Chapter 1218: Undercurrents in Liao's Political Scene

This autumn, Yelu Jing traveled south on an inspection tour, not to echo Emperor Liu's northern tour, but with the Xi people of the south in mind. Within Liao, the Xi held an important position—when Yelu Abaoji had dominated beyond the frontier and unified the various tribes, the Xi had provided tremendous assistance.

All along, within Liao's military system, Xi strength had been considerable, producing a great many capable figures. Moreover, the Xi's traditional homeland stood beyond the Yan Mountains, holding immense strategic value, and when the Great Han pushed north past the Guanshan range, its importance rose another notch.

For decades now, the Xi had been divided into six tribes, governed by the Xi King's administration, enjoying great autonomy. However, as the historical situation shifted with the winds, Yelu Jing had come to hold different ideas on this matter.

This southern tour was precisely to pressure the Xi King and the Xi people, initiating the complete absorption of the Xi into Liao's military and administrative system, further realizing military-political unification.

This too came from feeling the ever-growing pressure from the Great Han to the south—compelled to seek change, intending to tap internal potential and raise strength. With decades of accumulation behind them, obstacles to this goal existed, but they were not great.

The results were notable. When Yelu Jing arrived with his imperial guard, under immense political and military pressure, the Xi King submitted. Now, Liao ministers led by the Yue King Yelu Bishe were deliberating how to divide and demarcate the six Xi tribes and their territories.

Having settled one matter, Yelu Jing could not help but feel pleased, and so resumed his hunting tour, remaining within Xi territory—in truth, also to display his might. It must be said that Yelu Jing's frequent tours, while causing some drain on national resources and adding burdens to the regions and tribes visited, were themselves part of tradition, and Liao's many years of stability had benefited from them.

Continuing into August, Yelu Jing turned westward, first setting up an enclosure hunt upstream on the Liu River, hunting for five days, then arriving at Yangcheng Lake.

Yangcheng Lake, located on the upper reaches of the Luan River with Tanshan to its east, was no great lake or vast marsh—its surface area being roughly one-tenth that of Baishui Lake.

By now, all the world knew that the Liao sovereign Yelu Jing had two great passions: hunting and drinking. These two things were nearly fused into his very bones—no wine meant no rest, no hunting meant no joy.

The guarding imperial troops plus attendant nobles and ministers numbered over thirty thousand—a far greater show than Emperor Liu's entourage. Tents were pitched along the lakeshore, stretching for several li around, everything arranged to campaign standards. Having suffered several ambushes and internal revolts, Yelu Jing took this matter very seriously.

His control over the military was tight—the imperial guard, including the Pishi Army, was firmly held in the hands of his trusted generals. If any rebel element wished to recreate the Huoshen Lake Rebellion, it was essentially impossible.

Among the attending nobles were several of Yelu Jing's own younger brothers. Besides the Yue King Yelu Bishe, who enjoyed his deep trust and heavy authority while conducting himself with modesty and deference, there were also the Taiping King Yelu Yansage and the Anping King Yelu Dilie.

The latter two he brought everywhere—especially the Taiping King Yelu Yansage, who was not a settled man; Yelu Jing could not rest easy unless he kept him under his own eyes. By comparison, the Anping King Yelu Dilie, after more than a decade of suppression and tempering, had grown far more humble, submitting to his elder brother, seeming to have abandoned his former delusions and ambitions.

The Liao army's field headquarters was arrayed around the imperial tent, orderly yet not lacking in liveliness—human voices and animal calls drifting on the autumn wind over Yangcheng Lake.

It was past noon; Yelu Jing, having only recently woken and washed up, was just beginning his new day's work and life. Within the imperial camp stood a high platform, the imperial banner snapping loudly in the wind. Yelu Jing sat high on a folding stool, enjoying fine wine and roasted meat while watching Khitan warriors wrestle in the drill ground.

Flanking him in two rows sat the attendant nobles and ministers, with crowds of soldiers surrounding them, cheering and shouting—a magnificent scene, a fervent atmosphere. Perhaps the contest grew so fierce it shook off Yelu Jing's drowsiness; after three cups of wine, his face flushed red and his spirits rose. He immediately ordered that the final victor of this bout be awarded ten fine horses, ten cattle and ten sheep, and a promotion of three ranks.

