Chapter 216: Old Feng Goes Beyond the Frontier

On the land of the Three Garrisons of Doyan, unlike the Central Plains, the ground was covered in withered yellow grass, and the clouds hung very low, giving one a fresh and carefree feeling. On this grassland, herds of cattle and sheep galloped joyfully, while some burly Uriankhai men rode horses, waving leather whips and shouting continuously.

If you listened carefully, their speech was not all the same—some spoke Mongolian and Uriankhai, but most spoke the Turkic language that came from further north.

Among the three Uriankhai tribes, many were of Turkic stock, with customs similar to the five Khalkha tribes of the north, and their herding habits were the same as the Mongols. During the Jingnan Campaign of Emperor Chengzu, they sent cavalry to assist and rendered great service. After years of contention, they were finally enfeoffed to dwell permanently on the lands of the Three Garrisons of Doyan—a rather distinctive arrangement in its own right.

Suddenly, one of the men raised his head, frowned, and asked in his own tongue: "Bantu, is there some commotion ahead?"

The Uriankhai man called Bantu who was asked was equally baffled, then immediately showed a very frightened expression. After consulting briefly with the few around him, he hurriedly drove the cattle and sheep back, saying:

"It should be the Qing soldiers coming again. Better leave quickly, or not even these few cattle and sheep will be left."

Their thinking was hardly unreasonable—after all, the people of the Great Ming had not set foot beyond the frontier in over ten years. Even Xifeng Pass was as good as undefended, breached time and again by Qing soldiers. Who else could come here but the Qing army?

"Clop, clop, clop..."

As the sound of hoofbeats drew nearer, the attire of the newcomers startled them. The one at the lead was wearing the official robes of the Great Ming court, and judging by the rank badge on his chest, he was clearly a high official. The two behind him wore the uniforms of Squad Leaders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and one more person held high a dark bird banner symbolizing the Great Ming.

Many people had heard of this banner. At the grand review ceremony the Ming people had held early this year, this new national flag had been used throughout, and now the major garrisons of the Nine Frontiers and various prefectural cities had successively replaced their banners as well—though these people had only heard of it, never seen it.

After all, the three Uriankhai tribes had all submitted to the Qing. Among the three tribes now, the Uriankhai main tribe, once of noble status, had become the most lowly—this was related to the seizure of power by the Ongniud tribe and the suppression suffered because their leader Urmai had repeatedly opposed the Qing forces.

They wanted to go see the Ming's grand review, said to be extremely magnificent, but many lacked the means. Doing so would neither gain the permission of the Ongniud tribe, nor could they answer to Dorgon's side, and the Qing army commander stationed here would not let it go—they would most likely be severely punished for it.

At this time, it was the sweltering heat of the eighth month. People in the capital dressed very lightly, and even the physicians of the Imperial Academy of Medicine, led by Wu Youke, were going about treating illnesses for free to ward off possible plagues.

Yet here beyond the pass on the lands of the Three Garrisons of Doyan, it was still the bitter cold of below-zero winter—by comparison, it seemed quite frigid.

But no snow had fallen here; the grass remained withered and yellow, and the cattle and sheep still ran about outside the dwellings. It was only that the air was dry and cracked while great winds howled, forcing people to bundle up thickly—most uncomfortable.

Watching the Ming envoys walk toward the leader's dwelling, many Uriankhai people could not understand why these pampered Celestial Court people would come to their lands to suffer.

It was hardly suffering, really. Along the way, though the temperature outside was unpleasant, they had not been out long before reaching the warm interior. For Feng Quan, since this trip was the Emperor's command, he had no choice but to come.

Either he would die beyond the frontier, or he would achieve a legend like Wang Zhaojun's departure beyond the frontier. Of course, if he succeeded, what the history books would praise might well be the story of Grand Secretary of the Jianji Hall Feng Quan going beyond the frontier to win over the three Uriankhai tribes.

Feng Quan was soon led by the Uriankhai herders into the dwelling, where he saw a large man of about forty-odd years with eagle-like eyes sitting by the stove warming himself. He gave a couple of coughs and stood in place without a word.

The man had already heard from others that someone had come from the Ming. Had this been the other Uriankhai tribes—the Ongniud or the Ujiyed—they would not have received him.

