Chapter 331: Cleaning 1

The sixteenth year of Hongwu, the eighteenth day of the eighth month.

Outside Samarkand, the morning light just began to filter through.

Zhu Yong stood on the city tower, gazing at the prisoner camp in the distance being rounded up.

The great battle three days ago saw the 190,000 Timur allied forces reduced to ash and smoke.

Ao Ma Er, Mi Lan Sha and Tu He Lu Ke, none missing, were all escorted into the city.

Including the previously captured Jia Hanji Er, Timur's four adult sons were now all present.

"Prince, General Chang has arrived," Zhang Wu strode up onto the tower.

Zhu Yong turned and saw Chang Yuchun rushing up in long strides.

"Your Highness, did you sleep well last night?" Chang Yuchun said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

Zhu Yong laughed, "Chang Shu, I slept soundly; you, however, have been busy rounding up prisoners these days—hard work."

Chang Yuchun waved his hand, "What hardship? I've been at war half my life; this is nothing."

He walked to the edge of the rampart, looked at the endless stretch of tents in the distance, and sighed, "Yong Er, I've fought for so many years and never enjoyed a battle so exhilarating."

Three thousand men seized the capital, three thousand drove back a hundred thousand, eight thousand reinforcements arrived, and the 190,000 allied army collapsed at a touch; you, kid, are truly a war genius.

Zhu Yong shook his head, "Chang Shu, it's not my skill, it's Great Ming's. Those Flintlock Guns, those plate armor, those explosives—none of them weren't forged day and night by the Ministry of Works' craftsmen?"

Chang Yuchun was momentarily stunned, then burst into hearty laughter.

"Well said—Great Ming is formidable, but even the finest tools need a skilled hand; you, kid, are that person."

The two stood side by side on the tower, watching the sun rise gradually in the distance.

"Your Highness, what are your plans next?" Chang Yuchun asked.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "The Timur Empire's territory is vast—east to the Western Regions, west to Persia, south to the Indus River, north to the Jin Khanate; it's not much smaller than Great Ming's own lands."

He paused, then continued, "Now the capital is taken, several princes captured, but many regions outside still resist; we must send men to subdue them."

Chang Yuchun nodded, "Whom do you intend to send?"

Zhu Yong looked at him.

Chang Yuchun was taken aback, then laughed, "You, kid, want me to run errands for you?"

Zhu Yong smiled, "Chang Shu, you brought fifty thousand men; you can't stay idle. For the east and north, you take twenty thousand to subdue; for the south and west, I will take ten thousand, and the remaining twenty thousand will guard Samarkand and watch the prisoners."

Chang Yuchun thought it over, nodded, "Fine, I'll follow your plan."

……

After the morning meal, Zhu Yong gathered the generals to discuss matters.

Inside the main tent, Zhang Wu, Chen Heng, Wang Gui and others were present, and Chang Yuchun arrived with several of his subordinate commanders.

Zhu Yong stood before the map, pointing at several locations.

"The Timur Empire is divided into four major regions. In the east lies the Ferghana Basin, where several major cities—Osh, Anjiyan, Haohan—stand as key trade hubs.

To the north is the E Da La area, near the Jin Khanate, where Turkic tribes reside and have long resisted Timur's rule.

The west borders Persia, including places like Dabulishi and Tehran, formerly Persian lands seized by Timur, where the populace remains unsettled.

To the south lies the Indus River basin, with major cities such as Murtan and Lahore near the Delhi Sultanate, territories Timur captured years ago, now garrisoned heavily.

He looked at Chang Yuchun and said, "Chang Shu, the east and north are yours—are twenty thousand enough?"

Chang Yuchun replied, "That's sufficient; those regions aren't for hard fighting, just a show of force to let the city lords know this is Great Ming's realm now."

Zhu Yong nodded and turned his gaze to Zhang Wu.

"Zhang Wu, lead ten thousand Longxiang Army with me to the west and south."

Zhang Wu clasped his fists and said, "Yes!"

Zhu Yong continued, "Chen Heng, you and Wang Gui stay behind, command the remaining Longxiang Army to guard Samarkand and watch the prisoners. Remember, don't let those princes die; they must be taken back to Great Ming later."

