Chapter 524: Campaign to the South

At dusk, the army set up camp on the North Bank of the Zambezi River.

Tents stretched for several miles, campfires dotted here and there, looking like a field of stars in the twilight.

Zhu Xiongying stood by the river, looking at the land on the South Bank.

Across the river lay the interior of southern Africa, the golden plateau, the diamond mines, and the coastline of the Indian Ocean.

"Brother, shall we cross the river tomorrow?" Zhu Qiong Jiong stepped forward, the Wolf Fang Club slung over his shoulder.

"Yes, we'll cross tomorrow; after the Zambezi River, we head south all the way to the Cape of Good Hope."

At first light the next day, before sunrise, the army began to cross the river.

The Zambezi River was not wide, but the current ran fast; the engineering battalion erected a pontoon bridge, and squads of soldiers walked across it to the opposite bank.

"Brother, what other forces remain in southern Africa?" Zhu Qiong Jiong walked beside him.

"Not many; just small tribes. We can take each town one by one."

Zhu Xiongying pointed toward the southern horizon and continued: "The southernmost point is the Cape of Good Hope, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Indian Ocean. Beyond the Cape, east lies the South Sea, north lies Arabia, and west lies America."

Zhu Qiong Jiong's eyes lit up, and he slung the Wolf Fang Club onto his shoulder.

The army pushed south for half a month, storming city after city and subjugating tribe after tribe.

Those small tribes could not withstand the Longxiang Army's onslaught; they surrendered as soon as the artillery roared.

After half a month's march, a great city appeared ahead.

"Brother, ahead lies the capital of the Monomotapa Kingdom," Zhu Gaochi rode up, holding a sea chart.

The Monomotapa Kingdom, the strongest power in southern Africa, controlled a vast region from the Zambezi River to the Limpopo River, its gold output accounting for more than half of Africa's total.

The city walls were packed with soldiers, the artillery was already in place, its muzzles blackened and pointing outward.

The defending force numbered about ten to twenty thousand, with many cavalry and even more infantry.

"Form the ranks..."

Fifty thousand troops began to form ranks.

"Fire the guns..."

Five hundred mortars fired simultaneously.

Shells slammed into the walls; the first barrage blew a huge breach in the wall.

Zhu Qiong Jiong rode ahead, charging into the city, swinging the Wolf Fang Club side to side.

Several Monomotapa soldiers were hurled outward, smashing into the wall and splintering their brains.

Behind him, the fifty thousand troops followed his path into the city, firing Flintlock Guns in unison and hacking with sabers.

The king of the Monomotapa Kingdom fled quickly, taking a few hundred Imperial Troops southward.

Zhu Xiongying did not pursue; he halted his horse and looked at the captives kneeling on the ground.

"Send word: round up the captives, take over the city defenses; Monomotapa is taken, the greatest power in southern Africa has been destroyed."

At dusk, Zhu Xiongying stood on the steps of the Monomotapa palace, gazing at the southern horizon.

That direction pointed toward the Cape of Good Hope, a sea region the Great Ming Navy had never reached.

"Brother, where shall we strike next?" Zhu Qiong Jiong came forward.

"Southward, all the way to the Cape of Good Hope."

Zhu Qiong Jiong grinned, leaning the Wolf Fang Club against the wall.

The 27th year of Hongwu, early September.

The army continued its southward push. After the Monomotapa Kingdom fell, no force in southern Africa could stand against them.

Along the way, small tribes surrendered at sight of the Longxiang Army's War Flag, without the need to fire a single cannon.

After another half month, a vast desert stretched ahead. The desert was immense, endless to the eye, its dunes rolling in endless waves.

"Brother, ahead lies the Kalahari Desert," Zhu Gaochi rode up.

Zhu Xiongying halted his horse, squinting as he watched for a while.

The desert was hard to traverse, but there was no way around it.

Beyond the desert lay fertile Grassland, and further south the Cape of Good Hope.

"Send word: march south along the desert's edge, do not cross the desert."

The army advanced south along the edge of the Kalahari Desert; the route was easier than the desert itself, at least suitable for wagons.

After ten days, the desert vanished, replaced by a fertile Grassland.

The grass grew tall, and when the wind blew it rolled like golden waves.

In the distance, a few antelopes grazed, occasionally lifting their heads to glance this way before lowering them again to continue feeding.

"Brother, how far is it still to the Cape of Good Hope?" Zhu Qiong Jiong rode up.

"Almost there, five more days..."

Five days later, the Cape of Good Hope.

Zhu Xiongying halted his horse, staring at the vast ocean ahead.

The sea shimmered blue in the sunlight, waves roiling, endless to the eye.

The Atlantic Ocean and the Indian Ocean met here, and the European and Asian shipping lanes turned at this point.

"Brother, we've reached the Cape of Good Hope," Zhu Qiong Jiong stood beside him.

Zhu Xiongying nodded, swung off his horse, strode to the shore, and cupped a handful of water.

The water was cold and salty.

He turned, looking at the fifty thousand troops behind him.

Iron armor rose like a forest, Flintlock Guns rattled upward toward the sky, and War Flags fluttered in the morning breeze.

