Chapter 85: The Death of the Liao Emperor

"Quack! Quack!" Inside the imperial tent, Yelu Deguang raged as usual, his scattered hair framing a face twisted in pain. He hurled a pack of "ice bags" that had long lost their chill to the ground, his eyes filled with cruelty as he glared at the two medical officers kneeling in the tent: "Apart from this useless water bag, can you think of no other method?"

Over this period of time, even Yelu Deguang, who understood little of medical theory, had come to realize that something was wrong with his body. At first it had merely been unbearable heat and restlessness, which he had attributed to being unaccustomed to the southern climate and its waters and soil. But as time passed, he had the army's medical officers treat him—unfortunately, not only did he fail to improve, he grew steadily worse. By the time he reached Luancheng, Yelu Deguang was already mentally and physically exhausted.

Yelu Deguang's illness manifested as "alternating chills and fever," with extreme heat having given rise to cold. The medical officers he found were all barbarian physicians, and to resolve the problem of his raging "internal fire," they mostly employed the Khitan's traditional therapy—the "ice compress method."

Essentially, they gathered ice over the chest, abdomen, hands, feet, and armpits to treat his fever. But this approach treated the symptoms rather than the root cause—it could relieve momentary suffering but could not eradicate the illness, and it carried significant side effects. By now, Yelu Deguang's condition had deteriorated, and it was deteriorating rapidly.

Under such circumstances, Yelu Deguang was naturally furious, while the two Khitan medical officers were at their wit's end. The "ice compress to reduce fever" method was the accumulated experience of Khitan physicians and common folk in their years of struggle against naturally occurring febrile illnesses—it had always worked, and it was nothing unusual in the southern lands either. Who would have thought that applied to Yelu Deguang, it would not only fail to work but actually produce the opposite effect...

Facing the Liao Emperor's rebuke, the two medical officers were terrified and at a complete loss, able only to repeatedly beg forgiveness and admit their own incompetence.

"Worthless! What use is keeping you?" Yelu Deguang's murderous intent was strong, his bloodshot eyes not blinking once as he coldly ordered the guards: "Drag them out of the camp and behead them!"

He gave the two medical officers no chance to plead—and of course, begging for mercy would have been useless. Soon enough, the two medical officers had lost their lives.

The men were killed, but Yelu Deguang's pain showed not the slightest relief. Lying on the barbarian couch, he gradually felt himself growing feverish and delirious. To suppress his body's high heat, he still had to continue using the useless "ice bags."

It was only on the suggestion of a palace eunuch that Yelu Deguang decided to try Han medicine. In the army, there were quite a few imperial physicians who had originally served in the Bian Palace, and an old Han physician was quickly found.

The moment an expert makes a move, one knows whether they have skill. The imperial physician was very old, clearly the type of healer with rich "clinical experience." He performed a full examination of Yelu Deguang—observing, listening, inquiring, and taking the pulse—and under the close watch of the guards and close ministers, applied several needles to Yelu Deguang, which actually brought some relief.

Lying prone on the barbarian bed, even Yelu Deguang's "groans of misery" sounded far more comfortable. Several silver needles still stuck in his bare back, sweat pouring wildly from his head and body, he tilted his head and squinted at the imperial physician who was writing out his prescription, praising him: "Just a few needles, and such miraculous effect! Is this acupuncture truly so wondrous? Your surname is Wang, isn't it? I must reward you heavily!"

The old imperial physician cautiously gave thanks, not daring the slightest carelessness—before entering the tent, he had clearly seen the two pools of blood in front of the imperial camp. The Liao Emperor on the couch was a violent master now.

Handing the prescription respectfully to the eunuch, the old imperial physician admonished Yelu Deguang: "Your Majesty's febrile illness stems from emotional disturbance causing qi movement to be blocked, stagnation transforming into heat, compounded by being unaccustomed to the Central Plains' heat and contracting external pestilent qi—hence this condition. The medical officers' earlier ice compresses to reduce fever had some effect, but the ice chilled the muscles and bones, causing the pathogenic qi to lurk within. With no outlet for the evil qi, the illness lingers on."

