Chapter 694: A Great Man Should Be Like This

The arrival of the Eight Nations of the Western Mountains to pledge allegiance was no small matter for Zhang Zhao's Qingtang strategy — it was a great matter, a matter of the greatest magnitude.

For although the eight nations, or eight tribes, numbered only a little over seventy thousand people, that did not mean only seventy thousand lived in the region where the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains roamed. In truth, the area held a full two hundred thousand people.

The Eight Tribes' territory stretched from Ganzi and Kangding in the east to Mangkang and Qamdo in the west, and included places such as Litang — all within their range.

On this vast plateau, Tibetans made up only one third of the population; the rest were the various Qiang, the Black Yi, the White Yi, and other peoples.

Roughly speaking, these were the Black Yi, White Yi, Flowery Yi, and other groups of later generations, along with some other minority peoples.

Before this, the reason the Six Dharma Sect had been unable to spread smoothly through the Eight Tribes' territory was precisely that these Qiang and Yi people believed the Six Dharma Sect was something the Tibetans had created.

They had suffered bitterly under Tibetan oppression, and naturally harbored deep wariness toward it.

Even among the Qiang and Yi compatriots of later generations, few believed in Buddhism. Consider that although they lived alongside their Tibetan compatriots in what is broadly called the Snow Region, they did not believe in Esoteric Buddhism — from that alone one can see the depth of historical grievance contained therein.

Add to that the fact that the Bon religion fit rather well with their primal animist beliefs, and the combination of factors led to the Six Dharma Sect being rejected by the majority of people in this region.

Now that the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains were willing to convert of their own accord, although they could not sway all two hundred thousand people here, their seventy thousand were still fairly united and constituted the most important force in this region.

So as long as they converted, together with the Tibetans who had already begun to believe, this vast plateau would inevitably and swiftly come under the influence of the Six Dharma Sect.

Moreover, once the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains became the direct followers of me, Zhang the Bodhisattva, they could also effectively check Langjie Jiangcuo of Songpan Prefecture, who was right on our doorstep — and could even let the court's hand reach southward along Ma'ergancheng (Mangkang).

One must understand that from Ma'ergan southward to the northern gateway of the Kingdom of Dali, Yuji City (Deqin County, Yunnan), is no more than three hundred li.

And from Yuji City to Yangjumi City (Dali) is only eight hundred li, with a stretch of the Nu River and Lancang River available for water transport. That was exactly how the Mongols destroyed Dali back then.

In this way, drawing off a portion of men to descend from the plateau along the rivers in a feint attack, while the court's army from Nanxi Prefecture made the main assault, the pacification of the Kingdom of Dali would not be very difficult.

Therefore, once Zhang Zhao had clarified their geographical position and influence, he immediately realized this was an excellent opportunity.

Seizing the moment when Dongji Niang, chief of the Ruoshui Tribe — the most powerful of the Eight Tribes — and simultaneously the Eight Tribes' religious leader, had just passed away.

With Dongji Niang's grandson Su Shangzhi — the Eight Tribes' bravest warrior and their military leader — right before him, Zhang Zhao moved at once.

He first ordered the monks of the Six Dharma Sect to perform the cremation rite upon Dongji Niang's body, that is, to burn it. Fortunately, the Qiang people of the Western Mountains did not resist cremation the way the Han did, so the matter proceeded smoothly.

And without any surprise, Dongji Niang's body duly produced seven sarira relics from the fire.

Hmm — within the Six Dharma Sect there were several eminent monks who had come from the Heavenly Works Academy, and they were quite learned in how to produce sarira and what the sarira produced ought to look like. If they said a certain number would emerge, then that number would certainly emerge.

When Su Shangzhi saw that his own grandmother had produced sarira, he wept and laughed at once, prostrated himself before Zhang Zhao, and said that the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains should long ago have come to believe in the Buddha; that his grandmother had toiled her whole life, and now that she had just received the enlightenment of the Dharma King Bodhisattva, she was able to produce sarira.

Zhang Zhao said little, accepted Su Shangzhi's prostration, and then left.

Through this affair, Zhang Zhao also came to understand: in the Han lands, to be an emperor who was close to the people mattered little, but in places where the Six Dharma Sect flourished, it was not fitting to be so approachable.

A terrestrial immortal, a living Buddha — such things were better kept somewhat mysterious.

