Chapter 808: Zanpu, Come and Bow Before Your Grandaunt

The emissaries of the Brocade Guard set off at great speed, racing from one relay station to the next almost without pause, heading west.

There was a reason Zhang Zhao had said "see that she comes to no harm."

In this age, traveling eastward twenty thousand li from Talas, even a man in his prime could very well die on the road, let alone a woman.

And as for the officials below, there were plenty who knew how to read the Emperor's mind.

They would reason that although the Emperor had been magnanimous and not pursued the matter, he must still be rather displeased at heart.

So if I were just a little harsher and let this little woman die on the road, would that not be a fine service? The Sage might say nothing aloud, but it would surely be noted in the imperial heart!

It was precisely because he understood the mentality of those below him so well that Zhang Zhao had issued such an order.

This Hamid might well already have died of illness, for all anyone knew, so using someone like Guo Zhou'er to go to Bukhara and raise Hamid's son Mansur could be counted as planting a sharp dagger in the very heart of Samanid Persia!

With an inside agent of such high standing, the Central Plains dynasty could calmly exploit every opportunity to spread its influence into Samanid Persia, step by step drawing that state away from the not-yet-fully-extinguished Abbasid Caliphate and placing it under the Central Plains dynasty's protection.

Then it could keep stirring up trouble between the Persians and the Arabs, until twenty or thirty years later, once the next generation, brainwashed by the Great Zhou, had grown up, the Persians could be driven forward as the vanguard to attack the Arabs.

Let the Persians go to Baghdad, to Damascus, to Cairo, and play the collaborator, while the true men of Zhou stayed on top as the overlords.

Zhang Zhao had never imagined he could fully occupy West Asia, because that was impossible, or at least exceedingly difficult, but ruling it for a hundred or two hundred years, plundering vast wealth, and leaving a claim for his descendants was still feasible.

And so Guo Zhou'er, whom Zhang Zhao had originally been indifferent to — whom he would not even have cared if she had simply been killed on the road — now could not be allowed to die.

If she died, finding another candidate so suitable would be difficult.

At worst, he would have to send Sefiye or Panteia back to Bukhara, and if it truly came to that, there would be even more variables, and then he really might end up cuckolded — or else the two sisters might seize real power, and whether they would still be willing to step down after ten years was far from certain.

Besides, the two sisters' political ability — well, one could not say they had none, but it was certainly below Shi Chonggui's, and they would find it hard to bear such a heavy responsibility.

Zhang Zhao's reading of the human heart was extremely accurate.

The Brocade Guard captain and the Divine Shot Garrison adjutant escorting the royal captives of the various Transoxiana states along the road did indeed entertain the idea of letting Guo Zhou'er die a "natural" death on the way, to win a place in the imperial heart.

Across the eight-hundred-li Moheyan Desert, yellow sand filled the sky, and pebbles the size of beans struck the face with a pain like someone pinching hard with two fingers.

Guo Zhou'er's glossy black hair had turned dry and yellow, her lips were cracked, and her once fair, tender face had become like withered bark, covered with fissures left by the relentless scourging of wind, sand, and blazing sun.

A hemp rope, not particularly thick, was gouged deep into Guo Zhou'er's shoulder, and at the other end of the rope was a bundle-like object made of ragged leather.

On this bundle, a small boy with an ashen face stared up at the sky, his mouth hanging wide open; his mouth and eyes, which could no longer close, were filled with yellow sand.

Clearly, he had been dead for quite some time.

Guo Zhou'er dragged the bundle with all her might, struggling forward across the sands of the Moheyan Desert.

Zhang Sheng, the Divine Shot Garrison adjutant, walked up to the front and looked at this woman he had originally detested. He was silent for a long while, then advised:

"The man is dead. Leave him in the desert. The yellow sands of the Moheyan Desert are the finest grave there is."

Guo Zhou'er glanced at the water flask wrapped in layers at Zhang Sheng's waist. After waiting a little while and realizing Zhang Sheng was not going to give her a drink, she gave up all hope and shook her head stubbornly. Looking at the girl beside her, she said:

"Don't worry, A'Qi. If you die, your aunt will drag you out just the same. I won't let you suffer the indignity of lying exposed to the yellow sand after death."

