Chapter 608: The Ji Clan

In mid-seventh month of the thirty-third year of the First Emperor of Qin, the Korean prince Ji Zhun stood on the road to Manfanhan, his heart uneasy.

"Whatever they ask, so long as it is not excessive, you may grant it all. Do not give offense to the great state."

When he set out from Wangxian City, the King of Korea — Ji Zhun's father, Ji Fou — had so instructed him. This was also Korea's consistent attitude toward the Qin dynasty.

Word in the Central Plains had it that Ji-surnamed Korea was descended from Jizi, one of the Three Sages of Yin Shang. That was indeed the truth, but it was nothing like the "Hong Fan" records, which claimed that after Shang fell, Jizi went to court and paid homage to King Wu of Zhou and was thus enfeoffed. That was Zhou window-dressing and prettification; the reality was far less harmonious.

From the epic poems passed down orally in his family, Ji Zhun knew that eight hundred years ago, to escape the savage Zhou state that was brutally slaughtering the Yin people, Jizi led the people and troops of his fief northward, seeking refuge with the Guzhu state, which shared the Zi surname. But the Zhou people could not forget this "remnant disgrace" and sent the Duke of Shao on a northern campaign. They established the state of Yan in the Youzhou region and drove the Ji clan further out to Liaodong, while also requiring them to keep a son of the family permanently in Yan as a hostage.

This humiliating situation lasted until five hundred years ago, when Ji-surnamed Korea seized the opportunity of the Mountain Rong's great invasion of Yan to break free of Yan control and move further east, arriving at the lands east of the Yalu River. There, in this region where Yi and Hui peoples intermingled, they established a foothold, built walled cities, and carried on the civilization of Yin Shang.

After another twenty generations of accumulation, a hundred years ago, Korea's territory was broad, its population multiplying, and it had become the civilizational center of the peninsula, with the Yi and Hui tribes all coming to pay homage.

At that time, the Zhou house was in decline, and the Central Plains feudal lords ruled by force. That generation's Marquis of Korea was quite ambitious. Seeing that neighboring Yan had declared a king, the Marquis of Korea also styled himself king and went to war with Yan in Liaodong, hoping to seize that land.

The outcome was humiliating. Although Korea could thrash the surrounding Yi tribes, it was utterly routed by the Yan army, which was equipped with crossbows and cavalry. Not only did it fail to seize Liaodong, but the Yan army fought across the Yalu River, and Korea lost a full two hundred li of territory. In the end, it had to bend the knee and sue for peace, with both sides taking Manfanhan as the border.

That had happened seventy years ago, and as Ji Zhun thought of it now, it truly seemed as vivid as if it were before his eyes.

That war seventy years ago had made Ji-surnamed Korea recognize its own weakness. Yan was already the weakest of the Seven Powers, yet it was so mighty that Korea could not defeat it, and there were still four or five states in the Central Plains even more capable in battle...

Fortunately, King Zhao of Yan had ambitions in the Central Plains and had no interest in impoverished, harsh Korea, which was how Korea managed to escape the fate of annihilation.

But the changes of the era came faster than Korea had foreseen. All of a sudden, mighty Yan, in their eyes, was destroyed. Shortly after, Qi across the sea also fell. Yan and Qi nobles came in a steady stream as refugees, and they also brought with them a fearsome name: Qin!

Of Qin's might and Qin's brutality, Korea had heard plenty. When Manfanhan was occupied by Qin troops and the black Qin banners were raised, Korea dared not cross the border by half a step to "recover its former territory."

Although it greatly feared an invasion by the insatiably greedy Qin dynasty, Korea also did not wish to make contact with Qin.

Qin's ancestor Elai had been a servant and vassal of Yin Shang, yet now he was impressively the Son of Heaven of the Central Plains. The Korean nobles could not help feeling somewhat unbalanced in their hearts.

Within Korea, some hoped to trade with Qin, but others held that so long as Qin did not interfere with them, Korea should play deaf and dumb and make no move at all. That way, Qin, entrenched in the west, might have no time to bother with Korea in the extreme east, and Korea could thus preserve its hard-won "independence."

