Chapter 434: The Sleeping King Takes the Throne

As the sky began to lighten, the area around the imperial camp was already a sea of blood, corpses strewn across the fields, the stench of blood thick in the air, mingled with the reek of scorched flesh. Because of the great fire, the surrounding area had been reduced to bare ground, grass and trees turned to ash, with many Khitan soldiers burned alive. Gazing out, the ground was scarred and ravaged, the misery of it enough to make one gasp.

After a night of fierce fighting, the rebel army led by Yelu Chage had been reduced to fewer than three thousand men, with heavy casualties, yet they still held the imperial camp tenaciously, fighting like cornered beasts. The remaining rebels and mutinous soldiers were either dead, scattered, or surrendered.

The army gathered by Yelu Wuzhi and the Prince of Shou'an, Yelu Jing, to suppress the rebellion had also suffered no small losses, for in the darkness of night, amid the chaotic melee, it was difficult to form an effective fighting force—and worse, some died at the hands of their own men...

The reason the rebels had been able to hold out so long was that in the latter half of the night, Yelu Wuzhi had calmed down and deliberately relaxed the assault, focusing on siege and encirclement instead. These were all soldiers and warriors of the Great Liao—they should not suffer more casualties for the ambitions of a few.

Many of the Khitan's "drunken generals" had died confusedly in the chaos of battle; some, half-awake, managed to hold their positions; others simply joined the rebellion to vent their frustrations; and some only now, groggily, began to realize what had happened.

But upon learning of the mutiny at the main camp, grasping the situation and the lay of the land, and making contact with Yelu Jing and Yelu Wuzhi, most led their troops over to besiege the rebels and rescue the emperor.

The overall situation was settled, and looking at the devastation around them, the wounds suffered by the great army were plain to see. Eyes bloodshot and burning with hatred, Yelu Wuzhi nearly ground his teeth to powder.

Suppressing the fierce rage in his chest with great effort, he led his men on another circuit around the imperial camp, his nostrils filled with nauseating stench, his eyes met with scenes straight out of a hellish slaughterhouse. He had experienced many wars and seen crueler sights, but to see so many of his own people lying dead filled him with all the more fury.

The sky grew brighter, the light stronger, and Yelu Wuzhi knew it was time to put a complete end to this upheaval. He pulled hard on the reins, his sturdy horse let out a long neigh, and galloped off.

Yelu Wuzhi found Yelu Jing. The young Prince of Shou'an wore a suit of silver armor with a yellow robe draped over his shoulders, and Yelu Wuzhi vaguely saw in him the image of Emperor Taizong, Yelu Deguang, in his youth.

Yelu Jing also looked exhausted, and was in discussion with a group of Khitan generals. Seeing Yelu Wuzhi, he immediately greeted him: "The Xiangwen has arrived!"

"Great King, it is time to completely put an end to this rebellion!"

Looking at Yelu Wuzhi, Yelu Jing said: "If it were up to me, I would attack directly and annihilate Chage and his band of traitors in one stroke. But the Xiangwen would not allow it, and the rebels are holding fast—so what are we to do?"

"Your servant has concerns!" Gazing at the imperial camp, Yelu Wuzhi said in a low voice: "Chage and his men are at the end of their rope, yet they still resist so stubbornly. Nor have they used His Majesty and the Empress to threaten us. This is highly unusual. I fear..."

"Fear what?" Yelu Jing asked in puzzlement.

"Let us hope it is not so!" Yelu Wuzhi shook his head, took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and said: "Send more soldiers to circle the camp and call on them to surrender!"

Soon, over a hundred Pishi cavalry were riding around the camp, shouting aloud, addressing the ordinary officers and soldiers of the rebels, saying that Yelu Chage and his men had rebelled, and that it had nothing to do with them—that in suppressing the rebellion and exterminating the traitors, only the ringleaders would be executed. Any soldier who laid down his weapons and surrendered would be spared death and absolved of guilt.

This tactic of attacking morale was highly effective, especially against Hu barbarians. Soon people began throwing down their weapons and fleeing out of the camp. Once someone took the lead, it quickly became a rout, and even Yelu Chage's orders to shoot them down could not stop it.

