Chapter 326: Like Eating Huanglian

Shahara's complexion was terrible, his eye sockets a bit red, as if he had been crying.

"Father, Jiahanjier... fled, taking more than twenty thousand people, and ran westward."

Tie Mu Er nodded, saying nothing.

Shahara walked to his side, squatted down, his voice trembling.

"Father, can we... still go out?"

Tie Mu Er looked at him, then suddenly laughed.

His smile was bitter, like eating Huanglian.

"Go out, where to?"

Shahara was stunned.

Tie Mu Er stood up, walked to the window, and looked outside through the crack.

"Shahara, remember, from today onward, the Timur Empire is gone."

Shahara opened his mouth, but could not speak.

Tie Mu Er turned around, looking at his son.

"That King Wu is not someone we can handle; with his three thousand men he could capture Samaerhan, yet when a hundred thousand army came, he still lost."

He paused, sighing.

"We should accept our fate."

Shahara lowered his head, saying nothing further.

……

At night, Samaerhan was unusually quiet.

The townsfolk had shut their doors early, hiding inside their homes.

Those Timur Empire officials were locked in a side hall, sleepless through the night.

Longxiang Army soldiers patrolled the city walls, occasionally uttering a few words.

Zhu Yong stood by the palace bedroom window, gazing at the night outside.

Guanyin Nu came over and draped a cloak over him.

"Prince, aren't you sleeping yet?"

Zhu Yong shook his head, gripping her hand.

"Can't sleep, just thinking about things."

Guanyin Nu leaned on his shoulder, softly asking, "What are you thinking about?"

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "I'm wondering whether Jiahanjier will return."

Guanyin Nu lifted her head, looking at him.

"He was defeated, yet dares to come back?"

Zhu Yong's mouth twitched slightly.

"He doesn't dare, but others do; the Timur Empire has more than just his son, and more than his army."

Guanyin Nu said nothing, merely tightening her grip on his hand.

She knew her husband was right.

The capital was lost, the father captured; how could those princes possibly be satisfied?

They would certainly come back.

With even more people.

But she also knew her husband was unafraid.

Three thousand against a hundred thousand, they won.

Three thousand against two hundred thousand, three hundred thousand, they could still win.

Outside the window, Moonlight was like water.

In the distance, a faint wind could be heard.

Samaerhan's night was so quiet it made the heart uneasy.

Yet behind this calm, a new storm was brewing.

……

Early the next morning, Zhu Yong rose at dawn.

He first went up to the city wall to survey the outside.

On the Gobi beach, the engineers' camp was still busy.

Those corpses had been more than half buried overnight.

The remainder should be dealt with today.

Zhou Daniu ran up from below the city, kneeling on one knee.

"Prince, the battlefield has been mostly cleared; over at the prisoners, the lightly wounded have been gathered—more than three thousand—and the seriously wounded… as you said, were given a single slash."

Zhu Yong nodded.

"How are the surrendered troops?"

Zhou Daniu replied, "They're fine; that group of A Qizi is quite obedient, doing whatever they're told. A few even tried to help voluntarily, but Zhao Hu stopped them."

Zhu Yong smiled.

"That kid Zhao Hu does know how to buy people's hearts."

Zhou Daniu grinned, "He can chat with anyone; those surrendered troops now see him and bow their heads."

Zhu Yong nodded, saying nothing more.

……

After breakfast, Zhu Yong went to the side hall where Tie Mu Er was being held.

Tie Mu Er was sitting by the window; when he saw him enter, he stood up.

"Prince."

Zhu Yong waved his hand, indicating that he should sit.

He sat opposite Tie Mu Er and got straight to the point.

"Jia Han Ji Er fled, what about the others? How many sons do you still have outside?"

Tie Mu Er was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "Three. My second son Omar is at the Indian border, my third son Milansha is in the Golden Horde, my fifth son… is still young, in Samarkhan City, held by your men."

Zhu Yong nodded; it was about the same as what he knew.

"How many men does Omar command?"

"Eighty thousand."

"And Milansha?"

"Fifty thousand."

Zhu Yong squinted.

Together 130,000, and with the over 20,000 that Jia Han Ji Er fled with, it's about 150,000 to 160,000.

Enough for a battle.

Tie Mu Er looked at him and suddenly asked, "Prince, what do you intend to do with us?"

Zhu Yong gave him a glance and said calmly, "Send you back to Great Ming to meet my Imperial Father."

Tie Mu Er was stunned.

"Meet… meet the Ming Emperor?"

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "Yes, Imperial Father wants to see you."

Tie Mu Er was silent for a long time, then finally asked, "And after the meeting?"

Zhu Yong stood up and walked to the window.

"Afterwards? It depends on Imperial Father's wishes—perhaps he'll grant you a title, perhaps let you retire in Yingtian Prefecture, perhaps…"

He paused, then turned back to look at Tie Mu Er.

"Perhaps he'll cut off your head."

Tie Mu Er's complexion changed.

Zhu Yong smiled.

"Rest assured, Imperial Father rarely kills, unless the person deserves death."

He walked to the doorway, suddenly halted, and turned back to say another sentence.

"Spend the next few days thinking carefully about what to say and what not to say when you meet Imperial Father."

Having said that, he pushed the door open and walked out.

Tie Mu Er remained seated, motionless for a long while.

……

At dusk, the scout returned.

"Prince! There's movement at the Indian border; Omar is gathering a great army, likely heading toward Samarkhan."

Zhu Yong nodded; it was no surprise.

"How many?"

"At present at least fifty thousand, still increasing."

Zhu Yong squinted.

Fifty thousand, plus the follow‑up forces, should be about eighty thousand.

And adding the Golden Horde side…

He looked at another scout.

"And the Golden Horde?"

The scout replied, "There's movement there too; Milansha is redeploying troops, about thirty thousand or so."

Zhu Yong did the math.

Jia Han Ji Er's over twenty thousand that fled, Omar's eighty thousand, Milansha's thirty thousand—together another 130,000 to 140,000.

Adding the previously eliminated seventy thousand, the Timur Empire's three hundred thousand army, about two hundred thousand remain.

Enough for several battles.

He stood up and walked to the map hanging on the wall.

His finger pointed on the map, moving slowly.

"Send the orders down: have Zhou Da Niu keep digging traps, burying explosives, within five li outside the city—dig as much as possible."

"Yes!"

"Have the Artisan Camp personnel inspect the city walls; any damage must be repaired immediately, all cannons positioned, ammunition stocked."

"Yes!"

"Send Zhao Hu to recruit defectors, those who look honest, give them more food, and have them help defend the city."

"Yes!"

Orders were passed down one after another.

On the city walls, Longxiang Army soldiers busied themselves.

Outside the city, the Engineer Camp personnel continued digging pits.

Inside the city, the troops were organized to transport supplies.

Everything was orderly.

Zhu Yong stood on the city wall, gazing into the distance.

The sun set again.

The last glow on the horizon gradually faded, and darkness shrouded the land.

But Zhu Yong knew this was only temporary.

Soon, dawn would return.

A new battle would also come.

Zhu Yong turned and walked down the wall.

Behind him, Great Ming's banners rustled in the night wind.