Looking back now, even Ji Zhun, who had supported that proposal at the time, felt he had been utterly foolish.

For the first ten years, the two sides indeed kept to themselves, but since the start of summer this year, merchant ships from Qin's Jiaodong had begun appearing ever more frequently in Korean waters. At first they came one by one, then three, five, seven at a time, and always appearing from the southern sea, rarely sailing from the north...

A new sea route had been opened. From Jiaodong to Korea, it had become as easy as turning over one's hand. The great sea that Korea had once regarded as a city wall had now become the most convenient thoroughfare for invading it.

The officials at Liekou had also noticed these unusual "merchant ships," but Korea's administration was inefficient, and before he could report to Wangxian City, dozens of warships with hulls painted black came breaking through the waves and blockaded the port of Liekou so tightly that not a drop of water could pass. They declared that Korea must send someone to parley with them.

Ji Fou was already old, and so this glorious mission fell upon the shoulders of the future lord, Ji Zhun.

Wangxian City and Liekou were barely a hundred li apart, both situated on the banks of the Lie River. Going downstream, one could reach it in half a day.

The closer he got to Liekou, the more barefoot refugees fleeing disaster Ji Zhun saw on both banks. Stopping the boat to ask them, they said that black-bannered, black-armored Qin men had already landed, seized the docks, controlled the city gates, forbidden entry and exit, and were forcibly conscripting Koreans to help unload grain from the ships.

When people around the town heard this, they feared being seized themselves and so fled one after another.

Ji Zhun did not know how he should comfort them. He could only grit his teeth and keep moving forward. The negotiations to come would determine the survival of Ji-surnamed Korea!

But even though Ji Zhun had mentally prepared himself amply, when he reached the mouth of the Lie River and saw the towered ships in the bay, larger even than Korean palaces, he could not help sucking in a breath of cold air!

If the ship Ji Zhun himself rode was just like a dolphin, then the Qin army's towered ships, painted black with lacquer, were like whales!

The largest of those towered ships was dozens of zhang long, its entire hull rectangular, built with a three-story tower structure. Its frame was immensely imposing, with hundreds of men active on it, and it was deployed with all manner of long- and short-range weapons.

The other side had also spotted Ji Zhun's ship. Three towered ships immediately turned their prows and, like several great mountains, bore down on him! Their sails were already furled; they sailed only by the flying spin of two hundred wooden oars, yet their speed was extreme. Those sharp rams seemed as if a touch would mean death, and the dozens of crossbows on the towered ships were also aimed at them from afar, making Ji Zhun's heart pound with terror!

"The Korean prince Ji Zhun comes to see the great Qin general!"

He hastily had his men raise high the "tally banner" at the ship's prow and shout to signal their intent.

Though the Ji clan had come from the Central Plains eight hundred years ago, their language had long since diverged greatly. When each side shouted, neither could understand the other; only through interpreters could it be relayed.

Fortunately, the meaning of the tally banner had not changed, and both sides had prepared interpreters. After a round of communication, once it was known that Korea had sent someone to negotiate, the crossbowmen on the towered ships put away their weapons and allowed Ji Zhun's ship to approach.

Ji Zhun adjusted his attire. From the look of things, he would have to board the ship to talk. He greatly feared being seized the moment he went up. After all, those refugees from Yan and Qi never had a good word to say about Qin. All they recounted was Qin's treachery, how it repeatedly detained opposing monarchs and chancellors, and how it fought like wolves and tigers, casting aside ritual propriety and prizing only severed heads...

But now that it had come to this, with Qin ships already at the city gates, he could only steel himself and go. Climbing a rope ladder was easier than climbing a cliff, after all.

The two ships drew alongside, each dropping anchor. A figure appeared at the edge of the towered ship, looking down at Ji Zhun from on high.

Ji Zhun looked up and made out that it was a teenage commander, ten or so years old, clad in black armor, his hair bunched to the right and bound with a headwrap. In battle, he would probably don a helmet.

