Chapter 1341: The End of the Northern Expedition 1

The winter north wind, coarse and devoid of any warmth, rampaged wantonly across the Monan grasslands, sweeping over the wild plains and withered grass. The chill was not bone-piercing, yet it seemed able to penetrate skin and blood, sinking cold into the very depths of one's heart.

Of course, for the Liao Emperor Yelu Xian, what chilled his heart even more was the bitter defeat he had just suffered. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and the entire world seemed tinged with a faint ink-like hue. Reining in his horse by the banks of the Na'ersong River, Yelu Xian's heart was likewise shrouded in an inescapable shadow.

Green pines stood all around, dense and towering. The Na'ersong River remained crystal clear, flowing unhurriedly southeast into Baishui Lake. Having fled north to this place, everyone momentarily relaxed their taut nerves, and large numbers of Liao soldiers dismounted to draw water from the river.

It was a scene of bustling chaos — the clamor of voices, the howling of the wind, and the intermingled neighing of horses and lowing of livestock wove together, adding to the desolation. Some officers and officials hurried about, doing their duty, trying to restrain the troops. They cracked their whips and shouted themselves hoarse before finally achieving some effect.

A retreat had ultimately devolved into a rout, and the blocking action of Kang Baoyi's army had played a crucial role. Although, under the Liao Emperor's personal supervision and the Liao army's desperate assaults, they had held for less than three days, this had bought time for the main forces of Liu Tinghan and Li Hanqiong to arrive.

On the foothills and plains south of Baishui Lake, the Han and Liao sides fought a battle second only to the great battle at the Liao River since the start of the Kaibao northern expedition. The combat zone stretched from the Great Wall in the south to Baishui Lake in the north. Some two hundred thousand troops of both sides engaged in a life-and-death struggle along a battle line of over seventy li from north to south. Both were exhausted armies, and at one point the fighting degenerated into chaotic, disorderly melee.

But the consequences of this battle were even more severe, even more fatal. In terms of numbers, the Liao army was not at an absolute disadvantage, but amid the Han army's relentless pursuit and interception, many Liao soldiers lost their composure and fled in collapse. This last strategic army of Liao suffered heavy losses, with grievous casualties among officers and men.

Even the Emperor Yelu Xian himself had fallen into danger several times, extricating himself from life-and-death crises only through the desperate rescue efforts of his bodyguard troops. The price was that the elite guard and Pishi units — the core ruling force that shielded imperial authority — suffered crippling damage.

From orderly, commanded withdrawal to disorderly, chaotic rout took only a single day. Although due to insufficient numbers and exhausted troops, the Han army's encirclement campaign — launched from the very start amid chaos and risk — did not achieve complete victory, it was ultimately a victory nonetheless.

During the rout, large numbers of Liao troops were still lost among the foothills and ridges of the Yin Mountains, including the rearguard forces led by the Emperor's uncle, Yelu Daoyin. As for the baggage trains and livestock, most of what was captured ultimately became war booty for the Han army.

The various tribes scattered in all directions, with countless losses. Faced with the crisis at hand, Yelu Xian could only choose to preserve himself, fleeing north in haste under the protection of his personal guards, routing a hundred li in one stretch.

Yelu Xian nearly tumbled off his horse, stumbling upon landing and almost falling. A guard general hurriedly leaped from his mount to support him, but Yelu Xian shoved him away.

With a wooden expression, Yelu Xian staggered toward the riverbank. The Liao soldiers drawing water, upon seeing the Emperor, instinctively moved aside to make room for him.

Yelu Xian, paying them no heed, crouched by the water's edge, scooped up river water and splashed it onto his face. The icy water struck his skin, and he rubbed vigorously several times, making his face even redder. The knife-like cold seemed to become trivial.

Lowering his head to gaze at the unclear reflection on the water's surface, Yelu Xian's soul seemed to return to him. Whether it was tears or river water, something slid from the corners of his eyes.

At this moment, Yelu Xian was utterly disheveled — covered in mud and filth, with disheveled hair and a grimy face. Flashes of blades and swords kept flickering through his mind, and the sounds of the Han army's pursuit seemed to still echo in his ears.

He had once been resolute, sweeping south with high spirits and bold ambition, smashing the Han army and ravaging Shanyang. In the end, he had still wound up with lost troops and slain generals, fleeing north in panic. The sweet outer shell of his southern victories, when peeled back by the Han army's counterattack, revealed the bitter truth beneath.

