Chapter 491: Deliberating the Attack on Africa

The 25th year of Hongwu, the eighth day of the fourth month.

At the telegraph line construction site outside the capital city of Yingtian, the workers were busy erecting poles and stringing wires.

From Yingtian to Beiping, over three thousand li, a wooden pole was set every fifty zhang; each pole top held an insulated porcelain bottle, on which two copper wires were mounted.

Lin Yuan rode his horse, inspecting the line segment by segment, a notebook in hand, recording each pole's position, height, and sturdiness.

"Lord Lin, the spacing of these poles is too wide; the wire will sag," a craftsman ran over.

Lin Yuan dismounted, glanced at that pole, then at the distance between the two neighboring poles.

"Take it down and reinstall it."

The craftsman answered, and with his men set to work.

Zhu Yong rode in from afar, followed by Wang Gui and a detachment of Imperial Troops.

"Your Highness," Lin Yuan greeted, clasping his fists in salute.

Zhu Yong waved his hand, dismounted, and surveyed the construction site.

The poles stood perfectly straight, the porcelain bottles polished to a shine, the copper wires mounted on them glinting a dark red under the sun.

"Lord Lin, when will the line from Xuzhou to Jinan be completed?"

Lin Yuan flipped through his notebook and said, "Answering Your Highness, Xuzhou to Jinan is three hundred li; two relay stations are needed in between. I estimate that even at best it will take three months."

"Three months, plus the two hundred li from Yingtian to Xuzhou, will allow the line to reach Jinan by year's end."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Zhu Yong nodded and asked, "And the four hundred li from Jinan to Beiping?"

Lin Yuan thought for a moment then said, "Your Highness, the stretch from Jinan to Beiping must cross the Yellow River; the river is wide and the current swift, making line erection difficult.

I plan to build two iron towers on the riverbanks, each twenty zhang tall, with the wire passing over the tops, safe from flood surges."

"Iron towers—can the Ministry of Works produce them?"

"Yes. Last year the Ministry of Works imported a batch of special steel from Europe; its strength is several times that of ordinary steel, sufficient for constructing iron towers."

Zhu Yong asked no further.

Lin Yuan handled the affairs; Zhu Yong felt at ease.

From the Spring Festival of the 25th year of Hongwu, when the Blueprint of the telegraph machine was received, to now three months later, Lin Yuan has led the craftsmen day and night, producing a prototype, establishing a test line from Yingtian to Suzhou, and now has begun laying the main line from Yingtian to Beiping.

At this speed, anyone else would not even dare to imagine it.

"Your Highness, I have another idea," Lin Yuan closed his notebook.

"Speak..."

"Your Highness, the telegraph machine is not only useful to the court; merchants can use it as well. After the test line from Yingtian to Suzhou was opened, several major merchants from Suzhou approached, wishing to lease the line for transmitting news and conducting business.

I think that leasing the telegraph line to merchants could bring substantial annual rent, enough to cover maintenance costs."

Zhu Yong thought, then nodded, "Very well, draft a regulation and later submit it to Crown Prince for approval."

"Understood."

Returning from the site, it was already afternoon.

Zhu Yong did not return to the residence, but went straight to the Eastern Palace.

Zhu Biao was seated in his study reviewing documents; when he saw Zhu Yong enter, he set his brush down.

"Second Brother, has the telegraph line matter been arranged?"

"All set. Lin Yuan says the line will reach Jinan by year's end."

Zhu Biao nodded, picked up a document from the desk, and handed it to him, "Take a look at this."

Zhu Yong took it and unfolded it.

The document, sent by Zhu Di from Europe, reported that the situation there had stabilized; the peoples of Portugal, Castile, France, and Germany were all keeping peace.

Those squid people who fled to Europe have largely been captured; those caught were executed on the spot, and those who escaped vanished into remote mountains, making no further trouble.

The document concluded with a few lines: "Second Prince, Europe is now stable. I discussed with Fourth Prince whether we should launch an attack on Africa?"

There are several nations in Africa—the Mali Empire, the Marin Dynasty, the Swahili City‑State Confederation—all formidable; if we intend to fight, we must prepare in advance."

Zhu Yong finished reading and placed the document on the table.

"Elder Brother, Fifth Brother says we should attack Africa."

Zhu Biao nodded, "I've seen it. What's your opinion?"

Zhu Yong sat in his chair, took the tea handed by the eunuch, sipped, and said, "We must fight, but there's no rush. Africa differs from Europe; Europe has many countries but a small area, making conquest easy to defend.

Africa's territory is vast, with few nations, yet each is sizable. The Mali Empire in West Africa spans an area larger than all of Europe, has a greater population, and its army claims a hundred thousand troops.

The Marin Dynasty lies in North Africa, bordering the Mediterranean, opposite Europe across the sea, and controls the Saharan trade routes.

The Swahili City‑State Confederation is in East Africa, on the Indian Ocean, trading with Arabia and India, and is rich beyond measure."

Zhu Biao listened, his brows slightly furrowing.

