Chapter 34: In the Hall of Chongyuan

The Bian Palace was fortunate—under the ravaging iron hooves of the barbarian hordes, it was not destroyed by the flames of war, and was taken over entirely by the Khitan. Yet it was also somewhat unfortunate: the halls of the Central Plains, the jade towers and ornate pavilions, the carved beams and painted rafters, together with the beauties and palace maids kept within, all became the Liao sovereign's spoils of war, for his entertainment.

In the great hall of Chongyuan, orioles sang and swallows danced, sweet melodies drifted languidly, and the fragrance of powder and rouge permeated the air, intoxicating all who breathed it. The scene here was far more heated and intimate than that of the Prince of Yan's mansion, and the quality of the women was clearly a cut above the dancing girls there. The beauties Shi Chonggui had spent great effort collecting—once the state fell, they were all enjoyed by Yelu Deguang.

Upon the imperial throne sat a burly middle-aged man of heroic bearing, straddling the seat with thick brows and a long beard, his hair combed into a barbarian topknot, yet wearing a Han-style dragon robe, looking incongruous. This man was, naturally, the first emperor of the Great Liao—Yelu Deguang.

Holding a wine cup in hand, taking a sip from time to time, his face gleaming with lustful light as he admired the beauties in the hall, he looked every bit a man who had forgotten all thoughts of returning north. At this moment, Yelu Deguang seemed nothing like a wise and mighty sovereign; the splendid rivers and mountains of the Central Plains had truly sunk him into indulgence. Ever since entering the Bian Palace, Yelu Deguang had held a small banquet every three days and a great one every five, and even though he had already sensed that the realm of the Central Plains was not easy to sit upon, he still showed little change.

On the imperial desk lay a scattered pile of memorials and documents—bad news reported from various regions, remonstrances and admonitions from ministers—but Yelu Deguang did not seem to pay them much heed.

Below the crimson steps, there were also several square tables laden with fine delicacies, with both Hu and Han civil and military officials in attendance. Compared to the unbridled revelry of the barbarian generals, the few civil ministers looked considerably more gloomy. Yet one aged minister among them wore a remarkably calm expression.

This man was very old, with graying hair and beard, exuding an air of "caution" from head to toe. He sat there quietly, unlike the other civil ministers who looked sullen at the singing and dancing in the hall. Occasionally he would raise his cup in accompaniment, but only wet his lips and stop.

This old man was named Feng Dao, the famous un-toppable official of the Five Dynasties, having served the Tang and the Jin in succession—in every reign he held one of the Three Excellencies, and in every dynasty he was a general or chancellor. Even under Yelu Deguang, he was still respected and trusted. Counting them up, from Tang Zhuangzong Li Cunxu onward, and including Yelu Deguang, Feng Dao had already served three dynasties and seven sovereigns. Emperors came and went in rotation, but this chancellor of his never seemed to budge from his seat...

"Chancellor, the people of the realm are seething with indignation, yet within these palace walls it is singing and dancing day and night, music and revelry without end. If the Liao sovereign still wishes to hold the Central Plains for long, is that not a fool's dream?" Beside him, Commissioner of Military Affairs Li Song shook his head slightly, sighed, and pressed his voice as low as possible to voice his complaint, a note of disrespect already creeping into his tone.

Old as Feng Dao was, his ears remained sharp. Though the great hall was noisy, he had clearly heard Li Song's words. He raised his eyelids slightly, glanced at Yelu Deguang, who already had a beautiful woman seated in his lap, and only replied in a low voice: "Sir Li, mind your words!"

Afterward, his expression returned to normal, and he even greeted the Hu generals in the hall with a cordial countenance. Seeing Feng Dao's composed demeanor, Li Song swallowed the rest of his words. In the art of cultivating one's composure, he was still somewhat behind Feng Dao.

Though Feng Dao, Li Song, and the other old ministers and chancellors of the Later Jin were treated favorably by Yelu Deguang, in truth they were still targets of oppression by the barbarian generals and ministers. In the new Liao, they lived under someone else's roof, and on ordinary days could only huddle together for warmth and console one another.

Take the two of them, for instance—former chancellors of the previous dynasty, with considerable family wealth. Under Yelu Deguang's decree to extort money, they too had been stripped of no small amount of property. In fact, among all the surrendered Later Jin generals and ministers, both civil and military, only Du Chongwei and Li Shouzhen had not been forced to donate or lend, exempted by Yelu Deguang's special edict; none of the rest escaped.

By now, Yelu Deguang had not only lost the hearts of the common people—even these already-submitted Later Jin ministers were growing estranged and resentful. Among the Han ministers in this very hall, apart from the Director of the Chancellery Zhang Li, who had long since thrown in with the Khitan, there was probably not a single one without ulterior motives.

Feng Dao's old eyes were dim, and he wore a harmless, innocuous look, but hearing the decadent music in the hall, his heart was not as calm as his appearance suggested.

As a chancellor who had served successive dynasties, even Yelu Deguang admired his reputation and treated him as an honored guest—this was not something an ordinary man could achieve. Playing it safe was merely his outward show; his intelligence, wisdom, ability, and insight were his true means of survival.

Feng Dao was already past sixty, and having weathered the treacherous seas of officialdom through this chaotic age without falling, he had long since seen through the ways of the world. With his far-reaching vision, he could naturally see that the Khitan's harsh governance was growing ever more brutal, the realm was seething, and the Liao sovereign showed no intention of changing course—he could not possibly hold the Central Plains for long.