Knowing full well that death was certain, and with all his claws and fangs stripped away, he still refused to surrender. The remaining few dozen death-sworn men were cut down by the Pishi Army troops who burst in.

When they charged into the imperial tent, they found that Yelu Chage and several rebel generals were already dead, seemingly having killed each other. The palace eunuchs and female attendants before the emperor had mostly been brutally slaughtered, the horror of it shocking. And Yelu Chage himself sat in the emperor's golden throne, a ghastly knife wound across his neck, his eyes wide open in death.

"A wolf's ambition!" Cursing angrily, Yelu Wuzhi led his men to urgently search for the emperor and empress.

And then—what one fears most is what comes—in the inner tent, they discovered that the Khitan emperor and both empresses had all been cut down by the rebels' blades...

The news could not be concealed, and cries of grief gradually spread through the ruined camp. No matter what, he was the emperor, and the morale of the people and the army suffered a heavy blow.

Within five years, they had already lost two emperors, both during southern campaigns—and this time, they had not even achieved victory before disaster struck.

It took an entire day to reorganize the southern expeditionary forces, clear away the corpses, and re-establish the camp. And the losses from this upheaval, once tallied, gradually came to light.

Over thirteen thousand corpses were found, and those with light or heavy injuries likewise numbered over ten thousand. Counting the soldiers who gradually returned after the rebellion was quelled, the southern expeditionary army was left with only a little over seventy thousand men.

And the Pishi Army, the Khitan's main force, along with the elite troops of the Supreme Capital, had also suffered grievous losses, damaging their very foundation and vitality. Had the Khitan army not pitched camp in a dispersed manner rather than concentrating too tightly, and had Yelu Wuzhi and the others not taken decisive measures, the losses would have been even greater.

Before even passing through the passes, they had already lost three-tenths of their troops, and lost the emperor and empresses as well. This southern campaign was indeed ill-omened.

Within the imperial tent, a simple memorial hall had been hastily erected, with a spirit tablet for Yelu Ruan set up, and his body placed in a coffin.

The remaining Khitan nobles, generals, and ministers gathered together, sobbing filling the tent—though the sounds, it must be said, seemed somewhat perfunctory.

Unlike the others, Yelu Wuzhi's grief came genuinely from the heart. Toward those rebels who had risen up and slain their sovereign, Yelu Wuzhi's feelings at this moment could almost be described as wanting to "eat their flesh and sleep on their hides."

In Yelu Wuzhi's view, though Yelu Ruan was not the equal of the Founding Ancestor or Taizong, he had still been a qualified Khitan emperor. At the time, his succession had been recognized by Empress Dowager Shulu and the various clans and nobles, and was in accordance with the legitimate line of succession.

Though in governance he had been somewhat overly idealistic and hasty in his actions, that was the mark of a ruler with ambition. Internal contradictions could still be mediated and resolved through mutual compromise.

But Yelu Chage and his ilk, for their own lust for power and private gain, had brazenly staged a mutiny, disregarding the greater interests of the state, causing such heavy casualties among the soldiers. So many fine young men—how long would it take to train up new ones—yet they were wasted here for nothing.

Yelu Chage and his men were truly traitors to the state!

Beyond his fury, Yelu Wuzhi also felt a sense of frustration at Yelu Ruan's failure to guard against this. He had long sensed Chage's disloyalty and had repeatedly warned him, yet Yelu Ruan had taken no precautions, instead entrusting him with authority and placing him at his very bosom. What more could he have done?

At the same time, he felt deeply self-reproachful. He had been negligent. Knowing Chage harbored ill intent, why had he not strengthened his defenses, leading to this rebellion...

Setting aside the turmoil in Yelu Wuzhi's heart, the mournful demeanor of the nobles and ministers in the imperial tent did not last long.

"Now that the Emperor has been murdered by the rebels, with heavy losses to our troops, wavering morale, and the realm sure to become unstable—what are we to do?" A minister spoke up.

"The southern campaign can be abandoned. Under these circumstances, going to fight the Han is no different from seeking death. In my view, the Great Liao cannot be without an emperor. Choosing someone to succeed to the throne and stabilizing the state is the most important matter at hand!" Another noble rose and added: "The news of this rebellion cannot be hidden for long—it has already begun spreading to the surrounding areas. If we delay too long, the realm will surely descend into chaos!"

