Chapter 95: Marriage Alliance

Cui Chengxiu deliberately paused for effect. Seeing Wanyan Hong and the others all looking impatient, he finally said slowly, "Cui dares to presume to answer on behalf of the Sacred Son of Heaven.

If you all migrate south and enter the Pass, all corvée labor and taxes will be exactly the same as for the Han people, with no distinction whatsoever. Even studying for the imperial examinations will be the same."

Thinking back to Chongzhen's instructions, Cui Chengxiu continued, "If your noble clan does not wish to enter the Pass and migrate south, nor wishes to re-establish the Xianbei, then there is another proposal for Chief Wanyan to consider."

Wanyan Hong, upon hearing this, asked curiously, "What proposal? Please, Sir Cui, explain in detail."

From the moment they had met, Wanyan Hong had changed his form of address for Cui Chengxiu many times, each time more familiar than the last. Cui Chengxiu was as clear as a mirror in his heart, knowing that his trip had not been in vain—these barbarians were about to take the bait.

Clearing his throat, Cui Chengxiu spoke: "Since ancient times it has been said: Under the whole heaven, every spot is the sovereign's ground; to the borders of the land, every individual is the sovereign's subject.

If your noble clan does not wish to migrate south and enter the Pass to farm, nor wishes to move north and rebuild your former state, then you can only remain here."

Wanyan Hong said, "Indeed. There are always some who are unwilling to migrate south and enter the Pass. I wonder how the Great Ming Son of Heaven intends to deal with such tribes?"

To put it bluntly, this was the crux of today's discussion—it's fine for you, the Ming Emperor, to promise benefits to me, but I'm no fool. Once the Jianzhou barbarians are crushed, what do you plan to do with us Xibe people?

Found a kingdom? I'm not interested—too far, too cold.

Farming? I don't know how.

Cui Chengxiu said, "The Sacred Son of Heaven's intent is simple: to grant the Xibe people self-governance. After Liaodong is pacified, Chief Wanyan, together with the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Revenue, will jointly survey Liaodong, select a site, and build Xibe City.

At that time, all officials in the city, great and small, will be elected jointly by the Xibe people, and the Governor-General will be personally held by Chief Wanyan."

Wanyan Hong and the various Xibe tribal chieftains were overjoyed upon hearing this. This was the most ideal life. No need to farm, no need to travel too far—absolutely perfect.

But before anyone could speak, Cui Chengxiu continued, "Gentlemen, don't be too quick to rejoice. Although self-governance is granted to the Xibe, it is not without conditions."

Wanyan Hong, upon hearing this, cupped his hands in the Han fashion and said, "Please speak, Sir Cui." In his speech and manner, where was even a trace of his earlier crudeness?

Cui Chengxiu observed Wanyan Hong's saluting posture, which rather resembled a monkey wearing a cap, but he did not laugh at him—after all, wasn't this a good sign?

After a moment's deliberation, Cui Chengxiu continued, "The Sacred Son of Heaven's meaning, well, is simple. Self-governance is permitted, but independence is not.

The Great Ming Code shall be enforced here; all private feuds and such acts must be eradicated.

The Xibe script and language may be preserved, but all official documents and memorials, as well as the instruction in any academies established hereafter, must teach Han characters and speak the Han language.

The Xibe script and language may be preserved, but they may not appear in official memorials."

Before Wanyan Hong could say anything, the chieftain of the Hurha tribe said carelessly, "What use is there in keeping a bad script and language?

If we are permitted to be the same as the Han, with teachers to instruct our children in reading and writing, who would still want to learn those crooked, twisted, bird-scratch characters?

Never mind the children—how many of the people in this very room truly know it? If we keep such troublesome writing, wouldn't that contradict the 'equal treatment' you just spoke of? Right—equal treatment—wouldn't it then be unequal?"

The other tribal chieftains, hearing this, all chimed in agreement.

The chieftain of the Shumulu tribe also said, "Exactly. Why teach the children that messy stuff? Your Han characters are much better looking. No need to learn those messy things."

