Chapter 256: Drawn by Reputation

The government office of the Jü'er Bay Hundred-Household Station was laid with thick woolen carpets.

Liu Chengzong sat in the middle, discussing the southward marching route with his left and right commanders.

Master Chen Shifo sat on the left with the Gama Monk; Chen Qindai sat on the right with Daiqing and Baiyan Taiji.

Right in the center, several oxhide or sheepskin maps were spread out, connecting Qinghai with Ü-Tsang.

The scene in the office was quite interesting — the Tibetan monks on the left and the Mongol noyans on the right all fixed their eyes, brimming with anticipation, on the Han generals huddled in discussion in the middle.

If the Gama Monk merely hoped Liu Chengzong would reclaim his homeland for him, the Mongol nobles seemed somewhat fanatical — they hoped Liu Chengzong could lead them to a place even farther away: Ü-Tsang.

This was very troubling for Liu the Lion.

These maps, joined together, sketched out a route from Qinghai through Kham to Ü-Tsang, but the characteristics of the three regions were starkly distinct.

Judging others by himself, Kham was crisscrossed with river valleys, Ü-Tsang was all snowy mountains and bitter cold — only beneath the Qilian Mountains, by the shores of Qinghai Lake, lay vast, boundless stretches of lush, fertile pasture.

And the political and religious center of the Snow Region was surely Lhasa, the capital of the Tubo.

As a Khan of the grasslands, his grazing lands, his troops, and his people were all in Qinghai.

Why were the Mongols so fervently eager to enter Tibet?

When Liu Chengzong raised his question, Baiyan Taiji was stunned for a long time.

First he shook his head with a blank stare, looking rather dim-witted.

Only after a while did he snap out of it and nod firmly: "We must enter Tibet to defend the faith!"

Defend your fat head.

Knowing Baiyan Taiji as he did, Liu the Lion understood that this Mongol noble, nominally a follower of the Yellow Hat sect, actually worshipped the Donkey-Meat Fire-Baked Cake sect.

His reverence for the leader Cao Yao surpassed that for any Buddha statue. Ever since he led his tribe to settle and graze north of the lake, he had been proselytizing within his own tribe, drawing countless Mongols to bring their own donkeys to the Lion Army to scrounge food and drink.

As the sect expanded and grew, signs of religious reformation had even begun to appear — lately they had been trying to get Cao Yao to try stewing lamb offal soup in a big iron pot.

Baiyan Taiji was equally baffled. No one had ever asked him why he wanted to enter Tibet, and he had never thought about why he himself wanted to enter Tibet.

Expecting him to suddenly lay out a clear rationale was unlikely, and he had no idea how to explain it to Liu Chengzong.

Liu Chengzong waited a long time before Baiyan Taiji finally managed a few words: "We have to keep an eye on the monks, otherwise we can't stay in Qinghai for long."

After thinking for a long while, Baiyan Taiji's speech finally grew coherent: "If we enter Tibet to defend the faith, the monks won't go find someone else to enter Tibet to defend the faith."

Liu Chengzong understood. To put it bluntly, Baiyan Taiji didn't care which faith he was defending. What mattered was making the monks of Ü-Tsang stop their infighting, settle down, and stop calling in outsiders to enter Tibet — that was crucial for them.

He asked: "Then when you enter Tibet, don't you suffer from altitude sickness?"

Baiyan Taiji was so amused by Liu Chengzong that he rocked back and forth with laughter: "Commander, what are you thinking? Of course we get sick — just not too many. Once you reach Nangqên, you tough it out and it passes."

Liu Chengzong sharply caught a word: "Nangqên?"

Baiyan Taiji understood then — this Han commander had never traveled south and didn't know the geography of entering Ü-Tsang from Kham.

He explained to Liu Chengzong: "If you don't climb the mountains, Nangqên is the highest place between Kham and Ü-Tsang, a bit higher than north of the lake. If you travel fast, some people get sick there."

"Maybe twenty or thirty out of a thousand get sick? It clears up in a few days. Past Nangqên, places like Lhasa and the Tsangpa Khan's Shigatse are all about the same elevation as north of the lake."

This time it was Liu Chengzong's turn to be stunned.

He had thought the Nangqên region, where Yushu was located, was the lowest part of Ü-Tsang — which was why the idea of a distant expedition had arisen in the first place.

And now you're telling me it's the highest place?

Moreover, he had always assumed the Mongols came and went through the Snow Region relying on high magic resistance. Now it turned out everyone was the same — they just relied on thick HP.

He said to Baiyan Taiji: "Your thinking is wrong. The more you enter Tibet to defend the faith, the more you'll swell the monks' power. They can casually support a few nobles, hand out a title, and get Mongol help — you're bound to become their puppets."

As he spoke, Liu Chengzong looked down at what he held in his hand — a list of names, now already bearing four.

Every person on it was a Khoshut chief willing to heed Liu Chengzong's call and join the allied army southward.

Their organizational structure was the league-banner system established by Dayan Khan's wife, Mandukhai Khatun, dividing the land into tracts of pasture, each tract a chiliarchy called an otog.

