Chapter 1918: The Minister Resident to the Tibetans
Perhaps even Emperor Liu himself was not entirely clear about what mindset and purpose lay behind his question to Liu Xi. But for Liu Xi, the pressure in his heart was overwhelming. He lowered his head slightly, paused for a moment, and replied, "Your servant awaits Your Majesty's command!"
This answer was somewhat unexpected to Emperor Liu. He silently watched Liu Xi for a while, and seeing that he remained utterly unperturbed, only then did he look away, letting out a silent sigh.
In the past, Emperor Liu had wished with all his heart that every prince would be like a dragon, each one a talent of excellence—but that was more from the perspective of a father. However, as an emperor, by now Emperor Liu had truly begun to worry that his sons were too outstanding.
Within the imperial house, talents emerging one after another—this was a good thing for the imperial family, but not necessarily for the state. How to arrange them was always a headache. And on the matter of family and heirs, Emperor Liu had always sought perfection, even though he knew in his heart it was merely a vain hope.
Sending the princes off to their fiefs was a solution that was no solution, one Emperor Liu had agonized over for half his life before finally settling on it. Of the four great princes of the early years, Liu Xu and Liu Fang had both been arranged for—it was impossible to leave Liu Xi alone as the sole exception.
And in fact, in recent times, a series of moves by Emperor Liu, starting from himself, had already established the empire's future heir. After all, at least on the surface, no "spare tire" was being kept anymore.
This was also why Emperor Liu's proposal of enfeoffment had drawn criticism from all sides, yet there were always some people who supported it with all their might—including the Crown Prince and his retainers, who could best appreciate the benefits it brought.
It wasn't that after serving as Crown Prince for thirty years, one's position was secure—ultimately, it still depended on the old emperor's intentions. And for the Crown Prince's faction, the current situation had truly become clear: the imperial will was set. Some matters, Emperor Liu truly could no longer stir up, especially on the question of succession—he even dared not.
Yet sometimes, Emperor Liu could not help but wonder: if the Crown Prince were someone else—if Liu Xu, Liu Xi, or even Liu Fang were to inherit the Great Han Empire in the future—what would the outcome be? Would they be more suitable than Liu Yang, and do a better job?
Leaving aside the others, after so many years of careful observation, at least in Emperor Liu's eyes, both Liu Xu and Liu Xi possessed sufficient capability. Or rather, each of the two had displayed traits in some aspect that closely resembled Emperor Liu himself—and this was something especially captivating, and easily influenced Emperor Liu's assessment of them.
By comparison, the Crown Prince Liu Yang appeared overly mediocre, even to the point of being considered ordinary. Of course, such a comparison was somewhat unfair to the Crown Prince Liu Yang. If Liu Xu or Liu Xi had been Crown Prince, Emperor Liu might have had a completely different set of feelings. At the root of it all, this was still the emperor looking at the Crown Prince, not simply a father looking at his son.
At this moment, facing this son whom he had never truly seen clearly, a complex and inexpressible emotion rose once again in Emperor Liu's heart. After a moment of deliberation, Emperor Liu said slowly, "Since that is the case, I will assign you another task!"
Upon hearing this, Liu Xi bowed again: "I await Your Majesty's instruction!"
Gazing at Liu Xi's calm demeanor, Emperor Liu said, "The Tibetan Assembly has already been held twice. This year will be the third. I intend to have you represent the court, travel to Lhasa, and preside over the assembly!"
The Tibetan Assembly was, after the various Tibetan tribes had submitted to the Great Han, under Emperor Liu's direction, a gathering organized by the court dispatching high-ranking officials to Lhasa—a covenant meeting between the court and the various Tibetan tribes, to win over the tribes while also mediating their conflicts of interest and disputes.
Ever since several Tibetan tribal "representatives" jointly came to the capital years ago to express their submission to the court, the court had legitimately incorporated the snowy plateau into the Great Han's dominion. Of course, implementing the centralized commandery-county system was still somewhat difficult. Even someone as arrogant as Emperor Liu had been back then had not forced the issue. Instead, after obtaining nominal sovereignty over the Tibetan tribes, he chose to win them over, continuing to maintain the interests of the tribal chieftains and guaranteeing their governing authority and various benefits.
