Chapter 362: Westward March 3

The nineteenth year of Hongwu, the nineteenth day of the fourth month.

Eighty li west of Ankara City, on the banks of the Sakaria River.

Dawn was just breaking, the thin mist over the river had not yet dispersed, and the distant mountain ridges appeared faintly in the morning light.

Zhu Yong stood on a protruding rock by the riverbank, clutching a freshly delivered scout urgent report in his hand.

Baye Jide fled.

Three days earlier Ankara City fell; the Ottoman Sultan fled westward overnight with three thousand bodyguards, not even having time to pack the royal tent.

The scout reported that he headed all the way toward Bursa.

"Prince, the Ottomans are pulling back to their old stronghold," Zhang Wu said, standing beneath the rock, looking up.

Zhu Yong folded the urgent report, slipped it into his chest, and said calmly, "Bursa is the Ottomans' former capital, Constantinople is their new capital.

Baye Jide will not stop at Bursa; he will keep retreating to Constantinople, using the strait's natural defenses to wear us out."

"Then should we pursue?"

"We will, but not hastily. Ankara has just been taken; the townsfolk are not yet pacified, the granaries not inventoried, the wounded not settled.

Until these matters are finished, marching west feels uneasy," Zhu Yong jumped down from the rock, brushed the dust off his hands, and said.

He turned and walked back, with Zhang Wu following behind.

The army set up camp outside Ankara City; tents stretched for miles, and cooking smoke curled upward.

The soldiers had already started fires to cook, and the air was scented with Dry Rations and jerky.

A few Firehead Soldiers carried a large pot past the tents, the pot containing thin porridge, steaming hot.

Zhu Yong walked to the Central Command Tent, where Zhu Di was squatting on the ground, drawing a map with a branch.

"Second Prince, look… the Sakaria River from here westward is all plain, all the way to Bursa there is no particularly dangerous terrain; if Baye Jide wanted to fight us at Bursa, he lacks the courage.

He still commands at most twenty‑plus thousand men; what can they use to fight?" Zhu Di said, pointing at the sketch on the ground.

"If he doesn't fight, he'll stall, waiting for us to reach the foot of Constantinople's walls, then he will hold the walls to the death, awaiting European reinforcements.

The Ottomans still hold many territories on the Balkan Peninsula; those vassal states together could muster a hundred thousand or eighty thousand," Zhu Yong sat on a Stone beside him.

Zhu Di frowned and asked, "Then what shall we do?"

"Capture it. No matter how thick Constantinople's walls are, they cannot stop rear‑mounted breech‑loading cannons. When we opened the plains, the walls weren't much shorter than Constantinople's, and my three hammers smashed them open," Zhu Yong said calmly.

Zhu Di opened his mouth, about to say… "That was you, not a cannon."

But after a moment, he swallowed the words.

The rear‑mounted breech‑loading cannon that Second Prince mentioned was only standardized in the eighteenth year of Hongwu; he had never seen live fire, but people from the Ministry of Works said the device could fire three li, and its exploding shells would blanket a wall, which could not withstand it.

"Send the order: the whole army will rest in Ankara for three days, and after three days, continue westward," Zhu Yong stood up and walked toward the tents.

Zhu Di called from behind, "Second Prince, where are you going?"

"Sleep… I haven't closed my eyes for three days."

Zhu Di watched Second Prince's silhouette disappear behind the tent curtains and shook his head.

Three days without sleep, yet he acts as if nothing.

This man, iron‑clad…

The townsfolk of Ankara City finally dared to go out these past two days.

When the city fell, they were terrified, trembling in their homes, believing the Ming army would loot and burn like the Mongols of old.

But after three days, nothing happened.

Those soldiers in iron armor passed by the door, not even glancing.

Occasionally a few soldiers knocked on doors, not to loot but to ask for directions.

An old man selling flatbread pushed his cart, trembling, and stopped at the street corner.

A young Longxiang Army soldier approached; the old man's legs went weak with fear, thinking his cart would be seized.

Instead, the soldier produced a few copper coins, bought a flatbread, and crouched by the road to eat it.

The old man stared at him, taking a long time to recover.

"General, you… don't loot?" he asked, mustering courage.

The soldier chewed the flatbread and mumbled, "If we loot, the Prince said we'd be beheaded."

The old man swallowed, then asked, "Then why are you here?"

"War. After it's over we'll leave," the soldier said, standing, patting the dust from his rear, and walked away.

The old man stood where he was, watching the soldier's retreating silhouette, and suddenly felt that these people weren't so terrifying after all.

Similar scenes unfolded in every street and alley of Ankara City.

At the gate of the great mosque in the city center, the Imam was calling believers for the noon prayer.

His voice was long and resonant, drifting over the ancient city. A few Longxiang Army soldiers passed the temple gate, stopped to listen, then continued their patrol.

They did not rush in, did not smash anything, not even glancing twice.

