Chapter 412: Even Filthier

Boom!

The city gate shuddered, and wood chips flew everywhere.

Second strike.

Rumble!

The latch snapped, the gate collapsed inward, smashing the ground and raising a cloud of dust.

Zhu Yong stood at the breach, watching the Portuguese soldiers inside whose faces were the color of earth.

"Those who surrender will not be killed."

Silence lasted for Three Breaths.

Then, someone—unknown who—first dropped a weapon, with a clang.

Then the second, the third…

The sounds of weapons hitting the ground rang out in a chorus.

The governor knelt on the ground, trembling all over, muttering something; it was unclear whether it was a plea for mercy or a prayer.

Zhu Yong did not look at him, and strode into the city.

Lisbon's Street was a bit wider than Faro's, but dirtier.

The ground was littered with trash, rotten vegetable leaves, broken bones, tattered cloth, all mixed with thick sludge that felt sticky underfoot.

Most of the houses on both sides were built of Stone, their wall plaster peeled away, exposing the dark interior Stone.

The windows were small and shut tightly, probably to block the outside stench.

There were few people on the Street; some hid inside houses, some knelt by the roadside, heads down, trembling all over.

A woman cradling a child knelt in a corner; the child wailed loudly, and she covered its mouth, fearing its cries would anger the armored soldiers.

Zhu Yong walked past her without stopping.

His gaze swept the sides of the Street, and only one thought occupied his mind: this place must be thoroughly rebuilt.

"Second Prince, did you smell it?" Zhu Gang followed behind him, covering his nose, his face turning green.

"Smelled it."

"Why does this place smell worse than a cesspit? Don't the French machines have no cesspits here?"

"They all… defecate everywhere...."

Zhu Gang opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Zhu Di walked behind, his expression calm, yet his brows remained furrowed.

He had spent several years in the Western Regions, had seen all kinds of harsh environments, but Lisbon's filth, chaos, and squalor still exceeded his imagination.

Zhu Shuang caught up from behind, his complexion pale, still seasick, but his spirit was fine.

He walked to Zhu Yong's side, glanced at the Street on both sides, and frowned, "Second Prince, can people live in this place?"

"Even if it's uninhabitable, we must occupy it; after conquering Europe, someone has to govern."

Zhu Shuang said nothing further.

He knew the Second Prince was right.

Europe may be dirty, smelly, and its people not great, but the territory is vast, the population large, and resources abundant.

Seizing Europe would more than double Great Ming's domain.

The party walked to the central plaza of the city.

The plaza was small, paved with stone slabs, but the slabs were all filthy, slick underfoot.

In the center of the plaza stood a stone pillar, its top bearing a cross, the Portuguese religious symbol.

Zhu Yong halted on the plaza, turned, and looked at the Longxiang Army behind him.

Five thousand men formed a half‑li formation, armor like a forest, Flintlock Guns pointed en masse toward the sky.

"Issue orders: take over the city defenses, confiscate weapons, close the city gates."

"Yes!"

Wang Gui led his men and went.

Zhu Yong looked at Zhu Gang again: "Fourth brother, lead men to the granary and tally how much food there is."

Zhu Gang responded with a nod and led his men away.

"Fifth brother, lead men to the palace and see if the king is still there."

Zhu Di nodded, leading his men toward the north of the city.

"Third brother, find a cleaner spot for us to stay tonight."

Zhu Shuang hesitated briefly and asked, "Second Prince, is there any clean place here?"

Zhu Yong fell silent for a moment.

Indeed, this place has not even a foothold to stand on.

"Then find the relatively clean area, have people boil a few pots of hot water and rinse the houses through."

Zhu Shuang nodded, leading his men away.

Zhu Qiongjiong stayed beside his father, shouldering a Wolf Fang Club, his eyes darting everywhere.

"Father, why do these people live like pigs?"

Zhu Yong glanced at his son and said, "Even pigs are cleaner than them; at least pigs don't defecate in their own nests."

Zhu Qiongjiong grinned.

Zhu Yong stood on the plaza for a while, watching the captives that had been dragged in.

Portuguese soldiers formed rows, trudging with downcast heads; some wept, some trembled, some muttered something as if praying.

Their clothes were so dirty their colors were indiscernible, hair a mess, faces covered in grime, and their nail beds packed with black mud.

There were a few daring ones who, secretly raising their heads to look at Zhu Yong, had fear in their eyes as well as curiosity.

Zhu Yong looked at them, and suddenly felt a pang of emotion.

These people are also human.