"This old man's silver needles have opened the acupoints and somewhat eased Your Majesty's suffering, but you still need medication and quiet rest. From now on, Your Majesty should not think too much, worry excessively, tax your spirit, or give way to anger, and..." He hesitated slightly, glanced at the beautiful maids and consorts waiting at his side, then added: "It would be best to keep away from women..."

Having heard the old imperial physician out, Yelu Deguang retorted directly: "Everything else, I can listen to you on. But this matter of women—that is not acceptable. I am afflicted with a heat illness, and women belong to yin, which is precisely the principle of taking women to drain fire and dispel heat. According to your Han saying, yin and yang complement each other—that is the supreme principle of heaven and earth. What logic is there in keeping away from women!"

Hearing Yelu Deguang's reasoning, the old physician wisely fell silent. The extra words he had spoken were merely to fulfill his duty and preserve his own life. As for admonishing this Liao Emperor—he had no such troublesome thoughts.

Shouldering his medicine satchel and exiting the imperial tent, the old imperial physician let out a heavy sigh of relief as he stepped through the tent flap. He looked back once, a faint inscrutable expression crossing his face, then shook his head and withdrew. He went to collect his reward, and this time he was not sent back to that chaotic, filthy place—a clean little tent was found nearby for him to rest in, so that Yelu Deguang could summon him at any time.

As for Yelu Deguang, after this round of treatment, his fever indeed gradually subsided. Though he still felt heat toxins accumulated within his body, it was no longer as unbearable as before. His energy had recovered to its best state in recent days—indeed, his body felt somewhat aroused.

In the two days since making camp at Luancheng, because his illness had worsened, Yelu Deguang had been forced to abstain from women—even if he had the desire, he lacked the strength. But now that he had improved somewhat, that restless heart could no longer be suppressed. He was not being hypocritical; he truly believed what he had told the imperial physician—that the gentleness of women, like water, could relieve the heat and violence within him.

Indulgence in lust, especially with a fever afflicting the body, brought consequences that came quickly and severely. That very night, in the midst of wielding his whip and riding hard, Yelu Deguang suddenly vomited blood, went into shock, and lost consciousness. Within a short time, he was at death's door. Panic erupted everywhere; the old imperial physician was hastily summoned, and after a strenuous rescue effort, Yelu Deguang was finally pulled back from the brink of death.

It was not until the afternoon of the following day that Yelu Deguang finally awoke from his coma. He looked extraordinarily weak, turning his head to see, through dim and blurry eyes, a host of Khitan nobles, ministers, and generals kneeling from before his couch all the way out of the tent...

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" Seeing Yelu Deguang awake, the crowd crawled forward on their knees, calling out excitedly, putting on a great show of loyalty.

The scene was somewhat chaotic, and it was only under Yelu Ruan's sharp rebuke that order was restored. For the first time, Yelu Deguang felt how frail his body had become—every movement was so heavy. Before it had been heat; this time, the inner fire had been discharged, and now his whole body was filled with a cold, yin sensation. A penetrating chill kept seeping into his skin, making him shiver involuntarily.

Looking at the scene before his imperial couch, Yelu Deguang felt a sense of seeing through everything. His gaze lingered on Yelu Ruan for a moment. He raised his hand with difficulty and coldly snapped at the assembled ministers: "What are you all kneeling here for? I have merely a slight indisposition—nothing serious. All of you, withdraw and steady the army's morale!"

"Yes!"

The ministers withdrew, their expressions varied, while Yelu Ruan and a few others could hardly conceal a hint of something unusual on their faces. Yelu Ruan's heart stirred with ripples—in the brief time Yelu Deguang had been unconscious, he had become the backbone of the entire army. He had also already questioned the imperial physician: the Emperor's illness would be hard to survive.