Guo Zhou'er's eldest brother had entrusted the two boys and one girl to her, his thought being to leave behind descendants.

But just as her brother had not held firm in his loyalty to the Sage, had betrayed his ancestors and sullied the glory of their forefather Guo Xin, and so met with retribution, the two boys had died one after another, and now only this girl, Qiniang, remained.

Qiniang raised her head and, looking at the haggard Guo Zhou'er, nodded very seriously. "Don't worry, Aunt. If you die, A'Qi will surely drag you out of this yellow sand too."

Zhang Sheng listened beside them, stunned. For some reason, a nameless irritation suddenly rose in his heart, as though someone were clawing ceaselessly at his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys with their hands.

"Fuck your mother, fuck your mother, fuck your mother!" Zhang Sheng cursed three times in his agitation, took the water flask from his waist, and hurled it hard onto the ground in front of Guo Zhou'er.

"Damn slave. How could a person like this, with such heroic ancestors, end up in such a plight?"

Guo Zhou'er fought down the urge to throw herself at the flask and drain it in one gulp. With tremendous self-control, she bowed to Zhang Sheng, then picked up the flask and first gave water to Qiniang, who was on the verge of dehydration, while she herself kept swallowing saliva that had long since ceased to exist.

"Past the Moheyan Desert is Hexi. There's more than one or two people who want you dead. Whether you survive will be up to Heaven." Zhang Sheng finished speaking, pointed at the sky, and then walked away without looking back.

Behind the crowd, the Brocade Guard captain Yin Shisilang, dressed in a white robe, watched Zhang Sheng with a grin. "You bumpkin, I told you long ago you wouldn't be able to go through with it, and you didn't believe me."

Zhang Sheng, who always loved to argue, for once did not retort. Instead he heaved a heavy sigh. "That woman is a hard one! I should have found a chance to shove her off a cliff the first time I laid eyes on her."

Budu Fort — the first military outpost after crossing the Moheyan Desert, named for the line "the spring breeze does not pass Yumen Pass" — stood roughly near the eastern outlet of what later generations would call Xingxing Gorge. Past Budu Fort lay Shazhou and Dunhuang.

Dunhuang was Sage Zhang's home ground, the place where the Guiyi Army had risen. Though it had not won the title of a capital city, it was at this time the Buddhist capital.

The plateau south of the Altun Mountains, the four myriarchies of Moxi north of Gua-Sha, and indeed the entire plateau — when people came to worship the Buddha in ordinary times, they basically all came to Dunhuang. Only when summoned by the Emperor did they go to the Chengtian seat at Liangzhou Prefecture or to Chengde Prefecture.

Therefore, Budu Fort, as the western gateway to Dunhuang, though it sounded like a mere military outpost, was in fact very large, and ever since the Silk Road had flourished, people coming from the west into the Great Zhou had been shoulder to shoulder, jostling in an endless stream.

Guo Zhou'er stared at the tall gate of Budu Fort in the distance, and at the line stretching a full half-li outside the gate, dumbstruck.

There were so many traveling merchants that a huge market had formed outside the gates of Budu Fort, where merchants from all over also came to trade various goods.

Besides the trading area, there were food stalls run by locals from Shazhou, selling crisp sesame cakes, steaming hot steamed buns and soup noodles, and snow-white steamed cakes made from finely sifted white flour.

There were even high-class treats like zenggao, made from glutinous rice, red dates, brown sugar, and other ingredients, as well as thick, fragrant rice wine whose very smell stopped passersby in their tracks.

As for beef and mutton — pah! That was hardly a rarity.

Hexi had little else, but it had plenty of cattle and sheep. At the same time, grain production was mediocre, so the rice wine and the glutinous rice from the provinces north and south of the river were the true rarities.

Qiniang made little croaking sounds, and involuntarily walked toward a vendor selling zenggao. The glistening, fine white glutinous rice and the brown sugar that looked as though it were about to drip honey completely robbed this much-suffering little girl of her reason.

The vendor was not surprised. The Moheyan Desert was no place for humans. For someone who had just come through that hell and suddenly laid eyes on Budu Fort, going a little mad was only normal.

This vendor's surname was Chen — the same Chen as the family of Sage Zhang's great-grandmother.

