Chapter 409: Spiral Ascent

With the entry of the Han army, immune to smallpox, Octagonal City, which had been shrouded in the cloud of death, was able to recover.

The man in charge of epidemic prevention was a young man named Chang Miaosheng. When Liu Chengzong left the army, he had camped one night at Laojun Market; later, this little boy fled to Black Dragon Mountain as a refugee and was taken in, sometimes following Liu Xiangyu, sometimes following Liu Chengyun.

Because the first person in the Marshal's headquarters to recognize germ infection was Liu Chengyun — as early as the Yan'an uprising stage during the decisive battle against Li Bei, he had realized that wounded soldiers with torn-open bellies needed to be placed in empty, uninhabited isolation camps for treatment, which could increase their chances of survival.

At that time, Chang Miaosheng, only twelve or thirteen years old, was already assisting at Chengyun's side.

So although Chang Miaosheng had never fought in a battle, in terms of epidemic prevention, he might be the person with the deepest understanding in the Marshal's headquarters.

Now in Octagonal City, he was still using Liu Chengyun's old strategy: quartering the sick Han and Mongol soldiers in separate zones according to the progression of their smallpox and the severity of complications, sprinkling lime everywhere inside the city, and arranging men to burn and bury the corpses outside the city walls.

The Chahar people had no objection to burning corpses; in fact, as enemies of the Great Ming, they, like the Jin Kingdom, were well aware of the Ming army's head-count reward policy.

If men died in battle, they would take them away with hooked spears if they could; if they couldn't, they would burn them or tie stones to them and throw them into the river.

No matter what, as long as no corpses were left behind, anything was acceptable.

So for Chang Miaosheng, the biggest obstacle to burning corpses was the need to dispatch quite a few soldiers to stop the Mongol soldiers from picking out śarīra relics.

When Liu Chengzong brought Eje into Octagonal City, they were burning people just outside the southwest corner of the city — over twenty people burned together, the wooden frames piled as high as the city wall, with several hundred Mongol soldiers standing in a circle outside pretending to be monks chanting sutras. It was quite a spectacle.

After the burning, there would not only be śarīra relics; with so many people, who could say if someone had false teeth or the like — some gold, some silver, some copper. If by chance someone had once been shot by a Frankish gun, it wouldn't be surprising if an iron ball came out of the fire either.

In any case, the dead bodies were collected, the sick herder-soldiers received medical treatment, and even if they died despite treatment, they could be carried out of the city for proper handling and burial. People's panic over smallpox was slowly fading.

What remained was more a sense of unease about an uncertain future.

Ligdan Khan forced himself to sit cross-legged on the couch. Though he tried his utmost to control it, he still could not make this body, ravaged by disease past the point of recovery, maintain the dignity of a Great Khan.

But that didn't matter.

With the war that had lasted for years finally drawing to a close, he had already lost too much in this war. He had long since had no dignity left; the empty frame collapsing at this moment made no difference.

The soft crackle of charcoal came from not far away. A fire burned in the tent, and the brewing medicine filled the air with a bitter taste. From farther off came the crackling pop of firecrackers, inside the city.

Ligdan Khan's body shrank with difficulty toward the corner of the bed. A sharp pain wracked his entire body. In his long life, he had never felt so utterly drained. He closed his eyes, opened them again, then closed them once more.

Before his eyes was not darkness, but simply an absence of color, an absence of perception. The feeling was very strange, as if he had reached out and opened his hand — he no longer had eyes.

This made him overly sensitive and anxious about sounds from the outside world. He cried out in alarm, "What is that sound?"

The several doctors brewing medicine in the tent looked at each other, none of them knowing what this Great Khan, sick beyond hope, was talking about. Only after he asked several times, each time more urgent than the last, did the doctors call in an attendant of Prince Sacu from outside, who answered, "Great Khan, the Grand Marshal has entered the city with Eje."

Ligdan Khan's face changed drastically. "Don't let Eje come here!"

If Liu Chengzong came and caught smallpox, that was just Liu's own wretched fate — but he must not harm his own son.

This put Prince Sacu's attendant in a very difficult position. He thought to himself, I'm just a squad leader of the personal guards under the Assistant General of the Right Chahar Battalion of the Farming Brigade in the Marshal's headquarters. Whatever the Grand Marshal Liu Chengzong wants to do, let alone me, even Prince Sacu can't control him.

The only response to the Great Khan was silence.

This guard squad leader pondered left and right, figuring that since the Khan couldn't see who he was anyway, he glanced left, then right — the tent was full of Han doctors who didn't understand Mongolian. After exchanging bewildered looks, he finally let out a yawn and retreated step by step out of the Khan's tent.

Leaving the Great Khan inside cursing and grumbling.

The sound of firecrackers drew near from afar, and soon Liu Chengzong, one hand on his saber and the other leading Eje, arrived at the entrance of the Khan's tent.

He handed Eje over to Prince Sacu and instructed, "When we enter the tent in a moment, you bring Eje inside but don't go far in and don't lower the curtain. Have Daozi go in and announce that I've arrived."

Prince Sacu was especially cautious. Smallpox posed no danger to those of them who had already had the pox, but for Eje, it was like running through a minefield where nine out of ten would die.

And for people like them, entering Octagonal City carried its own risk — plague. Too many people had died in this city.

Prince Sacu nodded heavily at these words and immediately crouched down to straighten the little fellow's clothes.

Eje's face was wrapped in a face cloth by Liu the Lion, and his body was wrapped in an airtight cotton robe, making his little face flush red from the stuffiness.

Liu Chengzong stood outside the tent only for a moment. Hearing Dai Daozi speaking inside and confirming that Hutun Tu had already gotten word of his arrival, he lifted his leg and entered the tent. Behind him, a guard brought forward a folding chair and placed it several paces away from the bed.