"Second Brother, how do you know so well?"

"The Brocade Guard investigated; a few years ago they sent agents to Africa to gather intelligence."

Zhu Biao nodded and asked no further.

"Elder Brother, the African matter isn't urgent. First secure Europe, develop America, build up Australia, manage the South Sea, then turn to Africa."

Zhu Biao thought for a moment and said, "You're right, but we should also let Xiong Ying and Qiong Jiong practice their skills."

Zhu Yong's eyes lit up, "What do you mean, Elder Brother?"

"For the African campaign, appoint Xiong Ying as Supreme Commander, Qiong Jiong as Vanguard, Shang Bing of the Shuang Er family, Ji Xi of the Gun Er family, and Gao Chi of the Di Er family, all to go."

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment, then smiled.

"Elder Brother, you're sending the third generation out for experience."

"Indeed, the few of us brothers have fought a lifetime, securing the realm, but we cannot let the next generation merely enjoy peace; they must also fight the wars that need fighting."

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "Elder brother is right."

Zhu Biao stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the courtyard outside.

"Second brother, you think that Xiong Ying kid can manage?"

"He can, Xiong Ying has studied military strategy with us since childhood, has trained in camps over the years, hasn't seen battle but his foundation is solid, and with Qiong Jiong around, nothing disastrous will happen."

Zhu Biao turned around and looked at his brother.

"That Qiong Jiong kid is indeed fierce in war; in those two years in Europe, how many enemies did he kill alone?"

"I don't know; he didn't count, and I didn't ask."

Zhu Biao smiled.

The two brothers stood side by side at the window.

In the courtyard outside, a few electric lights were still off, and the sun had not yet set.

"Second brother, keep an eye on the telegraph line; have it reach Jinan by the end of the year, Beiping next year, and Europe the year after."

Then, whatever happens over in Europe, we'll know here instantly."

Zhu Yong replied with a sound.

At dusk, Zhu Yong returned to Wu Wang Fu.

Huan Huan was walking in the courtyard, supporting Guanyin Nu, while Zhu Qiongwu rode his small tricycle around the courtyard.

"Father!" Seeing Zhu Yong come in, Zhu Qiongwu dropped the tricycle and ran over.

Zhu Yong bent down, lifted his son, and laughed, "Were you good today?"

"Good! Father, when will elder brother return?" Zhu Qiongwu clutched his father's neck.

Zhu Yong thought for a moment and said, "Soon, by the end of the year."

Zhu Qiongwu pursed his lips, "Elder brother said he'd take me hunting this year."

Zhu Yong smiled, patted his son's head, and sat down under the corridor.

Guanyin Nu came over and sat beside him.

"Prince, is the telegraph line matter arranged for today?"

"It's arranged; Lin Yuan said it can reach Jinan by the end of the year."

Guanyin Nu nodded and added, "A letter came from elder brother, saying Europe is stable, so you can rest assured."

Zhu Yong looked at his wife and suddenly said, "Guanyin Nu, elder brother said for the Africa campaign, let Xiong Ying be Supreme Commander, Qiong Jiong be Vanguard, and let the third generation practice their skills."

Guanyin Nu was stunned for a moment, then smiled.

"Prince, can you bear it?"

"I can, a male eagle must spread its wings and soar; that Qiong Jiong kid fought in Europe for two years, killed countless enemies, has been idle for over half a year since returning, and his hands have been itching."

Guanyin Nu nodded, saying nothing more.

Late at night, Zhu Yong sat in the study, a map of Africa spread before him.

The Mali Empire, the Marin Dynasty, and the Swahili City-State Alliance—three powers, three territories, each with its own characteristics.

The Mali Empire lies in West Africa, bordering the Sahara Desert, controlling the gold and salt trade, and is dripping with wealth.

The Marin Dynasty sits in North Africa, adjacent to the Mediterranean, facing Europe across the sea; its shipbuilding is good and its navy is strong.

The Swahili City-State Alliance is in East Africa, on the Indian Ocean, trading with Arabia and India; merchant ships constantly come and go, and commerce is thriving.

All three powers are hard to fight.

Yet even if they're hard, they must be fought.

Great Ming intends to unify the world; Africa is the last continent.

Guanyin Nu carried a bowl of soup in, and set it on the table.

"Prince, it's late night, have a bowl of soup."

Zhu Yong took it, drank a sip; it was chicken soup, very fresh.

"Prince, what do you plan to do about Africa?"

"No rush; first stabilize Europe, develop America well, build up Australia, manage the South Sea well, then move against Africa."

"When will that be?"

"One or two years, until the telegraph line reaches Beiping, until Xiong Ying and Qiong Jiong grow a bit more, until Shuang Er, Gang Er, and Di Er's sons undergo more training."

Guanyin Nu nodded, asking nothing further.

Outside the window, the moon rose, shining onto the courtyard.

The spring of the twenty‑fifth year of Hongwu was about to end.

Yet the telegraph line continued extending northward.