Chapter 333: The Seventeenth Year of Hongwu

……

At the beginning of November, Chang Yuchun returned to Great Ming.

He led twenty thousand troops, escorting Tie Mu Er and several of his sons, along with the Timur Empire's gold and silver treasures, and marched east in great numbers.

Zhu Yong escorted them to a point thirty li outside the city.

"Chang Shu, take care on the road," Zhu Yong said, clasping his fists.

Chang Yuchun looked at him, his eyes slightly reddened.

"Yong Er, stay well here; if anything arises, send word back. Your Imperial Father said this land will be yours from now on; manage it well."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Chang Yuchun patted his shoulder again, turned and mounted his horse.

"We're leaving!"

The army began to move slowly, clouds of dust billowing.

Zhu Yong stood where he was, watching the column recede gradually, disappearing at the edge of Heaven and Earth.

……

In mid‑November, the first batch of Great Ming immigrants arrived.

Five thousand households, over twenty thousand people, all came voluntarily.

There were farmers, artisans, merchants, and scholars.

They would take root in the Timur Empire, clear land for farming, conduct trade and crafts, and spread Great Ming's culture.

Zhu Yong went personally to greet them.

The common folk, upon seeing him, knelt and kowtowed.

"A humble subject presents himself to Prince Wu!"

Zhu Yong waved his hand and said, "Rise! From now on we are one family; no need for such formality."

He pointed to the vast land in the distance and said, "That plot will be yours from now on; cultivate it well, tend it well, and in a few years you will be the masters of this place."

The people lifted their heads, looking at the prince riding on horseback.

Sunlight fell upon him, gilding his outline with a golden rim.

At that moment, a strange feeling rose in everyone's hearts.

Following such a prince cannot be wrong.

……

In the twelfth month, the first snow fell in Samarhan.

Snowflakes swirled, turning the whole city into a sheet of pure white.

Zhu Yong stood on the city tower, gazing at the world cloaked in silver.

It's been a year.

Since leaving Yingtian Prefecture in the third month of the sixteenth year of Hongwu, almost ten months have passed.

In those ten months, he trekked tens of thousands of li, fought several great battles, and seized this land larger than Great Ming itself.

Now, everything is gradually stabilizing.

The dissenting forces have been eliminated.

The trouble‑making civilians have been pacified.

The surrendered soldiers have been incorporated.

The first batch of immigrants has arrived, and the second batch is soon to come.

In a few more years, this land will truly become part of Great Ming.

Guanyin Nu ascended the city tower and draped a Great Cloak over him.

"Prince, it's cold; don't freeze."

Zhu Yong grasped her hand and whispered, "I'm not cold."

Guanyin Nu leaned on his shoulder, looking at the distant snowy scenery.

"Prince, do you think we will stay here forever?"

Zhu Yong shook his head and laughed, "No. Once this place stabilizes, we'll return; Yingtian Prefecture is our home."

Guanyin Nu nodded and smiled.

In the distance, the city's residents began preparing for the New Year.

Some put up spring couplets, some hung lanterns, some set off firecrackers.

Although this place is far from Great Ming, the New Year still must be celebrated.

Zhu Yong watched those busy figures, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

This land is slowly taking on the shape of Great Ming.

And all of this has only just begun.

……

The twenty‑third day of the twelfth month, the Minor New Year.

Zhu Yong held a banquet at Wu Wang Fu, entertaining the officials and immigrant representatives who came from Great Ming.

The banquet was simple, just some local dishes and a few jars of wine brought from Great Ming.

But the atmosphere was lively.

Everyone chatted and laughed, sharing their own stories.

Some spoke of their hometowns, some recounted sights on the road, some described the local customs and terrain.

Zhu Yong sat at the Main Seat, listening to the words, a strange feeling welling up inside him.

These people, from now on, will be his subjects.

This land, from now on, will be his fief.

He lifted the wine cup and stood up.

"Come, a toast to everyone, wishing you a good life here."

Everyone rose in turn, raising their wine cups.

"Thank you, Prince!"

After three rounds of wine, an old farmer stood up, his face flushed, and said: "Prince, a humble subject has a question, not sure whether I should ask it or not."

Zhu Yong said: "Ask."

The farmer said: "Prince, you have conquered such a vast area; how do you intend to govern it? Will we common folk be able to live well?"

