Chapter 2149: Taizong Chronicles 17: Affairs of the Court of Dependencies

In the first year of Jianlong, mid-autumn of the eighth month, a grand imperial banquet—the most majestic and imposing since Emperor Liu Wenji ascended the throne—was held in the Qianyuan Hall of the Purple Micro Palace.

Of course, purely in terms of scale and splendor, it was far inferior to the many grand banquets of the Kangzong era, but the song-and-dance peace of the Kangzong period had never once elicited from the court's many civil officials and poets the commemorative verses and congratulatory works likening it to the flourishing scene of the Yongxi golden age.

In fact, from the end of that resplendent era during the reign of Taizong, through the eight years of indolent decline and chaos under Kangzong, it was not until the first year of Jianlong under the current Emperor Liu Wenji that the Great Han Empire truly stepped onto a proper track.

And with the rich foundation laid by previous generations (the deeds of Kangzong's eight-year reign could never have squandered the Great Han Empire's patrimony), once things returned to normal, another round of prosperity was already foreseeable—indeed, the results came quickly. In the very first year of Jianlong, across the entire realm, the many circuits, prefectures, armies, and counties under the empire's jurisdiction all displayed a thriving developmental momentum. This was also why Liu Wenji had the confidence to hold a celebratory imperial banquet in the Qianyuan Hall this mid-autumn.

Luoyang, the Court of Dependencies, the Hall of Pacifying the Distant.

Behind the wide official desk, Xu Chang Prince Liu Yao sat upright, his gaze calm and his expression composed as he reviewed reports on affairs from both within and outside the empire. During the Mid-Autumn holiday (as one of the empire's five great festivals, per the leave regulations, officials were entitled to ten days of Mid-Autumn leave. The empire's leave system was divided into public leave and private leave, and if an official took all of both, in theory he could rest 120 days per year), most of the court's various agencies maintained only basic operations, which naturally led to a great accumulation and delay of official business.

As Director of the Secretariat of the Great Han, with real authority to co-manage the Court of Dependencies, Liu Yao's desk naturally could not avoid a mountain of accumulated documents. Of course, with the satisfaction that power brings as a foundation, even the heaviest official business was merely nourishment for a fulfilling life.

The Court of Dependencies was an agency established long ago, but among the many ministries and bureaus of the Great Han's central government, its rank was not high, and it was often overlooked. Yet the real power it wielded far exceeded what ordinary people could imagine.

After nearly sixty years of development, compared to its somewhat hastily constructed framework in the early days of its founding, the Court of Dependencies had grown into an extremely vast, complex, and far-reaching major ministry.

Its real authority was heavy, and its scope of duties extremely broad, especially after Shizu enfeoffed the various princes on a grand scale. One should know that within the Great Han Empire's governing system, anything involving ethnic groups, religion, vassal states, diplomacy, border security, economics, taxation, tribute, trade—anything touching on foreign affairs, ethnic matters, or religious affairs—the Court of Dependencies could manage.

In the present age, when Liu-surnamed clan princes were conquering the world and the various great vassal states were flourishing vigorously, the power the Court of Dependencies held, and its influence over the court, far exceeded what the Collected Statutes and Court Regulations prescribed and granted.

And because he held the Court of Dependencies in his hands, as the clan representative who became chancellor by virtue of the Directorship of the Secretariat, Liu Yao's power at court was also very heavy. Of course, this also benefited from the support of Emperor Liu Wenji, and what Liu Wenji needed was precisely to use the Court of Dependencies as a platform to carry out effective reforms and redefinitions of relations with the various vassal states.

The document Liu Yao was reviewing at this moment, however, made him frown deeply. It was none other than a report from Zeng Hui of the Liaodong Circuit, stating that the Wanyan tribe of the Jurchen had caused disturbances, that barbarian tribesmen had harassed the borders, and that prefectures and counties were unsettled. Matters involving the Jurchen of the northeast naturally required the Court of Dependencies to look into them.

Of course, barbarian disturbances, even riots and rebellions, were nothing rare or unusual in the Great Han Empire. Since Liu Yao had taken charge of the Court of Dependencies, he had grown accustomed to such things; they were hardly surprising.

But the matter of the Wanyan Jurchen was different. Not only did it have deep ties with the Great Han Empire, having received a grant of enfeoffment from Emperor Shizu, it was also connected behind the scenes to the State of Andong—and once the State of Andong was involved, the situation naturally became complicated.

As the enfeoffment of Andong and the great northeast development program continued to advance, unknowingly, the century-long plan for developing the northeast that Emperor Shizu had formulated back then was already nearly half complete, and the entire history and development of the northeast had undergone earth-shaking changes.

The State of Andong, after more than forty years of management by Liu Xu and his father across two generations, standing tall and mighty in the northeast, needed no further elaboration. Narrowing the view somewhat, take the development of the Wanyan Jurchen: this Jurchen tribe, which fished, hunted, and labored in the border region between Liaodong and Andong, had already been thoroughly tamed as early as the late Kaibao period through the many methods of Qin Prince Liu Xu.

