Chapter 803: The Son of Heaven Is the Uncle, the Btsanpo Is the Nephew

In Lhasa, within the Potala Palace, the night was already deep. Na Poda, leading his eldest son Gelong and a man dressed as a servant, slipped into the Potala Palace through a secret entrance.

As for why Na Poda knew of this secret passage into the Potala Palace, it was because Na Poda's Blackwater Tribe answered directly to the btsanpo's family.

Present-day Lhasa had formed an extremely strange political landscape.

The btsanpo's family was trapped inside the Potala Palace; once their orders left the palace, they no longer carried much weight.

Because Lhasa and its surrounding regions were controlled by a bunch of feudal nobles — the Luhui, Ba, Re, and Mölu clans.

Among themselves there was both struggle and cooperation, but their core idea was to keep the btsanpo confined in the palace as a puppet.

And in places far from Lhasa, there were still many territories controlled by marginal members of the btsanpo's family, or by forces like the Blackwater Tribe that were loyal to the btsanpo's family.

Well, they were not truly loyal to the btsanpo either. Rather, if they did not posture as loyal to the btsanpo and coordinate with the btsanpo inside the Potala Palace, they would very quickly be swallowed up by these powerful political blocs near Lhasa.

So the current political situation in Lhasa was this: the btsanpo was bottled up in the Potala Palace by the great clan political blocs.

While outside Lhasa, there were large numbers of the btsanpo's "loyal ministers," which made the great clans somewhat wary of acting rashly against the btsanpo. The three sides formed a relatively stable set of nested dolls, each containing the other.

Historically, the end of this nesting came decades later, after the Buddhist revival, when the btsanpo's family completely lost the last shred of their legal and moral legitimacy.

Then the area around Lhasa immediately erupted into fighting, and a brutal civil war among the great clans began. At one point even the Potala Palace was completely destroyed, leaving only the corner of Rasa, that is, the Jokhang Temple.

The Potala Palace we see in later generations was actually restored in the first year of Longwu of the Southern Ming, that is, 1645, under the direction of the Fifth Dalai Lama, Ngawang Lobsang Gyatso.

Crawling through one small hole after another, Na Poda and his two companions finally reached the Rasa (Jokhang Temple) within the palace.

The btsanpo Tri Wangxuzan, guarded by several warriors of the btsanpo's family, wore a qiuba Tibetan robe of brocade with a large lapel, left-fastened. Since it was not a formal occasion, he did not wear the crimson dawn-cloud crown, but simply tied a red headband around his forehead.

Tri Wangxuzan naturally knew Na Poda, and Na Poda had not slipped into Lhasa only today — he had already been inside for two days, and only after obtaining the btsanpo Tri Wangxuzan's permission did he come to pay his respects.

As for why the great clan political blocs like the Luhui had not completely sealed off Lhasa or the Potala Palace, it was because they simply did not have the ability.

Lhasa was not a city where any one family had the final say, but where five families had the final say, and this gave Na Poda and his companions the best opportunity to slip in.

And by the time the btsanpo's position had passed down to Tri Wangxuzan, it had long since lost the prestige of his ancestors. Otherwise, even for a simple audience like this, without grand ceremonial obeisance, one would not have been able to enter and pay respects.

At this moment Tri Wangxuzan was already burning with anxiety. Seeing Na Poda enter, he immediately ordered men to arrange brocade stools for them, and asked urgently: "How many armored soldiers has the Dongdai brought? Can they escort me out to Nagqu?"

By this time the Tibetan Empire had long since seen its rites and music collapse. The title Dongdai, originally used for important regional ministers, had become something any petty chieftain could grab for himself.

A trace of embarrassment appeared on the face of the btsanpo Tri Wangxuzan. Escorting him out to Nagqu sounded like nothing much, but if the btsanpo wanted to get out, there was only one way — to crawl through that little dog-hole, just like Na Poda and his men.

Na Poda immediately rejected the btsanpo's proposal. He did not say he lacked the ability to take the btsanpo out, but instead advised: "It is not a good idea for the btsanpo to go to Dokham. The resentment of Nyiwobagun's descendants has not yet dissipated."

Na Poda knew that the btsanpo did not want to go to Nagqu, but to Dokham.

At this time there were two Dokhams. The larger geographical concept of Dokham referred to the Hengduan Mountains region of northwestern Sichuan and northwestern Yunnan.

The smaller Dokham was near what would later be Shigatse.