On that pasture, every Mongol had to be a herder household of that otog. In wartime, all herder households contributed troops to form an armed group called a khoshut; in theory, each otog needed to field around a thousand men.

Several otogs formed a tümen.

But in reality, Baiyan Taiji was the nominal tümen leader, yet he had no tümen — under him he could only muster three chiliarchies.

The names on this list read rather like a family tree.

For example, Baiyan Taiji's own name was: of the Right Wing Dölön Tümed tribe, great-great-grandson of Dayan Khan's fourth son Wozhe Huang Taiji, grandson of Buzhijir Taiji, son of Huoluochi — Borjigin · Baiyan.

Liu the Lion was bitterly disappointed — such an awe-inspiring clan name, how could he willingly degrade himself into a free thug for others?

Baiyan shook his head firmly: "What else can we do? They can grant the Khan title that everyone believes in. Once you hold the Dharma, you can..."

Baiyan had meant to say that holding the Dharma and possessing a Khan title would let you expand your territory, but at this point he couldn't continue.

Because Liu Chengzong cut him off with a scoff: "No, you can't."

Baiyan Taiji had long realized that the situation in Qinghai was shifting — this Han army encamped at the headwaters of the Huang River could bring myriad changes to Qinghai and even the entire northwest.

But for now, the deterrence this army brought was still not enough.

His gaze shifted to the Gama Monk across from him; perhaps they would find more common ground on this matter.

This land had never lacked rulers — it was just that every ruler had their own place they wanted to rule, and their reach fell short of farther horizons.

No one cared about having an overlord above their heads; to some degree, the local tyrants were all looking for a reliable overlord for themselves.

But this wasn't just about strength — it was also about resolve and will.

To Baiyan, the Great Ming Emperor in the Forbidden City thousands of li away and the Later Jin's Mandate of Heaven Khan enthroned in Shenyang both had plenty of strength — so what use was that?

"The Han people say, listen to their words and watch their deeds."

Baiyan looked into Liu Chengzong's eyes and said: "Right now, proving that a monk's title works is simple; proving that a monk's title doesn't work is hard. So it still works."

Liu Chengzong said nothing more.

He had learned something new.

In Shaanxi, he had learned that the power of rule comes from the hope of life.

In Qinghai, he was learning that the power of rule might also come from the possibility of death.

Sending troops to wipe out Baili King Dunyue Duoji would be more effective than wasting words for seven days and seven nights.

Soon, the news that Liu Chengzong was about to form a joint army with Bäyan Taiji for a southern campaign spread to Mongol tribes in every direction, carried back by herders who had come to Küer Bay to trade.

More and more Mongol nobles led their clans to come, drawn by reputation.

The reputation people were drawn to was neither Liu Chengzong's nor Bäyan Taiji's, but the name the monks might give them once they entered Tibet.

The long southward march was fraught with danger for most minor nobles who had only a few dozen herding soldiers.

But if they gathered together and formed a joint army, the road south would be open and unobstructed.

Even Liu Chengzong had not expected that in the lands of Qinghai, entering Tibet could hold such rallying power.

More and more herder tribes assembled near Qinghai Lake, keeping Liu the Lion extraordinarily busy. Every day he had to meet several newly arrived minor Mongol chieftains, chat with them accompanied by Chen Qindai, inspect their troop composition, and give out a few gifts.

To be honest, Liu the Lion had never imagined that giving away two iron pots, a few wooden chests, a goose-quill saber, or a woolen blanket could win the goodwill of an entire tribe.

People all said that Grand Commander Liu was an exceedingly generous man. Although he was Han, unlike the stingy emperor, they were very willing to follow him into battle.

So much so that after half a month of such days, Liu the Lion had even summed up a set of gift-giving rules. As long as he followed these rules, not one in ten would be a misstep.

Look at the chieftain's surname.

If they were surnamed Borjigin, descendants of the Golden Clan, giving two steel-inlaid axes was never wrong. If you added a goose-quill saber without fittings or scabbard but already sharpened, you would basically be as close as blood brothers.

But if they were not surnamed Borjigin, and were chieftains of minor tribes from remote places, then you had to bleed a little, giving two lacquered wooden chests and a set of silver jewelry worth three to five taels of silver before you would see a satisfied smile on their faces.

The rule was simple: the more Golden Clan they were, the more absurdly poor they were in ironware, armor, and weapons, but they were not short of exquisite heirloom objects.

Other minor tribes, having never fought a major battle with the Great Ming and lost little ironware, could basically maintain a poor self-sufficiency, and instead had a great demand for decorative items made by skilled craftsmen.

In fact, the latter was Liu the Lion's impression of Mongol warriors before he entered Qinghai.

Bäyan Taiji's tribesmen were well-nourished and of decent stature, but their equipment spanned an enormous range of eras. Most were stuck in the transition from the Stone Age to the Bronze Age, and only a few elite had already entered the Iron Age.

The situation with other tribes was exactly the opposite. For example, recently Liu Chengzong had met a man called Xie Erhu.

This Xie Erhu belonged to the Yüngshiyebü tribe. His original name was something like Barhu, but Liu Chengzong called him Erhu. Because he was from the Yüngshiyebü, his surname became Xie, so he was called Xie Erhu.