Today's Wanyan tribe was an important component of the Andong governance system. In Andong's military and civil administration, Wanyan-surnamed civil and military officials were not few. As for the Wanyan tribe itself, its population still remained at around one hundred thousand (the surplus population had been registered into households and established into prefectures and counties by Liu Xu and his father, directly incorporated into Andong's military-civil governance system), and moreover, the degree of Sinicization was already very high. Han culture, etiquette, and customs had penetrated deeply among them, and even their mode of production had become half farming, half herding.

Such changes—whether beneficial or harmful for the empire and Andong—were still hard to judge. But as a great tribe that had once, in orthodox history, pried open and shifted the entire course of East Asian history, the profound changes occurring within it also truthfully reflected the enormous turning of the world's trajectory under the era of the Great Han Empire.

In recent years, besides expanding northward, the State of Andong's infiltration and development of the Liaodong Circuit had been almost instinctive, employing no few overt and covert means. And the Wanyan Jurchen, distributed along the border regions between the Liaodong Circuit and the State of Andong, had been extremely active and aggressive—indeed, it could be said plainly that the Wanyan Jurchen were the vanguard pawns of the State of Andong.

At the same time, there were many tribes like the Wanyan within the Andong system, mostly originating from those tribes that had stabbed Liao in the back on the northeastern battlefield during the second northern expedition. These people had all been driven by Emperor Shizu to be placed under the jurisdiction of the then Andong Protectorate-General.

Take the Wanyan tribe for example: in the earliest days, the Emperor had even promised to enfeoff Huanglong Prefecture to them, but in the end he went back on his word, only demarcating a large tract of land and water outside Ningjiang Prefecture (north of Huanglong Prefecture) for them to fish and hunt for survival. Moreover, to establish the seat of the Andong Protectorate-General, he had also occupied part of their tribal lands in the Yazi River basin (the lower section of the North Songhua River).

There was no helping it—even someone as confident as Shizu found "Jurchen + Wanyan" sufficiently stimulating, and with his consistently forceful style, he had made such arrangements.

If there was anything that truly exceeded Emperor Liu's expectations, it was probably Qin Prince Liu Xu's management of Andong. He had tamed and Sinicized one by one the many northeastern tribes, including the Wanyan, Dalugu, Tanggua, Nipanggu, and Tushan, truly establishing Han governance among these indigenous barbarian tribes, genuinely and profoundly transforming the northeastern region and changing northeastern history.

This process was destined to be difficult and extraordinary, requiring immense effort and perseverance. The finest years of Qin Prince Liu Xu's life, including his very life itself, were left on the black soil of the northeast. Why did Emperor Shizu love Liu Xu? Certainly because of the sentiment for his eldest son, because he "deeply resembled his father," but also because of the Qin Prince's twenty years of deeds in Andong—those hard-won battles, that unyielding perseverance, that solitary trudging forward—all of which had deeply moved Emperor Shizu.

In Emperor Shizu's eyes, to a certain extent, Qin Prince Liu Xu's deeds were just like his own—both were doing things that remade the age and changed history. This kind of "kindred spirit feeling" was extremely hard to find.

Of course, Emperor Shizu harbored such sentiments for all his sons, grandsons, and nephews who went out to pioneer and struggle, such as Wei Prince Liu Min, the later Liang Duke Liu Ye, including Liu Shu, Liu Xin, and Liu Chun among these sons and nephews. It was only that, as his eldest son, Qin Prince Liu Xu always received an extra measure of special regard.

For Xu Chang Prince Liu Yao at this moment, however, recalling these connections could not help but give him a headache. The mere Wanyan Jurchen might not be worth a sneer, but the State of Andong tightly linked behind them could not be treated without due caution. And in the current Great Han Empire, the State of Andong was also the vassal state most deserving of respect and careful handling.

After multiple contacts and conversations with Emperor Liu Wenji, Liu Yao's understanding of his task had gradually become clear—the Emperor had truly entrusted him with a heavy responsibility. However, to reform and adjust the clan-vassal system, to bring the central court and the vassal states at home and abroad back to a normal international relations framework, to change a habit that had persisted for nearly half a century—how could that be easy?

Shizu had set the tone, Taizong had made minor adjustments, and now it was Liu Wenji's turn to attempt major reforms—the difficulty had risen exponentially. But the Emperor's attitude also let Liu Yao feel a certain resoluteness. Of course, given the current strength of the central court, as long as those in power were determined, it could still be done—it was just that what kind of impact and consequences such changes would bring, no one knew.

But not changing was also impossible. As time passed, the various vassal states harbored resentment toward the court's "stinginess," while the court also felt awkward about the form of existence of the vassal states. Since everyone was unhappy, it was better to straighten out the relations, settle the accounts clearly, and let each side be at peace.