Zhu Yong looked at him and said seriously: "How to govern? Just like Great Ming—light taxes and levies, rest with the people. Here, just as in Great Ming, pay the taxes that are due, don't pay those that aren't. If you have grievances you can lodge a complaint, if you are in difficulty you can ask for assistance."

He paused, then added: "As for whether you can live well, that depends on you—cultivate the fields well, work diligently, conduct business properly, and naturally you will have a good life."

The farmer, after listening, bowed deeply.

"I understand, humble subject, thank you, Prince."

……

The thirtieth day of the twelfth month, New Year's Eve.

Zhu Yong, with Guanyin Nu and the children, kept watch over the New Year in Wu Wang Fu.

Zhu Huanhuan, now a grown girl, sat beside her mother, quietly reading a book.

Zhu Qiong Jiong, frighteningly energetic, ran around the courtyard, holding a small wooden hammer, chasing the servants' children in play.

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

In the distance, firecracker sounds rose and fell throughout the city.

This was the Timur Empire's first New Year's Eve.

The local common folk, though not fully understanding the holiday, joined in the merriment.

Some hung red lanterns at the doorway, some tried setting off firecrackers, some made dumplings.

Zhu Yong watched them, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

This land is gradually embracing Great Ming's culture.

In a few years, the people here will forget the Timur Empire and only remember Great Ming.

Guanyin Nu came over, saying softly: "Prince, come inside, it's cold outside."

Zhu Yong nodded and walked back into the house with her.

Inside, the brazier burned brightly, warm and cozy.

Zhu Huanhuan set down her book, came over, and said softly: "Father, Happy New Year."

Zhu Yong patted her head, laughing: "Happy New Year, Huan Huan is a year older now."

Zhu Qiong Jiong ran in, drenched in sweat, leaping onto Zhu Yong.

"Father, father, I just set off firecrackers outside, and they went off!"

Zhu Yong lifted him up, laughing: "Was it fun?"

Zhu Qiong Jiong nodded vigorously: "Fun! We'll set them off again next year!"

Zhu Yong smiled.

The family gathered around the brazier, keeping watch over the New Year, chatting and eating dumplings.

Outside the window, firecracker sounds gradually thinned.

The new year is about to arrive.

……

The seventeenth year of Hongwu, the first day of the first month.

Before dawn, Zhu Yong was already awake.

The familiar voice in his mind sounded right on time.

"Ding… Hongwu Year 17 sign‑in is now open, claim reward?"

"Claim."

"Congratulations, host, you have obtained: Improved Horse Breeding Method (cross‑breeding Mongol horses with Arabian horses to produce warhorses, cavalry quality leaps forward)."

Zhu Yong opened his eyes, looking at the dust mote hanging from the ceiling.

Improved horse breed.

This thing is just what we need.

In the Timur Empire, there are many Arabian horses, whose quality far exceeds that of Mongol horses.

If we can cross them with Mongol horses to breed a new warhorse variety, Great Ming's cavalry could reach a higher level of combat power.

He turned over, sat up, put on his clothes, and walked to the writing desk.

He picked up a brush and began to write.

"Big brother, personally: Happy New Year, all is well here; yesterday on New Year's Eve, our family kept watch at Samarhan, missing you all."

The White-bearded Old Man gave us something again, a method for improved horse breeding, allowing Mongol horses to cross with Arabian horses to produce better warhorses.

There are plenty of Arabian horses in the Timur Empire; I've already sent people to gather them, and once bred, a batch will be sent back to Great Ming.

This side has already stabilized, immigrants have arrived, the local officials have submitted, and the people are gradually accepting Great Ming's rule.

Big brother, don't worry, I'm doing fine here.

Missing father and mother, missing big brother, missing all of you.

Your younger brother Yong, respectfully.

After finishing the letter, Zhu Yong sealed it and handed it to the Imperial Troops outside.

"Have someone send it back to Great Ming on a swift horse."

"Yes."

……

Outside the window, the sky was gradually brightening.

The first ray of New Year's sunlight shone on the walls of Samarkand.

On the city tower, Great Ming's banner rustled in the wind.

Zhu Yong stood by the window, gazing at the golden light.

A new year, a new beginning.

This land will become better and better.

Great Ming's territory will expand more and more.

And Zhu Yong will continue to stand guard here.

Until this land truly becomes Great Ming's land.