But they live far from being human.

They don't bathe, don't clean, live in latrines, eat moldy food, and drink unclean water.

No wonder the Black Death in Europe killed so many.

"Wang Gui…" he called out.

Wang Gui ran over from afar, clasped his fists and said, "Your Highness…"

"Have someone boil a few pots of hot water, wash these captives clean, then give them fresh clothes, and then interrogate them."

Wang Gui was startled for a moment and said, "Your Highness, give them a bath?"

"Wash them; how can we question them if we don't? Their stench clouds the mind."

Wang Gui replied, then turned and left.

Zhu Yong stood on the square, watching those captives being marched away in squads.

The setting sun sank, dyeing the whole city a dark crimson.

In the distance over the sea, the steamship's smokestack still puffed, its black plume glaring in the sunset.

Zhu Gang returned, his complexion not very good.

"Second Prince, the granary has been found; the grain is scarce, enough for us to eat for a few months."

Zhu Yong nodded.

A few months, that's enough.

Zhu Di also returned.

"Second Prince, the palace has been found; the king fled northward, probably to Porto."

Zhu Yong hummed, saying nothing.

"If the king has fled, let him flee; a monk can run but not leave his temple."

"Wait until he cleans up Portugal, then go to Porto to find him."

Zhu Shuang was the last to return, a faint smile on his face.

"Second Prince, we found a clean place—a monastery in the north of the city; it's relatively tidy. I've already had someone boil hot water and rinse it."

Zhu Yong nodded and led a few younger brothers toward the north of the city.

The monastery sits on a small hill in the north, built of stone and whitewashed outside, looking cleaner than the city's houses.

The courtyard is small, with a few olive trees; beneath them are stone tables and stone benches.

The ground is paved with stone slabs; though a bit dirty, they're far cleaner than the city's streets.

Zhu Yong sat on a stone bench and let out a long sigh.

Zhu Gang, Zhu Di and Zhu Shuang also sat down.

The four brothers gathered around the stone table, none speaking.

Zhu Qiongjiong squatted under the olive tree, holding a Wolf Fang Club and drawing something on the ground.

After a while, Zhu Gang spoke first: "Second Prince, do we really intend to conquer all of Europe?"

Zhu Yong glanced at him, "What, you don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't want to; it's just that… this place is too filthy. After taking it, we'd have to clean it up; just thinking of it gives me a headache."

Zhu Yong said calmly, "If it's dirty, we clean; if it stinks, we wash. Europe wasn't born dirty; it's just uncared for. Now that we're here, we must manage it."

Zhu Gang fell silent.

He knew Second Prince was right.

Europe wasn't born dirty; it's those kings, nobles, and the Church that neglect it.

They only know how to indulge themselves, caring nothing for the lives of the common folk.

Zhu Di suddenly said, "Second Prince, that French king fled to Porto; should we pursue?"

"Pursue, but not now; first secure Lisbon, clean up southern Portugal, then march north."

Zhu Di nodded.

Zhu Shuang asked beside him, "Second Prince, after Portugal?"

"Conquer Spain."

"After Spain?"

"Conquer France."

"After France?"

"Conquer the Holy Roman Empire."

Zhu Shuang asked no more.

He knew Second Prince's ambition wasn't just Portugal, but all of Europe.

The brothers fell silent again for a while.

Zhu Yong stood up, walked to the olive tree, and gazed at the distant sea.

The sun had already set; only a final streak of dark red remained on the horizon.

On the sea, the steamship's lights flickered one by one like stars in the darkness.

"Father, when will we go home?" Zhu Qiongjiong squatted under the tree and asked suddenly.

Zhu Yong lowered his head and looked at his son.

The twelve‑year‑old boy, thin and dark, had bright eyes.

He recalled that when he was twelve, he was still hunting wild boars in Fengyang Mountain Village, starving to the point of being pale and skinny.

And this child has already crossed the Great Ocean with him and arrived in Europe.

"Almost there, just wait until we finish this battle."

"After finishing Europe, go home?"

"Yeah, after finishing Europe we'll go home."

Zhu Qiong nodded, saying nothing further.

He hoisted the Wolf Fang Club, stood up, walked to his father's side, and together they gazed at the distant sea.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying a salty, fishy scent, and also the unpleasant stench of Lisbon City.

But the boy had already become accustomed to it.

He stood beside his father, his back straight as a newly drawn sword.

As night deepened, the lights of Lisbon City lit up one by one.

This bustling city at the southwest corner of Europe has, from today onward, a new master.