Chapter 522: Better to Make Him into Emperor Jerky After All

The cavalry escorting Yelu Deguang still numbered around two thousand five hundred riders.

So Murong Xinzhang left behind a dozen or so riders, had them tie branches to their horses' tails and race about in all directions, making it look as though a great army had already arrived.

At the same time, he led Zhao Kuangzan, Zhao Kuangyin, Gao Huaide, Yao Yuanfu, and the other officers, along with thirty-odd picked riders, charging straight at the Khitan cavalry formation with the air of men fighting a desperate interception.

This indeed frightened the Khitan horsemen. They assumed the Yongliang grand army was about to arrive and that Murong Xinzhang was only stalling for time, so they dared not resist and parted to clear the road.

Murong Xinzhang and his men were thus able to burst straight through the Khitan formation, and even caught sight, far off, of the mule cart by Shahu Forest.

Beside the mule cart, several dozen Khitan noble officers and soldiers were wailing and clamoring, apparently on the verge of leaving.

The sudden appearance of Murong Xinzhang, Zhao Kuangzan, and the others threw them into extreme terror.

Yelu Pode, the Right Pishi Xiangwen, raised his longbow and shouted to the crowd, "The enemy is upon us! There is no way out left or right. Better to fight it out with these few hundred riders and all die for the Emperor!"

Murong Xinzhang's heart tightened. Could Yelu Deguang already be dead?

At that moment, a single rider burst out from among the Khitans. He carried no weapon, but pointed from horseback straight at Zhao Yanshou.

"Unfilial wretch! Would you truly kill your own father? My head is right here — come and take it!"

Zhao Kuangzan, watching the rider from behind Murong Xinzhang, saw that it was indeed his father, Zhao Yanshou, and was instantly overcome with embarrassment.

And at a single glance, Zhao Kuangzan realized that this father of his, Zhao Yanshou, long famed for his handsome bearing and elegant manner, was now haggard, streaked with white hair, and seemed even to have begun to stoop.

After cursing Zhao Kuangzan, Zhao Yanshou looked at Murong Xinzhang with a complicated expression and cupped his hands in salute.

"Shiwu, His Majesty has already passed away here. Your great merit is in hand. Must you really exterminate us to the last man?"

The Khitans behind Zhao Yanshou, hearing him say this, all had hope rekindled in their eyes, yet still braced themselves to fight to the death.

Murong Xinzhang's heart pounded. He was not afraid of these few hundred terror-stricken riders fighting desperately; what he feared was that they might destroy Yelu Deguang's corpse.

If a man is dead, you must see the man; if he is dead, you must see the corpse. Having the body and not having the body were two entirely different kinds of merit.

The good son glanced back at the officers and soldiers behind him. From top to bottom, they all wore satisfied, excited expressions. They had galloped hard for several dozen li, and the merit was about to be theirs; naturally they were unwilling to let new complications arise.

Moreover, they were in fact an isolated force. If it came to a fight, there would surely be casualties, and no one wanted to die on this eve of great merit and great wealth and honor.

"Uncle." Zhao Kuangzan called out pleadingly again from behind Murong Xinzhang.

Murong Xinzhang's expression struggled for a few seconds, then he waved a hand at Zhao Kuangzan, and Zhao Kuangzan immediately spurred over to the mule cart and began examining it closely.

After a long while, Zhao Kuangzan waved his hand in great excitement, then hurriedly spurred back and said fervently, "No mistake! It is the corpse of the Liao ruler Yaogu."

Hearing this, Murong Xinzhang cupped his hands toward Zhao Yanshou. "Elder brother, look after yourself!"

Then he wheeled his horse and began to withdraw, and the officers behind him also wheeled and withdrew, clearing the road.

Zhao Kuangzan, however, dismounted, kowtowed on the ground, and cried out, "When Father returns to Youzhou, please do acquire more lovely consorts and fine horses!"

Among the Liao army, Yelu Pode, the Right Xiangwen of the Pishi Army, raised his face to the sky and sighed deeply, cast aside the bow and cavalry lance in his hands, and dismounted.