The youth was none other than Hei Fu's nephew, Wei Yang. He was also studying Ji Zhun's attire with curiosity:

This Korean prince was nothing like a Qin prince, impeccably dressed. Instead, he resembled a Rong or Di barbarian, with braids combed on both left and right sides, the tips curled and hanging down to his shoulders, yet with a cap added on top of his head. His clothing was also somewhat different: there was a cover over his lower garment, and his jade pendant-ring hung at his chest rather than his waist, carved into the shape of a fish.

"Why is he dressed in such a manner?"

To Wei Yang and the others, this seemed somewhat neither fish nor fowl. They whispered among themselves, finding it amusing.

Looking again at Ji Zhun's retinue, they basically all had braided hair. Some gathered all their hair to the top, braided it into a single plait, and let it hang down behind the head. Others braided their hair and coiled it atop the head. The noble wore caps, the lowly wore headscarves, and some even rolled the headscarf into a long strip, wrapped it once around the forehead, and then bound it on the head.

What Wei Yang did not know was that Ji-surnamed Korea was itself a living fossil of civilization. Compared to Song, which claimed to be the descendant of Yin Shang but whose rites, hairstyles, and attire had in fact all been Zhou-ified, Ji-surnamed Korea had preserved nearly everything from the Yin Shang period in its original form:

Their script was oracle bone script, their calendar the Yin calendar. And this braided hair, for example, was originally the unique hairstyle of the Yin people and had been preserved by the Korean royal house through the generations.

Korean nobles would even sneer at the mallet-shaped topknots of the Yan and Qi people, deeming them mixed customs of the Qiang and Rong! The ancient way of Yin Shang was the true orthodoxy!

But now that it had come to this, Ji Zhun could no longer care about that bit of self-deception Korea harbored deep inside. He could only say, humbly and submissively: "The prince of the small state of Korea has come at invitation to see the general of the great state. May I ask what the great state intends?"

Ji Zhun had set aside a prince's pride; his voice was respectful. This was the helplessness of a small state.

Wei Yang's voice, by contrast, was loud and resonant, carrying the distinctive pride of a great state's soldier.

"The Lord of the Blue Sea in southern Korea has defied the great state. The Emperor has ordered a punitive expedition. However, with the wind on the open sea, we cannot linger long, and so the fleet is moored at Liekou!"

Ji Zhun had been craning his neck for a long while; it was getting sore. He wanted to board the ship to talk, but after the interpreter relayed his meaning, the young commander loudly declared:

"Our general says: a vassal has no authority to conduct foreign relations. If Korea wishes to talk, then go to Manfanhan and discuss it with the commanding general, who is also a prince of great Qin."

"What!?"

Ji Zhun felt he had been toyed with. He had come all this way, condescended to request boarding the ship to negotiate, and the other side now said they were not qualified to talk, that he should go over a hundred li north to find someone else...

This was, in fact, what Hei Fu and Ren Xiao had discussed back in Jiaodong. As a flanking force, Jiaodong had to pave the way for Prince Fusu's main army, but also had to be careful not to steal the main force's thunder at every turn. What was to be done?

They could only first put on a show of force to intimidate Korea. As for formal negotiations, they would kick the ball over and let Fusu make the decision.

Wei Yang saw the displeasure on the faces of the Koreans below. He smiled contemptuously, straining to recall how his uncle-father looked when issuing orders. But that kind of authority that inspired awe without anger was something he simply could not learn. He could only imitate Ren Xiao instead. So he placed both hands on his hips, puffed out his chest, and said with an expression of utter arrogance:

"Please, Prince, report back to the Marquis of Korea: if the talks are not concluded in one day, the naval force will remain moored at Liekou and forage for its food. If they are not concluded in ten days, the naval force will run out of provisions and will have no choice but to sail upstream and ask the Marquis of Korea to gift us a meal! When that time comes, towered ships and war vessels will choke the Lie River so it cannot flow, strong bows and powerful crossbows will be arrayed along the shores of Wangxian, and when the two armies meet, who knows whether Wangxian will be so tightly blockaded that not a drop of water can pass?"

PS: Very sorry, still only one chapter ~~~~(>_<)~~~~

(End of chapter)