Chapter 364: Fifth Uncle

Zhang Wu's men had already blocked the north gate, and the city's garrison dared not open the gate.

Ba Ye Ji De paced anxiously at the foot of the city.

"Open the gate! It's me! Sultan!"

No one on the wall dared to answer.

Zhu Yong chased down to the city foot and with a single hammer smashed the Ottoman Marshal's banner.

The black‑background, gold‑threaded crescent flag fell with a boom.

Ba Ye Ji De leapt from his horse and knelt on the ground.

"Surrender, I surrender…"

Zhu Yong halted his horse and looked down at him from his height.

"Had you done this earlier, it would have been fine."

Behind him, more than thirty thousand Ottoman soldiers knelt on the ground.

The clatter of weapons hitting the ground rang out everywhere.

In the center of the battlefield, a boy about half a grown man's size carried a Wolf Fang Club and stood amid a pile of Ottoman soldiers' corpses.

He was drenched in blood, his face splattered as well, yet his eyes shone terrifyingly.

Zhu Di led his men in a side‑rear charge and at a glance saw that boy.

He was stunned.

That build, that stance, that gaze…

"Qiong Jiong?"

Zhu Qiong Jiong turned his head, grinned at him and said, "Fifth Uncle…"

Zhu Di's face darkened instantly.

"Why are you here?"

"Fighting with dad," Zhu Qiong Jiong hoisted the Wolf Fang Club onto his shoulder, blood still dripping from its head.

"Does your father know?"

Zhu Qiong Jiong tucked his chin in and said, "No, I was hidden in a Grain and Fodder cart; it arrived yesterday."

Zhu Di inhaled deeply, intending to curse, but could not bring it out.

The child's gaze was exactly the same as Second Prince's back then.

"How many did you kill?"

Zhu Qiong Jiong thought for a moment and said, "I didn't count, maybe… thirty or forty."

Zhu Di stared at the heap of corpses on the ground and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

Thirty‑to‑forty.

A ten‑year‑old child, first time on a battlefield, killed thirty‑to‑forty.

He suddenly recalled that years ago, beneath Kaiping City, Second Prince alone shouldered a Battering Ram to smash the city gate, slaying Yuan army corpses everywhere.

At that time Second Prince was fourteen.

This child is even harsher than his father.

"Come, let's go find your father."

Zhu Di turned his horse around, and Zhu Qiong Jiong followed behind, the Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder, walking with a gust.

Zhu Yong was sitting on a large Stone, watching the soldiers clean the battlefield.

Ba Ye Ji De was bound hand and foot, tossed aside, his face ashen, no longer looking like a Sultan.

"Dad!" Zhu Qiong Jiong ran over.

Zhu Yong looked up, saw his son drenched in blood, a Wolf Fang Club taller than him slung over his shoulder, and frowned.

"Where did you come from?"

"Grain and Fodder cart, arrived yesterday," Zhu Qiong Jiong honestly reported.

Zhu Yong said nothing, just kept watching him.

Zhu Qiong Jiong tucked his chin again, whispered, "Dad, I was wrong, I shouldn't have slipped out."

"How many did you kill?"

"Thirty‑to‑forty…"

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment, then nodded, "Not bad."

Zhu Qiong Jiong's eyes lit up, "Dad, you won't scold me?"

"Why scold you? Going into battle and killing enemies is a good thing, but next time you must tell us in advance; you can't slip out." Zhu Yong stood, patted his shoulder and said.

"Yes!" Zhu Qiong Jiong puffed out his little chest.

Zhu Di, watching nearby, couldn't help but ask, "Second Prince, aren't you worried?"

Zhu Yong glanced at him and said, "Worried about what? He's my son; killing a few Ottomans won't kill him."

Zhu Di opened his mouth, but no words came out.

These two fathers, each harsher than the other.

Zhu Qiong Jiong planted the Wolf Fang Club into the ground and asked, "Dad, is this battle over?"

"It's over for now. Over there is Constantinople; when we reach there, it'll truly be over," Zhu Yong said, pointing toward the western sky.

Zhu Qiong Jiong's eyes shone terrifyingly, "Dad, I'm going too!"

"Go, I'll take you."

Zhu Di, listening nearby, shook his head repeatedly.