After finishing the prayer, the Imam stood at the gate, watching the iron‑armored soldiers, his heart a mix of emotions.

He had lived over sixty years, and the city had changed hands many times.

Byzantines came, Mongols came, Ottomans came.

Each time the city fell, blood ran like rivers, and the city wailed.

But this time… he shook his head, turned, and walked back into the temple.

Three days of rest—neither long nor short.

Zhu Yong slept a full day and night; when he awoke, it was already dark.

Guanyin Nu carried in a bowl of hot porridge and set it on the table.

"Prince, you haven't eaten in three days; have some porridge first."

Zhu Yong lifted the bowl, took a sip, and the heat made his teeth chatter.

"Drink more slowly; no one is fighting you for it," Guanyin Nu said, sitting at the bedside and looking at him.

Zhu Yong took two more sips, set the bowl down and asked, "Where are the children?"

"Huan Huan is reading, and Jiong Jiong is training in martial arts.

That child only knows how to lift the Stone Lock all day long, and his studies have all fallen behind," Guanyin Nu sighed.

Zhu Yong laughed, "Falling behind in studies is no worry; books can be read anytime, but strength not trained will be lost."

Guanyin Nu glared at him and said, "You just indulge him."

Zhu Yong gave no reply, lifted the bowl and continued drinking the porridge.

Guanyin Nu looked at him, then softly asked, "Prince, when are we going back?"

Zhu Yong was startled for a moment and said, "Back where?"

"Home, to Yingtian Prefecture."

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment, set the bowl down and said, "Until we finish this battle, if Baye Jide is not eliminated, the western side of Tie Mu Er Prefecture will stay unstable.

If he refuses, I will fight until he submits."

Guanyin Nu said nothing further.

She had followed him for over a decade and already knew that once this man decides something, no one can persuade him.

April 22, before dawn, the great army set out.

Fifty thousand Longxiang Army, thirty thousand Yan Army, together eighty thousand troops, marched westward in a massive, majestic advance.

Zhu Yong rode his horse at the front, with Zhu Di beside him.

The two brothers said nothing, only the hoofbeats echoed in the morning wind.

After three days, the army reached the western bank of the Sakarya River.

Scouts reported that fifty li ahead they spotted Ottoman scouts, about two hundred riders, retreating westward.

"Baye Jide is watching us; he knows we are heading west and knows our numbers. He dares not attack, yet he is unwilling to flee," Zhu Di said, urging his horse forward.

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "He knows he can't win, so he intends to stall, dragging it to winter; when our Grain and Fodder run low, he will win."

"Then what shall we do?"

"Strike quickly… before he gathers his reinforcements, seize Bursa, and bring troops to Constantinople."

The eighty‑thousand strong army quickened its march.

They covered eighty li each day, with no one shedding armor and no horse unbridling.

The Ottoman scouts followed from afar, watching the steel torrent pass before them, daring not even to approach.

April 26, the army arrived fifty li east of Bursa.

Baye Jide set up his formation here.

Over twenty thousand, with their backs against Bursa City, formed a front line.

Cavalry occupied the two wings, infantry in the center, and archers in the foremost rank.

The Formation was orderly, with clear advance and retreat.

Unlike the battle outside Ankara City, this time Baye Jide had no retreat.

If they retreat further, it would be to Constantinople.

Lose Constantinople, and the Ottoman Empire would be finished.

"Over twenty thousand against our eighty thousand, and he still dares to form a line?" Zhu Di halted his horse, looking at the opposing formation, somewhat puzzled.

Zhu Yong squinted and after a moment said, "It's not over twenty thousand, it's over forty thousand. Look at the wall behind him; people are still descending down."

He has also drawn out the garrison inside Bursa, and with reinforcements arriving from everywhere, mustered forty‑to‑fifty thousand men."

Zhu Di looked closely and indeed, at the city gate people continued streaming out endlessly.

"Forty‑to‑fifty thousand against eighty thousand, and he still loses," Zhu Di hummed.

"Losing is losing, but he can stall; each extra day buys the European reinforcements a day closer," Zhu Yong dismounted, took two drum‑vase golden hammers from his saddle and lifted them.

Zhu Di's complexion changed and he said, "Second Prince, you want to charge alone again?"

"Not alone. You lead twenty thousand from the front to press them, don't rush to charge; advance slowly, force them to shoot arrows, and when they've mostly exhausted their arrows, open the middle path. I'll take five thousand through the center to strike the core army directly."

Zhu Di gritted his teeth and said, "Fine. I'll follow Second Prince's plan."

Half an hour later, Zhu Di led twenty thousand Longxiang troops, slowly pushing forward from the front.

The Ottoman archers began to release arrows.

Arrows fell like rain, shooting toward the Longxiang Army.

But the Longxiang Army wore plate armor; the arrows clanged off their bodies, unable to wound them.