Chapter 114: Yelu Ruan Ascends the Throne

Youzhou, Jicheng — at this time, a more accurate name would be the Southern Capital.

As a thousand-year-old city with deep foundations, it was the political, military, economic, and cultural center of the north in any era. From the moment it was ceded to the Khitan by Shi Jingtang, Yelu Deguang had shown it great importance.

Under Khitan control, after ten years of development, it actually maintained prosperity, even surpassing what it had been under the Shi Jin. The gap was due not only to the stable Khitan political situation and military strength during Yelu Deguang's reign, but also inseparable from his policy of Sinicization and his extensive employment of Han officials.

The Southern Capital was a large city, thirty-six li in circumference, with two gates on each of its four sides, and two great avenues running east-west and north-south. To the north of the city was a market where goods from land and sea gathered, and there were twenty-six wards where Hu and Han residents lived together.

In terms of overall layout, the Khitan had not undertaken large-scale expansion or renovation of the Southern Capital, basically preserving the appearance of Youzhou city as it had been since the Tang. However, they had put great effort into the city's defenses and the repair and reinforcement of the city walls.

Already possessing enormous potential, after these years of development the Southern Capital had become the most prosperous and wealthy city under Khitan rule, providing the Khitan with enormous tax revenues every year. Compared to it, the capital Shangjing at Linhuang had nothing to offer beyond political status and significance.

In fact, had Yelu Deguang succeeded in annexing the Central Plains, the Southern Capital would have been more suitable as the capital of Liao.

The Southern Capital at this time already had a population of over two hundred thousand — in this era of sharply declining population, such a city was absolutely first-tier. And among its residents, Hu and Han lived mixed together; besides the Han, a good half were Hu. Back then, Yelu Deguang had relocated large numbers of Khitan, Xi, Bohai, and other non-Han peoples southward to live among them.

If one were to rashly campaign north to recover Youyan, it was genuinely uncertain which side would have the advantage in popular support here in Youzhou.

As the armies that had campaigned south against the Shi Jin gradually "withdrew," a massive concentration of troops gathered in the Southern Capital, causing the city's population to approach three hundred thousand in a short time.

But in recent days, the situation in the Southern Capital had become very bad.

The Jin state had been successfully destroyed, but the final outcome was hardly pleasant — it could even be described as terrible. The Emperor had died suddenly on the return journey, the great army had collapsed, the gains of the campaign had been lost, and news of internal strife over the succession had spread on its own.

The flood of negative developments plunged the city into turmoil. Relations between the ethnic groups had never been harmonious. Khitan bullying Han had always been a normal occurrence; previously, with Zhao Yanshou's backing and the Khitan nobles' suppression, things had remained superficially peaceful.

But this time, having been bloodied in the south, the conflict between Hu and Han — already rife with contradictions — was directly ignited.

The returning Khitan defeated soldiers placed all the blame for the defeat at Luancheng on the Yan troops, loudly proclaiming that the Yan troops had rebelled — which inadvertently complemented Liu Chengyou's propaganda. The finger was pointed directly at the Han populace, and all the resentment over the military defeat was vented upon the Han. The Hu in the city also seized the opportunity to make trouble — beating, smashing, looting — venting their fury, though of course seizing Han property was the main objective.

But the Han populace, whose spines had not yet been broken, were not so easy to bully, and they resisted fiercely. Moreover, they too harbored resentment — who knew how many families in the city had sent their men south with the Liao Emperor to fight, only for those men never to return and instead be branded traitors. The conflict between Hu and Han was fierce, but without military support, how could the Han match the Hu? They suffered badly.

As for Yelu Ruan, he too seemed to bear some resentment over the Yan troops' betrayal. Though he did not support the Hu plundering the Han, he also did nothing — somewhat letting the Khitan vent their anger on the Han.

In the end, it was Zhang Li who could not bear to watch, and he admonished Yelu Ruan with fierce words. He even questioned him to his face: if the Southern Capital fell into chaos, could the Prince of Yongkang proceed north to seize the throne with peace of mind?

