Chapter 377: Mother Consort's Teaching

When the sun rose to the zenith, the smoke on the battlefield finally cleared.

Zhu Yong sat on a large Stone, placing the hammer in his right hand at his feet, and the other one rested against the Stone.

A layer of dark‑red stuff smeared the hammerhead, emitting a strange dim glow in the sunlight.

He pulled a cloth from his chest and wiped it slowly.

It wouldn't come clean, just like it was under Kaiping City back then.

After the battle, clean the hammer; after cleaning the hammer, eat; after eating, sleep.

It's been over twenty years, and it hasn't changed.

Footsteps came from behind.

Zhu Qiongjiong hoisted the Wolf Fang Club and walked over, squatting beside his father, the club head stuck in the ground, and the shaft also coated with something.

The boy wiped the sweat from his face, grinned, and said, "Father, how many did we kill today?"

Zhu Yong glanced at his son and asked, "No count, what about you?"

"No count either, we were busy chasing that flag." Zhu Qiongjiong leaned the club against the Stone, pulled out a piece of Dry Rations and started gnawing, took two bites, choked, stretched his neck to swallow, then took a sip from his Water Bag, which eased it, and he let out a long sigh.

Zhu Yong continued wiping the hammer.

Across the battlefield, Longxiang Army soldiers were tidying up the aftermath, marching prisoners in groups toward the city, moving piles of weapons together, and carrying corpses to a distant burial site.

A few army medics crouched beside the wounded to bandage; some cried out in pain, others had already stopped.

In the distance, scattered flames flickered, the tents abandoned by fleeing deserters burning.

Zhu Gaochi emerged from the city, riding a small horse, with a few junior officials trailing behind.

The nine‑year‑old child wore a half‑worn blue shirt, a hint of baby‑fat on his face, but his expression was earnest.

He dismounted, walked up to Zhu Yong, and performed a proper bow, saying, "Second Prince."

"Arrived?" Zhu Yong said without raising his head.

"Mm."

Zhu Gaochi pulled a small notebook from his chest, opened it, and said, "The prisoners have been tallied: 14,000 Ottomans, 7,000 Serbians, 5,000 Hungarians, 3,000 Wallachians, a total of 29,000."

"Missing some."

"Some escaped, but we can recapture some before nightfall; the Grain and Fodder will feed these prisoners for a month and a half, over 20,000 Sword and Spear, 4,000 bows, 2,000 warhorses, and a dozen flags, including the Ottoman Marshal's flag."

He paused, then continued, "Brother Qiongjiong seized it."

Zhu Qiongjiong, still chewing Dry Rations, said indistinctly, "That flag's nice; later I'll hang it in my tent."

Zhu Gaochi was momentarily stunned, then laughed, "Brother Qiongjiong, that's a military flag; it must be handed over to the public."

"Hand it over when I hand it over; I'll hang it for a while first…"

Zhu Gaochi gave no reply, lowered his head, and kept turning the notebook.

Zhu Yong lifted his head, looked at him, and asked, "Anything else?"

Zhu Gaochi nodded and recorded each item.

Zhu Qiongjiong finished the Dry Rations, brushed the crumbs from his hands, and asked, "Gaochi, you spend all day noting these things; aren't you tired?"

"Tired… but it must be recorded; otherwise it becomes chaotic." Zhu Gaochi closed the notebook and said.

"If it's chaotic, just sort it out again."

"Sorting through takes time; during war, there isn't that much time."

Zhu Qiongjiong scratched his head, thought the words made sense but couldn't pinpoint why, gave up thinking, lifted the Wolf Fang Club, stood up, and said, "Father, I'll go over there and see; it seems some people haven't returned."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Zhu Qiongjiong hoisted the club and strode away, running with the wind.

Zhu Gaochi watched his back, a corner of his mouth curled, and opened the notebook again to continue writing.

Zhu Yong watched his diligent writing and suddenly thought of Zhu Xiongying; Zhu Yong felt that Zhu Gaochi, if not in temperament, at least in his manner of handling affairs, was strikingly like Zhu Xiongying.

Is Zhu Biao also…

"Gaochi…" Zhu Yong began.

Zhu Gaochi lifted his head.

"When your father was in the Western Regions, did he teach you these things every day?"

Zhu Gaochi shook his head and said, "My father taught warfare; these things were taught by the mother consort."

Zhu Yong was taken aback.

Xu Miaoyun? The quiet, soft‑spoken Princess of Yan?

"Mother consort said that a prince must not only know warfare but also be able to do accounts, manage people, read documents; she said Second Prince, you are the best in battle, but you never have to worry about accounting because you understand it yourself.

My father is different; not only does no one worry for him, his own calculations are poor, so I have to learn it myself."

Zhu Gaochi paused, then said, "Mother consort also said, if I can't master it, I'll end up like my father, spending half a day on an account and still not understanding it."

Zhu Yong smiled.

Zhu Di, that kid, really couldn't do accounts; back then he tried to calculate military rations, spent three days without getting it right, and was scolded for it.

"Your mother consort is right; study well."

Zhu Gaochi nodded vigorously.