"When a king falls like a mountain, how can there be no loyal ministers to give their lives? I shall not leave!"

Yelu Wuzhi's face also showed an expression of pain. He said to Murong Xinzhang,

"The Prince of Yong is a benevolent and righteous lord, sworn brother to the Emperor. How to deal with his elder brother is a matter for him, the younger brother. We men of the frontier shall turn south no more!"

With that, the several hundred, even a thousand, blocked riders burst out and galloped away. Yelu Pode stripped off his upper garment, knelt beside the mule cart, and together with Yelu Deguang's several dozen personal guards, surrounded the cart and wept aloud.

No sooner had Zhao Yanshou and his party left than Murong Xinzhang, without even pausing to wipe the cold sweat from his brow, abruptly turned to Zhao Kuangyin and barked in a low voice,

"Take three horses and go at once to see the Great King. Ask him to send picked riders straight for the Eastern Capital. The Khitans are already cowed — we absolutely must not give them a moment to catch their breath!"

The good son still knew how to handle people. He did not make his men fight desperately again at the very moment supreme merit was in hand.

Nor did he think of seizing the great merit of taking the Eastern Capital for himself. That merit — let Li Cunhui and the others go take it!

At Xiaoyi Bridge, morale soared. Zhang Zhao personally led fifteen hundred picked riders, bringing fierce officers such as Li Cunhui, Fan Shun, Huang Yingda, Yue Saonu, Zhebu Jiashi, and Chen Tingxiao to the bridge, and the already fervent soldiers grew even more fervent.

Zhang Zhao personally took up his bow and advanced to storm the stockade at Xiaoyi Bridge. Seeing that the Great King himself had taken the field, every man fought as ten, and in less than a quarter hour the stockade was breached.

Zhang Zhao swept his hand out and said, looking at the traitor Geng Chongmei, who had been brought before him, "Take this wretch away. Find a time to cut open his belly and tear out his heart, as an offering to Prefect Guo of Yizhou.

As for the rest — since they insist on being loyal ministers covering the rear, then grant their wish and kill them all. Round up every warhorse still able to move and follow me in pursuit!"

Two quarters of an hour later, Zhang Zhao met Zhao Kuangyin, who had come to report, and after riding on a short distance, he saw in this very grove that blood-drenched mule cart.

By the time Zhang Zhao arrived, all the Liao men, including Yelu Pode, had been stripped of their clothes, left with only calf-length underbreeches.

Zhang Zhao walked over and looked. Yelu Deguang's face was pale and blue, his body twisted face-up on the dry grass, his eyes staring wide, and beneath the mule cart blood flowed like a river.

This Khitan ruler had nearly bled dry. He had not been killed; he had simply bled out alive, dying in agony and terror.

Zhang Zhao did not know what he felt. Before arriving, he had dreaded that Yelu Deguang might escape; now that he saw him, it seemed somehow not so exhilarating or joyful after all.

"Why did you have to do it! You brought ruin on a million lives in the Central Plains, and in the end you died drained of blood!"

At this, Yelu Pode raised his head slightly and glanced at Zhang Zhao, then knocked his head into the pool of blood.

"His Majesty was the Great King's sworn elder brother. I beg you to grant him some dignity!"

Zhang Zhao slowly nodded, and suddenly recalled another nickname for Yelu Deguang from history: the Emperor Jerky.

"When a man dies, accounts are settled. Besides, there is still the name of brotherhood between us. Then make him into Emperor Jerky! One way or another, I must let my aunt see her elder brother once more."

Having said this, Zhang Zhao said to Yelu Pode, "You need not be buried alive with him. If there is to be a burial sacrifice, wait until after he has been transported back.

The other guards need not die with him either. But only Khitans are spared. Any Han among them — kill them all!"

Then Zhang Zhao pointed his finger at each of the officers present, and at last an excited smile appeared on his face. "Xinchang, my boy, your merit is immense! All you officers and soldiers shall have ranks of duke and marquis."

