Chapter 672: Tributary Lands

The sky was high and the clouds thin.

The banners hung limp.

The Grand Music Master struck the yu, the Master of Tuning lowered the banner, and the music ceased.

The startled geese flapped their wings wildly, finally seizing an opportunity to take flight and escape.

Clang!

The spear butt struck the ground.

Drops of blood trickled from his fingertips, soaking into the damp gauze, staining a small pink patch.

Haruhan collapsed to the ground; such a towering man, yet his fall covered only a few feet.

Master Batu raised his arm and silently bore Haruhan away.

The Honglu Office announced the victor.

The Imperial Scribe lifted his brush, dipped it in ink, and circled the verdict.

"The thunder shook the eight corners, the might shone upon the four barbarians—today, Liang Sheng!"

A new year, a new spirit.

All court officials sighed with relief, stroking their beards and smiling.

The envoys of minor states remained unsatisfied, their eyes filled only with reverence for the Celestial Empire.

Only the Northern Court delegation sat quietly, as if that single spear had drained their very essence.

"Damn, that was awesome!"

Meng Meng Qiang leapt forward, his excitement overflowing; he raised his hand to clap Liang Qu on the back in celebration, then sensed something wrong, halted, and gestured to Zhang Zhang Shaofan, Hua Qingdu, and others to stop.

His broad, powerful chest was drenched in sweat, soaking his belt; each muscle twisted like iron cables, smooth and fluid, resembling a powerful, sinewy leopard—anyone who saw him would feel envy.

Yet.

No breath.

A grueling battle, not easy at all, yet he didn't pant, didn't even breathe?

Squeeze his arm.

Hard.

So hard.

Damn.

Dead stiff.

Meng Meng Qiang suddenly understood—he feigned joy, gave Zhang Zhang Shaofan and the others a glance and a subtle wave; they caught on, linked arms, gripped Fu Bo, and wrapped their arms around Liang Qu's waist, lifting him off the field.

They carried him beneath the banners.

The Tianyu Guards surrounded him, cheering loudly.

Pretending to offer comfort, they actually blocked all sight, preventing outsiders from approaching.

The envoys of various states peered for a long while, blocked by the human wall, and had to return to their seats.

"Quick, quick, give him water! Water! Any medicine? Any medicine!"

"No good, Boss, his mouth won't open!"

"Crush the pills into the water! Pour it in! Someone get a straw! Where's Li Eunuch?"

"Coming, coming!"

Meng Meng Qiang gave brief orders, drew his dagger, pried open Liang Qu's jaws, shoved in the straw, then took a gourd of medicine and poured it steadily inside.

"Commander, it's overflowing!"

"I know it's overflowing—want you to blow it in?"

"I'd love to, but Lord Liang might not appreciate it—shall we ask His Majesty for a pretty palace maid?"

"Useless! And you call yourselves the Emperor's personal guards!"

Lan Lan Jicai waved his hand, shoved aside the others, and pressed several acupoints on Liang Qu's chest, then rubbed his neck and squeezed hard—his throat muscles instantly relaxed.

The water in the straw flowed swiftly, until the entire gourd was emptied inside.

"Cough! Hah!"

Liang Qu gasped deeply, eyes wide, his chest heaving violently, like a broken bellows.

"Got it!"

Meng Meng Qiang tossed the straw aside.

Seeing Liang Qu had recovered somewhat, he crushed several more healing and qi-restoring pills, mixed them with water, fed them to him, then rushed off to arrange the next match.

He rested until the two-vs-two match began.

Drums, music, and weapons sounded again.

Liang Qu's thoughts resumed flowing, but his body remained weak; every muscle felt soaked in a full bottle of aged vinegar, utterly paralyzed.

"Lord Liang Liang Hengwei, how are you?" Li Eunuch, attentive as ever, noticed Liang Qu's eyes had regained some clarity and bowed to ask, "If you feel any discomfort, I'll fetch more medicine."

"It's fine, just let me rest a bit, rest a bit."

Liang Qu leaned back in his chair, gazing upward—the sun above had doubled in image.