One should know that even the three Anxi states, which had fought bloody battles together with shared hatred for the enemy, had inevitably moved toward independence more than ten years ago—let alone the mother country and these daughter states.

And the wind of the Emperor's desire to reform and perfect the clan-vassal system had already been blowing both inside and outside the court for some time, garnering considerable discussion. On this matter, Liu Wenji had broad "popular support."

At the very least, after so many years of development, within the central court, the consensus that "the court cannot be the wet nurse of the vassal states" had already formed. And Liu Yao's feelings on this matter were somewhat more complex.

Standing from the court's position, he naturally had to support it, and he had already been supporting it with concrete actions. But Liu Yao was not only the Director of the Secretariat of the court—he also had a fief in the South Seas (enfeoffed by Taizong, located on Mindanao Island; the Philippines was essentially divided into three parts, shared among the three branches of Liu Ai, Liu Xuan, and Liu Yao). Although he had not managed it with much care, under the "era of vassal states," his branch had still reaped considerable benefits.

For a clan prince like Liu Yao, who was born late and of ordinary birth, when it came to vassal state matters, he very much needed support from the mother country. However, he only needed the court to let a few scraps slip through the cracks of its fingers, rather than, like those mature and developed great vassal states, always trying to pry the court's fingers completely open.

The Emperor's reform of the clan-vassal system would also harm Liu Yao's vassal state interests. However, compared to the fief in the South Seas, the grant of the Directorship of the Secretariat and the authority of the Court of Dependencies seemed to weigh somewhat heavier.

And to carry out reform, the State of Andong—the empire's number one vassal state—was a problem that could not be avoided at all. From historical legacies to geopolitical realities, this was predetermined.

Precisely because he understood this reasoning, the report from the Liaodong Circuit about the Wanyan Jurchen's border disturbances made Liu Yao cannot help but suspect whether the State of Andong was behind it, orchestrating the affair. He thought it must certainly be so—perhaps this was Andong's way of signaling its attitude to the court?

Liu Yao had very little contact with Liu Wenyuan, that "big nephew" of his, and many matters had only come to his understanding after he took charge of co-managing the Court of Dependencies. But even if Liu Wenyuan had always been restless, he would not dare to openly challenge the court's authority at this critical juncture. After all, this was no longer three or four years ago when Liu Wenji had just ascended the throne.

No matter how many speculations he had, Liu Yao already sensed that the State of Andong would likely become sensitive and troublesome again in the days ahead. But what lay before Liu Yao to solve first was the problem of the Wanyan tribe—that was the duty of the Court of Dependencies.

Liu Yao had also heard that Zeng Hui, the Administration Commissioner of Liaodong, had already submitted a memorial to the court on this matter, requesting that the court dispatch troops to exterminate those Jurchen barbarians who had invaded the borders and harassed the people, so as to awe the four barbarians and restore peace and order for the populace!

Zeng Hui had governed Liaodong for three years. Setting aside everything else, his reputation as a "hardliner" had been thoroughly established. Under his iron-fisted governance, the atmosphere of Liaodong's officialdom and populace had been greatly transformed, and the erosion from the State of Andong had been clearly checked.

No one had ever imagined that Zeng Hui—a civil official and old man from the south—could stir up such great waves in the north. And many of Zeng Hui's policies and methods had received mixed praise and criticism within the court, which was the inevitable public scrutiny that anyone who accomplished things must endure.

Liu Yao was not surprised by Zeng Hui's strong reaction and tough recommendation. However, following his approach—that was hardly about awing the various barbarians; it was plainly about slapping the face of the State of Andong. Zeng Hui had his considerations, and Liu Yao also had his own position.

Therefore, after deep deliberation, he took up a blank memorial sheet and quickly wrote down his handling recommendations regarding the "Wanyan tribe border disturbance incident." Based on Liu Yao's estimation, the Emperor was probably also waiting for his memorial to comprehensively weigh and decide.

From Zeng Hui to Liu Yao, and then to Emperor Liu Wenji, all in fact clearly understood what the problem behind the Wanyan tribe was. Therefore, the Wanyan tribe must receive a severe punishment. The court's attitude must be clear, explicit, and unambiguous: border violations must be punished, harm to the people must be investigated—this was a bottom-line issue that could not be breached.

Of course, in his memorial, Liu Yao also mentioned some problems of the State of Andong, and put forward recommendations to carry out stricter and more standardized rectification and management of the Liaodong-Andong border, turning chaos into order, and confusion into clarity.

On this matter, Liu Yao had still referenced an earlier recommendation from Zeng Hui. Feeling that the Liaodong-Andong border region was a chaotic mix of dragons and snakes, rife with evil forces, and disorderly in its intermingling, Zeng Hui had once suggested establishing a "buffer zone" along the border, with communication and exchange to be conducted only through a number of trade markets and trading posts opened along the route.

That memorial had aroused strong opposition from the Andong side. As for Liu Yao's recommendation, it was still a compromise solution with a conciliatory nature.