Chapter 732: A Truly Fine Eldest Son

Having settled the matter of the Khotan Han family, Zhang Zhao was still quite pleased.

The Han family's talent went far beyond Han Kuangsi and Han Kuangmei. Historically, Han Kuangsi's father Han Zhigu had eleven sons, all of whom left their names in the Liao histories.

That was no small thing. One must understand that the Khitan, as a regime originating beyond the frontier, had never been particularly diligent about compiling histories.

After the Khitan fell, when the Jin state's Chen Daren and the Yuan dynasty's Chancellor Toghto each took charge of compiling the Liao histories, much of the material still had to be sought from the records of Northern Song envoys who had been sent to the Liao.

The Khitan's own historical materials amounted only to the seventy-juan Veritable Records of Liao, written by that shameless Yelu Yan, who won the post of Commissioner of the Bureau of Military Affairs by throwing dice and sent his own wife into the palace for Yelu Hongji to toy with.

As a non-official historian, with a mere seventy juan, he recorded a Liao dynasty that lasted 218 years, and the emperors took up the greater part of that space.

Yet all eleven Han brothers could still be found described within it, their lives glimpsed. This fully demonstrates the Han brothers' abilities, and of course also shows the splendor of the Khotan Han family among the Khitan.

This was the family Zhang Zhao could find — paternal Han Chinese, maternal Khitan, of mixed blood — with the strongest abilities and the best suited to accomplish his task.

As for having Han Derang and Han Dewei study as companions in the divine capital, that was naturally the carrot dangled before the Han family, that stubborn donkey.

If they could complete Zhang Zhao's task of eliminating the Liao marshes, or at least guarantee the route from Liaodong to Liaoxi stayed open, then the Han family's next generation could naturally enter the center of the empire.

For example, someone of Han Derang's ability — making him his own son-in-law would not be out of the question.

After all, I, Sage Zhang, currently have eleven daughters. In the future there will probably be twenty or thirty, so there is no worry about lacking daughters to marry off.

Watching the Han brothers leave in haste, Zhang Zhao gave a slight sigh.

To be honest, the Han brothers had rendered great service by the shores of Lake Bu-yu'er. For him to give so little reward for such merit, then press them to go reclaim the Liao marshes, and use their children to paint a grand promise — it was somewhat ungenerous.

But there was no alternative. The weather was gradually warming. In a few more decades, once this Little Ice Age, which had never been all that cold, passed, the conditions of the Liao marshes would make reclamation a hundred times harder than now, if not more.

At least now, the Liao marshes did not yet have the swarms of flood-dragons and mosquitoes recorded by the later Jin people. The weather still held these things firmly in check.

If this window was missed, those who came later to reclaim the Liao marshes would truly be piling up human lives.

To put it more cold-bloodedly, although lives would still be piled up now, those would be the lives of Khitans, Xi, Shiwei, and Jurchens. I, Sage Zhang, truly do not feel much heartache over that.

Having briefly shown a soft-heartedness not seen in a long while, the very next second Sage Zhang switched straight back into emperor mode.

If he did not exploit the Han brothers, whom else could he exploit? If not them, then it would be the common people of the Han lands who would have to fill the pit of the Liao marshes.

If he did not exploit the Han brothers, then these four to five hundred thousand Khitan subjects who had lost their former comfortable lives — once their resentment accumulated to a certain point and erupted, it would inevitably take tens of thousands, even over a hundred thousand lives to quell. Doing it this way was actually saving their lives.

Right! We are saving their lives! I, Sage Zhang, nodded firmly.

The north wind howled. Zhang Zhao wrapped his robes tighter. This campaign north of the desert could be said to have achieved a perfect result.

His five armies had advanced simultaneously, sweeping from west to east in a dragnet slaughter. Not only had he resolved the great trouble of Shulu Ping, he had also swept through the four tribes of the Zubu, Dalimi, Yedugua, and Dilie, and dealt a heavy blow to the Merkits.

Of the restless elements on the steppe, apart from the Merkit Hulubashi, who had not been found, all the rest had been beheaded. One could say the steppe troubles of the past twenty years had been perfectly resolved.

And in twenty years' time, the Six Dharma Sect would likely have already gained a firm foothold on the steppe.

Then he could employ the great method of western conquest, arm the herders of the southern and northern deserts, and send them to Lake Yibohai (Lake Balkhash) and the shores of the Western Sea (the Caspian Sea), to go and be masters over the Kipchaks, the Kimaks, and the Bashkirs.

Of course, the most ideal outcome would be for these herders to ride with the Zhou army's cavalry on an expedition far out onto the Eastern European steppe.