He had deliberately set up his stall here, because under the extreme shock of having just crossed the Moheyan Desert and suddenly seeing civilization again, those traveling merchants were often willing to pay two or three hundred wen for a small piece of his zenggao.

They paid no mind that the normal price of this piece of zenggao was only a few wen. It was as though what they were buying was not zenggao, but a pass back into the land of the living.

The Chen vendor had spotted this huge procession from far off and was just calculating whether he had enough zenggao to sell, when he saw this little girl come walking over as if possessed.

The vendor was about to kick her away, when he suddenly noticed that although the girl was in a wretched state, she did indeed have black hair and black eyes and a standard Han face. At once, his expression relaxed.

He deftly cut off a large piece of zenggao into a wooden bowl. Life in the Central Plains was so good now; anyone who could still drag their whole family westward was, in the Sage's words, a hero of our people.

"Aiyo, whose little girl is this? So pitiful, to suffer the hardships of the Moheyan Desert at such a young age. Come, have a piece of zenggao to steady yourself — no charge!"

The zenggao was almost in Qiniang's hands, and a smile had even appeared on Guo Zhou'er's face, because from far off she had seen how this vendor beat the Hu merchants' servants who came begging without the slightest mercy.

But at that very moment, the Chen vendor caught sight of the Brocade Guard captain in the white robe among the procession. "Yin Shisilang, it's you, back again. And this is...?"

Yin Shisilang snatched the bowl of zenggao, wolfed it down in a few bites, then grabbed the wine gourd from Chen's waist and gulped it down — glug, glug. At a rare pause, he nodded and squeezed out a few words through his teeth: "That's right. The Guo family of Suyab."

"He—tui!" The peddler Chen's face changed drastically. He shoved Qiniang, who had come over to beg, to the ground, spat a thick wad of phlegm at her, and kept wiping his hands on Yin Shisilang's body, as if he had just been contaminated.

"Damned slave wretch, you still want to eat my zenggao? I wouldn't sell it to you even if you paid! Go eat shit!"

Guo Zhou'er froze. She had not cried through all the thousand hardships of the journey, but now, with every drop of moisture in her body nearly evaporated, her defenses shattered completely. She staggered and crouched down on the ground, mouth open in a nearly soundless wail, like a wild beast cast out by its pack.

"Ah! Emir! It really is you! Emir! How could this be? How could this be!"

Just as Guo Zhou'er was weeping, a Hu merchant waiting in line to pass the checkpoint suddenly cried out in anguish too.

Because he realized that the tall man trussed up like livestock was none other than the Emir of Shiguo City — their king.

And he himself was a Hu man of Shiguo City.

At once, the crowd outside Budu Stockade stirred. Many people recognized Talib of the Kelik tribe and the other Oghuz Inals. One by one their faces turned deathly pale as they whispered frantically among themselves, and some wailed aloud.

"Woo—woo!"

A conch horn sounded. The gates of Budu Stockade opened, and a troop of cavalry in silver-white war surcoats over black iron lamellar armor galloped out.

When the Hu people outside the stockade saw this, they stopped their weeping and clamor one after another. With a great rustling sound they all dropped to their knees on the ground, and even the camels they led were mostly pulled down to kneel as well.

The officer in the lead pointed his long lance. The Sogdian merchant from Shiguo City, the first one who had cried out, trembled and knelt prostrate on the ground, not daring to move, like an antelope singled out by a fierce tiger. Then he was led away like a dog on a leash.

Seeing this, Emir, the governor of Shiguo City, suddenly began to shout madly, wailing with tears and snot streaming down his face.

The officer wheeled his horse around, rode a few paces, then dismounted. He took a long horsewhip from the side of his horse and, as if whipping a wild dog, lashed Emir and his companions until they rolled all over the ground. He did not stop until they no longer dared make a sound.

Guo Zhou'er, who had been utterly grief-stricken, stared at all this in shock. She watched Emir — a man who in the eyes of the people of the River Lands was like an emperor — being beaten bloody by a mere squad captain who commanded fifty men, and everyone seemed to find it perfectly normal.

So a ruler who governed hundreds of thousands of people was, in their eyes, nothing more than a noisy mixed-blood Hu?

