Chapter 426: Can Do It

The morning in Toledo City arrived a little later than usual.

In October, the Iberian Peninsula had already entered autumn, and the morning mist drifted up from the Tagus River Valley, wrapping the whole mountain city in a gray‑white haze.

The Great Ming banners on the city walls were damp and drooping, as if they hadn't yet woken up.

Zhu Yong stood on the palace tower, hands behind his back, gazing at the eastern horizon.

That was the direction of Aragon, also the direction Zhu Shuang had set out toward yesterday with ten thousand Longxiang Army.

The morning wind blew in from the east, carrying the mountain's characteristic chill and also the now‑faded stench of Toledo City; after more than half a month of cleaning, the effort finally showed results—the Street's waste and dung had been largely cleared away and scrubbed with lime water. Though still not as good as Yingtian Prefecture, at least it could breathe.

Footsteps sounded behind.

Zhu Di ascended the tower, clad in half‑worn iron armor, a short sword at his waist, his face revealing no expression.

He had spent several years in the Western Regions, developing a habit of showing no emotion, completely unlike Zhu Gang, who wore his feelings on his face.

"Second Prince, the fleet is ready."

Zhu Yong turned and looked at his fifth brother.

Zhu Di was twenty‑six this year, in the prime of his strength.

These years in the Western Regions were not wasted; from the boy who once idolized the Second Prince, he had become the Prince Yan who could act alone.

"Any news from Barcelona?"

Zhu Di walked to the railing, pointed east and said, "The fast ship we sent out the day before yesterday returned last night; Barcelona city has roughly three thousand garrison troops, the harbor holds about twenty merchant ships, and no warships.

The Aragonese main force is concentrated on the western front, watching the Third Prince, leaving the eastern front empty."

Zhu Yong nodded. It was just as he had expected.

Alfonso V piled his troops along the Castile border, hoping to loot the fire, never expecting Great Ming to cut off his rear by sea.

"When we reach Barcelona, how shall we fight?"

Zhu Di thought for a moment and said, "First bombard the harbor, sink those merchant ships, cut off their escape route, then land. The city's garrison is small; three thousand men aren't enough to fill the gaps of the Longxiang Army.

After taking Barcelona, push westward all the way to Zaragoza."

Zhu Yong asked no further.

Zhu Di never needed him to worry about battles; over the years, every restless tribe in the Western Regions had been put in line by him.

"The Aragonese church, like Castile's, has its churches confiscated and turned into schools; priests who wish to return to lay life are given land to farm, those who refuse are sent to mine."

Zhu Di nodded and turned to leave.

"Fifth Brother..." Zhu Yong called after him.

Zhu Di halted, turned his head to look at him.

Zhu Yong walked over and patted his shoulder. He said nothing, but between brothers some words need not be spoken.

Zhu Di was silent for a moment, then grinned, rarely showing the youthful face that once followed the Second Prince shouting, "Second Prince teach me to box."

"Second Prince, rest assured, if Barcelona can't be taken, I won't return to see you."

Zhu Yong also smiled and released his hand.

Zhu Di strode down from the tower, his iron boots striking the stone steps with a heavy thud.

Outside Toledo City's east gate, ten thousand Longxiang Army had completed their formation.

Iron armor rose like a forest, flintlock guns bristled toward the sky.

Warhorses flared their nostrils, fore hooves digging the ground, eager to spring.

Morning light spilled over the eastern mountain ridge, shining on the rows of iron armor with a cold, icy gleam.

Zhu Di rode his horse at the front, followed by a few Imperial Troops.

At the city gate, Zhu Yong stood there.

Zhu Di halted his horse, dismounted, walked to Zhu Yong, and knelt on one knee.

"Second Prince, I'm going."

Zhu Yong bent down, helped him up, looked at him, and said nothing.

The two brothers stared at each other for a moment.

Zhu Gang was absent, Zhu Shuang also absent—one in Portugal, one on Castile's eastern front, and now another at sea.

Four brothers, each stationed in a different place, each fighting his own battle.

"Take care on the road..." Zhu Yong finally spoke.

Zhu Di nodded, remounted, turned his horse, and with a sweeping gesture shouted, "Depart!"

Ten thousand Longxiang Army slowly set out, hooves sounding like muffled thunder as they marched east along the official road toward the Tagus river mouth.

From Toledo to the Tagus river mouth is over a hundred li; it takes two days to reach.

The fleet waited at the river mouth, loaded troops, set sail, and followed the coastline northeast; three to four days later they would reach Barcelona.

Zhu Yong stood at the city gate, watching the column gradually recede, disappearing into the morning mist.

Wang Gui came up from behind, speaking softly, "Prince, can Prince Yan proceed?"

"He can. That kid is steadier than his third and fourth brothers," Zhu Yong said, turning and walking into the city.

Wang Gui asked no further and followed behind.

On Toledo City's Street, Longxiang Army soldiers were conducting routine patrols.

A few soldiers pushed a cart loaded with vegetables and grain freshly brought from outside the city.

An old woman crouched by the road, cradling a child; the child clutched a piece of bread, crumbs smeared across his face. Seeing Zhu Yong, the woman hurried to her feet, bowed deeply, and muttered something.

Wang Gui translated, "Prince, she said thank you, that you are a good man."

Zhu Yong waved his hand and kept walking.

He walked along Toledo's Street, looking at the city that Great Ming had administered for over half a month.

The changes were slight, but it was clear the place was gradually improving.

The trash on the street has lessened, the feces have lessened, and the stench in the air has become milder.

Occasionally one can see a few locals wearing Great Ming‑style garments; they are the first batch of civilians willing to submit, having received clothing issued by Great Ming. Though the clothes do not fit well, they are far better than the filthy, color‑less rags they previously wore.

In the camp north of the city, the captives are carrying out the daily "mandatory lesson": bathing.

This is already the iron rule set by Zhu Yong.

No bathing, no food; no bathing, no clothing change; no bathing, they must work naked.

At first some resisted, but after two days of hunger they became obedient.

The Europeans' habit of not bathing persisted for centuries, but before a hungry belly, centuries of habit mean nothing.

Zhu Qiong Jiong stands at the camp entrance, holding a stick in his hand, supervising the captives as they line up.

The twelve‑year‑old boy, sun‑tanned dark, his arms full of muscle, stands there with a perfectly straight back.

Seeing Zhu Yong approach, he runs over.

"Father, today we captured another group, taken from the eastern mountains—about a hundred people, hiding in a cave, thinking they could escape."

Zhu Yong casts a glance inside the camp.

The newly arrived captives are being forced into wooden barrels, brushes scrubbing their bodies, with wails rising and falling.

"Are there any nobles?"

"Yes, three, hiding deepest; their clothing is finer than the peasants', and a search turned them up immediately."

"Have they been interrogated?"

"They have been interrogated, Uncle Wang Gui did it, saying they are lords from a small town east of Tuolai Duo; the king fled, they dare not surrender, fearing we will kill them."