Chapter 592

Fine books.........

In late September, the grasslands south of the desert enjoyed crisp autumn air and high skies, and by the Mandarin Duck Lakes, a grand gathering was being held.

Khitans from the Liao River, the five Xi tribes from the Raole River, the Jurchens of the Eastern Sea, and the Kyrgyz from the Gold Mountains had all sent people to attend the assembly.

Ten thousand cavalrymen of various peoples were competing in riding and archery by the Mandarin Duck Lakes, and they looked exceedingly happy.

In practical terms, this was indeed a rare moment of unbridled joy for the steppe peoples, with the Khitans foremost among them.

Because a little over a year earlier, the Khitan Emperor had led sixty thousand riders into the Central Plains, and by the time he came back, he had become a slab of cured meat.

Of the sixty thousand riders who went south, only fifteen thousand returned, and they had lost most of their iron armor — a grievous loss indeed.

At that time, everyone believed the Khitans were about to be finished, and tribes great and small across the land had even erupted in one rebellion after another, hearts filled with panic.

But at that critical moment, the Han emperor to the south suddenly fell silent, giving the Khitans a chance to catch their breath.

The Han emperor is a fool! Everyone thought so.

This was also an important reason why the various steppe peoples were still willing to attend the burnt-offering ceremony the Khitans were holding after suffering such a great defeat.

In their view, if the Han emperor could not even seize such a fine opportunity, he must have won his victory and then gone off to wallow in pleasure.

There were plenty of such examples on the steppe, and in the end, without exception, all of them lost their khagan's throne and their lives.

What was more, the Khitans still held the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun in Han territory.

For the Central Plains, these lands were a natural barrier, while for the steppe peoples, the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun were the most prosperous place their eyes could see — it would be no exaggeration to call them the richest place under heaven.

Of course, the occasional traveling merchant would tell them that the Han lands still farther south of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun were even richer.

But at that, the herders on the steppe would shake their heads violently, certain you were lying.

The Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun had people as numerous as ants on the ground; they grew grain enough to feed everyone on the steppe, wove cloth, silk, and brocade enough to cover the whole earth, and in a single day could smelt enough ironware to supply a tribe of a hundred for a year.

How could there possibly be any place under heaven richer than the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun?

Impossible! Absolutely impossible!

And so, confined by their narrow horizons and an imagination stunted by too much poverty, the brave herders of the steppe and their khagans and chieftains great and small still regarded the Khitans as an exceedingly mighty power.

Several thousand suits of iron armor plus the rich Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun — was that not mighty?

And when Liu Zhiyuan arrived at the Mandarin Duck Lakes with two thousand Hedong iron cavalry, the atmosphere grew even more feverish.

Introduced by the new Great Liao Emperor Yelu Ruan, Liu Zhiyuan became the Northern King of the Han people.

By comparison, that was like the Left and Right Worthy Kings of the Xiongnu, or the Left and Right Yabghu of the Turks!

Put that way, everyone understood at once: so the Han people had fallen into internal strife as well, and even a man of the rank of Left and Right Worthy King had come to beg something of us.

He had even promised that once they went south, everyone could go and live in warm, rich lands, and never again have to endure the white disaster and the black disaster year after year.

After learning this news, some steppe tribal chieftains even began to dance and bow in homage before Yelu Ruan.

This was not the Great Khitan being finished — clearly the Great Khitan was handing out blessings to the men of the steppe!

Southward! To the lands of the Han folk — fiercely! Fiercely seize a good haul!

Liu Zhiyuan's great tent stood on the western side of the Mandarin Duck Lakes, on a hillock a little over three li northeast of what would later be Liangcheng County in Inner Mongolia.

The ground here was slightly elevated, overlooking the assembly grounds around the Mandarin Duck Lakes, and the site had been personally chosen by Yelu Ruan precisely to highlight Liu Zhiyuan's status.

At this moment, Liu Zhiyuan, his beard and hair gray, stood on the hillock, watching the steppe peoples shouting and dancing in homage by the lakes, and his heart was deeply troubled.