Fighting Haruhan was no easy task; after using his secret technique, the fat boy's strength surpassed his own—he struck without a sound, leaving Liang Qu breathless, chest tight, hands and feet numb. He now realized others had always felt this way when sparring with him. And the "Divine Lord Seal"'s severed-jade technique was an extreme skill; the two combined drained his strength completely, leaving his muscles rigid.

Aside from that, he had few external wounds—only several cracks on both palms from the immense force.

"Can you help me sit up? I want to see the match."

Li Eunuch supported Liang Qu, adjusting his head.

"Lord Liang, how is it?"

"A bit more to the right—yes, yes, don't move, don't move."

Inside the arena, blades and spears clashed in a fierce, evenly matched duel.

Their opponents were Sunar and Baibuhua, the Northern Court's Black Panther and Mastiff, wielding double-edged curved swords and long swords.

The Tianyu Guards wielded two long spears; Li Li Bingzhong was one of them.

Their coordination was clearly far superior, using the Tianyu Battle Formation.

Yet even so, they held only a slight advantage.

Their opponents' coordination was no worse.

"When Haruhan entered the tiger hunt, perhaps the Northern Khan had already planned today's match—half a year or more of mutual training and coordination must have been routine."

Liang Qu speculated.

The envoys of minor states had watched Haruhan and Liang Qu's match first, full of anticipation.

But after watching so long, they felt something was missing, whispering among themselves.

After eating spicy food, even the blandest dish tastes dull.

The two-vs-two match lacked the simplicity and clarity of the one-vs-one; it lacked the wild, beast-like ferocity of Haruhan and Liang Qu's brute-force clash, instead focusing on technical skill.

Those with weaker cultivation couldn't even follow the movements.

Liang Qu hoped his teammates would win, but he was too weak to help; instead, he asked about Haruhan's true qi, pretending he'd just received an answer from the Great Black Heaven God, then turned to Lan Lan Jicai to ask a question that had long puzzled him.

"Master Lan, what is the relationship between Great Snow Mountain and our dynasty and the Northern Court? Why do they remain ambiguous toward both?"

He'd first heard of Great Snow Mountain from the old monk.

The memories Liang Qu stirred were tied to the so-called heretical monks and calamitous qi.

In his mind, it was a lawless no-man's-land, nominally under Great Shun, now entangled with the Northern Court, as if it were perfectly natural.

"Because Great Snow Mountain is nominally under Great Shun, yet unlike the Two Capitals and Eighteen Provinces, which are fully governed, taxed, and whose officials are appointed and replaced at will, it is a tributary region. Do you understand?"

"I understand roughly."

Ji means the bridle of a horse; mi means the lead rope of an ox.

"Tributary" means one must "ji"—control through military force and political pressure—and also "mi"—pacify with rewards.

Carrot and stick.

This policy seems useless—collecting no taxes yet giving rewards, demanding only acknowledgment of Great Shun's sole legitimacy—yet its significance is immense.

On one hand, it reduces open conflict and avoids the cost of war—this is precious wealth.

A rain of arrows costs ten thousand taels of gold.

On the other hand, it pacifies distant peoples through benevolence—this is the essence of tributary rule.

The degree of tributary control is never fixed.

When the dynasty is strong, it can gradually deepen its control—from shallow to profound.

Starting with exchanging envoys and trade, then slowly deepening cultural assimilation and influence, eventually sending officials to claim mid-level authority.

At its peak, it sends ministers to co-rule with local leaders, until full replacement is achieved.

This is called "replacing native chieftains with imperial officials."

Replace native rule with imperial administration.

He pondered briefly.

"So our tributary control over Great Snow Mountain is very low?"

"Correct," Lan Lan Jicai nodded. "Aside from acknowledging our rule, there is little contact—we can't even extend our hands into it. As for Great Snow Mountain and the Northern Court… do you know what the Northern people worship?"

"Eternal Heaven?"

"Precisely. Because the northern frontier is harsh and barren, its people revere heaven and nature far more than others—hence their worship of Eternal Heaven. But Great Snow Mountain's hardship is ten times worse!"

(End of Chapter)