Chapter 1086: The Uyghur Envoy

The bandits retreated, taking with them the threat of death, leaving behind a scene of devastation. Amid the wagon formation, bodies lay strewn about, a sight that was shocking to behold. Perhaps due to the bitter cold, the splattered blood seemed to have already congealed—dark, heavy, and oppressive.

Of the nearly three hundred members of the embassy, fewer than half survived. Among the servants and attendants, the casualties were even heavier than among the guarding soldiers. Killing and death seemed to be commonplace occurrences, and there was little joy of having survived the ordeal. The living set about cleaning up on their own, while still maintaining their vigilance.

Amid the groans of the severely wounded, the old man who had been commanding from his position throughout finally let out a sigh of relief. He looked around—though he was pained by the heavy casualties and enormous losses, at least their lives had been spared.

"Governor, are you unharmed?" An attendant, bedraggled and stained with blood, approached and supported the old man, whose body was stiff, asking with concern.

"This old man is fine. Go see to the guards and escorts—take stock of the casualties and losses, and do your best to treat the wounded!" The old man instructed, then asked: "How are the Uyghurs faring?"

"Their casualties are considerable as well!" The attendant replied, then pointed eastward at the approaching Han cavalry, saying: "Thankfully the Great Han's reinforcements have arrived—otherwise, we would surely have died here!"

At this mention, the old man once again turned his gaze eastward, and sighed in agreement: "Indeed! Once we find the Uyghur envoy, we should go and pay our respects to the Han cavalry for their arrival!"

"Yes!"

This old man was not particularly tall of stature, but carried himself with steady composure. His name was Cao Yuangong, a cousin of Cao Yuanzhong, the Military Governor of the Guiyi Army. He held the office of Prefect of Guazhou, and was the leader of this eastern mission—the highest-ranking person to represent Gua and Sha in communicating with the imperial court and offering tribute over the years. Of course, this was also the first time such a major mishap had occurred.

Soon, they found the accompanying envoy from the Western Prefecture Uyghurs, Pule. He was a burly Uyghur man with a handsome appearance. When facing the bandit attack, he had fought with great valor, leading his Uyghur warriors in desperate resistance. He had been wounded himself, struck by two arrows—one in the thigh, and one in the buttocks, which was rather awkward.

But once found and told that they were going to thank the Han cavalry who had come to their rescue, the envoy Pule showed great enthusiasm. Ignoring his wounds, he treated them briefly and then went to find Cao Yuangong.

Pule had come east this time bearing an important mission—he was sent by Wuguzhi, the Khagan of the Western Prefecture Uyghurs, to seek aid. More than a year had passed since Yelu Xiezhen had led his army west on campaign the previous year. During that time, the situation in the Western Regions had naturally been turned upside down. Under the powerful assault of the Liao army, the Qocho Uyghurs had lost both troops and territory, to the point of having to seek aid from the east—a clear sign of how dire the situation had become.

Of course, the Western Prefecture Uyghurs themselves probably knew that it was unrealistic to expect the Great Han army to march two thousand li across the Western Regions to rescue them, with whom they had no close ties. Thus, Pule's original goal was to seek aid from the Guiyi Army. After all, compared to the Great Han, which was a thousand li away, the Guiyi Army was right at their doorstep, far more convenient—and the two sides were also bound by marriage ties.

It must be noted that the Guiyi Army, which held Gua and Sha, had been in gradual decline since entering the tenth century. After all, surviving in the cracks between more powerful forces had always required extreme caution and circumspection.

Thus, when the Liao army's iron cavalry boldly invaded Qocho, the Guiyi Army was also frightened. They stockpiled grain, accumulated weapons, repaired city defenses, and gathered troops in preparation for war, terrified that the conflict might spill over onto them. Therefore, when the Uyghur Khagan's envoy Pule came to see Cao Yuanzhong, the Military Governor of the Guiyi Army, he received ample courtesy—but as for sending troops, to speak frankly, the Guiyi Army could barely defend itself, let alone dare to oppose the Liao army.

However, they also understood the principle that when the lips are gone, the teeth feel the cold. If the Western Prefecture Uyghurs were truly destroyed, the Liao army could turn around and deal with the Guiyi Army without much effort. As for the Great Han, separated as they were by the Ganzhou Uyghur territory, the Han army could not provide them much meaningful support. For half a century, the Guiyi Army had relied on itself to stand in Gua and Sha, and in critical moments, they could only count on themselves.

Despite their many concerns, they still made some gesture toward the Western Prefecture Uyghurs' plea for aid. After some deliberation, Cao Yuanzhong told Pule that the Guiyi Army was weak—even if they sent two or three thousand troops, it would be of no use. However, the Ganzhou Uyghurs to the east had a population of several hundred thousand, and since they shared a common origin, Pule could seek help from them. He was also preparing to send another envoy to the Central Plains—Pule might as well accompany him, and they could escort him all the way to Ganzhou.