Among the attending ministers was a young man, sitting quietly to one side, his seat quite near the front, dressed in noble attire with a traditional Khitan topknot.

Like most present, his attention was on the Khitan warriors wrestling in the arena, yet no matter how fierce the contest, his face—tinged with a hint of illness—showed little reaction. Only the gaze from his eyes appeared deep and profound, occasionally stealing careful glances at Yelu Jing.

This young man was named Yelu Xian, the second son of the Liao Shizong, Yelu Ruan. Orphaned by the Huoshen Lake Rebellion, which had taken both his parents, he had been raised in the palace by Yelu Jing since childhood. Now grown, he had turned twenty.

For nearly twenty years, the Liao imperial house had waged a series of struggles over the throne, concluding with Yelu Jing extinguishing all plots and rebellions.

After a decade of peace, a new crisis now seemed to be brewing, rooted in the fact that the emperor Yelu Jing had no heirs. Perhaps years of drinking and irregular habits had damaged his body—now nearing forty, he had produced no offspring, and this was nearly fatal.

Yelu Xian was a clever man. Though Yelu Jing treated him well without much suspicion, having experienced too many conspiracies and rebellions from childhood, he had grown precocious and reserved.

The fact that Yelu Jing had no heir had shown him hope and opportunity. Over nearly twenty years, quietly, a group of people had gathered around him. Among them were not a few of his father's old retainers and former officials, nor lacking the disappointed men of Yelu Jing's era, and moreover Han and Khitan ministers including Yelu Xianshi who sympathized with Yelu Xian and placed great hopes on him.

The current Liao political scene was already seething with undercurrents. The emperor's lack of an heir was one cause; Yelu Jing's alternating clarity and confusion was another. Though he occasionally displayed wisdom and insight, treating his ministers and the people without tyranny or harsh governance, even personally praying during famines, the court ministers still could not help but grow estranged.

Serving under an emperor whose mind was somewhat unstable was difficult and dangerous. It was true that Yelu Jing's era did have a cadre of capable Khitan and Han civil and military officials governing the state for him, but these, when compared with the great Han Empire to the south, seemed hardly worth mentioning.

Yet Yelu Jing seemed to have little awareness of all this. Still, worry need not show on one's face—from the way Yelu Jing had in recent years increased the authority of his imperial brother Yelu Bishe and favored his confidant Yelu Xian, one could see there was perhaps no small consideration for the succession of the throne.

"Your Highness!" As Yelu Xian pondered while eating meat, an official beside him called out softly. This man was named Nüli, holding the office of Flying Dragon Commissioner, and had long been close and familiar with Yelu Xian.

Coming back to himself, he turned his head and revealed a gentle smile: "What is it?"

Nüli was skilled at judging horses, and replied: "Your subordinate recently came upon a remarkable steed and wishes to present it to Your Highness!"

"If one encounters a fine horse, one should present it to His Majesty!" Yelu Xian replied thus.

Hearing this, Nüli was briefly startled, but noticing Yelu Xian's gaze, seemed to understand something and nimbly responded: "Your Highness speaks truly!"

As the two conversed, the contest in the drill ground had reached its conclusion. Yelu Jing was greatly pleased, ordering wine and meat to be bestowed, and a new pair of strong men entered the arena as a new round of wrestling was about to begin.

But at this moment, an imperial guard officer hurried over, climbed the high platform, and reported something to Yelu Jing. Not close enough to hear, one could only see Yelu Jing's surprised expression.

Soon, Yelu Jing left a single instruction for Yelu Xian to preside over the remaining bouts, while he led several nobles and ministers back to the imperial tent.

Only afterward did Yelu Xian learn that the Great Han had sent an envoy—the Han emperor inviting Yelu Jing westward for a joint hunt. A tent council followed with almost no debate; Yelu Jing decisively resolved to go meet him.

Just as Emperor Liu was curious about Yelu Jing, Yelu Jing was equally interested in Emperor Liu, his great enemy. Since the latter had taken the initiative to invite him, meeting beyond the northern frontier on his own home ground, he had no reason to decline.