Cui Chengxiu cursed inwardly: A bunch of idiots! These fellows don't feel any pain selling off their ancestors' property—tossing aside the script and language left by their forefathers as easily as throwing something away.

But on second thought, wasn't this just fine? If everyone speaks Han and writes Han characters, in a hundred-odd years, who will still remember what the Xibe people were about?

Even if they remember, they'll probably have become exactly the same as the Han, right? When the history books are written, the Sacred Son of Heaven will certainly take the greatest credit, but couldn't I, Cui, also earn a place in the annals of history?

Growing happier the more he thought, Cui Chengxiu nevertheless did not immediately agree. He said, "On this matter, I cannot make the decision; I must still inquire as to the Sacred Son of Heaven's intent. However, I imagine the Sacred Son of Heaven would be pleased to see it come to pass."

Wanyan Hong, hearing this, said, "In that case, I must ask Sir Cui to put in a few good words for us before the Son of Heaven."

Cui Chengxiu stroked his beard and said with a smile, "That goes without saying. In the future, as fellow ministers serving in the same court, we should naturally support one another and jointly devote ourselves to the Sacred Son of Heaven."

Wanyan Hong also laughed and said, "Sir Cui speaks truly. It should be so, it should indeed be so."

Cui Chengxiu, seeing that the atmosphere was growing increasingly warm, struck while the iron was hot: "I have one more matter about which I must ask Chief Wanyan."

Wanyan Hong said, "Please speak, Sir Cui. Whatever I know, I shall speak without reserve."

Cui Chengxiu, however, smiled and said, "What I wish to ask—I ask on behalf of the Sacred Son of Heaven. May I ask how many children Chief Wanyan has?"

Wanyan Hong said, "Well, I have three children. The eldest son is already married, the second son has not yet been betrothed.

As for my youngest daughter, she is sixteen this year, a famous beauty for a hundred li around. Because I selfishly could not bear to part with her, she has not yet been promised to anyone."

Between the lines, he had left plenty of openings. If you, the Ming Emperor, want a marriage alliance, I have a son here who can marry; and if you wish to expand your harem, I also have a daughter ready.

The other tribal chieftains looked at each other in dismay. This dog-spawned Wanyan Hong, in order to curry favor with the Chongzhen Emperor, truly had not a shred of face left.

It seemed even Wanyan Yuzhuo, whom he had always kept hidden and sheltered, was about to be sold off by him to the Great Ming Son of Heaven.

Cui Chengxiu was also inwardly amused. Where had that shrewd man from earlier gone? The Wanyan Hong of now was more like a matchmaker hawking his own son and daughter.

Though he found it inwardly laughable, Cui Chengxiu dared not forget the Chongzhen Emperor's instructions, so he continued, "Then I must congratulate Chief Wanyan. To have both son and daughter is true fortune."

Wanyan Hong grinned and said, "Thank you for your auspicious words, Sir Cui. But may I ask what Sir Cui was just referring to?"

Cui Chengxiu smiled and said, "It is actually quite close to what Chief Wanyan was thinking.

Since the time of the Great Ancestor, the August Emperor, our Great Ming has never practiced marriage alliances with foreign powers. Therefore, if your son wishes to marry a princess, he must first be entered into the Han registers.

Moreover, the Son of Heaven is now in his youth and has no princesses yet. The princesses of the Son of Heaven's generation have all already married.

Thus, your son, one might say, has little opportunity."

Wanyan Hong, hearing this, was disappointed yet still harbored a thread of hope: "Could it be my daughter?"

Cui Chengxiu smiled and said, "Indeed, it is your daughter. The reigning Son of Heaven is in the prime of youth and has long heard that your daughter is a figure like a heavenly immortal, fit to enter the palace and attend upon the Son of Heaven."

Recommending a history book by a good buddy in the author's group: "Warring States: Zhao as King," which once crushed The Tyrant on the data charts. Of course, now The Tyrant has him pinned to the ground and is grinding him into the dirt.

(End of Chapter)