To go conquer the Volga Bulgar Khanate, the Khazar Khanate, Kievan Rus, and the Principality of Novgorod.

With so many tribes and so many khanates, there would always be room to fit the restless elements of the southern and northern deserts, and even the Central Plains.

The Khazar Khanate especially — those were the ancestors of European nomadism, said to have some connection to the descendants of Attila. The names "Cossack" and "Kazakh" both derive from the Khazars.

To conquer such a nomadic people, classified as belonging to the Huns and the Western Turkic stock, and then drive them to attack Central Europe and Asia Minor — that would certainly be an amusing affair!

After foolishly indulging in this fantasy for a while, Zhang Zhao felt the wretched weather and could not help but sigh.

Everything about this campaign north of the desert had gone well, except for one thing: he had originally prepared to carve a stone at Yanran, but because he had to rush east to attack the eight Dilie tribes, it had ended up done hastily.

Now he could finally perform the Feng Shan rites at Langjuxu, but the weather had already turned cold, and his soldiers were still wearing thin clothes, so there was no choice but to turn back.

The great majority of things had been accomplished, but it still lacked that final flourish, and he could not help feeling rather dissatisfied.

"Sage! Sage! Wonderful news!"

Zhang Zhao looked up. Li Fang came running over from the Yuan Cong, laughing heartily, gesticulating with excitement.

Zhang Zhao looked at Li Fang with puzzlement. "What happy news is it, to get you, Li Mingyuan, this excited?"

Li Fang actually kept Zhang Zhao in suspense. "The Sage will know as soon as he returns. This subject can only say that the Prince of Liaoyang has sent someone."

Zhang Zhao immediately mounted his horse. Murong Xinzhang generally would not send people to the steppe to find him. What on earth had happened?

And judging from Li Fang's manner, it was also good news.

Sure enough, he would know as soon as he returned. Before Zhang Zhao had even reached his great tent, he saw dozens of carts being unloaded. Walking closer, he saw they were cotton-padded coats, one after another.

Seeing Zhang Zhao return, Li Cunhui gleefully pulled a general over by the hand to find Zhang Zhao.

"My lord, Murong Erlang has sent someone with fine things for us — a full eight thousand padded coats, plus a great quantity of rice and flour, enough for the lads who have been gnawing dried meat for months to have a proper meal."

At this, the officer whose hand Li Cunhui was holding hastily dropped to one knee and reported.

"Your subject, Li Hanqiong, Chief Commander of the White Horse Silver Spear command of the Right Yulin Guard, and Right Chief Inspector of the Liaoyang Prince's household, kowtows before the Sage.

By the order of the Prince of Liaoyang, I have escorted eight thousand sets of padded clothing to present to the Sage, along with a memorial in the Great King's own hand, to be submitted to Your Majesty."

Zhang Zhao let out a long sigh. Looking at some of the padded coats, where the bloodstains had not even been washed clean, he felt a warmth in his heart.

"Xinzhang understands me! He knew that I failed to perform the Feng Shan rites at Mount Langjuxu and would surely feel unsatisfied, so he immediately sent padded coats."

As he spoke, Zhang Zhao held up one of the padded coats to show Li Cunhui, Li Fang, Huang Yingda, and the other civil and military officials.

"Look — the bloodstains are still on this coat. It must have been taken directly off the backs of the Right Yulin Guard, the Andong Garrison, and the Liaoyang Prince's household guards."

Everyone looked, and it was indeed so. They were all deeply moved. A shrewd man like Li Fang even cast an extra glance at Zhang Zhao, for he knew why the emperor sighed.

Such a fine son — why could he not be his own flesh and blood?

If he were his own son, and a dozen or so years younger, he would be the perfect successor.

With the Prince of Liaoyang's abilities, if he could serve as the foundation of the state and carry on the dynasty, then this Great Zhou would have a father and son both of them heroic rulers, surpassing every dynasty past.

It was only a pity that, first, he was not his own flesh and blood, and second, he differed from the emperor by only seven years, which destined that he could never be made crown prince.

"Draft an edict: promote the Marquis of Guazhou, Murong Guiying, to Duke of Jinta Commandery, confer upon him the honorary title of Grand Marshal, grant him the privileges of not hastening when entering court and riding in a carriage within the forbidden palace, and increase his stipend by four hundred households.

Posthumously enfeoff Murong Chengdao as Prince of Qinghai, and order the Ministry of Rites to rebuild his tomb at Guazhou, constructed according to the rites for a prince of the blood.

Promote Yongle to Princess of Ying, with a stipend of three thousand households, two hundred of them actual."

Murong Guiying is Murong Xinzhang's grandfather. He is advanced in years and now lives in retirement in the Eastern Capital, Kaifeng, drawing a marquis's stipend.