Zhu Di strode over, drenched in sweat, blood splattered on his iron armor, his face showing little expression.

Seeing his son crouched on the ground writing, his steps halted; he circled around and said, "Second Prince, we chased out fifty li, captured over five thousand prisoners, and about ten thousand fled."

"What about Murad?"

"He ran, faster than a rabbit, Second Prince; what shall we do with those prisoners, over twenty thousand, keeping them in the city isn't a simple matter, we still have to feed them." Zhu Di sat down beside him and said.

Zhu Yong looked at the convoy of prisoners in the distance and said, "Those who surrender will be conscripted as auxiliary troops; those who refuse will be sent to build roads. From Constantinople westward, this road must be built; later a railway will also be useful."

Zhu Di nodded and replied, "Alright, I'll have someone handle it."

Zhu Di chuckled, paused briefly, then continued: "Second Prince, that kid went on a killing spree again today, chasing the Marshal's banner for several li, and I couldn't stop him."

Zhu Yong followed his gaze.

In the distance, Zhu QiongJiong was shouldering a Wolf Fang Club, walking back, with a half‑torn banner still hanging from the club head; he swaggered, and a few old soldiers followed, laughing and joking.

"Let him go," Zhu Yong withdrew his gaze.

Zhu Di sighed and said, "That kid is exactly like you were back then."

Zhu Yong said nothing.

When the sun was leaning westward, the battlefield had been mostly cleared.

The prisoners were marched into the city, weapons loaded onto carts, and the corpses were buried.

Zhu Yong stood on the city wall, looking at the western sky; the setting sun dyed the whole land a dark red, and scattered flames could still be seen in the distance.

Zhang Wu came up and said, "Your Highness, the casualty report is in: the Longxiang Army suffered 320 dead in battle and over 600 wounded. The Yan Army is about the same.

We have 29,000 prisoners, 2,000 warhorses, and enough Grain and Fodder for a month and a half."

Zhu Yong nodded.

Zhu Yong said nothing.

He looked at the devastated battlefield outside the city, his mind recalling the words Zhu Gaochi had just spoken; he understood the fighting, but the matters after the war must be handled by those who understand them.

Zhu Yong said to him, "Send someone to the Tie Mu Er Mansion to deliver a message, ask Wang Gui to send more Grain and Fodder, and also send a message to Chen Heng, telling him to return once his side is stabilized."

Zhang Wu replied with a sound and strode away.

At some point Zhu Di came up, stood beside him, and looked at him: "Second Prince, when will Elder Brother send people over?"

"Probably a few more months!"

Zhu Di nodded: "Elder Brother's side also lacks civil officials; in recent years we've held several imperial examinations, and only that few passed.

The Tie Mu Er Mansion took a batch, the Western Regions took a batch, the South Sea took a batch, Australia took another batch; everywhere is short of people."

Zhu Yong, looking at the distant sunset, said, "That's why Elder Brother should hold another imperial examination, to recruit more people."

"Will those who pass be willing to come to such a remote place?"

"Even if they don't want to, they must come; a Great Ming official goes wherever the court sends you. Besides, this place is no worse than Great Ming. Once the railway is completed, the trip from Yingtian to here will only take a few weeks."

Zhu Di laughed, "You think far ahead."

Zhu Yong said nothing.

He thought even farther than that.

When the railway is open, the trade routes open, and when the trade routes open, people will come.

When people arrive, this region truly becomes Great Ming's.

Zhu Gaochi, at an unknown time, also came up, standing beside his father, still clutching that small notebook in his hand.

Zhu Di lowered his head, looked at him, and asked, "Is the accounting finished?"

"Finished, Second Uncle, the letters for the officers among the prisoners are written—seven in total: three to Serbia, two to Hungary, one to Bulgaria, one to Wallachia."

"Would you like to see them?"

Zhu Yong took the notebook and flipped through it.

The handwriting was neat, the logic clear; who wrote to whom, where it was to be delivered, all were written plainly.

He handed the notebook back: "No need to look, I trust you with the task."

Zhu Gaochi was startled for a moment, then smiled, and performed a proper bow: "Yes, Second Uncle."

In the distance, Zhu QiongJiong, carrying the Ottoman Marshal's banner, walked up from below the city; the flag was huge, flapping loudly in the wind, and he strained to roll it up, then leaned against the city wall and said, "Father, can I hang this banner in my tent?"

"Fine, but don't hang it outside."

Zhu QiongJiong grinned.

Zhu Gaochi whispered nearby, "Brother QiongJiong, that banner is a military flag and must be turned over to the public according to regulations."

Zhu QiongJiong glared at him, "My father said it's fine, so it's fine." After a pause, he leaned closer, "Chi'er, you did the accounts all day today, are you tired?"

"Tired."

"Then go to bed early tonight; you have to do the accounting tomorrow."

Zhu Gaochi smiled.

The setting sun sank, and the last glow vanished on the horizon.

The lights in the city lit up one after another, and the townsfolk began to light fires and cook.

In the distance, toward the Maramara Sea, the silhouette of the last steamship disappeared below the horizon.

That was the ship heading to Yingtian Prefecture to deliver a message.