Although Liu Zhiyuan's ethnic makeup was highly suspect — his bloodlines were probably a mix of the the Shatuo, Han, Tuyuhun, and even Kunlun slave stock.

That did not stop Liu Zhiyuan from considering himself a Han, and he even believed himself to be a descendant of the imperial house of the Great Han.

So seeing these steppe peoples in their high spirits, Liu Zhiyuan's heart was, unexpectedly, deeply troubled.

Back in the day, he had been one of the generals under Shi Jingtang most opposed to ceding the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun, yet today he was about to walk the same road as Shi Jingtang.

"Thinking back to former days, when I served as a general under the Exalted Ancestor Emperor, I urged him with all my strength not to pay tribute to the Khitans.

I never imagined that today I myself would walk this road. Only now do I understand how helpless the Exalted Ancestor Emperor was in those years."

Liu Zhiyuan knew full well that saying such things was somewhat inappropriate, but he could not help voicing them to the trusted men beside him — Bai Wenke, Su Fengji, Shi Hongzhao, and the others.

Bai Wenke remained silent, but Su Fengji cupped his hands and said, "How can the late Emperor of Jin be compared with Your Highness today? In those years, Jin had to beg the Khitans, ceding land and calling himself their son.

But Your Highness has come today to be the uncle of the Khitan Son of Heaven. It is we who have kept their Liao state alive."

Although Shi Hongzhao did not care for Su Fengji, he still felt the man had a point. He looked at Liu Zhiyuan, pointed at the tribal chieftains by the Mandarin Duck Lakes, and said carelessly.

"Why should Your Highness worry about these northern barbarians? Your servant wishes there were even more of them, for compared with the Hexi troops, these wretches are truly not worth worrying about! Once we have killed the Shaoming Son of Heaven, there will be plenty of time to deal with them slowly."

Shi Hongzhao had meant to comfort Liu Zhiyuan, but Liu Zhiyuan felt a jolt in his heart, because he knew very well that back then, Shi Jingtang had thought exactly as Shi Hongzhao did now — and what had been the result?

But Liu Zhiyuan would not say such words aloud. If he did, people's hearts would surely scatter.

If you, the great king, have lost confidence, why should the men below still follow you to fight and die?

So Liu Zhiyuan let out a deliberately bold laugh. "Huayuan speaks truly. Once we have killed Zhang Zhao, these northern barbarians will be beneath our notice.

When the time comes, we sovereign and subject shall recover Yan-Yun, drive the northern barbarians away, pacify the Tang and Shu in the south, and follow the example of Emperor Gaozu of Han. Huayuan shall be the Marquis Wen of Ruyin."

The Marquis Wen of Ruyin was Liu Bang's young companion Xiahou Ying. By saying this, Liu Zhiyuan was casting himself as Emperor Gaozu of Han!

He could only think this way, because by this time, Liu Zhiyuan was no longer young.

Later generations, seeing that Liu Zhiyuan had served under Shi Jingtang and founded the Later Han several years after Shi Jingtang's death, would get the mistaken impression that Liu Zhiyuan belonged to the generation after Shi Jingtang.

But in fact, Liu Zhiyuan was only five years younger than Shi Jingtang. He was born in the second year of Qianning under Emperor Zhaozong of Tang, that is, 895 CE, and was already fifty-one this year — a full seventeen years older than Zhang Zhao, who was born in the second year of Qianhua of the Later Liang (912).

Among the founding rulers of history, only Liu Bang, the ancestor he claimed as his own, had been fifty-four when he established the Great Han; the rest had all been quite young. And so Liu Zhiyuan often used Emperor Gaozu of Han to encourage himself.

Of course, no one would spoil the moment by telling Liu Zhiyuan that the age of Emperor Gaozu of Han had always been a matter of dispute.

At the time, the widely accepted view was the textual research of Yan Shigu, according to which Liu Bang was only forty-five when he established the Western Han.

Liu Zhiyuan knew his age was a weakness, and others knew it too, only not as keenly as he did.

And these others, apart from Zhang Zhao, included Yelu Ruan, the one who had invited Liu Zhiyuan north this time and was preparing to call Liu Zhiyuan his uncle.

Yelu Ruan's life had been full of dramatic ups and downs.

