Chapter 153: A Stray Dog

Zhang Zhao held the beauty in his arms, so comfortable he did not want to get out of bed. These past two days had been a rare stretch of stolen leisure. The armored soldiers of Hanshan Capital were all recovering from their wounds, and the bodies of the fallen had already been gathered and laid to rest under Cao Yuanxin's arrangements, so Zhang Zhao had simply given himself two days off.

By the dim yellow light of the oil lamp, Zhang Zhao glanced at the beauty in his arms. Before his transmigration he had always had one regret — that at his age he had never driven an imported foreign car. Now this Cao woman of Scythian blood in his arms had finally fulfilled that wish.

Moreover, the Cao woman's looks could absolutely rank first among all the beauties Zhang Zhao had ever seen in real life. She was a queen of a kingdom, and on top of that carried the added attribute of being another man's wife. That flavor had this transmigrator Zhang hooked — once he had tasted it, he knew its sweetness and never tired of it. And because the Cao woman still had a few inner defenses that had not been broken down, she often put up little tearful, sobbing resistances, which only added boundless savor.

"Zhang Erlang, get up quickly, quickly! Come out of the city with me!" A brisk, fiery female voice came from outside the door. A helpless smile touched the corner of Zhang Zhao's mouth. The only person who could shout and yell like that at his place was surely Cao Yuanxin. In these past few days of getting along, Zhang Zhao even had the feeling that his mother had transmigrated over too. This Cao Yuanxin did not resemble his mother in appearance, but her temperament was exactly the same.

Complaints aside, Zhang Zhao still scrambled up at once. He raised his head and looked out the window — the sky had not even begun to brighten. For Cao Yuanxin to come over in such a rush, something major must have happened. Could it be that Bai Congxin and the others had returned?

Ten li east of Lower Artush, Zhang Zhao arrived at full speed under the escort of fifty flying cavalry that Cao Yuanxin had assigned him. Before he had even dismounted, scouts from up ahead came in wave after wave. A Three Stars banner stood out brilliantly under the light of the rising sun.

"Lord of the Commandery, Bai Congxin (Hucile, Li Ruotai) has failed the trust placed in him — we could not capture Bughra Khan Satuq!"

So it really was Bai Congxin and the others returning. Zhang Zhao hurriedly swung off his horse and helped the three men up. All three were covered in blood and mud, and even the horses beneath them had matted, disheveled coats. Clearly they had been in relentless, high-intensity pursuit these past few days.

"What talk of failing the trust? That Satuq is a formidable ruler in his own right, and it was a few hundred riders pursuing ten thousand. How could he possibly be caught so easily? The brothers didn't take heavy casualties, did they?"

The three exchanged a glance, and it was still Bai Congxin who stepped forward and answered with a salute: "We kept biting at Satuq's heels without letting go. Unfortunately, the night before last Satuq received support from a force marching south. Fortunately Prefect Pei arrived in time, and the two sides fought a battle. Neither could gain the upper hand over the other, so we could only withdraw. The brothers suffered almost no casualties, but quite a few fell behind on the march."

"It wasn't without gains either. Lord of the Commandery, look — this is the head of Satuq's eldest son, Baytash. In the saddlebags behind, there are also the heads of several dozen commanders and tribal chiefs, from the great Ilig Ali of the Karakhanid state on down!" After Bai Congxin finished, Hucile continued excitedly.

Zhang Zhao could not help but raise his brows. Although they had not caught Satuq, Baytash's death would absolutely deal Satuq a massive blow. In these past few days of "exchanges" with the Cao woman, Zhang Zhao had gradually gotten a clear picture of Satuq's personal situation.

This Bughra Khan's previous first wife had come from the Tashili tribe of the Karluks in the Land of the Seven Rivers, and the Tashili tribe was one of the largest Karluk tribes in the Land of the Seven Rivers — a full twenty thousand tents, some one hundred twenty to one hundred thirty thousand people.

But although the two sides had formed a marriage alliance, there had long been friction between them. The reason was that the Tashili tribe had always been unwilling to convert to the Heavenly Fang faith. Several years ago, Satuq, to demonstrate his resolve and also to divide the Karluks of the Land of the Seven Rivers, deposed the queen from the Tashili tribe, and three years ago married a royal daughter of the Eastern Cao people, who likewise followed the Heavenly Fang faith, as his new queen — the very Cao woman whom Zhang Zhao had bedded.

From then on, ill feeling had grown between the two sides. The reason it had not led to open trouble was, first, that Satuq was Khagan and held great power, and second, that the princes Baytash and Ahmad, born of the Tashili queen, had not been deposed because of their mother, so the bond between the two sides still remained.

Even more delicate was the fact that Bughra Khan Satuq was only thirty-seven this year and had only two sons and one daughter. The two sons were both born of the Tashili queen — one was Baytash, and the other was that little boy Ahmad who had been captured together with the Cao woman when Shule fell. The younger daughter was born of the Cao woman.