However, since he has many descendants, even with Murong Xinzhang's frequent support, things are still a bit tight. Now that he has gained another two hundred households and can draw a commandery duke's stipend, it should be much better.

Murong Chengdao was Murong Xinzhang's father, who died young. When he passed away, Xinzhang was still too young to speak, and he held no office, so his tomb was rather humble. Now that Zhang Zhao has posthumously granted him a princely title and ordered his grave rebuilt, it can be considered a way of giving Murong Xinzhang face.

As for Yongle, although she is called a princess, she is a princess of the Later Tang, which the Zhou dynasty does not recognize. Now that she has been promoted at once to the title of State Princess, she will likely go mad with joy when she learns of it.

Moreover, her surname is Li, and by regulation she cannot be enfeoffed as a princess, so she must formally acknowledge her father-in-law, Sage Zhang, as her adoptive father.

Ha! Here comes the ethics problem again. That way, Murong Xinzhang and his wife, the Princess of Ying (Princess Yongle), would nominally be brother and sister. Haha!

With a strange smile at the corner of his mouth, Sage Zhang opened Murong Xinzhang's memorial. After glancing at it a few times, he said excitedly to the assembled company:

"We were wondering why Shulu Ping brought only two or three thousand tribal troops of the Shiwei, Tieli, and others, and why not a single Jurchen was seen.

It turns out that before our eastern expedition against the eight Dilie tribes, the Prince of Liaoyang Commandery had already personally led more than ten thousand infantry and cavalry north to campaign against and win over the various Shiwei and Jurchen peoples.

Even the officials Shulu Ping had left east of the Great Xianbei Mountains have all prostrated themselves and offered surrender."

At this, even Li Cunhui could not help but admire him. Murong Erlang truly was perceptive and knew how to conduct himself.

This strike not only relieved the pressure on the great army campaigning in the northern desert, but also demonstrated his loyalty to his adoptive father, the Emperor. He had not grown the least bit arrogant or complacent because of his enfeoffment as commandery prince and the establishment of his own headquarters.

In fact, Murong Xinzhang had also mentioned one more matter in his memorial. He recommended to Zhang Zhao the Wang Pu at his side, and presented the Plan for Pacifying the Frontier that Wang Pu had submitted to him, along with suggestions for governing the Andong Province.

Murong Xinzhang believed that Wang Pu had the talent of a Wang Zuo, sufficient to serve as a weighty minister in the central court. For him to follow Murong Xinzhang in Andong Province, and perhaps later go to Japan, would be a tremendous waste.

Zhang Zhao closed the memorial and looked over Wang Pu's Plan for Pacifying the Frontier, especially his opinions on how to govern the Andong Province lands held by the Khitan. Many of them coincided with Zhang Zhao's own views without prior consultation.

For example, the Khitan and Xi people must not be allowed to return directly to their homes, and the Liao marshes should be developed, and so on.

Wang Pu even went a step further, proposing the establishment of military garrisons for farming colonies — that is, the construction-corps type — to place the Khitan and Xi under military administration first, and only after their wild nature had been worn away could they be regarded as common subjects.

He was indeed a great talent. After reading the Plan for Pacifying the Frontier, Zhang Zhao remembered who this Wang Pu was: in history, the chief strategist of Guo Rong, the civil official most relied upon by Emperor Shizong of Zhou.

If an ordinary person had raised this matter, or if it had met with a petty-minded emperor like a Jiajing or a Kang Mazi, he would most likely have thought Murong Xinzhang was trying to plant his own man in the central court.

But Zhang Zhao knew that Murong Xinzhang certainly had no such intention. The lad genuinely felt it would be a pity for Wang Pu to follow him to Japan.

It seems this Wang Pu truly enjoys Xinzhang's trust!

At the end of the memorial, Murong Xinzhang also expressed the hope that Zhang Zhao would permit him to employ Han Yanhui to help stabilize the region.

Han Yanhui was a founding weighty minister of the Khitan, Yelu Abaoji's right-hand man. The pattern of mixed Hu and Han settlement within the Khitan state was established single-handedly by Han Yanhui. Among the Han ministers of the Liao state, he was the most influential and the most capable.

It was just that such a weighty minister, Zhang Zhao estimated, might not be someone Murong Xinzhang could command for the time being.

"Summon Han Yanhui and his son Han Deshu to Chengde Prefecture before the second month of next year."

Zhang Zhao made his decision. Since Murong Xinzhang wanted to use Han Yanhui, it would be better for him to step forward and recruit the man himself.

Wang Pu could also stay in Liaoyang for now. What reason was there for a father to snatch a minister from his son?

Related