At birth, he was the eldest grandson of the Heaven-Ascending Emperor Yelu Abaoji, with a brilliant future stretching before him.

But before long, his father Yelu Bei fell out of favor with his grandmother Shulu Ping, and the throne that had been within his grasp slipped away.

Later the situation grew worse and worse. Never mind the throne — he could barely hold on to his position as King of Dongdan.

And just when he was at his most miserable, his father Yelu Bei could no longer bear the pressure and simply abandoned him and his mother, fleeing to the Central Plains.

That was terrifying! Yelu Ruan and his mother were instantly left in an impossible position. When the nest is overturned, can any egg remain whole?

Fortunately, his uncle Yelu Deguang still cared somewhat about appearances. He felt it would look bad to have driven away his elder brother, so he showed great favor to Yelu Ruan, using this to demonstrate to the world that he had not been the one who drove his brother away.

Still, Yelu Ruan had ultimately lost his father's protection, and being kept at the side of an uncle full of theatrical posturing — one can imagine how unbearable that was.

After that, turmoil broke out in the Central Plains and his father Yelu Bei died. Yelu Ruan entered the Eastern Capital with the army, intending only to bury his father and leave, but then discovered that his younger sister Yelu Abuli had gone missing.

To find his sister, he even stayed in the Central Plains for several years. Only in the end did he learn that she had gone to Hexi. After many delays and setbacks, by the time he returned to the Khitan, the political climate had changed again.

By now his father was dead, and his uncle Yelu Deguang's position was completely secure. There was no longer any need to put on an act for him, so Yelu Ruan's status plummeted, and his life grew harder and harder.

When the Khitan army entered the Central Plains again, Yelu Ruan fought with reckless abandon, risking his life to curry favor with his uncle Yelu Deguang.

Hm! And then, at the Yang Canal outside Luoyang, he ran into his other uncle and brother-in-law, the Shao Ming Son of Heaven Zhang.

The Iron Pigeon Army led by Yelu Ruan slammed head-on into eight hundred elite troops of the Mountain-Shaking Capital's cavalry and infantry, commanded by Man Xiong and Dunzhu.

These were the trusted core troops with which the Shao Ming Emperor had built his rise! Divine-arm crossbows, cloth-faced iron armor, pear-blossom spears, Hexi heavenly horses — all fully equipped.

Damn it! That battle was like charging straight into an iron plate.

In the end, Yelu Ruan survived only by throwing away his armor and warhorse and crawling on all fours deep into the Beimang Mountains.

After that, Yelu Ruan fell even further out of favor and was assigned to the rear army.

But fortunately for him, this allowed Yelu Ruan to escape pursuit by the Hexi iron cavalry. Under the protection of Yelu Wuzhi and others, he successfully returned north to Youzhou.

And in the end...?

In the end, naturally, he was acclaimed by the others as Khitan Emperor, because the ten thousand-odd riders who returned all knew what they were about to face.

That was Shulu Ping and Yelu Lihu, mother and son, in the Eastern Capital at Liaoyang.

This mother, after her husband Yelu Abaoji died, had wanted to bury all of Yelu Abaoji's close ministers alive with him as human sacrifices, in order to consolidate power.

She was a supremely ruthless woman who, when provoked, could cut off her own wrist in front of a crowd.

The son was all muscle and no brain, taking pleasure in killing at the slightest provocation — a reckless brute so cruel that even the Khitan themselves could not stand the sight of him.

Who knew whether, on this return, with the Emperor dead in the southern realm, the wrist-severing Empress Dowager and her son might have them all buried alive with the Emperor?

Therefore, as soon as they reached Youzhou and had briefly reorganized the troops, they acclaimed Yelu Ruan as Emperor, and together swore an oath to cling tightly together in the struggle to survive.

Shulu Ping would of course not accept this. So before Zhang Zhao had even attacked, the two factions of Khitan fought a great battle outside Gubeikou.

But the Khitan troops Yelu Lihu brought were panicked at the thought of fighting among themselves when the nation itself was on the verge of destruction, and so they refused to fight to the death.

