When Zhu Zhanjun returned to the central command tent, whistling and taking his time, everyone's eyes turned toward him in unison.
"Where is he?"
Zhu Di's voice revealed no hint of his mood.
"Oh, Yesen?"
Zhu Zhanjun spread his hands, looking utterly innocent.
"That old bastard wouldn't behave. He tried to throw himself off a cliff, and I figured we couldn't just let him die like that, so I sent my men to pull him back."
"But the rope wasn't sturdy enough. It snapped with a 'pop.'"
"Ah, what a pity. I was hoping to get a little more out of him."
He delivered all this in an offhand manner, but was there anyone present who was a fool?
The rope snapped?
As if anyone would believe that!
He had clearly killed him on purpose to silence him—no, to erase the evidence!
Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu and Prince Zhao Zhu Gaosui not only failed to relax at his words, but felt a chill shoot up from the soles of their feet and straight to their scalps.
With the only witness dead, they were indeed safe for the time being.
But just how terrifying were the schemes and methods of a nephew who could kill the Oirat grand preceptor with such a "mishap" and without batting an eye?
They had no doubt that if they had fallen into Zhu Zhanjun's hands today, their fate would have been a hundred times worse than Yesen's!
"Zhanjun!"
Zhu Zhanji, standing behind the Crown Prince, finally couldn't hold back.
He looked at his unfamiliar second younger brother, his brows drawing tightly together.
"Yesen was an enemy chieftain. This is a matter of great importance. Even if he had to be dealt with, Father should have decided the matter after a joint hearing with the Three Judicial Offices. How could you be so... so reckless?"
"Elder Brother, you're accusing me unfairly."
Zhu Zhanjun looked aggrieved.
"I didn't deal with him. He just couldn't accept things and jumped off the cliff himself."
"I couldn't stop him, even when I tried."
"You!"
Zhu Zhanji was so incensed by his shameless act that he couldn't get another word out.
He realized that an impassable chasm seemed to lie between him and this second younger brother of his.
The principles of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and law that he believed in seemed so laughable and feeble in the face of his brother's overwhelming strength and utter disregard for convention.
"Enough."
Zhu Di spoke up, cutting off the brothers' quarrel.
He gave Zhu Zhanjun a long look, but felt more satisfied than ever.
Ruthless enough!
Decisive enough!
That was what a son of the Old Zhu family should be!
As for Yesen's death, Zhu Di couldn't care less.
He was nothing but a prisoner. Dead was dead.
What mattered was that, with this, Zhu Zhanjun had thoroughly cowed those two disobedient sons of his.
"Zhu Gaoxu. Zhu Gaosui."
Zhu Di turned his gaze toward his two sons kneeling on the ground, his voice suddenly turning cold.
"Yesen may be dead, but the two of you failed to keep your troops in check, allowing military intelligence to leak and nearly causing a catastrophe. That is an indisputable fact!"
"I hereby strip you of all military posts and order you to return to the capital at once. You will be confined to your princely residences, and without my decree, you are not to set foot outside them!"
It was an undeniably severe punishment.
Stripped of their military posts and confined to their residences, the two of them had effectively lost all political prospects.
"Father..."
Zhu Gaoxu still wanted to argue.
"Get out!"
Zhu Di's furious roar cut off every word he might have said.
Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui turned deathly pale. Knowing the tide had turned against them, they could only leave the tent in a daze, under the contemptuous gazes of the soldiers.
After dealing with his two sons, Zhu Di seemed to feel much better.
He looked at Zhu Zhanjun and asked,
"Zhanjun, where are the Oirat remnants now?"
Zhu Zhanjun immediately opened the system map.
In the northwest of the map, across a vast expanse of snowfield, a red dot representing Yesen's son, Bayan, was fleeing west with several thousand smaller red dots trailing behind him.
[Target: Bayan. Status: Fleeing. Destination: Border of the Timurid Empire.]
"They're heading west, Grandpa. Looks like they're planning to seek reinforcements from the Timurid Empire."
Zhu Zhanjun pointed at the map as he spoke.
"Timur?"
Zhu Di's brow furrowed slightly.
He had always been wary of this vast empire entrenched in the Western Regions.
"We can't let them get away!"
Zhu Di made his decision at once.
"If you pull up the weeds, you have to dig out the roots!"
"Understood, Grandpa."
Zhu Zhanjun grinned, baring a row of white teeth.
"Just watch, Grandpa."
"I'll take some men and deliver them a little 'package.' I guarantee... the mission will be accomplished!"
Without waiting for Zhu Di to speak again, he turned and strode out of the tent.
"Great Snow Dragon Riders! Form up!"
His booming voice rang out across the camp.
The three thousand cavalrymen had just finished a major battle and hadn't even had time to rest, but not one of them complained. They quickly formed a grim, imposing formation, waiting for their king.
On the snowfield several hundred li away.
Bayan and the little more than three thousand Oirat remnants still with him were struggling onward.
Every man was dressed in rags and wore a numb expression, like a band of walking corpses.
The massacre at Gourd Pass had utterly crushed their spirits.
That black army of demons had become a nightmare they would never be able to erase from their minds.
"Father, rest assured. I'll avenge you!"
Bayan glanced back to the east, his eyes filled with bone-deep hatred.
He tightened his hold on the golden seal in his arms—the symbol of the Great Khan of the Oirats' power—gritted his teeth, and continued west.
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