Though this enraged Yelu Ruan, it also calmed him down. Soon, Yelu Ruan began to rein in the troops and sent soldiers to suppress the unrest, killing quite a few people before the chaos ceased. The disorder was quelled, but the tense atmosphere in the city had not diminished in the slightest.

Just as Liu Chengyou was agonizing over the food problem, so too was Yelu Ruan. When Yelu Deguang had campaigned south earlier, the treasuries of Youdu had been emptied, and the number of people he had to support was even greater. Fortunately, he had managed to hold out until the summer harvest, which brought some relief.

In recent days, Yelu Ruan had been reorganizing the army in Youzhou, concentrating grain and fodder, and repairing military equipment — clearly brewing some major action.

At dawn, large contingents of Khitan troops occupied all the key thoroughfares in the city and imposed martial law. This sudden move made the atmosphere in the city even more tense, especially for the Han.

It was a fine day — the weather was clearly good, the rising sun high, ten thousand rays of morning glow shining upon the Yan Palace and government offices of the Southern Capital. The Yan Palace's security was clearly on a higher level, and its guard troops were more elite. Early in the morning, the Hu and Han officials of the Southern Capital were all gathered there. The nobles and generals of the various tribes also arrived in plain robes and gleaming armor.

In a side hall of the Yan Palace — imposing and grand — the originally empty hall was now filled with people. Aside from a small number of Han officials, most were Khitan nobles, with the Great Kings of the Southern and Northern Divisions at the head of the left and right, followed by a string of ministers and generals surnamed "Yelu."

Everywhere in the palace, white silk still hung. In the center, a huge coffin rested silently, and Yelu Deguang's spirit tablet stood before it, the characters on the tablet gilded.

Even though the body had been treated, a strange odor still emanated from the coffin, spreading through the air — yet the civil and military officials in the hall all seemed not to notice.

The central figure in the hall was clearly Yelu Ruan. Dressed in mourning clothes, he knelt silently on a soft cushion, his face expressionless as he immersed himself in the solemn, grave atmosphere, reveling in the lingering strange smell.

Judging that the moment was right, Yelu Anbo — whom Yelu Ruan had appointed Commissioner of the Northern Bureau of Military Affairs — produced a roll of brocade silk, spread it open, and with full force of voice declared: "The imperial edict is here! All civil and military officials, hear the proclamation!"

At these words, everyone's spirits lifted, and they knelt down in unison.

Yelu Anbo's voice was very steady — clearly rehearsed — as he read out Yelu Deguang's posthumous edict. The edict was lengthy, but its general meaning was clear: the Prince of Yongkang, the legitimate grandson of the Grand Ancestor and eldest son of the King of Dongdan, beloved of the Empress Dowager and favored by all, may ascend the imperial throne at the Central Capital.

In fact, the preparations for assuming the throne had been underway for a long time and were in all respects well settled. Yelu Ruan already had the support of the Southern Capital's civil and military officials and troops. This edict-proclaiming ceremony was truly just a ceremony — going through the motions.

Without the slightest surprise, the drama of succeeding to the throne before the coffin was smoothly self-directed and self-performed by Yelu Ruan. The nobles and officials played their parts perfectly as well — the moment the edict was read, they all cried out "Your Majesty" to Yelu Ruan in unison.

Yelu Ruan was a man who loved Han culture. Amid the crowd's acclamation, he changed into ceremonial robes, wrapped himself in the dragon robe, and donned the imperial crown, then proceeded directly to the main hall of the Yan Palace to receive the homage of the civil and military officials. Soon, the sounds of song and music filled the palace without cease.

With the support of the assembled ministers and generals, he had ascended the throne and made it a fait accompli. Only then did Yelu Ruan send envoys to report the matter to Empress Dowager Shulu in Shangjing. At the same time, he continued his preparations for war — he had a very clear understanding that the struggle for the throne would inevitably spill blood!