The men returning from the north, by contrast, had absolutely no way out left. Defeat meant the extermination of their families and clans, and in their desperation they erupted with ferocious fighting strength.

The Han people of Yan-Yun also feared Yelu Lihu's reputation for cruelty. They dreaded that if the Khitan from the Liao lands won, they would take revenge by slaughtering people in Yan-Yun, so they too supported the men returning from the north.

Thus the battle's outcome was never in doubt. The fifteen thousand men Yelu Lihu had scraped together from all directions were easily defeated by the eight thousand riders behind Yelu Ruan.

Yelu Lihu threw away his armor and, under the desperate protection of his followers, fled in disgrace across the Baoqiu River (within the borders of Ji County, Tianjin) back to Liaoyang.

From then on, Shulu Ping and her son essentially lost their bargaining power. However, because Shulu Ping still controlled the families of the men in Youzhou, everyone feared she might suddenly go mad, and so they hesitated to press her, wary of the consequences.

The final turning point came from Liu Zhiyuan. After Liu Zhiyuan met with Yelu Ruan at Dingzhou, the two sides quickly came together to oppose Zhang Zhao.

At the Dingzhou alliance, Yelu Ruan agreed to release forty thousand Tuyuhun tribal people from north of the Yin Mountains to Hedong.

Liu Zhiyuan, in turn, released the six thousand riders of the Gao Song tribe to return to Yan-Yun, greatly strengthening Yelu Ruan's power.

This became the key that broke Shulu Ping's psychological defenses. Because of the alliance with Liu Zhiyuan, Yelu Ruan gained the allegiance of the Gao Song tribe's six thousand men, and with the great gift Yelu Lihu had delivered, the forces nominally under Yelu Ruan's control reached as many as thirty thousand riders.

This was nearly all the military strength the Khitan had left. With his rear secure, he was now in an unbeatable position in the internal contest. Even the Khitan in the Liao lands were no longer willing to oppose Yelu Ruan.

So under pressure from within and without, Shulu Ping could only, under the persuasion of Liu Zhiyuan's envoy and Yelu Wuzhi, abandon her final resistance that would have dragged the Khitan into the abyss, and announce her agreement to Yelu Ruan's succession.

After all, this was the foundation she had built together with Yelu Abaoji. Though Shulu Ping was ruthless toward both herself and others, when it came to this foundation, she could not bring herself to destroy it outright.

In the Khitan Son of Heaven's great tent at Yuanyang Lake, Yelu Wuzhi and Gao Song were trying to persuade Yelu Ruan.

Because at this alliance, Yelu Ruan not only had to address Liu Zhiyuan as uncle, but also had to cede Shouzhou and Yingzhou, two of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun, to Liu Zhiyuan, so that Liu Zhiyuan could gain the prestige of having recovered part of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun.

For Yelu Ruan, who had just ascended the throne, although the Great Liao had just been defeated by the Zhou state and even its Emperor had died in battle, it was still one of the strongest powers in the world.

Yet upon his accession, he had not expanded his territory by a single inch, and instead had to first cede the two prefectures of Shuo and Ying. He was deeply bitter about it.

Therefore, no matter how Yelu Wuzhi argued, Yelu Ruan never gave a clear indication that he was willing to proceed accordingly.

Yelu Wuzhi, his mouth parched and tongue dry, saw that all his talk had produced little effect, and could only look over at Gao Song standing nearby, signaling him to step forward and try his hand at persuasion.

The six thousand cavalry under Gao Song's command were practically the only Khitan troops that had not been soundly beaten by Zhang Zhao, so their combat strength was considerable. As the leader of these six thousand men, Gao Song's words naturally carried weight.

But Gao Song did not intend to analyze the situation in terms of the grand trends of the world and shared destiny as Yelu Wuzhi had. Instead, he asked Yelu Ruan with a faint smile.

"Does Your Majesty know where Liu Zhiyuan's fatal weakness lies?"

Yelu Ruan, seeing that there was finally a fresh topic, no longer held back in silence. Without even needing to think, he answered directly.

"Naturally it is that Hedong has insufficient population and meager output. The Daibei and Hedong warriors from whom the Li family of the former dynasty rose have suffered too much attrition over twenty years, and can no longer bear the burden of once again controlling the Central Plains."