Nyiwobagun was of the btsanpo Tri Wangxuzan's great-uncle generation. Because he believed in Buddhism, he had been expelled from Lhasa to the Dokham area (near Shigatse).

But although they had been expelled, after two generations of development they had actually gained some real power, and were somewhat better off than being trapped in the Potala Palace.

The btsanpo Tri Zanxuwang sighed and nodded. He actually knew that going to Dokham was not a good idea, but he truly had no other choice, and was only asking out of a last hope.

But while Tri Zanxuwang was sighing, his son Chana Yixi Jiacan behind him had his eyes light up. He said to his father: "Since the Blackwater Dongdai has risked entering the palace, he must have made some preparations. Why not ask the Dongdai to speak of it?"

Right! Only then did Tri Zanxuwang react. "What clever plan does the Dongdai have to help me escape this predicament? Speak, and I will surely reward you."

As he spoke, Tri Wangxuzan ordered men to bring out a small chest of treasures — apparently the little remaining family fortune of the btsanpo's house.

"Your servant does have a plan, and needs no reward from the btsanpo." Na Poda bowed and said.

"A loyal minister!" Tri Wangxuzan exclaimed in admiration. In these times, a loyal minister who would risk entering the palace and ask for no reward had not been seen in many years. Praising him, he personally helped Na Poda to his feet.

"For the btsanpo's present situation, the only course is to seek refuge with your maternal uncle's family. Only thus can you avoid the calamity of death and the destruction of your clan!" Na Poda said calmly.

"Maternal uncle's family?" Tri Wangxuzan was somewhat bewildered. His son Chana Yixi Jiacan was also stunned.

Tri Wangxuzan's maternal uncle's family, the Caibang clan, had already been defeated in the struggles more than ten years ago and driven out of Lhasa. They could not serve as a support at all.

Moreover, the Caibang clan's base was in Yarlung in Shannan, and it was said that they had now gotten mixed up with Tri Wangxuzan's distant cousin Tri Zhaxi Zibabei, preparing to install this cousin as btsanpo in Shannan.

Good heavens, what chaos! Tri Wangxuzan paced in circles, frantic. Was there truly no place in all of vast Tibet that could hold him, the btsanpo?

"The maternal uncle's family the Dongdai speaks of is not the Caibang clan, but the maternal uncle's family of the btsanpo's ancestors!"

Just as Tri Wangxuzan was at his wit's end, the tall man who had been standing behind Na Poda spoke up.

"The maternal uncle's family of my ancestors?" Tri Wangxuzan still did not understand. He truly could not connect his maternal uncle's family with the Central Plains.

"The btsanpo's ancestors married a princess of the Great Dynasty as their zhumeng, called the Great Dynasty's Emperor 'maternal uncle,' and called themselves 'nephew.' The btsanpo's eighth-generation grandmother was the Great Dynasty's Princess Jincheng, making him even more clearly a nephew of the Great Dynasty.

Now the Sage Son of Heaven of the Great Zhou in the Central Plains has a bond of brotherhood with the Later Dynasty's emperor. Reckoning the generations, he is the btsanpo's maternal cousin-uncle."

Originally, Zhang Zhao should have been of the same generation as Tri Wangxuzan, but after Zhang Zhao took Yelu Xiuge as his adopted son, he forcibly raised himself by one generation. Now he was of the same generation as Yelu Abaoji.

And Yelu Abaoji had sworn brotherhood with Li Keyong. Rounding things off, Zhang Zhao was thus of the same generation as Li Keyong, making him an uncle of Emperor Zhuangzong, Li Cunxu.

Then reckoning from Princess Jincheng — Princess Jincheng was the younger sister of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. After all these twists and turns, Zhang Zhao was the distant maternal cousin-uncle of the btsanpo Tri Wangxuzan.

This relationship, if traced any further back, would damn well go back three hundred years. Even though Tri Wangxuzan was actually skilled at sorting out such relationships, it still took him a long while before he barely managed to work it out.

You ask whether the btsanpo would be dissatisfied? Don't joke. Trapped in the Potala Palace for generations, how much temper could he have left? His heart was entirely occupied with how to escape the fate, destined for the future, of his whole family being slaughtered.

When it came to political struggle or even governing the country, Tri Wangxuzan was not skilled. But when it came to selling the identity of btsanpo for a good price, he was an expert.

And Tri Wangxuzan was not worried that Na Poda had been sent by the great clans to fish for him. He was already so miserable — he was basically a rubber stamp, obedient and easy to use. Why would they need to fish for him? There was no need.