At the same time, judging by Yelu Deguang's attitude and behavior these past days, he probably had no intention of staying long either. His peripheral vision sweeping toward Yelu Deguang, who was flirting with a beauty on the throne, Feng Dao's mind began to churn, his old eyes nearly narrowing into slits.

A wily old fox like him would not fail to think of an escape route. Not fearing for his life so much as dreading being controlled by the Khitan, he was almost certain that if the Khitan withdrew back to the northern lands, they would not let go of old ministers of the Jin like them—being dragged north was a certainty...

He had been pondering a way to extricate himself for some days now, but the more he thought and deliberated, the more helpless he felt. After all, they were merely literati, with no soldiers or generals under their command. Under the watchful eyes of the barbarian soldiers and generals, how could it be so easy?

"I wonder, can Lord Liu truly succeed? He should be able to, right..."

While Feng Dao was silently deliberating, a eunuch stepped briskly into the hall, and upon reaching the imperial presence, reported to Yelu Deguang with downcast eyes: "Your Majesty, the Prince of Yan has arrived!"

"Oh, the Prince of Yan is here?" Yelu Deguang moved his hand away from the jade-like buttocks he had been fondling, released the Bian Palace consort he had been toying with, and said in a full, resonant voice: "Bid him come up to the hall at once!"

Before long, Zhao Yanshou stepped into the hall, taking in all the beauties at a glance. He suppressed the urge to look longer, his complexion ruddy but unable to hide his drunkenness. Before Yelu Deguang, Zhao Yanshou did not dare show the resentment he harbored in private, and stepped forward to pay his respects with great deference.

"The Prince of Yan need not stand on ceremony! Come closer and drink a few cups with Us!" Yelu Deguang glanced at Zhao Yanshou, his flushed face seeming full of goodwill as he called out: "Someone, bring a seat!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

A seat at the imperial desk, food bestowed—at least on the surface, Yelu Deguang's favor toward Zhao Yanshou remained undiminished. After drinking several cups with Yelu Deguang, the wine emboldened him, and Zhao Yanshou plucked up his courage to ask bluntly: "Your servant was at home when he heard Your Majesty's urgent summons and hurried to the palace. May I ask what matter Your Majesty has called me for?"

Zhao Yanshou's question was somewhat rude, but Yelu Deguang appeared magnanimous, waving his hand to signal a halt to the dance and music. The hall fell silent, and the attending civil and military officials all turned to look.

With a light "clap," Yelu Deguang set down his wine cup and said to Zhao Yanshou: "That former rebel general at Shanzhou killed Our envoy and rejected Our goodwill. Tong Pass has reported that he intends to march east. That false emperor Liu Zhiyuan in Hedong has also made his move, sending troops south to Luzhou—Geng Chongmei may not be able to hold out..."

"What does Your Majesty mean?" Hearing Yelu Deguang say this, a flicker of excitement rose unbidden in Zhao Yanshou's heart. Could it be that he intended to let him lead troops to oppose them? Looking at Yelu Deguang with some anticipation, Zhao Yanshou had already made up his mind—once he regained command of the army, he would never let it go easily...

As if reading Zhao Yanshou's thoughts, the "divine light" on Yelu Deguang's face dimmed slightly, and he said with a knowing smile: "Against the enemy in Hedong, We have already dispatched three circuits of military governors, yet We still worry there may be losses. Next, We must devote all Our strength to campaigning against Liu Zhiyuan, and will have no energy to spare for those petty scoundrels in Guanzhong..."

Hearing this, Zhao Yanshou was about to volunteer himself, when Yelu Deguang's words took a turn: "We have heard that the Prince of Yan's son, Yuanfu, is very clever and has been at the Prince of Yan's side for many years. We wish to appoint him Military Governor of Hezhong, to guard the interior of the passes for Us, and to assist in defending Heyang."

"This..." Zhao Yanshou was stunned for a moment, staring at Yelu Deguang: "My son is young and immature; I fear he cannot bear such a heavy responsibility."

Zhao Yanshou's son, Zhao Kuangzan, courtesy name Yuanfu, was in his early twenties. On an ordinary day, being granted a military governorship for his son would have Zhao Yanshou kowtowing in gratitude. But now, Zhao Yanshou knew full well that the territory of Hezhong would not be peaceful. If the Hedong army marched south, they might well take that very route, and he had no wish to send his beloved son into danger.

Yelu Deguang waved his hand dismissively: "Yuanfu is a young hero and can take on the task. We have heard that the commander of the Hedong army marching south to Luzhou is Liu Zhiyuan's son, no more than seventeen years old. Yuanfu surely cannot be inferior to such a mere boy..."

Zhao Yanshou still wanted to refuse, but facing Yelu Deguang's gradually chilling gaze, he opened his mouth, and with a stifled sense of grievance, replied: "Your servant thanks Your Majesty for the grace."

"Excellent!" Yelu Deguang laughed heartily: "Come, let Us toast the Prince of Yan!"

The dance resumed, the music played once more, but Zhao Yanshou's mood grew even more gloomy. He realized once again, with painful clarity, that he no longer seemed to hold much value to Yelu Deguang. Sweeping his gaze over the Han ministers in the hall, he sneered inwardly, like a dog that had fallen out of favor...