Chen Heng and Wang Gui replied in unison, "Yes!"

……

On the twentieth of August, Chang Yuchun led twenty thousand troops eastward.

On the twenty‑second of August, Zhu Yong commanded ten thousand troops westward.

Outside Samarkand, Guanyin Nu led the children, standing at the city gate to see them off.

Zhu Huanhuan stood beside her mother, watching her father ride away on horseback, her eyes slightly reddened.

Zhu Qiong Jiong lay on the rampart, thrusting his arm to wave at his father.

"Father! Come back soon!"

Zhu Yong turned back and waved at them.

Then he spurred his horse and rode away.

……

On the third day westward, the army arrived at a city called Bukhara.

It is the largest city west of Samarkand, a famed commercial hub on the Silk Road.

At the city gate, several merchants in brocade robes waited; seeing the rolling dust clouds in the distance, their faces turned pale.

"They're coming, they're coming, the Great Ming army!"

"Quick, prepare the gifts!"

Zhu Yong halted his warhorse, staring at the city.

The city walls were low, incomparable to Samarkand's, and at the gate stood a crowd—merchants in brocade, officials in long robes, and a few monks in kasaya.

A plump, big‑eared merchant hurried forward, bowing and nodding, and in stiff Chinese said, "Honorable Great Ming Prince, I am the president of the Bukhara Chamber of Commerce, named Arslan, and welcome you to Bukhara!"

Zhu Yong looked at him, calmly asking, "Where is your city lord?"

The city lord… the city lord… he fled three days ago; upon hearing that the Great Ming army had arrived, he fled overnight with his family.

Zhu Yong's mouth corner slightly lifted.

Ran...

Fine, that spares him from having to act.

"Enter the city."

Ten thousand troops marched grandly into Bukhara.

On the Street, the common folk hid behind doors and windows, peeking out secretly.

The soldiers clad in iron armor passed by in squads, so orderly it seemed measured with a ruler.

The sound of horse hooves shook the mud‑brick houses on both sides.

No one dared to speak.

Zhu Yong rode his horse at the front, his gaze sweeping across both sides of the Street.

Bukhara is much smaller than Samarkand, but more prosperous than those frontier cities.

Along both sides of the Street are shops, Workshops, inns, and some small food stalls.

An old man selling flatbread, pushing his cart at the street corner, saw the iron‑armored soldiers and his hands trembled.

A young Longxiang Army soldier walked past him, gave him a glance, and said nothing.

The old man let out a sigh.

When that squad of soldiers went far, he whispered to the young man beside him, "These people… aren't they looting?"

The young man whispered, "Loot what? Haven't you heard? Over in Samarkand, those Great Ming people enter the city, commit no crimes, and even pay for what they buy."

The old man was startled and asked, "Pay?"

The young man said, "Pay, I heard it's genuine, not fake."

The old man watched the soldiers receding, his eyes full of complexity.

Zhu Yong stayed in Bukhara for a day, meeting several local wealthy merchants and elders.

Those people were cooperative, expressing willingness to submit to Great Ming, pay taxes on time, and keep the peace.

Zhu Yong left five hundred Longxiang Army troops to garrison, and continued westward.

On August 28, the army arrived at the banks of the Am River.

The river was wide, the current swift, and the opposite bank was the Persian frontier.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, gazing at the opposite bank.

There were several cities there—Da Bu Li Shi, Dehe Lan— all Persian territories.

Tie Mu Er had captured them a few years ago, but the Persians were dissatisfied and kept resisting.

Now that Tie Mu Er is finished, those people will surely take the chance to cause trouble.

"Zhang Wu," Zhu Yong called.

Zhang Wu spurred his horse over.

"Send a few scouts across the river to see the situation over there."

"Yes."

Three days later, the scouts returned.

"Prince, the Da Bu Li Shi side is in chaos, the garrison left by Tie Mu Er was driven out by the locals, and now the Persians in the city rule themselves."

Zhu Yong nodded, as expected.

"What about Dehe Lan!"

"The Dehe Lan side is similar, but Tie Mu Er's garrison is still there, confronting the locals, and fighting hasn't broken out yet."

Zhu Yong thought for a moment, and said, "Cross the river, head first to Da Bu Li Shi."