Generally, whatever the great clans wanted to do, as long as they had agreed upon it, Tri Wangxuzan only needed to nod in agreement.

If it were some outside power-holder invading to seize power, Tri Wangxuzan would not be so nervous.

But when the Six Dharma Sect came, he was very afraid, because he was a direct descendant of the Buddha-persecuting btsanpo Langdarma. How could he not be afraid?

Hearing someone speak thus, he did not even ask who this man who had come with Na Poda and was clearly from the Central Plains dynasty was. Directly, somewhat excited and half-believing, half-doubting, he asked:

"So it seems that this humble btsanpo is the nephew of the Supreme Dharma King? I wonder if my uncle has brought some small gifts for his nephew?"

This was not merely shameless — it was utterly shameless. Even Lun Zhen, the nephew of Lun Boren and a Swastika Dharma Practitioner of the Six Dharma Sect, who had prepared a whole heap of arguments, was stunned. Only after a long while did he say:

"If the btsanpo is willing, the Supreme Dharma King would like to meet his nephew in Chang'an. If you have the Buddha-nature, in the future you may return to Lhasa to become a living Buddha."

Tri Wangxuzan naturally knew what status a living Buddha of the Six Dharma Sect held. But he had already been frightened out of his wits by this kind of power struggle, and immediately waved his hand.

"Your nephew has no Buddha-nature. I only enjoy rare delicacies, fine wine, and sweet drinks. But perhaps my descendants may have some Buddha-nature."

Lunzhen truly understood now, and slowly nodded. "It is no matter if he lacks the Buddha-nature. The Supreme Heaven has prepared great mansions of three hundred rooms each for the Tsenpo in Chang'an, Luoyang, and the Eastern Capital.

Every year, the taxes of Ru are all converted to cash and delivered to the Tsenpo, enough to let the Tsenpo's whole family live at ease in the flourishing lands of the Central Plains."

Ru was an administrative division of the Tibetan Empire; Ru was essentially the area around Lhasa.

Chiwang Xuzan nodded with satisfaction. "I have heard that many people from the mountains, when they go down to the lowlands, cannot necessarily adapt."

Lunzhen immediately said: "Then he may go to Kangding County, north of Ya'an Prefecture, to enjoy the cool air."

Chiwang Xuzan had originally wanted to say that it would be even better if he could enjoy the cool air in Qingtang — that is, the Han people's Huangshui Prefecture — but he did not dare mention it, because the Supreme Heaven would certainly not permit it.

"In that case, many thanks to the honored envoy. If there is anything you need me to do, I will surely give my support."

Outside Lhasa, this strange affair — one could not quite say whether it was a battle or a gathering — had already been bustling noisily for five or six full days.

Inside the city, they stood as if facing a great enemy; outside the city, they ate and drank without restraint. It went on until the great families and nobles inside the city truly could not hold out any longer.

They sent envoys to ask, and every answer they received was equally baffling.

Clearly so many great worthies and rinpoches of the Six Dharma Sect were expounding the sutras, yet they insisted it was the Gar clan come back for revenge, demanding the Tsenpo lead a great army out to fight to the death.

It was simply insane!

The great figures of the Lhasa royal line racked their brains, yet could not think what scheme or trick lay behind it.

But they knew very well that they could not now allow the Six Dharma Sect to keep making trouble outside. If this went on, the people's hearts would all be won over by them, and they themselves would likely receive fox tails from the great and small tribes.

One could not blame these people for being unable to sit still. On the Qingtang Plateau, the Bon religion had already trained the people into a deeply religious atmosphere, and the doctrines and methods of the Six Dharma Sect crushed Bon — still a rather primitive religion — in many respects.

Indeed, if they did not go out to fight, the common people of the great and small tribes outside the city would all be lured away by the Six Dharma Sect.

Of course, the days they had waited had not been entirely without meaning, because Lhasa actually had very little armed force.

After all, it was the great families who upheld the Tsenpo — it was not Cao Mengde holding the Son of Heaven to command the feudal lords. So each family, by tacit agreement, had kept its family's armed strength in its own sphere of influence, and those who came to Lhasa brought only basic guards.

With these few days of buffer, each great family had already transferred to Lhasa the troops that belonged to it and were close to the city.

The rumbling of footsteps came. The Tsenpo Chiwang Xuzan wore golden precious armor — a most magnificent suit of mingguang armor, clearly from the palace treasures of the Li-Tang court.

Although Chiwang Xuzan's build was not imposing, this suit of mingguang armor set him off like a celestial being.

