmered in the morning light.

The smokestacks on the ships were already puffing, and workers were conducting final checks.

"How much ore has been loaded?" Zhu Yong asked.

"Twelve million jin of ore: eight million of copper, four million of iron, plus the associated tin and lead ores, plus five hundred jin of pure gold and three thousand jin of pure silver, all exchanged from the natives—they didn't know the value and traded a few iron pieces for them," Zhu Shuang reported the figures, his face showing unmistakable pride.

Zhu Yong nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

Twelve million jin of ore, plus gold and silver, would be enough on this trip to make the Ministry of Works rejoice.

"What about the Australian natives?" Zhu Yong asked again.

"According to Second Prince's orders, we selected five thousand of the most obedient—half men, half women, a thousand children—all good workers, already organized into squads and ready to board at any time."

Zhu Shuang said happily.

Zhu Yong hummed and scanned the pier with his gaze.

Five thousand natives were being herded by soldiers, batch after batch rushed onto the ships.

Men were shirtless, women wore grass skirts, and children clung tightly to their mothers.

Their eyes no longer held the initial fear and anger, only numbness and obedience.

In five months, Zhu Shuang, using the method he taught, had tamed these natives into complete submission.

Disobedient ones, kill.

Rebellious ones, kill.

Those who fled and were recaptured, kill them in front of everyone.

The rest, give them food, give them water, let them work.

Simple, brutal, yet especially effective.

"Second Prince, are you really leaving?" Zhu Shuang asked suddenly, his voice tinged with reluctance.

Zhu Yong turned his head, looking at this darkened, thin younger brother.

Five months had passed; this kid had gone from clueless ignorance to being able to handle Australian affairs single‑handedly, growing faster than Zhu Yong had expected.

How to manage the mines, how to tame the natives, how to allocate supplies, how to reconcile accounts—Zhu Shuang already had everything clear.

A few days earlier he had led a party northward for two hundred li and discovered a new copper mine.

"Australia is yours; I'm at ease. Remember what I told you," Zhu Yong said, patting his shoulder.

Zhu Shuang nodded heavily: "Second Prince, rest assured, I've memorized everything."

"Treat the natives well but do not abuse them; let them work, give them food, and don't push them to rebellion," Zhu Yong said slowly.

"Yes."

"Mines must be mined in rotation; you cannot exhaust one, then move to the next once it's depleted."

"Yes."

"When dealing with native tribes, negotiate if possible; if not, fight. After fighting, keep the obedient, the disobedient…"

"Kill," Zhu Shuang added.

Zhu Yong nodded, saying nothing further.

All that needed teaching has been given; the rest rests on this kid himself.

"Second Prince, when will you return?" Zhu Shuang asked again, still reluctant.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "I don't know; it could be as short as one or two years, or as long as three to five years. Great Ming has a pile of affairs, and the elder brother alone can't handle them all."

Zhu Shuang hummed, then grinned: "Second Prince, once I've got my footing here, I'll go back to see Imperial Father and Imperial Mother."

"Fine." Zhu Yong laughed and patted Zhu Shuang's shoulder, of course without force; after all, if he pressed harder, Zhu Shuang would likely suffer.

The two brothers stood side by side on the pier, watching the sun rise higher.

The sea wind blew, bringing the distant scent of eucalyptus.

"Prince! The fleet is ready; we can set out," Zhang Wuhe said as he strode over.

Zhu Yong nodded, casting one last glance at the land he had stayed on for a full year.

In the distance, the mines still smoked, and countless natives bustled under the foreman's commands.

Near the city, cooking smoke rose, and soldiers prepared breakfast.

Further away, the endless mountains flickered in the morning light, and countless mineral deposits waited to be mined there.

"Shuang'er, work hard," Zhu Yong turned around, looking at his younger brother.

Zhu Shuang's eyes were a little red, but he still nodded heavily and said, "Second Prince, rest assured, I will manage Australia well."

Zhu Yong smiled, gave his shoulder a firm pat, then turned and strode toward the Wu King.

Behind him, Zhu Shuang stood in place, watching his silhouette.

The launch board was retracted, and the steam engine's roar grew louder.

The fleet slowly set off, leaving the dock and heading out to sea.

Zhu Shuang stood on the pier, watching the fleet turn into a tiny dot on the horizon, disappearing at the edge of the sea line.

"Prince, return," the nearby commander whispered.

Zhu Shuang wiped his eyes, turned, and walked back.

He kept walking, then suddenly stopped, turned back, and glanced at the sea again.

"Second Prince, I will not disappoint you," he said softly.

The sea wind blew, carrying his voice into the distance.

…

October 27.

At sea.

The Wu King sailed in the boundless ocean, surrounded by nothing but blue.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, facing the sea breeze, gazing into the distance.

It had been eighteen days since leaving Australia; according to the voyage, another seven or eight days would bring them to the Great Ming coastline.

Xiao Zhu emerged from the cabin, carrying a bowl of hot soup.

"Prince, the weather is cooling, have a bowl of ginger soup to warm yourself,"

Zhu Yong took it, took a sip, and winced from the spiciness.

"Who cooked this?"

"Xiao Ying, she said the wind at sea is strong and feared the Prince might catch a chill, so she added extra ginger," Xiao Zhu said with a pursed‑mouth smile.

Zhu Yong chuckled, and took another sip.

"Prince, what are you thinking about?" Xiao Zhu asked softly.

Zhu Yong stared into the distance, was silent for a moment, then said, "Missing home."

Xiao Zhu was startled for a beat, then smiled.

"Prince also misses home, huh."

"Hmm, I miss mother's cooking, I miss father and elder brother's voices, I miss Huan Huan and Jiong Jiong, I miss Guanyin Nu," Zhu Yong said slowly.

Xiao Zhu looked at him and suddenly felt that this Prince, at this moment, was unlike the invincible general who swept the battlefield, unlike the Wu King who forged new lands in Australia, but merely an ordinary person who had been away from home too long and longed to return.

"Prince, we'll be there soon," she whispered.

Zhu Yong nodded, handing the bowl back to her.

"Go fetch those bags of seeds."

Xiao Zhu responded and went.

A moment later, several soldiers carried a few burlap sacks over.

Zhu Yong untied a sack and pulled out a handful of golden‑yellow kernels.

Corn.

These were obtained in the ninth year of Hongwu and were handed to the Ministry of Works for trial planting at the time.

Over the past few years, they have been promoted in Yunnan, Sichuan, Shaanxi and other regions, yielding a harvest per mu far higher than wheat.

But the climate here in Australia is different; Zhu Yong had Zhu Shuang try planting a batch, and they grew surprisingly well.

This bag contains Australian corn seeds, plump and golden, better than those harvested in many parts of Great Ming.

The other bags beside it are seeds of crops unique to Australia; some he does not even recognize, cultivated by the indigenous tribes, said to have decent yields and acceptable taste.

"Take these seeds back for the Sixth Prince to study," Zhu Yong murmured.

Zhu Su, that youngster, has been advancing in medicine and agronomy these years; penicillin, allicin, cowpox, each has been concocted.

These Australian seeds will keep him busy for a while.

"Prince, the animals are all fine; the kangaroos have given birth to three joeys, the rhea has laid eggs, the parrots are chirping more joyfully, shouting 'Prince auspicious' and 'Eat, eat' all day,"

Zhang Wu walked over and said.

A smile tugged at Zhu Yong's mouth.

These Australian specialties, he had already sent some back last time; this time he will bring more, giving each of his nephews some.

Especially the parrots, which can speak human words, lively and active; those little ones will surely love them.

"Take good care of them, don't let them die," he said.

"Understood."