Pule thought it over and found it reasonable. Seeking aid from the Guiyi Army had been a desperate measure to begin with, hoping that the Cao clan could stir up trouble from the rear to pin down the Liao army. By comparison, the Ganzhou Uyghurs had a larger population and stronger military forces. If they could send troops to the rescue, they would serve the same purpose—and with better results.

The gifts brought east had all been prepared for Pule by the Cao clan. However, the result was, naturally, disappointing. After arriving at the khan's tent at Shandan, he stated his purpose to Jingqiong, the Ganzhou Uyghur Khagan who had succeeded to the throne only a few years prior. Jingqiong received Pule with a genial countenance, but whenever the topic of sending troops to the Western Regions came up, he would change the subject. In the end, the lobbying effort failed.

In truth, the Ganzhou Uyghur Khagan Jingqiong was also helpless, because his own days were not easy—there were internal contradictions and external pressures, and all the pressure came from the Great Han to the east. Such was geopolitics: with the rise of the powerful neighbor that was the Great Han, all surrounding powers naturally felt threatened.

Especially the Ganzhou Uyghurs, who counted themselves a power along the Hexi Corridor—that sense of crisis grew by the day. After all, given their strength relative to the current Great Han, to put it dramatically, the Han would only need to lift a single finger to destroy them.

Moreover, over the past decade or so, the Great Han's westward advance had never ceased. Though it was not a violent storm of rapid conquest, it was a steady encroachment, spreading over them like a net—suffocating.

Within the Ganzhou Uyghurs, voices calling for resistance against the Han and defense of the state had begun to rise. Under such circumstances, when Pule came seeking aid, how could the Ganzhou Uyghurs have any mind to send troops westward, to wade into the muddy waters of the Western Regions and offend the Khitan?

As for the Uyghur Khagan Jingqiong's inner thoughts—in the world today, only the Khitan could still barely match the Great Han in strength. If he offended the Khitan, wouldn't he be cutting off his own escape route?

With the failure to obtain aid from Ganzhou, the envoy Pule was naturally deeply disappointed, even somewhat despairing. His mood at the time was as cold as the Hexi winter. And he had no other choice—having already come this far to Ganzhou, to Shandan, he might as well follow Cao Yuangong to Kaifeng. Perhaps the great, tolerant, and benevolent Emperor of the Great Han would take pity on his arduous journey and, moved by compassion, send troops to rescue them?

Even though Cao Yuangong reminded him that it hadn't been long since the Great Han and the Khitan had concluded peace and established friendly relations, Pule still decided to go east. Even if the odds were slim—and of course, this man also understood that at such a time, returning west would be equally fraught with uncertainty, so he might as well go to Kaifeng and try his luck.

Pule's road of seeking aid was truly not easy. Starting from early summer, he had secretly traveled east. There were only a few routes in and out of the Western Regions—Yelu Xiezhen's western campaign had taken the northern route, while Pule's eastern journey took the central route, which had already been cut off by Khitan forces.

Therefore, to evade the Khitan blockades along the way, he had lost considerable time and nearly been captured. Of the hundred-plus men who set out, only twenty-three remained by the time they reached Guazhou. Now, after this attack, more than ten more had been killed or wounded.

On the Han cavalry side, the leader was a man of no small status—Wang Yansheng, the Hexi Chief Commander and Marquis of Pingxi. When the distress message was relayed through the garrison forts to Guzang, Wang Yansheng was in the military camp. Upon receiving the news, the man who had been feeling bored suddenly became interested, and led five hundred Han cavalry westward.

"I am Cao Yuangong, Prefect of Guazhou. I pay my respects to the General. May I ask the General's esteemed name? Thank you for the grace of saving our lives!" Seeing the imposing Wang Yansheng, Cao Yuangong suppressed the slight doubt in his heart and bowed deeply with clasped hands.

"This is the Great Han's Hexi Chief General, the Marquis of Pingxi!" Wang Yansheng did not reply, but a personal guard beside him announced in a loud voice.

At these words, Cao Yuangong's demeanor immediately became even more respectful.

"You are an envoy of the Guiyi Army, and your Mandarin is quite good. Why did you choose such a season to travel east?" Looking down from his horse with an air of arrogance, Wang Yansheng sized him up and asked.

"By order of the Duke of Xiping, I have important matters to attend to at court—to seek an audience with the Son of Heaven!" Cao Yuangong replied.

"And who are you?" Wang Yansheng then turned his gaze to Pule, having already noticed this man's unusual nature.

Upon being asked, Pule hurriedly responded in his halting Chinese: "I am a Uyghur envoy, sent east by order of the Western Prefecture Khagan, to pay respects to the Han Emperor and to establish friendly relations."

Wang Yansheng had some difficulty understanding him, but he eventually got the gist. Upon learning his intent, he could not help but say in a teasing tone: "Western Prefecture Uyghurs? Your Khagan isn't busy fending off the Khitan, and still has the mind to send envoys for diplomatic relations?"

At these words, Pule was momentarily embarrassed.