Chapter 94: The Xibe People

The moment Cui Chengxiu said this, not only Wanyan Hong — even the other tribal chieftains in the room felt their hearts stir fiercely.

The Liao emperor hated that he could not be born Chinese generation after generation — were these Xibe people any different?

No matter how utterly they scorned Han military strength, when faced with the dazzling, enchanting culture of the Han, every kingdom and every people on China's periphery could not help but feel a deep, bone-deep inferiority.

When this inferiority complex developed to its extreme, it produced three patterns.

One was like the Japanese dwarfs: frenzied worship.

During the great Tokyo firebombing, a dwarf who owned Su Dongpo's authentic calligraphy "Cold Food Observance in Huangzhou" had his house hit by shells and catch fire — the man abandoned everything else, charged into the sea of flames, and rescued the "Cold Food Observance in Huangzhou."

From top to bottom, the dwarfs heaped praise on him, holding that "even if half of Japan were bombed to rubble, so long as 'Cold Food Observance in Huangzhou' survived, it was worth it."

Another was like the Bangzi: their deep inferiority made them pathological enough to fantasize that everything good in the world originally belonged to their house.

And in the third year of Tianqi of the Great Ming, Gwanghaegun Yi Hon — the fifteenth ruler of Joseon, who wanted to promote and develop Joseon's own script and language and whose stance wavered between the Great Ming and the Jianzhou barbarians — was deposed by the Joseon court on the charge of "showing disrespect to the Celestial Court above and violating the way of a subject."

After his eyes were burned blind, he was exiled to Gyodong on Ganghwa Island, then in the fourteenth year of Chongzhen was re-exiled to Jeju Island, and in the seventh month of the fourteenth year of Chongzhen died on Jeju Island.

As for the last kind, it was the pathological type like the Jianzhou barbarians: destroy, destroy everything stronger than themselves, then stuff the void full of heaps of garbage.

The final result goes without saying — under the glorious guiding principle of "better to give to foreign friends than to one's own slaves," even lobster soldiers could bully them.

These several different attitudes toward the five-thousand-year civilization of Huaxia in fact perfectly reflect the suffocating pressure that neighboring states and peoples felt when facing Huaxia civilization. Now that there was a chance to become part of it, who would not feel their heart stir?

Cui Chengxiu, unhurried, threw more fuel on the fire: "Not only that — when Liaodong is recovered in the days to come, salt, iron, liquor, and tea will all be just as they are within the Pass: purchased directly against a permit.

For all types of permits, aside from the prohibition on private resale, everything else will be the same as for Han people — you won't even need border markets."

The moment this condition was laid out, its impact was no less than that of a mushroom bomb in later ages. After all, for nomadic tribes, salt, iron, liquor, and tea were practically necessities of life.

Every previous dynasty, without exception, had strictly controlled them — even the Great Ming regulated the outflow of salt and iron to nomadic peoples. Otherwise, why would Chongzhen have sent men to smuggle poisoned salt to the steppe and Liaodong?

Yet as soon as these words were spoken, while the other tribal chieftains were still wild with joy, Wanyan Hong rapidly cooled down.

His slightly narrowed eyes made even a ruthless man like Cui Chengxiu feel a wave of pressure.

Before Cui Chengxiu could turn embarrassment into anger, Wanyan Hong said: "My Han friend, the Eternal Blue Sky teaches us that behind a delicious taste very often lies a trap.

The Han Emperor has offered terms this good — I do not believe it is merely for some reason like being descendants of Chunwei."

We Xibe people are honest, but we are not fools. Speak plainly — what does your Emperor want us to give in return?"

Once Wanyan Hong finished, the atmosphere chilled for a moment, the earlier fervor gone. The other tribal chieftains stopped discussing the benefits they were about to receive and turned their gazes one by one toward Cui Chengxiu.

Cui Chengxiu now felt somewhat awkward. Long accustomed to the Great Ming scholar-official's way of "you scratch my back, I scratch yours, everyone's happy," he was suddenly confronted by Wanyan Hong's style of coming straight to the point and refusing to play by the rules.