The leader of the Ongniud tribe, Sundulen, had married the daughter of Turgel and was a loyal lackey of the Jianzhou barbarians. And though the Ujiyed were descendants of the Mongol Golden Family, they had long since lost the blood of their ancestor Genghis Khan.

The current leader of the Ujiyed tribe, Yeduzhen, also bore a blood feud with Jianzhou, but Urmai had sought him out countless times—the fellow had always been timid and fearful, and out of dread of retaliation, he obeyed every word of the commander Jianzhou had sent to oversee him.

Honestly, Urmai truly did not understand how that fellow had managed to become a leader.

If this envoy had gone to the other two tribes, he would most likely have been taken captive and presented directly to the Jianzhou commander stationed on Doyan lands to claim merit.

Urmai was different. No matter what, he did not fear death. To avenge that blood feud, he had in fact been striving all along—but Jianzhou was too powerful, and the Ming side had remained silent with no word at all.

When he suddenly heard that an envoy had come from the Ming, Urmai was stirred—and he already knew it would not be some trivial matter.

Feeling this might be a heaven-sent opportunity to resist the tyranny of the Jurchen, Urmai did not hesitate. He immediately ordered his tribesmen to bring Feng Quan and his party in through the small door, and warmly entertained them with local milk and local wine, expressing his willingness to restore good relations with the Ming.

"Welcome, friends of the Great Ming, to this place. What business brings you here?"

The Urmai speaking before him had healthy bronze skin, and when standing, he was at least a head taller than Feng Quan—standing there like an impassable mountain. Feng Quan smacked his lips, forced himself to remain calm so as not to lose the dignity of a Celestial Court envoy, and said:

"This official is Grand Secretary of the Jianji Hall of the present dynasty, concurrently Minister of the Ministry of Works. Coming to this godforsaken place naturally means there is business—otherwise, who would be willing to come?"

Feng Quan smiled and continued: "The weather beyond the frontier is indeed bitterly cold. When this official left the capital, I deliberately added several layers of clothing, yet I still find myself shivering and my teeth chattering. Let those two outside come in as well—they have had a hard time of it."

"Bring them in." Urmai thought to himself that Celestial Court envoys certainly put on airs, but he was not angered. Glancing at the two Embroidered Uniform Guard members shivering by the door, he still nodded and said: "We are all rough folk here, ignorant of all your court's twists and turns. If you have something to say, say it—in this main tribe, this Urmai still has the final say."

While Urmai was speaking, Feng Quan mused inwardly—court officials had not set foot beyond the pass in at least ten-odd years, so how were these barbarians still so well informed about affairs within?

Thinking this, Feng Quan still wore a smiling face as he said: "His Majesty is very well informed of the recent situation beyond the frontier. Before I departed, he specifically instructed this official to bring some things over as a token of support, and to have a proper talk with the true masters of the three Uriankhai tribes."

Even though Urmai was a rough man, he still caught that phrase "true masters" upon hearing Feng Quan's words. He immediately let out a few cold laughs and said with resentment: "True masters? Then you, this high court official, should head north another few dozen li and find Sundulen of the Ongniud—not come to talk with this Urmai."

Seeing this, Feng Quan picked up the local milk wine and took a small sip. He was about to speak when he nearly spat it out, thinking to himself: What in the world is this stuff? Why is it so hard to drink?

But no matter how unwilling he was, what he had picked up himself, he still had to finish—after all, this was their way of hospitality. If there was one thing Feng Quan was good at, it was knowing what was what, understanding what to say and what to do in any given situation.

Frowning, he finished the drink, and sure enough, saw Urmai and the others burst into loud laughter. Only then did he speak:

"Compared to the finest tea of the Central Plains, this local milk wine has a flavor all its own—not bad, not bad. But what this official wishes to discuss is not the milk wine, but the intent of His Majesty, the Emperor of our Great Ming.

"The true master of the three Uriankhai tribes recognized by our Great Ming has always been you, Chief!"

"As for that Sundulen—let me tell you the truth—His Majesty does not even know when that junior popped out from some crack in a stone, nor how he could possibly be compared to you."

"After all, you are the eldest son of Hada. What is Sundulen, anyway? He only does evil by relying on the power of the Jianzhou barbarians. Now that our Great Ming has returned, how could we let him keep squatting on your head and shitting? Am I right?"