In other words, Baytash was now dead, and Ahmad was only six and had been taken captive by Khotan — who knew when he might conveniently "die of illness." So the death of the eldest son in battle almost meant that Satuq had already lost his heir. Even if Satuq, now nearly forty, could immediately get another son, by the time that prince reached his twenties and could stand on his own, Satuq would already be sixty or seventy — whether he could even live that long was unknown.

Do not think this is a small matter. In ancient times, whether emperor or khagan, in an age when the mortality rate for young children was as high as twenty percent, the question of the heir was absolutely critical.

Moreover, Satuq's loss of the eighteen-year-old Baytash did not merely mean his succession was in trouble. What was even more worrying was that Satuq had now been defeated in battle and his prestige had suffered greatly. The sixty to seventy thousand tents around Shule had all fallen under Khotan's control. Li Shengtian had been rushing about without rest these past days precisely to hand out offices and promises, proclaim general amnesty, and win over these people. In the end, those still willing to follow Satuq and go north with him would probably amount to only one or two out of ten.

Then Satuq, relying on only a few thousand tents and thirty to forty thousand people, could no longer overawe the Tashili tribe with its twenty thousand tents and one hundred twenty to one hundred thirty thousand people — let alone hope to become, through the Tashili tribe, the true Great Khan of the seventy thousand tents and more than four hundred thousand Karluks of the Land of the Seven Rivers.

If Baytash, that connecting bond and adult heir, were still alive, Satuq might perhaps have become the common lord of the Karluks of the Land of the Seven Rivers, and then slowly rebuilt the Karakhanid state. But now that Baytash was gone, he would probably have trouble even obtaining a nominal title of Khagan.

"Well done! Follow me back to the city! The Great Sage Son of Heaven has already prepared a grand ceremony outside Lower Artush to welcome you!" Thinking of all this, Zhang Zhao grew excited too.

Although they had not killed Satuq outright, these two battles at Shule and Lower Artush had very nearly broken the legs of the Karakhanid state. For at least twenty years, it would be very hard for Satuq to make a comeback. And in twenty years — heh! Once the heavenly troops of the Central Plains arrived, Satuq probably would not even get the chance to bare his flesh and lead a sheep in surrender.

Outside Lower Artush, on the very battlefield where Zhang Zhao had deployed the layered formation and fought Satuq in bloody battle, the surrounding corpses and discarded weapons had already been cleared away, and a high platform had been built atop the last small earthen mound of the layered formation.

Zhang Zhao led his troops slowly toward the high platform. Behind him, every man of the Fengtian Army who could still move followed on horseback at a slow pace. Yan Jin was grinning from ear to ear, unable to close his mouth. That kid was the luckiest of all — an arrow had pierced through his cheek but had somehow missed his gums and the roots of his teeth.

Dunzhu, Ma Yaozi, and the Fan Quan and Fan Shun brothers were all full of life and vigor. Their injuries were actually lighter than Zhang Zhao's. Shan Zhuer had also forced himself to come, his face pale. He had had two ribs broken and had only just barely become able to move about freely today.

Man Xiong, however, was in a much worse state. He had drawn a huge amount of fire, and there was hardly a patch of good flesh left on his whole body. The most serious wound was on his belly — a single axe blow had cut through the lamellar armor over his stomach and nearly spilled his intestines out. Fortunately, the fellow had tenacious vitality. After several days of inflammation, the wound had miraculously begun to scab over, though he would certainly need to recuperate for a while.

As soon as everyone arrived, the grand victory music of the royal host, passed down from the Zhou dynasty, struck up. Several hundred drummers and wind players blew and beat away in the open wilderness, a truly awe-inspiring sight.

Zhang Zhao reined in his horse a full li away. This was no ordinary ceremony — the king had built a platform and ascended it to greet them outside the city, and the "Royal Host's Grand Victory" music was being played. This was the highest ceremony by which an ancient sovereign welcomed a triumphant army.

Although the Khotan golden kingdom could not compare with the great states of the Central Plains, and this battle of twenty to thirty thousand men would not even rank in the annals of ancient Chinese history, for today's Khotan, today's Anxi, and today's Zhang Zhao and his men, it was absolutely an extraordinary honor.

"Your humble servant Tian, Minister of Ceremonies of the Great Jin Kingdom, by order of the Great Sage and Great Bright Son of Heaven of the Great Jin Kingdom, respectfully welcomes the return of our brave warriors!"

"We have not failed our sovereign's trust. Relying on the valor of the three armies, the rebel caitiffs have been brought to heel. Three thousand heads have been taken, to make manifest the divine might of the Son of Heaven!"

This Minister of Ceremonies was the head of the Nine Ministers, and by his appearance he too was a Han man. When the exchange was finished, Minister Tian reached out and took the reins of Zhang Zhao's warhorse, then began leading him directly toward the high platform where Li Shengtian stood. There, even grander ceremonies awaited the soldiers returning from bloody battle.

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