Inwardly he cursed without pause — these barbarians truly had no understanding of proper refinement; such blunt directness was far too lacking in decorum.

After all, who among men who had risen to the rank of Minister was mediocre? His mind racing, Cui Chengxiu smiled and said: "Indeed.

The Sage Son of Heaven has also said that there is no free lunch under heaven — otherwise it becomes a situation of 'a pint of rice earns gratitude, a bushel earns enmity,' just like the story of the Jianzhou barbarians."

That being the case, I, Cui, will not belabor the point and will simply lay it all out for Chief Wanyan."

The Sage Son of Heaven not only intends for the Xibe people to enjoy the Son of Heaven's grace just as the Han do — even if you wish to establish your own state and rebuild the Xianbei nation, the Sage Son of Heaven supports it.

If Chief Wanyan wishes to purchase weapons and armor, however much you want, my Great Ming will sell however much."

Hearing this, Wanyan Hong grew ever more certain that this Ming Emperor's designs were enormous. His expression gradually hardened, and in a cold voice he said: "Then what, may I ask, does the Great Ming Emperor want to obtain from my Xibe people?"

Cui Chengxiu, however, smiled. "Why is Chief Wanyan in such a hurry?" He swept his gaze across the people in the room, then continued: "The benefits I just spoke of — what your people must give in return is precisely what I, Cui, am about to say next."

Seeing that the many tribal chieftains in the room looked interested, Wanyan Hong said bluntly: "I am all ears."

Cui Chengxiu unhurriedly began: "First, the Sage Son of Heaven requires each of your noble tribes to send three thousand able-bodied men, from which the best five hundred shall be selected to enter the Embroidered Uniform Guard and serve as the Son of Heaven's bodyguards.

The remaining number shall be divided into two Chiliarch garrisons — one under the command of Grand General Mao Wenlong at Jiangdong, and one under the command of the Governor-General of Ji-Liao at Shanhai Pass."

The pay, provisions, and fodder for these three thousand men shall all be borne by your noble tribes. Should any be killed in battle, in addition to the Great Ming's compensation, each tribe shall also provide its own compensation and must replenish the lost troop quota."

Wanyan Hong said: "That is simple. If it is only that, I can agree to it on behalf of the tribes right now. I fear the Great Ming Son of Heaven's demands do not stop here?"

Cui Chengxiu said: "Indeed. Second, if your noble people intend to rebuild the former Xianbei state, it must be on the land north of Sakhalin Island."

Wanyan Hong gave a cold laugh.

"Heh heh, you, Sir Cui, speak prettily enough.

That wretched place is even colder than Liaodong — go found a state there, and I fear we'd freeze to death first, wouldn't we? Besides, although my Xibe people are descended from the Xianbei, we have never thought of rebuilding any former state.

I will ask only one thing: if my tribe intends to migrate south and enter the Pass, what then?"

Hearing this, Cui Chengxiu groaned inwardly.

Before he set out, Chongzhen had given him many instructions and prepared him for all manner of situations — the one thing they had never anticipated was that these barbarians would not want to rebuild their former state and call themselves kings facing south, but instead would be single-mindedly set on entering the Pass to enjoy that world of pleasure and splendor.

These damned barbarians — did they not understand the advantages of being the ruler of a state? Once they migrated south, given the Chongzhen Emperor's temperament, could you barbarians possibly come out ahead?

Inwardly Cui Chengxiu cursed these Xibe barbarians for their lack of ambition, even as his mind raced furiously.

After turning over Chongzhen's nature and the possible ways of handling this, he said coolly: "I, Cui, am of no great talent, yet I hold the undeserved post of Minister of the Ministry of War of the Great Ming.

Now I shall be so bold as to answer on the Sage Son of Heaven's behalf: if you gentlemen intend to migrate south and enter the Pass…"

Is this cliffhanger soul-stealing or not?

(End of chapter)