"Send word: erect a monument on the shore, inscribed 'Great Ming State-Defending King, Imperial Grandson Zhu Xiongying led his army here, Hongwu 27th year, September'."

The engineering battalion began erecting the monument.

Zhu Xiongying stood by the sea, gazing at the northern horizon. That was the direction of Yingtian Prefecture, the direction of home.

"Brother, the Africa campaign is over," Zhu Qiongjiong walked up.

"It's over."

"When are we going home?"

Zhu Xiongying thought for a moment, then said, "Soon. Once the fleet arrives, we'll return."

"When will the fleet arrive?"

"Half a month..."

Zhu Qiongjiong nodded and leaned the Wolf Fang Club against the stone monument.

The African campaign lasted a full six months, from North Africa to West Africa, from West Africa to Central Africa, from Central Africa to South Africa, covering tens of thousands of miles.

The Malin Dynasty, the Mali Empire, the Songhai Kingdom, the Congo Kingdom, the Luba Kingdom, the Lunda Kingdom, the Monomotapa Kingdom—each nation in turn was fought, each city in turn was captured.

Now, it is finally over.

Great Ming has planted flags across this continent, larger than Europe.

Half a month later, the fleet anchored off the Cape of Good Hope.

Three hundred diesel-powered ships formed a single column; their smokestacks belched black smoke, and the roar of the diesel engines made the sea waves tremble.

Zhu Xiongying stood on the bow of the "Longxing" and gazed at the northern horizon.

"Weigh anchor..."

The Command was relayed, and the three hundred diesel ships raised anchor simultaneously, the fleet slowly sailing away from the Cape of Good Hope, heading north along Africa's western coast.

The sea's color shifted from light blue to deep blue, then from deep blue to ink green.

The wind and waves grew fierce; a few small boats were tossed violently, but Zhu Xiongying stood on the bow, unmoving.

"Brother, will we still be fighting when we return?" Zhu Qiongjiong emerged from the cabin.

"No more fighting, we'll rest when we get back."

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

After two months, the fleet finally returned to Great Ming.

At Yingtian Prefecture's dock, crowds stretched as far as the eye could see.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood at the highest point of the dock, dressed in dark red formal robes, hands clasped behind his back.

Empress Ma stood beside him, wearing plain palace attire, her eyes rimmed with red.

Zhu Biao and Zhu Yong stood side by side nearby, one in moon‑white formal robes, the other in a black python robe with gold threads.

Chang Wan stood at the back with the children; Xiong Ying's mother had red‑rimmed eyes, but did not cry.

The fleet slowly came to dock.

Zhu Xiongying stepped down from the gangplank and knelt before Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Grandfather, the grandson has returned."

Zhu Yuanzhang bent down, helped him up, surveyed him from head to toe, and patted his shoulder.

"Good, good, Xiong Ying, you have grown up."

Empress Ma walked over, took Xiong Ying's hand, examined him from head to toe, and said with tears and laughter, "You've become thin, dark, and have endured hardship abroad."

Xiong Ying laughed, "Grandmother, the grandson is fine, eating well and sleeping well."

Zhu Biao walked over, looked at his son, his eyes slightly red but he did not cry, merely patted his shoulder and said softly, "It's good that you're back."

Zhu Yong walked over, surveyed his nephew from head to toe, a faint smile curling his lips.

"Xiong Ying, how did the fighting go over in Africa?"

"Second Uncle, it's over. The Malin Dynasty, the Mali Empire, the Songhai Kingdom, the Congo Kingdom, the Luba Kingdom, the Lunda Kingdom, the Monomotapa Kingdom have all been taken."

Zhu Yong nodded and smiled, "Well done."

Zhu Qiongjiong leapt from the ship, shouldered the Wolf Fang Club, walked to his mother, and grinned.

Guanyin Nu looked at her thin, dark son, and her eyes instantly reddened.

"Mother, I'm back."

"Thin, dark, you have endured hardship abroad."

"Not hard, Mother, I've killed many enemies."

Guanyin Nu shook her head and said nothing more.

Zhu Qiongwu ran over, grabbed his brother's waist with one hand, and tilted his head upward.

"Brother, you're back. Did you bring me any gifts?"

Zhu Qiongjiong pulled a piece of gold from his chest and slipped it into his younger brother's hand.

Zhu Qiongwu's eyes lit up as he turned the gold over and over in his hands.

"This is gold..."

"Hmm, African gold, keep it to play with."

Zhu Yuanzhang turned around and strode toward the city.

"Let's go, home."

Empress Ma took Xiong Ying's and Zhu Qiongjiong's hands, following behind.

Zhu Biao and Zhu Yong walked side by side at the rear.

"Second younger brother, Xiong Ying's battle is over," Zhu Biao said softly.

"It's over."

"Africa now belongs to Great Ming."

"Hmm, Africa belongs to Great Ming."

Zhu Yong looked at his older brother, and suddenly smiled.

"Brother, where shall we go next?"

Zhu Biao also smiled.

"Antarctica."

Zhu Yong was stunned for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter.

The two brothers walked side by side along the palace path, the setting sun stretching their shadows long.

In the distance, the roof of Fengtian Hall glittered in the afterglow.

The winter of the twenty‑seventh year of Hongwu was about to end.