Chapter 353: Returning to Tie Mu Er Residence

The nineteenth year of Hongwu, the ninth day of the third month.

Tie Mu Er Residence, Samarkhan City.

Zhu Yong stood on the city tower, gazing at the familiar stretch of Gobi desert in the distance.

The wind‑blown sand was a bit less than two years ago, the fields outside the city had multiplied, and the criss‑crossing canals diverted meltwater into the soil, making the wheat seedlings lush and dripping with green.

After being away for a full two years, he returned.

"Prince, all the documents from the city have arrived, piled up in a whole room," Zhang Wuhe strode up the city tower.

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "Let's go take a look."

Two years—neither long nor short.

Zhang Wuhe and Chen Heng managed Tie Mu Er Residence with meticulous order; every tax due was collected down to the last fraction, every canal to be repaired was done without omission, and the tribal chiefs who once harbored ulterior motives had all become obedient.

Yet the accumulated state affairs still filled an entire study to the brim.

Zhu Yong sat at the desk, leafing through the documents one by one.

Land allocation, tax statistics, water‑works, opening trade routes, resettling migrants… every detail required his review.

Fortunately, Zhang Wuhe and Chen Heng were veterans who had followed him for years; they could decide major matters and were careful with minor ones, so few issues required his direct decision.

Just as he was looking, Wang Gui entered, holding a letter in his hand.

"Prince, an urgent report from the west,"

Zhu Yong took the letter and unfolded it.

The letter was written by a commander stationed on the Persian frontier, the handwriting hasty, clearly penned in a rush.

"Your Highness, in recent months the Ottoman Empire, the Mamluk Kingdom of Egypt, and the remnants of the Golden Horde have repeatedly massed troops at the border, suggesting a change of situation.

According to scout reports, the three parties have already convened at Hamadan, agreeing to launch a joint attack on our Great Ming Tie Mu Er Residence. I have reinforced border defenses; please decide, Your Highness,"

Zhu Yong set the letter down, his expression calm.

He had long anticipated this day.

The Timur Empire had originally been the strongest power in West Asia, sweeping across Persia, the Mesopotamian basin, and Anatolia, leaving the Ottoman Empire unable to lift its head.

Now that the Timur Empire has been absorbed by Great Ming, those nations once bullied by Timur are naturally stirring.

Moreover, Great Ming lies far to the east, and Tie Mu Er Residence is a distant enclave.

In their eyes, it is a piece of fat meat.

"Zhang Wuhe, Chen Heng, go to the Central Command Tent," Zhu Yong rose to his feet.

Inside the Central Command Tent, the sand table was already set.

The terrain west of Tie Mu Er Residence—mountains, rivers, city walls, passes—was laid out crystal clear.

Zhu Yong stood before the sand table, pointing to Hamadan's location, and asked, "Ottoman, Mamluk, Golden Horde remnants—how many troops each?"

Zhang Wuhe replied, "Scouts report the Ottomans field fifty thousand, the Mamluks thirty thousand, the Golden Horde remnants twenty thousand—totaling one hundred thousand."

"One hundred thousand… they actually respect us," Zhu Yong's mouth twitched slightly.

Chen Heng said, "Prince, our forces in Tie Mu Er Residence: Longxiang Army five thousand, locally recruited troops reorganized to twenty thousand, plus garrisons from various regions, totaling less than forty thousand.

A hundred‑thousand army pressing on our borders, a head‑on fight would be…"

"Who says we must fight outright? Their three‑way alliance looks large but their hearts are not united. The Ottomans want to retake Anatolia, the Mamluks aim to control Syria, the Golden Horde remnants seek to reclaim lost lands. Each has its own calculations; who will be the first to sacrifice themselves?"

Zhu Yong cut him off, saying,

He drew several lines on the sand table and said, "Send orders: all border towns strengthen defenses, fortify walls and clear fields. Relocate the civilians to the rear, seal the wells, and move Grain and Fodder away. Their hundred‑thousand army comes from afar; the supply line stretched that long will drag them to death."

"Understood," Zhang Wuhe acknowledged.

Zhu Yong added, "Send envoys to the border tribes of the Ottoman Empire, tell them Great Ming is willing to trade—tea, silk, porcelain, all negotiable.

But if they side wholeheartedly with the Ottomans, don't blame me for showing no mercy."

"Prince, are you trying to sow division among them?" Chen Heng asked.

Zhu Yong smiled and said, "The tribes on the Grassland will follow whoever offers better benefits; the Ottomans can give them something, Great Ming can give more, let them weigh it themselves."

Zhu Yong smiled and said, "The tribes on the Grassland will follow whoever gives them benefits; what the Ottomans can give them, Great Ming can give more, let them weigh it themselves."

Orders flowed down one after another, and the atmosphere in the Central Command Tent gradually relaxed.

Zhu Yong leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest.

If that hundred‑thousand army had appeared a decade ago, he would have led the Longxiang Army to charge without hesitation.

But now it cannot be; he is Prince Wu, the master of Tie Mu Er Residence, and must consider the people of this land.