Over the years, the court's policy toward the plateau had basically revolved around three points: political courtship, economic bribery, and military deterrence. Simply put, it was both striking and pulling—the carrot and the stick combined.
The Tibetan tribes were not so easily tamed. In the early years, not all tribes were willing to submit to the court. Some were immersed in the glory of the past, intending to maintain their "independence and autonomy," and there were even ambitious ones who vainly sought to end the Tibetans' more than a century of division and reunify the plateau.
Of course, those who refused to submit, those who opposed, were ultimately eliminated one by one in the long struggle, becoming history. Toward the plateau, the court—or rather Emperor Liu—had surprisingly shown sufficient patience.
Against the unsubmissive, they rarely sent troops proactively. Instead, they used political and economic benefits to buy over those tribes friendly to the court, and by supporting these forces, they struck at the stubborn elements.
What the court needed to expend was merely some grain, cloth, salt, tea, and other supplies. These things were scarce resources on the plateau, but for the Great Han, they were but a drop in the bucket.
Under this onslaught of sugar-coated bullets, not many Tibetan tribes could resist. Those who refused to submit were either driven to barren wastelands, fleeing to desolate regions that even the gods abhorred, or they perished with their clans wiped out, their lands, tribesmen, and livestock all carved up.
Thus, in less than ten years, whether truly convinced or not, most of the Tibetan tribes on the snowy plateau had accepted the court's investiture and become native chieftains of the Great Han.
After that, the court began organizing the "Tibetan Assembly" in the name of the central authority. This was, over all these years, a measure by which the court directly intervened in plateau affairs—and a very important measure.
The convening of the Tibetan Assembly was the Great Han, in the capacity of arbiter, concretely interfering in the relations and affairs of the various Tibetan tribes. It was a process of continuously strengthening the ruling relationship, and at the same time an opportunity for direct exchange and dialogue between the court and the Tibetans.
Held once every five years, by the twenty-sixth year of Kaibao, it would be exactly the third session. And for this session, Emperor Liu clearly intended to play some new tricks. It should be noted that although the representatives sent to attend the previous two sessions had all been high-ranking court officials, with considerable prestige, none could possibly outrank Prince Jin, Liu Xi, a Prince of the blood.
From this, one could see the importance Emperor Liu attached to this assembly, as well as the shift in his attitude toward plateau affairs and the various Tibetan tribes. If one counted from the gradual infiltration during the Qianyou period, the Great Han's penetration and influence over the Tibetan tribes had already lasted a full thirty years. This was the most patient game of chess Emperor Liu had ever played, and now it was time to bring it to a close.
In the past, the most important reason those Tibetan tribal chieftains had thrown in their lot with the court and accepted its titles and rewards was that the court guaranteed their interests and their governing authority.
On that basis, they could also obtain considerable benefits, fully enjoying the advantages of the tea-horse economic exchange. And as "registered personnel" of the court, they were protected by the court while also being able to reap predatory dividends in the campaigns against those "rebels and traitors." In short, apart from nominally becoming subjects of the Great Han and no longer being able to call themselves the state of Tibetans, they enjoyed all autonomous powers.
In the past, apart from the Tibetan Assembly, the court's direct involvement in Tibetan affairs had been limited to the several trade markets it had established, exerting influence through border trade, as well as the neighboring prefectures and counties that would be involved in the administration of Tibetan tribal subjects.
Within Lhasa city, there were indeed officials dispatched by the Court of Dependencies, but they merely occupied a nominal presence. The resident officials existed more as liaison officers and could not play the proper role of mediation, arbitration, or administration.
Speaking of the plateau, the impression of the ministers was that it was distant and obstructed, with a harsh environment and inconvenient governance. But even so, with Emperor Liu's vigorous desire for control, he ultimately could not tolerate the Great Han's rule over the plateau remaining forever in this rudimentary, loose autonomous state.
Direct administration might still be difficult, but on the current foundation, further deepening influence was certainly achievable. This task, Emperor Liu intended to entrust to Liu Xi.
Under Liu Xi's deep, contemplative gaze, Emperor Liu said slowly, "After this assembly concludes, you will remain stationed in Lhasa, serving as the Minister Resident to the Tibetans and Chief Minister, with full authority to handle Tibetan affairs!"
End of Chapter
