Chapter 467: Reunion at Yingtian

The morning in Constantinople arrived later than that in Yingtian Prefecture.

The mist over the Marmara Sea had not yet cleared; the dome of Hagia Sophia hovered in the fog like a sleeping giant.

Zhu Yong stood on the steps before the cathedral, hands behind his back, gazing at the millennial city.

The Great Ming banner on the city wall had been changed for three days.

The red field with a golden dragon rustled in the morning breeze.

From Portugal to Moscow, from Moscow to Crimea, from Crimea to Constantinople—two years, and the European continent was finally finished.

"Father."

The voice of Zhu QiongJiong came from behind.

Zhu Yong turned and looked at his son.

The fourteen‑year‑old boy wore a half‑worn armor, a short sword at his waist, and a Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder.

This kid has killed many people these two years.

He followed him from Portugal to Castile, from Castile to France, from France to Germany, from Germany to Poland, from Poland to Moscow, from Moscow to Crimea, and finally to Constantinople.

"Everything packed?" Zhu Yong asked.

"All packed—just those few clothes and that Ottoman Marshal flag. Father, are we really going back?" Zhu QiongJiong grinned.

"Hmm, back..." Zhu Yong turned and stared at the eastern horizon.

There lay the direction of Yingtian Prefecture, the direction of home.

Guanyin Nu, Huanhuan, Qiong Wu, and father, mother, elder brother, those nephews and nieces.

Two years without seeing them.

"Prince, envoys from various nations are waiting below," Wang Gui said as he came up from the steps.

"Let them come up."

In a short while, twenty‑something European envoys in assorted dress climbed the steps.

There were ones from Venice, Genoa, Milan, Naples, the Papal State, and a few minor German princes.

They approached Zhu Yong, knelt together, and spoke in Latin.

"Prince, they say they are willing to submit to Great Ming, offering tribute yearly and proclaiming loyalty each year," Wang Gui translated.

Zhu Yong looked at the kneeling European envoys and fell silent for a moment.

"Tell them submission is fine, tribute is not required. Great Ming's rule: land belongs to the court, peasants farm and pay taxes, there are no nobles, no pope."

Wang Gui rendered it.

The envoys' expressions changed; a few trembled on the verge of speaking, then swallowed their words.

"The churches will be confiscated and turned into schools; priests who wish to return to lay life will be given land, those who refuse will be sent to Australia. Confucian scholars and Daoist priests have already arrived and are opening classes across the land.

Europeans have believed in God for centuries, their minds muddled; they must read the classic sage texts."

The envoys looked at each other, none daring to speak.

"Those who wish to submit, go back and tell your city lords, dukes, governors to follow Great Ming's rules; those who refuse... once the great army arrives, it will no longer be a matter of submission," Zhu Yong paused, his gaze sweeping over the kneeling men.

The envoys kept kowtowing, uttering words of thanks.

"Go down!"

After the envoys withdrew, Zhu Yong turned and looked at Wang Gui.

"Over here in Europe, someone must oversee: Fifth Brother stays in Constantinople, watching the Balkans and Asia Minor; elder brother Mu Ying comes from the South Sea, watching Italy and the Papal State.

Fourth Brother comes from Bordeaux, watching France and England; Third Brother is in Australia, watching that side. General Chang Yuchun is in America, watching the Incas and the Maya."

Wang Gui noted each point.

Zhu Yong then looked at Li Wenzhong.

"Cousin, please return with me; Imperial Father misses you."

Li Wenzhong was startled for a moment, then laughed, "Prince, I also miss His Majesty."

"Where is General Feng?" Zhu Yong asked, looking at Feng Sheng.

The veteran general clasped his fists and said, "Prince, I will stay in Europe to keep an eye on these Europeans for you."

Zhu Yong nodded and patted Feng Sheng's shoulder.

"General Feng, thank you for your effort."

"Prince, you are too kind. When I fought the world alongside His Majesty, you had not yet been born," Feng Sheng grinned.

Zhu Yong also smiled.

In the evening, Zhu Yong set a banquet on the square before Hagia Sophia.

The fare was simple: roasted lamb, flatbread, and wine, all sourced locally.

After three rounds of wine, Zhu Di set down his cup and looked at Zhu Yong.

