Chapter 1248: The Death of the Liao Emperor

The spring breeze swept across the Huang River, and most of the plateau grasslands of Northeast Asia were bursting with new life, with the mountains and waters around Linhuang gaining fresh touches of green. In this season full of vitality, the Liao Supreme Capital was nonetheless immersed in an atmosphere of grief—and within that grief, there was no shortage of urgency and oppression.

The Supreme Capital had been under martial law for nearly a month now, with still no sign of reopening. White mourning banners stood tall atop the walls, white sashes densely crisscrossed the city, and large numbers of Liao imperial clansmen, nobles, generals, and chieftains who had rushed back from beyond the capital region were all confined within the city—allowed in, but not out...

The cause of all this was simple: the Liao Emperor Yelu Jing had died—suddenly, and unexpectedly. For any state, the death of an emperor or leader is a major event, often accompanied by political turmoil; one misstep and it becomes a full-blown upheaval.

For Liao, the situation was even more serious, because Emperor Yelu Jing had died an unnatural death—he had been assassinated. Yelu Jing, who had governed Liao for nearly two decades, was a standout figure of this era, cloaked in the radiance of power and glory, the kind of great man who could stir the tides of history. Yet his death was humiliating, even absurd.

As for the cause of death, tracing it to its roots, it lay in his own personality and conduct—he had been too harsh and cruel toward his close attendants, the palace eunuchs, treating them like slaves.

In the later years of his reign, Yelu Jing, due to years of heavy drinking compounded by internal and external pressures, had become extremely unstable mentally. On the one hand, he maintained his nearly twenty-year style of showing consideration for his ministers and cherishing his people; on the other, he grew ever more harsh and brutal toward the eunuchs around him, beating and killing them at the slightest provocation.

Back then, even Emperor Liu, upon learning of these matters, found them somewhat baffling. The contrast in Yelu Jing's two-sided nature was too stark—he could be tolerant and kind to outsiders, yet so severe toward the attendants who served him personally and accompanied his travels. After much thought, aside from his own mental and psychological issues, it was probably that he truly never regarded those eunuchs as human beings...

Of course, from the standpoint of an onlooker, Emperor Liu could make calm, objective judgments, even critique and comment, even click his tongue in wonder. But he perhaps didn't realize that serving a ruler is like lying beside a tiger—his own close attendants' fear of him was hardly any less. Over the years, no small number of people around Emperor Liu had been punished for various reasons, and countless more had lost their lives. It was just that Emperor Liu, unlike Yelu Jing, wasn't so manic; he didn't fly into baseless rages or casually open the gates of slaughter...

As for Yelu Jing, after returning to the Supreme Capital from his meeting with Emperor Liu at Baishuiluo, he grew even more frenzied, even more distrustful of the eunuchs around him. Within a few months, the attendants serving him had been replaced yet again. And those who were replaced either died or were maimed, or were convicted and exiled—virtually none came to a good end.

This made staying by Yelu Jing's side like playing a game of terror—at any moment, one could be accused of a crime and face a life-or-death crisis. The eunuchs all feared for their own safety, their mental strain equally immense. What such a situation would lead to was predictable—and so, under prolonged repression, it exploded...

On the night of the suburban sacrifice on the 23rd day of the 12th month of the seventh year of Kaibao, Yelu Jing, as usual, drank and reveled, then fell into a drunken sleep. Perhaps in a good mood, for the first time he did not berate his eunuchs, and even specially bestowed some wine and meat as a mark of favor.

But early the next morning, not long after Yelu Jing had collapsed in drunkenness, the two favored attendants who had received the rewards—Shande and Nuli—after tidying up the tent-palace, drew out Yelu Jing's personal golden knife and carried out the assassination.

Yelu Jing, deeply drunk, had no defense whatsoever, no ability to resist. He was stabbed three times, each wound fatal, and muddle-headedly departed the world. His death was relatively peaceful, at least—he didn't feel much pain...

That golden knife—Yelu Jing had used it to personally execute eunuchs, and in the end, it was the very same blade two eunuchs used to slay their sovereign. The karmic cycle of it all was truly a cause for sighs.

The two eunuchs, Shande and Nuli, were of the Khitan's latter four tribes by origin, former soldiers of the Pishi Army who had participated in the great Han-Liao war. Half a month before the incident, they had unfortunately been selected as attendants before the imperial presence.

The two could be said to have killed in a fit of passion. After slaying the sovereign, once they calmed down, they were of course terrified, and hurriedly fled. In their panic, they could hardly avoid exposing themselves—they were spotted by the Flying Dragon Commissioner Nüli, who sensed something amiss and stopped them for questioning. Upon discovering the bloodstains remaining on their persons, the two made a sudden desperate move, but were subdued by Nüli and several guards.

Afterwards, Nüli went to the imperial tent to request an audience, only to discover that Emperor Yelu Jing was already dead, his blood staining the barbarian couch. Nüli was merely a lowly Flying Dragon Commissioner, but faced with this sudden upheaval, he played a crucial role and found an opportunity for advancement. In the urgency of the moment, he conferred with the Palace Commander of the Guard, Yelu Yila, on emergency arrangements.