Yelu Ruan spoke with absolute conviction, because these were things he had not only thought through himself, but had heard many times from his close attendants and advisors — even Yelu Wuzhi had said as much.

But Gao Song shook his head. "Liu Zhiyuan's most fatal weakness does not lie in the decline of the Daibei and Hedong warrior class.

It lies in the fact that he is already fifty-one years old this year. This Prince of Beiping is a full seven years older than the Taizong Emperor.

Before I entered Your Majesty's service, he tried every means to recruit me, and so I was able to observe this man at close range."

Hearing this, Yelu Ruan was already growing impatient. "Grand Tutor, speak quickly. What do you truly think of Liu Zhiyuan?"

Gao Song made a calming gesture and continued in his unhurried manner. "I observed that although Liu Zhiyuan holds high office, because he was of low status in his youth and could only rise through brave fighting, he suffered many wounds and still carries numerous hidden ailments.

After the Shao Ming Son of Heaven of the southern realm entered the Central Plains, he sighed through the days and nights, deeply worried, and had to pacify various regions and contend for Hebei, so he ate little and worked endlessly.

Does Your Majesty think that is the appearance of a long-lived man?"

"You mean Liu Zhiyuan does not have long to live?" Yelu Ruan was overjoyed, and actually stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"I have also observed that since the birth of his third son Liu Chengxun ten years ago, Liu Zhiyuan has had no further children, and he has taken no new concubines in those ten years either. The decline of his body is plain to see."

"I would even venture that Liu Zhiyuan is no longer capable of siring children. At this rate, can he live another five years?"

After hearing Gao Song's words, Yelu Ruan finally quieted down, and Yelu Wuzhi too looked at Gao Song with shining eyes.

"At this moment of life and death, Grand Tutor, please speak freely. If you have any good plan, do not hesitate to tell us."

Seeing that even a top Khitan noble like Yelu Wuzhi was finally turning to him for counsel, Gao Song's face unconsciously showed a satisfied expression.

He was a Balhae man. Without real ability, how could he have made these Khitans treat him as one of their own?

"In your servant's view, the Zhou sovereign, the Shao Ming Son of Heaven, has already secured the greater momentum. If we can achieve a partition of the realm with the Shao Ming Son of Heaven along the river, that will count as victory. What follows will inevitably be a north-south standoff.

Our great Khitan holds the steppe. Only if we can absorb the masses of Hedong and Daibei will we have the standing to contend with the Zhou state for the realm.

After that, by allying with Shu, Tang, and other states, we can at the very least create a situation like the Tuoba Northern Dynasty.

And to achieve this goal, we must be inseparable from Liu Zhiyuan's Hedong power.

Your servant suggests that Your Majesty not only call Liu Zhiyuan uncle, but also treat him with the rites due an uncle, and further win over the Hedong officers and soldiers generously.

The King of Beiping's eldest son is sickly, and his second and third sons are still young. Once the mountain crumbles, who will be able to control the overall situation of this alliance between the two states?"

Yelu Ruan listened entranced, fully drawn in. Only after a long while did he draw a deep breath, as if just returning to reality, and slammed his fist heavily on the table.

"Good! For the sake of the Great Liao's realm, I, Yelu Ruan, will endure humiliation and bear this burden for a time!"

However, just as Yelu Ruan and his ministers were discussing with spittle flying inside the tent, more than ten Kyrgyz riders broke into the prison the Khitans had set up.

They rescued a burly man who had been beaten until his flesh was a blur of blood.

Though covered in wounds, the burly man was in excellent spirits. Looking at the people who had come to save him, he said:

"You have done well. The noble Niju Yinli Khagan is our true Great Khan. These Khitans are merely defeated remnants before the Great Khan. We cannot be traitorous subjects.

And the betrayal of Tusa Ge and the others will surely be punished by the Khagan.

Their tribe will have no millet to eat, no tea to drink, no iron tools to use.

This is a heaven-sent opportunity for our Naiman tribe. Let us go south and report Tusa Ge and the others to the Great Khan."