Bound hand and foot, yet with a physician accompanying him, precisely so he would not die on the road. Guo Guangyi's eyes went wide too. He watched Emir rolling on the ground, then looked up at the towering gates of Budu Stockade, no one knowing what was going through his mind.

After the brief commotion, the gates of Budu Stockade opened. Zhang Sheng, escorting captives to the capital, naturally had no need to queue.

After the guard squad captain came over and saluted Zhang Sheng, the armored soldiers dispersed in all directions to keep order.

And once the armored soldiers of Budu Stockade spread out, countless Hu people all around pressed in. Each held high a wooden placard carved with name, place of origin, and goods, standing there like pigs and sheep waiting to be chosen by their master.

Zhang Sheng looked at Guo Zhou'er and grinned smugly. "These are all waiting for us to pick. Follow us through the pass, take the Han passage — fewer procedures, faster crossing. Otherwise, you line up honestly at the stockade gate, and half a day's wait is considered fast."

Then Zhang Sheng looked at his soldiers and shouted: "One string of cash per person, each man brings one, no more than that."

Guo Zhou'er, however, pointed at some Hu men swaggering not far away. They roughly shoved aside other Hu people crowding around, and walked through the Han-only passage with no one stopping them.

She asked in a low voice: "Where are those Hu from? How can they use the sons of Tang passage?"

Zhang Sheng raised his head and exchanged a cupped-hand salute with a yellow-haired, black-eyed Hu man inside.

"Those are no Hu, don't talk nonsense. If they hear you, at best you'll get cursed out, at worst they'll come over and beat you. See the jade plaques at their waists? They're Khotan Golden Country people."

"Whoa! So they're Golden Country folk. Those fellows have really made it — just like that, they've become sons of Tang." Chi Tian said loudly from behind, full of envy.

"I, Sage Zhang, built my rise on the Khotan Golden Country, so of course Khotan Golden Country people get preferential treatment. In the present Zhang Zhou, anyone with Khotan Golden Country registration, no matter what they look like, enjoys the treatment of a son of Tang."

Zhang Sheng shot Chi Tian a glare. "Why aren't you off picking a Hu to carry your pack? What are you still doing here? One string of cash too little for you, is it?"

Chi Tian started, then pointed at his somewhat purple-red hair and beard and asked, overjoyed: "This one counts as a son of Tang too?"

"Of course. If you, Chi Tian, don't count as a son of Tang, then no one does. Not just you — your whole family are sons of Tang. When you reach the Eastern Capital, the Sage may even grant you a surname."

Zhang Sheng said this loudly, drawing gasps from those nearby. Chi Tian stood stunned for a long moment, then tears streamed down his face. All the suffering, it seemed, had finally turned sweet at this moment.

At the Western Capital Chengtian, Liangzhou Prefecture, nine-year-old Seljuk stared at the scene before him, too astonished to close his mouth.

To his nine-year-old eyes, this city did not seem like anything that could exist in the mortal world.

Walls several zhang high, two- and three-story buildings packed row upon row on both sides, and the tide of people coming and going on the streets — it seemed there were more people here than in his entire tribe.

The clean streets made him feel ashamed of himself. He hardly knew how to set his feet down, as if afraid his filthy soles would defile this fairyland.

A fragrance of honey mixed with meat drifted over. Seljuk swallowed constantly, following the scent to its source and peering through a window.

A man in silk clothes was picking up a piece of glistening, translucent fat meat with his chopsticks. A drop of honey dripped down, reddish-brown meeting lustrous white. The sight struck Seljuk so hard that the saliva in his mouth surged out like a tide.

Yin Shisilang rather liked this boy — clever, quick-witted, diligent and eager to learn, grasping many things at a single hint, and with a solid foundation. At such a young age, both his riding and archery already showed proper form.

He had already written these traits into his report to Commander Zhang Lieming, and of course he had included them in his secret memorial to the Emperor as well.

Seeing that Seljuk was now so hungry he could not move his legs, Yin Shisilang smiled, walked into the food shop, brought out a portion of rock-sugar red-braised pork, and gently placed it into Seljuk's hands.

In truth, in this era, the best pork was more expensive than beef or mutton.

Of course, "the best pork" meant those great fat hogs raised in clean conditions, force-fed fine grain, with fat five fingers thick.