With the emperor assassinated, Yelu Yila bore inescapable responsibility. He was panicked, his mind a blank, and was utterly manipulated by a mere Nüli—offering no opinions at all, simply following his arrangements.

The two deliberated: secure the imperial camp, seal off news, and simultaneously notify the prestigious noble ministers to come and take charge of affairs. Under normal circumstances, notifying the Prince of Yue, Yelu Bishe, would have been the most appropriate choice. He was not only Yelu Jing's full brother, but also renowned for his virtue and greatly relied upon.

However, Nüli notified three other people instead: the Prince of Qi, Yelu Xian; the Chancellor of the Northern Administration, Yelu Xianshi; and the Director of the Chancellery, Xiao Siwen. This was significant. At the time, the power center of Liao had four nobles of prominence: the Prince of Yue, Yelu Bishe; the Great King of the Southern Division, Yelu Xiezhen; the Northern Commissioner of Military Affairs, Xiao Husi; and the Chancellor of the Northern Administration, Yelu Xianshi.

Even if someone needed to be found to clean up the mess, it shouldn't have fallen to Yelu Xianshi by any reckoning. Even if Yelu Bishe and Yelu Xiezhen were both absent, there was still the Northern Commissioner of Military Affairs, Xiao Husi. Yet Nüli notified only the aforementioned three—his intentions were plain to see.

Yelu Xian's identity was inherently sensitive, and having been enfeoffed as Prince of Qi not long ago, his prestige was on the rise. Xiao Siwen, because of the disastrous defeat at the Battle of Tanzhou years ago—losing his army and territory—and because of his father-in-law and son-in-law relationships with the two rebel clansmen, the Prince of Taiping, Yelu Yansage, and the Prince of Zhao, Yelu Xiyin, had long been distrusted and ostracized by Yelu Jing. He had languished for years before being somewhat restored to office as Director of the Chancellery, but it was essentially a sinecure with little real power.

As for Yelu Xianshi, accomplished in both civil and military affairs, he was praised as having the talent to rescue the state. In recent years he had enjoyed deep trust from Yelu Jing, and his relationship with Yelu Xian was not merely a matter of their names differing by one character—privately, they had always been close...

As for the Prince of Qi, Yelu Xian, he was not at the field headquarters at the time, but was worshiping Buddha at Cloud Gate Temple north of the Supreme Capital. Upon learning of the upheaval, he did not hesitate in the slightest—taking only a dozen or so guards, he braved the cold wind and rode straight for Black Mountain, where the field headquarters was located.

By the time Yelu Xian arrived at the field headquarters, a tense atmosphere already prevailed. The first thing Yelu Xianshi did upon entering the imperial camp was to lift the high-pressure state of alert, lest people's minds begin to speculate—but he expanded the scope of the lockdown on news of the emperor's death. At the same time, he summoned the Right Pishi commander Xiao Wuli, placed him under control, stripped him of his military authority, and had Xiao Siwen take over in his place.

Thus, the entire field headquarters was quickly brought under control by Yelu Xianshi and the others, and Yelu Xian's arrival gave everyone a pillar of support. The several of them conferred in secret, continuing to conceal the news, controlling the field headquarters, and rushing back to the capital at speed to maintain the situation and prevent unrest.

What followed proceeded very smoothly. Upon returning to the Supreme Capital, they still kept the death a secret, and in the emperor's name ordered the entire city—including the palace—under martial law, clearing the streets and markets, with all nobles, civil and military ministers alike forbidden from entering or leaving without authorization.

Only after all matters had been basically settled—most importantly, with control of the military firmly in their hands—did Yelu Xianshi step forward to convene the imperial clansmen, nobles, and ministers, and inform them of the news that the emperor had been assassinated.

For the ministers of Liao, this news was no less than a thunderbolt from a clear sky. After all, this was an emperor who had ruled Liao for nearly twenty years. Despite all his absurdities and baffling behavior, for him to die so suddenly after holding the state so long—and to die by assassination—the shock was naturally immense.

Digesting the news was not difficult, nor did it take much time, but hard on its heels came all manner of suspicion. Recalling the series of actions by Yelu Xianshi and the others, a group of imperial clansmen led by the Prince of Taiping, Yelu Yansage, and the Prince of Anping, Yelu Dilie, along with Yelu Jing's trusted ministers, naturally subjected them to fierce interrogation—every question struck at the heart, stopping just short of directly accusing Yelu Xianshi and the others of regicide and treason. After all, Emperor Yelu Jing's death was too sudden, too suspicious, and conspiracy theories always find a market in any era.

Though the overall situation was already in hand, facing this surging tide of indignation, Yelu Xianshi and the others felt enormous pressure—especially Yelu Xianshi, who had been pushed to the forefront to preside. What they relied upon was having seized the initiative and controlled most of the army, but that control was merely seizing advantage amid chaos—it was not truly secure. In such circumstances, hearts and minds were divided.