No sooner had Zhang Zhao left than the Cheng-generation eminent monk, the great Dharma-transmission master of the Six Dharma Sect, spoke.

"Duoji Jinzhu is surely a bodhisattva reincarnated from beneath the Buddha's seat. Because worldly dust clouded his wisdom eye, he sank into heretical paths. Now, having received the enlightenment of the supreme Heavenly Dharma King, he has at last returned to the true way."

Since he had already decided to convert to the Six Dharma Sect, Su Shangzhi was no fool, and naturally he was quite pleased with this explanation.

Moreover, the reason the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains had made the decision to submit was that they could no longer hold out.

Within the Eight Tribes' territory, the Tibetan tribes that had embraced the Six Dharma Sect, as well as the thirty-one Tibetan stong-sde of Songpan Prefecture to the north, were all stirring restlessly.

If the Eight Tribes still failed to take the hint, these Tibetan tribes, armed by the court, would likely select them as the target of the first holy war.

As soon as the Dharma-transmission master opened his mouth, a crowd of eloquent monks surrounded Su Shangzhi. These great masters devoted to spreading the Dharma naturally understood the principle of striking while the iron was hot.

They had to brainwash Su Shangzhi and the tribesmen who had come with him right now, giving them no time to react — only then would it be secure.

And at that very moment, the central gates of Nanguo Temple, the oldest temple in Tianshui Prefecture, swung wide open. Temple bells reverberated, and waves of Sanskrit chanting rose — the Six Dharma Sect's ceremony to welcome the conversion of the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains had begun.

Of course, religion was only one hand Zhang Zhao had prepared; the other hand was, naturally, political power.

As soon as Zhang Zhao returned to his traveling palace, he immediately dispatched men at full speed to summon Su (Lun) Luxin, Administrative Participant of Longyou Province and Prefect of Hezhou Prefecture, and An Youquan, Troop Supervisor of Longxi Prefecture, to Tianshui Prefecture.

Su Luxin came from a great Wenmo clan of Lanzhou. He had been among the first to decide to welcome Zhang Zhao into Lanzhou, had long served in Longyou, and his family was of Qiang origin — the most suitable man to communicate with the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains. Zhang Zhao also trusted his character and ability.

An Youquan was the third son of An Shuqian — that is, Zhang Xiancun's elder brother-in-law.

Once the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains were settled, it would be of tremendous help to Zhang Xiancun's entry into the Kingdom of Dali. As a favored kinsman who would certainly accompany Zhang Xiancun to Dali, An Youquan naturally had to go first to the Eight Tribes' territory to scout things out.

When the two men arrived at a gallop, Zhang Zhao immediately issued orders: Su Luxin was appointed Pacification Commissioner of the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains, and An Youquan was appointed Surveillance Commissioner of the Eight Tribes.

He commanded the two men, together with Su Shangzhi — whom Zhang Zhao had just enfeoffed as Pacification Envoy of Kangding Prefecture — to proceed to the Eight Tribes' region to enfeoff the other native officials and pacify the local populace.

Of course, accompanying Dongji Niang's grandson Su Shangzhi on his return were also a great number of Dharma-transmission monks of the Six Dharma Sect.

At the same time, Zhang Zhao kept three of Dongji Niang's sarira in Tianshui Prefecture, and had a sarira stupa built specifically within Nanguo Temple to preserve them.

The remaining four sarira were carried by the Six Dharma Sect monks to the Eight Tribes' territory, and Zhang Zhao also bestowed four golden (brass) Buddha statues along with them.

After these four golden Buddhas and four sarira were brought to the Eight Tribes' territory, one Six Dharma Sect temple would be built in each of Kangding, Kangdong (Ganzi), Ma'ergan (Mangkang), and Kangyanchuan (Qamdo).

While all this was being arranged at a frantic pace, Zhang Xiancun was furtively poking his head in at the doorway.

When he saw that his elder brother-in-law, more than twenty years his senior, had been appointed Surveillance Commissioner of the Eight Tribes, the eldest imperial prince let out a breath of relief.

Although he was only fifteen, after it was decided that he would go to be Great King of the Kingdom of Dali, a small coterie had gathered around Zhang Xiancun.

Not everyone with talent could find a place at court, and not everyone wanted to muddle along steadily for a lifetime.

Those restless sorts, those who felt their talents went unrecognized, had all without prior agreement set their sights on Zhang Xiancun.