Fat was, in times of scarce resources, humanity's highest pleasure. Every bite represented not just fine food, but a guarantee that one was more likely to survive than others.

Seljuk took only one bite, and his whole body trembled. Tears burst from his eyes. In that moment, it was as if Tengri had descended, and the whole world turned sweet.

Then, to everyone's astonished stares, the boy moved his little legs, ran over to Talib, who was bound in chains, stood on tiptoe, and fed the rock-sugar red-braised pork into Talib's mouth.

After watching Talib take a bite, Seljuk ran further back to feed his mother, his aunt, his younger brothers and sisters. From beginning to end, he himself had only allowed himself that single bite.

Talib, who had long since lost all his former might, wept with tears and snot streaming. Emir, the governor of Shiguo City, watched Talib jealously, then looked at Seljuk's retreating figure and suddenly let out a long sigh.

Even Yin Shisilang could not help being moved by this scene. He looked at Talib and said with some emotion:

"Who would have thought that a den of thieves could produce such a qilin child. Perhaps the days ahead for your Kelik tribe will not be so hard."

The procession stopped before the yamen of the Hexi Provincial Administration. Past Liangzhou lay the true heartland of the Central Plains.

By regulation, when border troops like the Divine Shot Garrison reached this point, they had to store their armor and heavy bows and crossbows in the arsenal of the Hexi Defense Commissioner's yamen. They could carry only simple weapons such as hengdao sabers.

As for the task of continuing the escort, they would have to wait here for the Hexi Defense Commissioner to dispatch garrison troops to take charge of it.

An unnatural flush had risen on Qiniang's face. Her teeth were clenched tight, and she was racked by fits of convulsions. She had in fact already fallen into a high-fever seizure.

Guo Zhou'er knelt there at the yamen gate, her eyes full of despair. From Budu Stockade to Liangzhou was a full seventeen hundred li, and she truly could not hold on any longer. She turned, pointed at Guo Guangyi, and said through gritted teeth:

"Colonel Yin, because of this wretch's rebellion, Lord Bai slaughtered all three thousand members of Li Guoshou's clan at Talas, and all one hundred thirty members of the Guo traitor's household.

Of the two hundred seventy thousand people of Suyab and Talas combined, sixty thousand implicated have been executed to the last, not even a chicken or dog left alive.

Everyone has paid a terrible price for their wavering. I too deserve death, but Qiniang is only seven years old — can she not be allowed to live? Even if she is consigned to the Music Bureau, she should at least be treated for her illness!"

Yin Shisilang was silent for a moment. "Under the whole of Heaven, every inch is the sovereign's land; to the farthest shore, every man is the sovereign's subject. Thunder and rain, dew and frost, all come from above. Who lives and who dies, the Sage alone decides."

As he spoke, Yin Shisilang pointed toward a messenger galloping in from the distance, bearing a small silver-white flag with a golden sun — the emblem of the Emperor's personal envoy.

The visitor was Suo Gude, who held the nominal title of Embroidered-Uniform Personal Guard Grand General but never actually managed any affairs.

He was the grandson of Suo Xun, the fourth Military Governor of the Guiyi Army, and had long been in the Eastern Capital helping the Emperor manage the Qionglin Academy — that is, the imperial library. No one expected him to arrive now as an imperial envoy.

But Yin Shisilang immediately understood why, for on the shoulder-litter behind Suo Gude sat an old woman with hair and beard all white.

This old woman was none other than Suo Gude's paternal aunt, and Sage Zhang's paternal cousin-aunt, Lady Suo.

Since the death seven years ago of Lady Zhang Li, daughter of Zhang Yichao, the Emperor Huanzu Ding, and his last descendant, the nearly eighty-year-old Lady Suo — as Zhang Yichao's own maternal granddaughter — was the only one of Zhang Yichao's third-generation descendants still alive, the only living auspicious relic who had ever seen Zhang Yichao.

With a status like hers, even the Emperor would personally support her shoulder-litter when she traveled, as a mark of respect. Yin Shisilang, as a member of the Guiyi Army, naturally understood the gravity of it, and in two or three strides he ran forward to bow and pay his respects.

Lady Suo was in excellent health. Naturally so — the Zhang family had now produced a sage sovereign and was about to unify the realm. Lady Suo had walked out of the suffering of the Guiyi Army's fratricidal strife, and seeing the present prosperity, even if she had originally been fated to live only to seventy, she could now live to eighty or ninety from sheer contentment.