Xie Erhu had previously grazed his herds in the Qaidam Basin. Someone in his tribe, while digging a manure pit, accidentally struck gold, drawing the covetous eyes of others. They fought a battle and lost, so he took his tribesmen, along with their wives and children, over two hundred people in all, and fled here seeking shelter.

This tribe was small, and its people did not look like much either. Forty-four warriors, average height one meter six, and every one of them malnourished with bow legs.

Yet every one of them wore stiff leather armor studded with iron strips and copper nails. Open their quivers, and it was all bronze arrowheads. One of them could take on three of Bäyan's herding soldiers.

Liu the Lion had originally intended to give a set of three-tael silverware, but Xie Erhu said he had not eaten vegetables in several years.

The Lion thought, wanting to eat vegetables, how hard could that be? This was easy!

The great army was preparing to march, and the central army camp was busy preparing provisions for the troops. The man supervising this was Ma Ke, a local of Xining.

With a grand wave of his hand, the Lion sent forty jin of Ma Ke's handpicked Xining pickled vegetables to Xie Erhu.

Xie Erhu was overjoyed, exclaiming again and again how satisfying it was.

In the Qaidam Basin, he mainly snacked on rhodiola and goji berries. Though quite healthful, they ultimately could not be eaten as vegetables.

The place called Chudan was not very suitable for the living in the agricultural era.

The two great Yüngshiyebü tribes in Qinghai had entered Qinghai earlier than the Khorchins, but like the Khorchins, they had been crippled by the Ming army in the Three Victories of Huangzhong.

Later, the Yüngshiyebü had an internal feud with the Khorchins and lost. So the Khorchins occupied the fertile lands around the lake, while the Yüngshiyebü could only retreat to Greater Chudan and Lesser Chudan, beginning a harsh struggle for survival.

But each had its own advantages. In the east, eating vegetables was no luxury, but being neighbors with the Ming army meant you could not keep your life, and weapons and armor could not become family heirlooms. In the west, it was hardly fit for human survival, but without the Ming army, battling heaven and earth forged an extremely tenacious spirit.

By mid-April, the size of this force had already exceeded Liu Chengzong's expectations.

Bäyan Taiji, Lhazang, and Güüshi Huang Taiji each sent two thousand troops. The drifting bandits who had come from various places to enter Tibet had also assembled six thousand troops. A full twelve thousand soldiers, driving livestock, spread southward from Haibei.

These people each had their own goals, and no one could control these troops.

Although Liu Chengzong was the alliance leader, the chieftains he could truly control numbered less than half.

So many Mongols made the Lion Army's generals extremely uneasy. To maintain the alliance leader's position, they could only further increase the number of troops dispatched.

In the end, the Lion Army decided to turn this campaign to reclaim territory for the Nangchen region into a process of flaunting their military might to all of Qinghai.

Liu Chengzong selected from his three training battalions the Canjiang Wang Wenxiu and Cao Yao, the Qianzong Li Laochai, Zhang Tianlin, Zhong Hu, Luo Rucai, Gao Yingdeng, and Huang Shengxiao, picked seven thousand two hundred soldiers, organized them into the Left and Right Battalions, and marched south on campaign.

He left the Canjiang Yang Yao and the Qianzong Yang Chengzu, Wei Qian'er, and Han Shiyou to form a Garrison Battalion, stationed at Haibei and Küer Bay, forming a mutual horn-support with Liu Chengzu's forces in Xining to guard the home base.

Liu Chengzong did not intend to take all his troops with him. In fact, his goal was to split his forces and garrison key strategic points.

On the southern shore of Qinghai Lake, at the lakefront directly facing the mountain pass, he ordered Zhong Hu to lead twelve hundred troops to stay and garrison, planting a nail to seize the Chaka Salt Pool.

With this, the entire lake region was sealed off and incorporated into his own sphere of influence. Once the warships were built, they could rapidly provide support around all sides of Qinghai Lake.

They were not the first troops to set out, but they were the most conspicuous indicator within this expeditionary force numbering as many as twenty thousand.

The Mongol tribes stopped and camped as they went. Liu Chengzong's troops had all brought fried flour, but they found they did not need to eat it.

The Mongol tribes accompanying the army all accepted Lion notes. Each of the five Qianzong carried four hundred taels in notes. They had established a strict procurement procedure, permitting them to supplement eighty percent of their army provisions by purchasing cattle and sheep from the tribes camped along the route.

But they were forbidden from buying from only one tribe, to prevent buying up all of their cattle and sheep.

In practice, however, it proved that Liu Chengzong had overthought it. Every tribe had discovered the business opportunity. Along the way, they used items like axes to trade with surrounding Tibetan and Mongol tribes for cattle and sheep, and then sold them to Liu Chengzong's troops.

So much so that they ate wherever they went. On the march, one tael of notes bought four sheep, and both sides felt they had made a killing.

Though it was tiring, entering Golog from Gannan, the roads were difficult to travel, and each unit had a few soldiers who developed altitude sickness, Liu the Lion had never in his life marched so effortlessly!