The Kingdom of Dali was just Nanzhao, after all — old acquaintances. To go open new territory and become a hereditary native official was something many were still willing to do.

Therefore Zhang Xiancun also knew that the submission of the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains would be of great benefit to his attack on the Kingdom of Dali.

Some even suggested that the Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains could later be brought in, letting these Qiang people who had embraced the Six Dharma Sect guard the lands north of the capital for Zhang Xiancun and suppress the old nobility of the Kingdom of Dali.

Zhang Zhao had spotted Zhang Xiancun long ago, and with some exasperation called him in. In any other dynasty, an eldest imperial prince who was not the crown prince spying at the door like this would at the very least have earned a beating.

The moment Zhang Xiancun entered, he at once put on a grinning face and launched into lavish flattery. "Your son congratulates Elder Brother! The Eight Tribes of the Western Mountains have fallen into Elder Brother's hands. With a little reorganization, the Six Dharma Sect can press directly toward Lhasa.

This is something even the Great Dynasty's Taizong the Civil Emperor never accomplished. In days to come, when Qingtang submits, Elder Brother will surpass Taizong the Civil Emperor and stand first among the eternal emperors of all ages."

Zhang Zhao shook his head. "Spare me the flattery. Can the Qingtang tribes of today compare with the Tibetans dynasty of the Great Dynasty's era, which fielded two hundred thousand armored men and towered over the plateau?"

Yet even as he said this, a few traces of irrepressible delight rose on Zhang Zhao's face. He himself had never imagined that the founding of the Six Dharma Sect would have such an enormous effect.

"My son, when you saw your father by the Ji River, surrounded by ten thousand horsemen, and then outside the south gate, gathering two hundred thousand Qiang of the Eight Tribes in the snap of a finger — what are your thoughts?"

Zhang Xiancun recalled the scene by the Ji River, Zhang Zhao riding a white horse amid ten thousand horsemen, and felt his heart surge with emotion.

He also recalled that three days earlier, outside the south gate, that old Qiang woman who looked strange yet carried an air of holiness, and how she had let Zhang Zhao stroke her head with the docility of a newborn child. The more he thought of it, the more he yearned for it, and the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"A true man should be like this!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Zhang Xiancun immediately realized something was wrong with what he had said.

Sure enough, almost as soon as he sensed the problem, there was a sharp crack, and Zhang Xiancun felt a heavy blow land on his head. A searing pain shot from his crown through his entire body like lightning.

"Is there perhaps another line after that — 'I could take his place'?"

Zhang Xiancun was terrified. He hurriedly prostrated himself on the ground and cried out, "Your son would not dare! Your son has absolutely no such intention!"

But unlike the furious outburst he had expected from his father, Zhang Xiancun was simply pulled to his feet.

Zhang Zhao looked at this son of his, who lacked only an understanding of the common people's suffering — once he sank himself down among them, he would make a fine ruler — and for a fleeting moment he truly felt the impulse to make Zhang Xiancun his crown prince.

If his Great Zhou could have worthy rulers for both founding father and son, it would do much to prolong the dynasty's lifespan.

But Zhang Zhao quickly came back to his senses. He knew it was not realistic. To make Zhang Xiancun crown prince, he would have to completely destroy the Cao family.

The difficulty was not all that great, but many people would die. Many loyal warriors who had sworn to follow him to the death would be mercilessly struck down in the upheaval.

To say nothing of others, there were two people alone — Cao Sanniang and Yin Yaozi, Yin Zhengqi — whom Zhang Zhao could not bring himself to harm.

Moreover, Zhang Xiancun had talent, but the fourth prince Zhang Xianjing, born of Empress Cao Yanxi, was not necessarily without ability.

Even in the worst case, if Zhang Xianjing proved inadequate, there was still the eighth prince Zhang Xianzai, also born of the Empress. No matter how one reckoned it, the throne would never fall to Zhang Xiancun.

And so Zhang Zhao prepared to tell Zhang Xiancun the truth. Otherwise, that faint glimmer of expectation in the boy's heart would certainly never fade.

For what tempted Zhang Xiancun was nothing other than the power of the Emperor of the Central Plains before him, and the posthumous title of Taizong of a great dynasty behind him. These two supreme temptations — no one but a fool could fail to be stirred by them.

Zhang Zhao led Zhang Xiancun outside the door, and the two sat side by side in a pavilion. Looking at Zhang Xiancun's somewhat nervous expression, Zhang Zhao asked in a low voice, "How much longer does my son think your imperial father can live?"