The words of these two men struck a chord, but at the same time, a gleam of eagerness appeared in many eyes.

The Huoshen Dian Incident had killed so many ministers and generals, leaving many positions vacant. If one could help install an emperor, then power, status, and wealth would all be within reach. Even among the Khitan, there was no business more profitable than seizing the state.

Listening to the discussions around him, Yelu Wuzhi snapped back to himself, regaining his calm and composure. He understood all too well the petty schemes of the nobles in the tent, yet he also agreed with their opinions.

Lifting his head, his gaze unconsciously fell upon the Prince of Shou'an, Yelu Jing—only to see the lad kneeling there, looking half-asleep, seemingly oblivious to the noise in the tent.

At this, Yelu Wuzhi was inwardly astonished. His eyes rolled, he thought for a moment, and could not help but sigh inwardly—truly a son of Taizong, to remain so composed and unruffled amid such a great upheaval and such circumstances.

Many people looked toward Yelu Wuzhi. From his performance in quelling the rebellion, he had already won over quite a few.

Taking a deep breath, under the gaze of the crowd, Yelu Wuzhi rose, walked to Yelu Jing's side, knelt, and said: "Prince of Shou'an, the late emperor led the army south on campaign, but encountered this great calamity—a misfortune for the state. Now the great army is abroad, camped at the border, with hearts and minds in turmoil. For the sake of the state, a new sovereign must be established to stabilize the overall situation. At present, among this army, in terms of status, position, and ability, only the Prince of Shou'an can bear this heavy responsibility!"

"What do you all think?" Yelu Wuzhi turned and asked, and all present voiced their assent.

And at this moment, Yelu Jing seemed to wake from a daze, nodded his head, and answered: "Mm."

Seeing this, Yelu Wuzhi and the others immediately bowed in unison, paying homage to the new emperor, crying out "Long live!"

Yelu Jing, seeing this scene, still had a somewhat dazed look in his eyes. He paused for a moment, then a faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth—there and gone in an instant.

With an emperor in place, the Khitan army once again had a pillar of strength. With the support of Yelu Wuzhi and others, the new emperor Yelu Jing received the army's homage. Afterward, they held discussions within the tent to plan for what came next.

The southern campaign was decisively abandoned—the smooth transfer of power was the foremost priority. The late emperor had perished in rebellion, and with a new sovereign enthroned, stabilizing the domestic situation and reassuring the people must come first.

On Yelu Wuzhi's advice, Liao Emperor Yelu Jing dispatched envoys far and wide to announce the emperor's death and the new emperor's succession.

He also reorganized the army, assigned generals, and sent trusted officers to lead troops back to the Supreme Capital, the Central Capital, and various key strongholds across the realm—both to spread the news and to control and suppress any unrest.

At the same time, an edict was sent to Yelu Anbo at Tanzhou, ordering him to contract his forces and shift from offense to defense. After holding a memorial ceremony for Yelu Ruan and his two empresses at Huoshen Dian, Yelu Jing escorted their coffins eastward, heading directly for Tanzhou.

On the eastern front, there were still tens of thousands of elite Khitan troops. They needed to be made aware of the new emperor's authority, won over, and redeployed before the great army could return to the Supreme Capital. Otherwise, for Yelu Jing, if he could not secure Yelu Anbo's loyalty or bring him under control, the southern armies could become a hidden danger.

In fact, with the great army in hand, impeccable legitimacy by birth, and the merit of quelling the rebellion and managing the aftermath, Yelu Jing's succession would not draw much opposition from anyone. More importantly, shelving the southern campaign had directly won him the support of many nobles and tribesmen.

Yelu Wuzhi also made another suggestion to Yelu Jing: to send envoys south to make contact with the Han emperor, to discuss ending hostilities between the two states and restoring diplomatic relations.

With such a major crisis on their side, the Liu Han court was still mobilizing on a massive scale, preparing for war. Under these circumstances, for the Khitan, starting a war was absolutely out of the question.