"Second Prince, are you really going back?"

"Hmm, I've been out for two years; it's time to return," Zhu Yong lifted his cup and took a sip.

Zhu Di was silent for a moment, then softly said, "Second Prince, rest assured, I am here in Europe."

Zhu Yong nodded and patted his brother's shoulder.

"Fifth Brother, Europe has just been taken; the people have not fully settled. Those nobles, bishops, princes may outwardly submit but secretly stir trouble.

Watch closely; if anyone is dishonest, strike them."

Zhu Di nodded, "Second Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong then looked at Mu Ying.

"Elder brother Mu, the Papal State in Italy is not yet fully cleared; keep an eye on it."

Mu Ying clasped his fists and said, "Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong looked again at Zhu Gang.

"Fourth Brother, keep an eye on France and England."

Zhu Gang grinned, "Second Prince, rest assured; if those English dare cause trouble, I'll beat them into the sea."

Zhu Yong nodded and glanced at Zhu Shuang.

"Third Brother, keep an eye on Australia."

Zhu Shuang clasped his fists and said, "Second Prince, rest assured."

The brothers, each assigned to different places, each guarded their own region.

When the banquet ended, it was already Hai Hour.

Zhu Yong stood on the steps before Saint Sophia Cathedral, gazing at the moon in the sky.

The moon was full and bright, shining on this thousand‑year‑old ancient city.

"Father, are you homesick?" Zhu Qiongjiong came up from behind.

Zhu Yong gave his son a glance.

"I miss it—do you miss it?"

"I miss Mom's cooking, I miss Sister Huanhuan, I miss that boy Qiongwu." Zhu Qiongjiong squatted on the steps, leaning his Wolf Fang Club against the side.

A faint smile tugged at Zhu Yong's mouth.

"Soon—just one more month and we'll be home."

The next morning, at Constantinople Port.

The dock was packed with people.

Zhu Di, Mu Ying, Zhu Gang, Zhu Shuang, Feng Sheng, Li Wenzhong, and the European envoys who had submitted.

"Second Prince, take care on the road," Zhu Di said, bowing his fist.

Zhu Yong nodded and patted his younger brother's shoulder.

"Fifth Brother, Europe is now yours."

"Second Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong turned his gaze to Mu Ying.

"Brother Mu, the Italy front is yours."

Mu Ying clasped his fists and said, "Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong looked again at Zhu Gang.

"Fourth Brother, France and England are now yours."

Zhu Gang grinned, "Second Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong looked again at Zhu Shuang.

"Third Brother, Australia is now yours."

Zhu Shuang clasped his fists and said, "Second Prince, rest assured."

Zhu Yong finally looked at Feng Sheng and Li Wenzhong.

"General Feng, cousin, Europe—please take extra care."

Feng Sheng and Li Wenzhong both bowed their fists.

Zhu Yong turned around, strode onto the gangplank.

Zhu Qiongjiong followed, shouldering his Wolf Fang Club, his back perfectly straight.

The roar of the steam engine grew louder as the fleet slowly set off, leaving the port for the open sea.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, watching the silhouettes on the shore recede.

Zhu Di was still waving, Mu Ying stood with his arms crossed, and Feng Sheng stood on the dock, his back perfectly straight.

The fleet passed out of the Marmara Sea into the Aegean Sea.

The sea surface glittered, and occasionally a few seagulls flew by.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, looking toward the horizon.

"Father, will we still be fighting when we get back?" Zhu Qiongjiong crawled out of the cabin.

Zhu Yong gave his son a glance.

"No more fighting; we'll rest when we return."

Zhu Qiongjiong nodded, leaned his Wolf Fang Club against the rail, and stared at the distant sea.

"Father, you mentioned that boy Qiongwu—what does he look like now?"

"Just like you when you were little, a tiger‑headed, spirited kid."

Zhu Qiongjiong grinned.

The fleet sailed for three days before entering the Mediterranean Sea.

The color of the sea water shifted from deep blue to light blue, then from light blue to ink‑green.

The wind and waves grew fierce; several small boats were tossed violently, and the soldiers vomited profusely.

Zhu Yong stood at the bow, his expression unchanged.