Everyone knew Yelu Deguang had fallen ill, but no one had imagined it would worsen so rapidly in just two or three days, nearly costing him his life. Truly, illness strikes like a collapsing mountain.

As for Yelu Deguang, after dismissing the ministers, he could no longer conceal his weakness. Though his frailty had long been apparent to all. At this moment, Yelu Deguang's face was full of aged weariness, though his eyes remained sharp and intimidating—like a tiger or bear that had lost its fangs.

He rested for a long while, and by evening, Yelu Deguang had strangely improved considerably. His body slowly recovered its energy, like a spring of sweet water pouring into parched earth. But Yelu Deguang inexplicably felt a pang of dread in his heart.

Earlier, his Imperial Younger Brother (Heir) Yelu Lihu, left behind in Shangjing, had sent an envoy south to inquire about matters, and no reply had yet been sent. Feeling a stirring in his heart, Yelu Deguang summoned several ministers.

"Send an envoy back to Shangjing to report to the Imperial Younger Brother (Heir)! Record this!" Lamps had already been lit in the tent. Leaning back against his pillow, Yelu Deguang spoke slowly in a sickly, weak voice:

"At first, with two hundred thousand troops, I accepted the surrender of Du Chongwei and Zhang Yanze, and took Zhenzhou. Upon entering Bian, I reviewed the officials and staff—those who were superfluous I abolished, those of talent I appointed. Though the government offices remain, the officials have grown lax and degenerate, like a nest left empty after the fledglings have flown. After long years of chaos and upheaval, it has come to this. Bandits and brigands gather everywhere, public works never cease, provisions arrive at irregular times, and the people can bear no more. Hedong has not yet submitted, and the chieftains of the western route have also formed alliances among themselves. Thinking day and night on how to control this, there are but three methods: to treat the officials with sincerity, to harmonize the army's sentiments, and to soothe and comfort the common people. Now, seventy-six places have submitted, yielding one million ninety-one thousand one hundred and eighteen households. Were it not for Bian's scorching heat and inhospitable climate, within a single year, peace could be achieved at the wave of a hand. Moreover, I have renamed Zhenzhou as the Central Capital, in preparation for imperial tours. As for attacking Hedong, I shall wait and plan separately. This is the gist of it."

"Your Majesty!" After the recording was complete, Zhang Li and the other ministers prostrated themselves directly, weeping: "Please take care of your health!"

Yelu Deguang's reply carried a faint undertone of arranging matters for after his death. Ignoring these men, he waved his hand to signal them to withdraw.

Later in the evening, he managed to eat a little food, but vomited it all back up. Yelu had lost his appetite. He ordered his men to carry him out of the imperial tent, and he curled up in a reclining chair, gazing up at the ink-black night sky.

It had been a long time since he had seriously appreciated the night sky. Points of starlight entered his eyes, Yelu Deguang's thoughts drifted, and his eyes gradually grew vacant.

"What day is it today? What month?" Yelu Deguang suddenly asked, his voice sunken and listless.

"Your Majesty, it is the seventeenth day of the fourth month," the palace eunuch replied.

"In the space of a single month, to come to this. Such is the impermanence of the world."

"Back then, I told the Jin ministers: the affairs of China, I know them all! Now it seems, in the annals of history to come, I fear I shall be mocked."

"Liu Zhiyuan is fortunate indeed—my southern campaign destroyed the Jin, yet it benefited this man! Were it not for me, he would hardly have what he has today."

"I wonder if I can still return to Shangjing... Must I, like my elder brother, die in a foreign land..."

He muttered in a voice no one else could hear, blowing cold air into the night, but his mind did not clear. Slowly, Yelu Deguang's eyes closed.

It was a long while before the palace eunuch discovered that the Liao Emperor had died. Just as in history—a sudden acute illness, a sudden death!