Zhang Xiancun was startled, not knowing why Zhang Zhao would ask such a thing. He answered with lightning quickness, "Elder Brother is hale and healthy, and will surely enjoy fortune and longevity equal to Heaven itself."

Zhang Zhao laughed heartily. "If that were so, wouldn't your father here be a god or a Buddha?"

Zhang Xiancun blinked, thinking to himself: Father, are you not already a god or a Buddha?

Zhang Zhao did not notice Zhang Xiancun's expression, but went on speaking to himself. "I am thirty-six this year. The ancients said, since olden times, to live to seventy is rare.

So I will not ask for much — let me live to seventy. That means I have at least thirty-four or thirty-five years left. In thirty-five years, how old will you be?"

Zhang Xiancun's heart sank. He was already beginning to sense what Zhang Zhao was getting at. "Your son is fifteen this year. In thirty-five years, I will be exactly fifty."

"Fifty years old!" Zhang Zhao gave a long sigh. "By the time a man reaches fifty, his bones and sinews have begun to loosen, his teeth and hair are falling out, and he can already see the end of his life at a glance.

Does my son know how many crown princes in all of history have ascended the throne at the age of fifty?"

Zhang Xiancun silently shook his head. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Zhang Zhao's mouth. "Your father can tell you — not a single one.

In history, those who ascended the great throne at fifty were only a few: Emperor Gaozu of Han, Emperor Zhaolie of the Shu Han, Emperor Wu of Song, Liu Jinu, Xiao Daocheng of the Southern Qi, and Gaozu of the Great Tang.

But all of these men were founding sovereigns. Not one of them ascended the great throne from the position of crown prince."

At this point, Zhang Zhao looked at the distressed Zhang Xiancun and lovingly rubbed his small face twice.

"If your imperial father made you crown prince, then every ten years I would have to purge the followers around you.

Right now, with only the prospects of a King of Dali, you already have so many people following you. What would it be like if you became crown prince?

Don't think that the subordinates under your command are full of drive right now — that is because they know these efforts will soon be rewarded.

But if you became crown prince, then as long as your imperial father lives, their efforts would never see any reward.

Take An Youquan, for example. He is forty this year. In ten years he will be fifty, yet I will only be forty-six, and I show no sign of passing away.

Do you think he would not despair? Do you think he would not consider gambling everything to make himself a meritorious official who helped you ascend?

When that time comes, even if my son is unwilling to commit such treason, they will force you to do it."

Zhang Xiancun's eyes reddened. He shook his head rapidly. "Your son would not! Even if it meant death, your son would never commit such treason."

Zhang Zhao smiled warmly. "Father knows Cun-ge'er is a filial child, but they will use every means to force you.

For instance, they might raise troops on their own, storm the palace, kill your imperial father, and then flock around you to place you on the throne.

Or they might spread false word that I intend to strip you of the crown prince title and slaughter everyone close to you, goading you into doing something rash, and then there would be no stopping it.

And by then, I might well have grown old and muddled, and might truly issue an edict to have you killed.

The stories of Emperor Shizong Xiaowu of the Former Han and Crown Prince Li Ju, and of Emperor Taizong Wen of the Great Tang and Prince Min of Hengshan, must not be replayed in my Great Zhou!

You must understand that Liu Ju and Li Chengqian were both, at the start, benevolent, filial, and pure-hearted good sons, and Liu Che and Li Shimin were also loving fathers who doted on their sons."

At this, Zhang Zhao's expression turned grave. "So if my son wishes to be crown prince, then prepare yourself now. To prevent the tragedies of the Former Han and the Great Tang from happening again, every ten years your imperial father would have to kill everyone close to you — your father-in-law, your trusted confidants, your beloved concubines, your in-laws — all of them. Could you bear that?"

Zhang Xiancun finally could not hold on any longer. Tears streaming down his face, he looked at Zhang Zhao. "Your son understands now. Your son does not want to be this treasonous, friendless, solitary crown prince!"

Zhang Zhao said nothing. He simply held Zhang Xiancun tightly in his arms, and Zhang Xiancun wept aloud, pouring out all the grievance in his heart.

Supervisor Dong drove all the guards, palace attendants, and eunuchs far away, and stood watch alone at a distance so no one could approach, muttering under his breath.

"The eldest young lord is clever. He will surely think his way through this knot."

Related