Hearing this, the officers were so overjoyed they nearly went mad. It was not merely joy at having ducal and marquis ranks, but because since founding his state, Zhang Zhao had conferred only three noble titles: Li Shouling as Duke of Longxi, Li Congyi as Duke of Jinyang, and Cao Yuanzhong as Marquis of Ziting.

And now that Zhang Zhao had promised ducal and marquis ranks, it meant that Zhang Zhao truly was preparing to found a state and proclaim himself emperor, and that they would all be founding heroes who had followed the dragon.

Murong Xinzhang had also guessed correctly. Having won such great merit, Li Cunhui, Fan Shun, Huang Yingda, and the others were so jealous their faces had twisted. Had he gone after more merit, he would have made himself too hated.

Zhang Zhao had noticed a bit of this too, and was all the more satisfied with Murong Xinzhang. It was only a pity the boy was not of his own seed; this state could not be handed into his hands. In the future he must find a good place for Xinchang, his boy.

At that moment, hoofbeats sounded from all directions, and large numbers of the Yongliang iron cavalry arrived in hot pursuit.

Zhang Zhao was just about to select horses and lead his men onward in pursuit when the veteran general Zhao Hui came galloping up at full speed. Still in the saddle, he shouted to Zhang Zhao,

"Great King, Secretary Fan, Secretary He, and Vice Director Zhang have sent me racing here to tell the Great King to return to Luoyang at once. Secretary He has also written a memorandum for the Great King."

Zhang Zhao was somewhat puzzled. What were these three sending Zhao Hui for? Then he unfolded the memorandum written by He Ning.

It was called a memorial, but in reality it was just a piece of cloth, looking as though it had been torn from He Ning's own clothing, with only two lines written on it.

"Restrain the self and return to propriety, thereby achieving benevolence" and "Luoyi, the capital of the Son of Heaven."

Zhang Zhao fell into thought. The phrase "restrain the self and return to propriety, thereby achieving benevolence" had been circling in his mind lately.

But he had not yet figured out how to build an argument around that phrase. It seemed He Ning, Fan Zhi, Zhang Xichong, and the others had some ideas of their own.

At that thought, Zhang Zhao also reflected that there were still major matters ahead of him, such as sweeping away the several tens of thousands of remnant Liao troops, and that chasing down the enemy was not, after all, work that the ruler of a state ought to be doing himself.

So, under Li Cunhui's desperately eager gaze, Zhang Zhao summoned him before him.

"Appoint Li Cunhui as Commander of the Punitive Expedition Against the Invaders, with Qiongre Duojin, Huang Yingda, Fan Shun, Zhebu Jiashi, Yue Saonu, Chen Nianban, Zhao Yanjin, and Chen Tingxiao as his deputies. Form the Punitive Expedition Army at once, select five thousand elite cavalry, retake the Eastern Capital, seize the floating bridge at Baima Crossing in Huazhou, and set out immediately."

In the year 945, on the third day of the tenth month, the combined armies of Yong and Liao, one hundred ten thousand men in all, met in decisive battle beneath the walls of Yanshi, east of Luoyang.

After two and a half shichen of bitter fighting, the Khitan army of sixty thousand collapsed utterly. More than eleven thousand heads were taken, and over twenty-eight thousand were captured.

The Khitan elite Shushan Army was annihilated. Of the Left and Right Pishi Armies, only a few thousand escaped. The tribal armies and the Xi, Bohai, and Han regiments were likewise wiped out, and the surrendered Jin troops turned their coats on the battlefield.

In the newly founded Liao state, from Emperor Yelu Deguang down, over a hundred nobles and officers of the rank of junior general and above were killed. The abandoned armor, weapons, warhorses, provisions, gold, silver, and bolts of cloth lay piled like mountains, beyond counting.

Zhang Zhao held Luoyang and directed the various armies in pursuit. At the speed of the Yong-Liang iron cavalry, it seemed few would escape.

The only Khitan force remaining north of the great river, the Gaosong tribe, destroyed the floating bridge and vanished without a trace.

In this battle, the Khitan people, who had lorded over western Liao and the lands beyond the northern frontier, suffered an unprecedented and devastating blow. Whether they could even continue to exist in the future was now an open question.

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