This child shares the same temperament as his father.

The news that Bursa City had fallen, when it reached Ankara, was already three days old.

The townsfolk hid in their homes, listening to the noises outside, not daring to let a breath out.

They knew the Sultan had been defeated, the city lost, and Great Ming's flag had been planted on Bursa's walls.

An old man who sold flatbreads stood at the street corner, watching the soldiers in iron armor pass before him, and suddenly recalled how those soldiers looked half a month earlier when they first entered the city.

Back then he was terrified, thinking disaster would befall him.

But half a month passed, and nothing happened.

He should sell flatbreads, and live his life.

He sighed, and pushed his cart home.

Meanwhile, in Yingtian Prefecture, thousands of miles away.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat in Qianqing Palace, holding a battle report that had just been forwarded from the Western Regions, his face showing no expression.

Outside Yingtian Prefecture's city, at the construction site, workers were still laying tracks.

The railway from Yingtian to Lanzhou had already been built as far as Xi'an.

Zhu Biao stood on the site, looking at the already‑laid track, thinking in his heart of his second brother far to the west.

This railway was built for him.

One day, it will reach Samarkand, and reach Constantinople.

When that time comes, the second brother's return will be swift.

"Accelerate the progress, aim to reach Lanzhou by next year," he said to the officials beside him.

The officials nodded in agreement.

Zhu Biao looked up at the sky, and silently whispered, "Second brother, take care."

In Bursa City, Zhu Yong sat in the Governor's Mansion courtyard, staring blankly at the Moonlight.

Zhu QiongJiong came running in from outside, carrying a Wolf Fang Club, drenched in sweat, his face flushed with excitement.

"Father, I just walked around the city wall, and over there you can see the sea!"

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "That is the Marmara Sea; beyond the sea lies Constantinople."

Zhu QiongJiong sat beside him, tilted his head up and asked, "Father, is Constantinople far?"

"Not far, a few hundred li."

"Then when shall we go?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "Soon, after Zhang Wu and his men settle the captives and the Grain and Fodder supplies catch up, we'll depart."

Zhu QiongJiong nodded, placed the Wolf Fang Club at his feet, leaned against his father's shoulder, and fell asleep after a short while.

Zhu Yong lowered his head, looking at his son, a faint smile curling his lips.

This child is exactly like him when he was young.

He fears neither heaven nor earth, and gets excited once on the battlefield.

Zhu Di walked in from outside, saw Zhu QiongJiong asleep, lowered his voice and asked, "Second Prince, shall we head west tomorrow?"

"Go, no waiting. Ba Ye Ji De has been captured; the Ottoman ranks are leaderless. We must seize this chance and push straight to Constantinople."

Zhu Di nodded and said, "I'll have people make preparations."

He turned, walked two steps, then looked back and said, "Second Prince, this child QiongJiong is like you."

Zhu Yong smiled and replied, "Not like me; like whom?"

Zhu Di shook his head and left.

Moonlight spilled into the courtyard, stretching the shadows of the father and son long.

In the distance, toward the Marmara Sea, a faint light could be seen.

It was the lights of Constantinople.

Thousands of miles away in Yingtian Prefecture, the lights in Qianqing Palace were also lit.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood by the window, holding that battle report, looking at it repeatedly.

Empress Ma came over, draped a coat over him and said, "Zhong Ba, it's time to rest."

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded, placed the battle report on the table.

"Girl, where do you think Yong Er's campaign can reach?"

Empress Ma thought and said, "Perhaps it can reach Constantinople."

Zhu Yuanzhang laughed, "You also know Constantinople?"

"When Yong Er returned last time, he said it's the world's foremost stronghold, its walls terrifyingly thick."

Zhu Yuanzhang hummed, "No matter how thick the walls, they can't stop our cannons."

He paused, then added, "Nor can they stop our hammers."

Empress Ma also laughed.

Outside the window, the moonlight was perfect.

The tracks outside Yingtian Prefecture's city glimmered silver in the moonlight.

From Yingtian to Xi'an, from Xi'an to Lanzhou, from Lanzhou to the Western Regions, from the Western Regions to Samarkand, from Samarkand to Constantinople.

One day, this railway will be built to the end of the world.

And the one who carried a hammer westward to strike will also follow this railway home.