If we can avoid fighting, we won't. If we must fight, we must fight beautifully.

Returning to Wang Fu, it was already evening.

Guanyin Nu was gathering luggage with the children in the courtyard, Zhu Huanhuan sat under the veranda reading, and Zhu Qiong Jiong was lifting a Stone Lock in the courtyard.

Having not returned for two years, the pomegranate tree in the courtyard had thickened another ring, its blossoms now in full splendor.

"Father!" Seeing Zhu Yong enter, Zhu Qiong Jiong dropped the Stone Lock and ran over, "You're back! Is the west about to go to war? I heard Uncle Zhang say…"

"Dad!" Seeing Zhu Yong come in, Zhu Qiong Jiong dropped the Stone Lock and ran over, "You're back! Is there going to be a war in the west? I heard Uncle Zhang say…"

Zhu Qiong Jiong tucked his neck and said, "I heard it myself, Father, I also want to go to war…"

"You are only ten years old; what war can you fight? Train hard in martial arts, study your books, and when the time comes for you to fight, you'll be ready," Zhu Yong patted his head.

Zhu Qiong Jiong pursed his lips and fell silent.

Zhu Huanhuan set the book down, walked over, and softly asked, "Father, is the west really going to war?"

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "Some petty clowns think we are easy to bully."

Zhu Huanhuan fell silent for a moment and said, "Then are you going on a campaign again?"

"Not necessarily; if we can avoid fighting, we won't," Zhu Yong sat on the veranda, "Where is your mother?"

"Not necessarily; if we can avoid fighting, we won't." Zhu Yong sat down in the corridor, "What about your mother?"

In the kitchen, (they) said they would make the lamb pilaf you love.

Zhu Yong smiled.

Guanyin Nu's skill was learned from the local cooks of Tie Mu Er's manor, and the pilaf she makes is even more fragrant than that of the Imperial Kitchen of Yingtian Prefecture.

Just then, Guanyin Nu carried a plate of pilaf out of the kitchen and set it on the stone table.

"Prince, eat first; even the greatest matters must wait until you're full."

Zhu Yong took the bowl, took a bite, and nodded, "It's still the fragrance of home‑cooked rice."

Guanyin Nu sat beside him and whispered, "Do we really have to fight?"

Zhu Yong set the bowl down and said, "Not necessarily; it depends on what they choose. If we really have to fight, we're not afraid."

Guanyin Nu asked no further.

She had followed Zhu Yong for over ten years and knew his temper.

If a fight can be avoided, it won't be; but when a fight does break out, he has never lost.

……

Three days later, news came from the border.

An envoy of the Ottoman Empire arrived at Samarkhan, saying he came to "negotiate."

Zhu Yong received him in the main hall of the royal palace.

The visitor was a Turk in his fifties, dressed in a splendid brocade robe, sporting a large beard, and speaking halting Persian.

"Honorable Prince Wu, I am the envoy of Sultan Bayezid I of the Ottoman Empire, sent by the Sultan to discuss border matters with Your Highness."

Zhu Yong leaned on the throne and said lightly, "Discuss what?"

The envoy said, "The Timur Empire was originally a neighbor of the Ottoman Empire, but has now been annexed by Great Ming, and our Sultan is deeply concerned about this."

"Your Highness is far in the East, while Tie Mu Er's manor is isolated in the Western Regions; perhaps …"

"Perhaps what?"

The envoy paused, then forced himself to say, "Perhaps return the western lands of Tie Mu Er's manor to the Ottoman Empire. In return, we are willing to forge an eternal alliance with Great Ming, engage in trade, and mutually refrain from aggression."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Zhang Wu's hand was already on the hilt of his sword, and Chen Heng's complexion darkened.

Zhu Yong, however, smiled.

"Return? This land belongs to you Ottomans; when Timur fought you, why didn't he speak of returning it?"

The envoy's expression changed.

Zhu Yong stood, walked to his front, looked down at him from above and said, "Go back and tell your Sultan that Tie Mu Er's manor is Great Ming's land; not an inch will be given up."

"If you want war, come at will. I, the Prince, am waiting at Samarkhan."

The envoy's legs grew a bit weak, but he forced himself and said, "Your Highness, our Ottoman forces number a hundred thousand …"

"One hundred thousand … Timur also commanded a hundred thousand troops back then; now he is retired in Yingtian Prefecture. So, does your Sultan intend to go to Yingtian Prefecture to accompany him?" Zhu Yong cut him off.

The envoy fell silent.

Zhu Yong turned, walked back to the throne, waved his hand and said, "See the guest out."

When the envoy was led away, his complexion was ghastly.

Zhang Wu snorted, "A creature that knows neither life nor death."

Zhu Yong said nothing, walked to the sand table and surveyed the border situation.

The Ottoman sent the envoy merely to test his attitude.

Now that the test is over, it's time to prepare for war.

"Send the orders: all border towns enter combat readiness, artillery positioned, ammunition stocked, cavalry on standby behind, ready to strike at any moment."

"Yes."