Behind the Tsenpo were the private troops of the Lu Hui, Ba, Re, and other political-military groups, and of great families such as the Mo-lu clan — a vast host of more than twenty thousand men, of whom at least eight thousand were armored soldiers and armored cavalry.

They formed their battle lines by family districts, and could be counted as the strongest military force to appear at Lhasa in the last ten or twenty years.

On this side, Lun Boren, together with Langjie Jiangcuo and the others, had also drawn up the ten thousand-odd infantry and cavalry who had come up onto the plateau. Though they were fewer in number, they too had roughly five or six thousand armored soldiers and armored cavalry. On both sides, at least in terms of elite troops, they were evenly matched.

Or rather, Lun Boren's side, uniformly wrapped in white battle robes and well supplied with bows and crossbows, looked somewhat more martial and imposing.

Seeing that a real fight was about to begin, the thrill-seekers by the Re Sa River grew even more excited. They called friends and companions to gather around the two great armies, black and dense as crows, settling over every spot, all waiting to enjoy the spectacle.

Of course, there were also some devout Buddhists who chose to stand with Lun Boren and the others, but their numbers were not great — only around ten thousand.

Lun Boren stood on high ground, rose on tiptoe, and squinted toward the opposite side. At last, not far from the Tsenpo Chiwang Xuzan, he spotted Lunzhen, who had deliberately put on a red robe yet wore a white hat.

Lun Boren was overjoyed. He then ordered his attendants to put on him his silver-white cloth-faced iron armor, don his composite iron helmet, take up his long lance, and, escorted by two elite cavalrymen, came to the center between the two armies' front lines.

"Today's struggle arises from the centuries of enmity between our two families. What wrong did my ancestors do? They served Great Tibet with all their heart, yet ended up dead and scattered. Today I do not wish to cause much slaughter. I ask the Tsenpo to come out and settle it with me, man to man — victory or defeat by each one's own skill. How about it?"

The heads of the Lu Hui, Mo-lu, and other families were stunned. Are you playing house?

And they could well imagine that at this moment, beneath the iron helmet, the Tsenpo's face must be livid.

Because the Gar clan had always produced fierce generals, and Lun Boren across from them looked at a glance like a battle-hardened warrior.

Yet the Tsenpo Chiwang Xuzan was already past forty. That he could put on several dozen jin of armor today and still ride his horse was already quite good — how would he dare go up and fight Lun Boren alone?

But, beyond everyone's expectations, the Tsenpo Chiwang Xuzan actually pressed his horse's flanks and rode slowly forward, with two guards, putting on the appearance of going out to fight.

For a moment, the thrill-seekers roared with mountain-and-sea-shaking cheers, while the family heads felt their whole worldview about to shatter — they even forgot to stop him.

"Not good! The Tsenpo is leaving!" It had to be the head of the most powerful Lu Hui group whose mind was quickest. He suddenly realized something was wrong — this was no duel; the Tsenpo was about to flee!

He waved his hand, and more than ten riders immediately chased after the Tsenpo Chiwang Xuzan.

And almost at the same moment, the Tsenpo on horseback suddenly lashed his horse's rump hard and galloped at full speed toward the other side.

And the guards beside the Tsenpo actually drew their blades, aimed at the riders pursuing from the Lu Hui family, and began killing outright.

F***!

So that was it. The heads of the other families immediately caught on as well, and were about to order their cavalry to pursue.

But Lun Boren spurred his horse straight forward in a charge. In his silver armor, he galloped and shouted, "The Lu Hui family has held the Tsenpo hostage and slaughtered lamas! Today I kill only him!"

His shout had not yet faded when a gong sounded, and from the Zhou army's formation burst a squadron of elite cavalry prepared long in advance, flying like the wind toward the Lu Hui family head. As for the Tsenpo, he had long since been escorted by them and was galloping toward the Zhou army's side.

"Whoa!" After a single, perfectly synchronized gasp of astonishment, all the thrill-seekers watching were stunned. This was far too thrilling!

Almost at the same time, the heads of every family except the Lu Hui, hearing the roof-shaking cry of "kill only the Lu Hui family," hesitated and muddled along, failing to respond in time.

Then, they saw the Lu Hui family head, who had little defense prepared, simply overwhelmed, and the Lu Hui family's battle formation scattered and broken.

The other families did not know whether they should join in, and before long they saw the Zhou army, with armored infantry as its center and cavalry sweeping in from both wings.

Those thrill-seekers gathered around, seeing that the battle seemed about to become one-sided, also began to stir restlessly.

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