Suo Gude and Lady Suo had come at Guo Tiance's entreaty, for Guo Tiance's son was betrothed to Suo Gude's granddaughter, which was why Guo Tiance had been able to prevail upon Lady Suo.

The chicken-skinned, crane-haired Lady Suo slowly advanced. In Guo Zhou'er's eyes, she seemed like a deity come to her rescue.

Lady Suo looked her up and down. "She really is a formidable one. A delicate little thing who walked ten thousand li on foot without ending up a corpse in the wilderness — she truly does bear some resemblance to my fourteenth aunt."

The "fourteenth aunt" Lady Suo spoke of was Lady Zhang Li, who had died seven years before — Li Cunhui's great-grandmother.

This woman had been no simple person. Sixty years ago, she had killed Lady Suo's father, Suo Xun, and helped her nephew Zhang Chengfeng seize back the family enterprise.

Then she and several of her sons had attempted to seize the position of Military Governor of the Guiyi Army for themselves, and in the end was killed in turn by Zhang Chengfeng. Of her four sons, only one survived.

See — when it came to betrayal and slaughter, the Guiyi Army after Zhang Yichao could not exactly be called practiced hands, but they could certainly be called utterly deranged.

"I beg the Old Ancestor to save this girl's life!" Guo Zhou'er struck her head against the ground, yet held Qiniang raised high.

Lady Suo nodded, and the physician attending at her side took Qiniang over. After a long moment he said in a low voice, "Pernicious wind has entered the body. The illness has reached the marrow. Whether she lives depends on her fate."

High fever with convulsions — even in later ages it was very dangerous. In this time, it truly could only be left to fate.

Lady Suo nodded. "This counts as having died once. If she can live, then it is Heaven's will."

Then she looked at Guo Zhou'er. "With such perseverance, how did you fall to such a state?"

Guo Zhou'er kowtowed again, blood streaming from her forehead. "Mother died when I was two, father when I was eight. My brother is contemptuous, my sister-in-law greedy. Surrounded by wolves on every side, how could I have any say? I only regret I did not die sooner."

"Ai!" Lady Suo let out a long sigh. "Your elder sister took grave risks for you. Your nephew was exiled to Lhasa for you. In days to come, you must repay them well!"

Hearing Lady Suo speak thus, Guo Zhou'er's tears fell like rain. Then her taut nerves suddenly slackened, her body went limp, and she collapsed directly to the ground.

Just then, a great clamor arose outside, and someone came to report: "Grandmother, the Tsenpo of Lhasa has arrived."

Everyone suddenly gazed into the distance. The Tsenpo of Tibet!

To the Central Plains of this time — and especially to the people of Hexi and Longyou — that was a being who seemed to dwell above the ninth heaven, one who had once pressed down on everyone until they could scarcely breathe!

Lady Suo was first startled, then flew into a rage. At her age, as someone who had lived through the era of Zhang Huaishen, she had no good impression of the Tsenpo, and so she erupted in fury.

"So what if he is the Tsenpo? Let him come and pay his respects to his grand-aunt!"

Well, she was not wrong. The Tsenpo, Chiwang Xuzan, called Zhang Zhao his maternal uncle, so Lady Suo was indeed the Tsenpo's grand-aunt.

Guo Guangyi, bound in the prisoner's cart, heard this and began struggling violently.

The words "Tsenpo of Tibet" were thunderous not only in the Central Plains but in Transoxiana as well.

After the Great Tang, who had stopped the Arabs from expanding further east? Naturally, it was the mighty hero, the Tsenpo of Tibet.

So — so the Central Plains truly had revived! Even the Tsenpo had come down from the mountains. Guo Guangyi let out a garbled wail with the half of his tongue that remained. Only now did he understand that he truly had chosen the wrong path.

(Since some readers have raised objections, this character will be written about less from now on. Readers just need to know that this person is in Bukhara, helping control the Samanid Persian court and driving a wedge between the Persians and the Arabs.

One more thing: critical opinions are welcome — that has always been Tiger's attitude — but going too far with words is not advisable. For those who truly cannot keep reading, let us part on good terms.)

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