Paying no mind to cleanliness, Yelu Xian scooped up more water and drank two mouthfuls, feeling the chill seep into his heart. He rose, blood rushing to his head, and felt dizzy for a moment. He paused briefly before recovering. Gazing at the Na'ersong River shrouded in cold mist before him, Yelu Xian murmured: "I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to taste this water again in this lifetime..."

"Your Majesty, you must take care of your health and restore your confidence! The Great Liao still needs you to regroup. A single defeat is not frightening — as long as you remain resolute, the day of a comeback will surely come!" Seeing Yelu Xian regain some vitality, Han Derang stepped forward slowly, handed him a towel, and consoled him in a low voice.

Hearing this, Yelu Xian turned his head to look at Han Derang, who was equally disheveled, and said bitterly: "Minister Han, you have far-reaching insight. In your view, does the Great Liao still have a chance to make a comeback?"

Clearly, having personally tasted the flavor of defeat, Yelu Xian's self-confidence had suffered a severe blow. Sensing the desolation and bitterness in Yelu Xian's tone, Han Derang was silent for a moment before finally speaking: "Though we have suffered successive setbacks, the Great Liao's foundation remains. Even if we lack the strength to confront the Southern Court head-on, as long as we focus on development, nurture our people, and bide our time, there is hope for the future. The Han army may be strong now, but how long can it last?

There is no empire or dynasty that never falls — all eventually face decline. What is called 'flourishing to the extreme, then declining' — the Southern Court is now vast and unmatched, but the vaster it grows, the more bloated it becomes, and the more prone to problems.

Your Majesty should emulate the deeds of Taizu in his day — even if you must start from scratch, revive the Great Liao..."

Hearing Han Derang's words, Yelu Xian was somewhat moved, but his reaction was not strong. Looking at Han Derang, who was speaking with great eloquence, he pointed south and said: "Minister Han, for a Southern Court whose national strength is rising like the morning sun, isn't it a bit too early to speak of its decline and fall?"

This question left Han Derang momentarily speechless. He had intended to console Yelu Xian, never expecting him to take it so seriously. After thinking it over, he replied: "Hundreds of years ago, who could have imagined that even the mighty Great Sui would perish within two reigns? The current Han dynasty is expanding too rapidly, just like the Sui dynasty of old — it only needs one foolish and tyrannical successor! Who can say what the future holds?"

"The one leading the Han army to attack Liaodong is precisely their Crown Prince. Having learned of his performance, do you think their Crown Prince is a foolish and tyrannical ruler?" Yelu Xian countered.

Han Derang: "A Crown Prince is, after all, still a Crown Prince. Whether he can successfully inherit the throne remains doubtful. Since ancient times, a ruler as powerful as the Han Emperor — how could he tolerate a capable Crown Prince? Moreover, I have heard that the Han Emperor has many sons, and most of them are talented, yet there is only one throne. This may well become a major problem for the Southern Court. Your Majesty knows well how much impact a succession struggle can have on a nation! Even our Great Liao has suffered thus — how much more the Great Han?"

Han Derang had probably gotten carried away with his own eloquence, even going so far as to hint at Liao's past struggles and internal strife over succession. And this point indeed stirred Yelu Xian's memories.

"Enough! Minister Han, you need not console me further. This defeat, though grievous, has cut me to the heart, but I will not sink into utter despair!" Yelu Xian could feel Han Derang's comfort and sighed: "The future of the Han dynasty is none of our concern — speculating about it is futile. The situation the Great Liao currently faces is what we must confront! After this setback, I am ashamed even to return to Shangjing! I wonder what the situation is in Shangjing, and how things fare in Mobei — can they still remain stable?"

At this, Han Derang fell silent as well. He knew full well that amid the prolonged and intense warfare, Liao's situation had never been optimistic, already teetering on the brink of collapse. Now, having sent the full strength of Shangjing south and suffered a heavy blow, one misstep upon returning would spell the disintegration of the Great Liao.

In the past, the Liao court had been powerful, enough to awe all directions and suppress the grassland tribes. But now, due to the war and conscription, those Uyghur and Tatar descendant tribes were already full of resentment, and even the Khitan's own internal tribes were showing signs of drifting apart.

Under such circumstances, Han Derang dared not even think deeply about what kind of mess Yelu Xian would face upon returning to Mobei...

"Your Majesty, the Southern Court's strength originates from the Han Emperor. You are in the prime of your life, while the Han Emperor is already aged. You have ample time to await the future..." But no matter what, life had to go on, and Han Derang had to keep Yelu Xian's spirits up.

"Enough, let's focus on the present!" Though somewhat impatient, Yelu Xian ultimately regained some spirit under Han Derang's "nagging."