Having someone announce him was merely a courtesy. Liu Chengzong felt that Octagonal City was his own territory, and there was no place he could not enter.

A shaft of light fell from the round roof of the Khan's tent. Liu Chengzong sat in the shadows, looking at Ligdan Khan on the couch on the other side of the circle of light, who had misjudged the direction and turned his face to the other side. He spoke: "How are you feeling?"

Hearing his voice, Ligdan Khan turned his face, then heard Dai Daozi's translation. His brow furrowed slightly, but he soon let it go on his own. He gave no direct answer, only shook his head and said slowly, "I am surrounded by your doctors; you should know better than I do... Little Prince of the Southern Dynasty, I truly never imagined meeting you in this state. Where is Eje?"

Dai Daozi was very cautious in his translation, but under Liu Chengzong's signaling glance, he still said everything as it was.

Fortunately, he did not see any look of anger on Liu Chengzong's face. Quite the opposite — Liu the Lion bared his teeth in a silent grin before speaking: "Eje is at the door. He has been well protected and will not catch smallpox."

Hearing this, Ligdan Khan looked in another direction, as if wanting to see Eje. But a moment later, he closed his eyes in distress, his expression shifting rapidly — sometimes angry, sometimes sorrowful, and finally full of reluctance and pleading. He asked in a low voice, "How much longer do I have to live?"

Liu Chengzong did not know how to answer this question either. Even with his relatively numb humanity, it was hard to bluntly tell Ligdan Khan: You seem quite spirited right now; it's most likely a final rally before death.

He could only say, "We came out to contend for the realm; unfulfilled ambitions are unavoidable."

A look of anger appeared on the Great Khan's face. Damn you, easy for you to say "unavoidable" so lightly when you're not the one about to ascend to heaven.

In the past, he would certainly have quarreled with Liu Chengzong and then gone to war, but now he knew very well that his time was short, so he no longer cared about such things.

Then he heard Liu Chengzong ask, "Do you have any unfulfilled wishes? Like wanting to go out with some grandeur, or finding someone to write a few essays for you so your name is passed down to posterity. Whatever I can help with, I will do my best."

Ligdan Khan mumbled a few words indistinctly. Dai Daozi said, "Marshal, he said Mongolia and Eje."

Liu Chengzong couldn't help but laugh and curse, "That request is too big; I'm afraid I can't help. I can only guarantee Eje a lifetime free of want for food and clothing, but the title of Khan of Northern Yuan — he cannot inherit it."

No surprise showed on Ligdan Khan's face. Perhaps he had lost so much that he had grown numb. With exceptional calm, he asked, "You want Mongolia? I can give it to you — give you the Imperial Jade Seal of Northern Yuan."

"What difference does it make whether you give it to me or not? A few days ago, the Dzungar Taiji of the Oirats even said he would help build momentum for me, having the lamas of the steppe identify me as the reincarnation of Genghis Khan. I find that all of you think about things in a very naive way."

Liu Chengzong shook his head. "The history of Mongolia is too short, so much so that you don't understand: it is the nobles and officials who need you to support the lands and properties they have already seized, and that is why you have legitimacy."

"Your ancestor Genghis Khan was a minor chieftain; our Taizu Emperor was a commoner in plain cloth. What legitimacy did they have to possess the realm? This is not something a title or a seal can obtain — legitimacy."

Liu the Lion gave a disdainful smile. "That is merely an unrealistic fantasy born of prolonged peace."

"Peace?"

Hearing this word, Ligdan Khan couldn't help but laugh loudly. He mocked, "Ever since I ascended the throne, I've been called a starving wretch by you people. I don't even know what peace is."

"True." Liu the Lion accepted the criticism like flowing water and immediately admitted his mistake. "You are right; I didn't consider it thoroughly enough. As long as one is sufficiently weak, this kind of unrealistic fantasy will also arise."

Ligdan Khan desperately wanted to curse someone.

But Liu Chengzong gave him no chance to curse, simply continuing on his own: "This land suffers great chaos every two or three hundred years. Every dynasty has its time of ascent and its time of decline."

Ligdan Khan was frantic inside. Damn it, my time is running out — what use is it to lecture me about this?

Then he heard Liu Chengzong continue: "All periods of ascent must go through a great war, crushing the greatest external enemy and winning peace for the nation. Then the state produces fine generals in droves and capable ministers everywhere, and people believe the nation's fortune has arrived."

"But rising isn't truly rising, and decline isn't truly decline."

Ligdan Khan clearly understood that the role in the story Liu Chengzong told was the Great Ming, and the one crushed was the Northern Yuan. This gave him a little interest in what Liu the Lion would say next. He asked, "Rising isn't truly rising, decline isn't truly decline — what do you mean?"

"People in a rising era are tolerant and naive, knowing nothing of the cruelty of the lord of all creatures. They mistakenly believe Heaven's mandate rests with them, attributing everything to themselves, so much so that they forget the rising era was bought with their ancestors' brutal wars."

Liu Chengzong said, "Find a beggar and ask for a mouthful of food — he'll kill you for that mouthful. Yet a man laden with ten thousand strings of cash can feed his dogs without a second thought."

"The people of Han thought themselves stronger than Qin; the people of Tang thought themselves stronger than Han. Now in the Great Ming, they think they've far surpassed Han and Tang — unaware that this is merely the post-war recovery at a dynasty's founding. So long as there's no war, everything develops steadily; naturally all trades prosper and all goods grow cheap. This is simply a natural law, not some manifest destiny."

"What's more, a state in its rising era will make mistakes, and it will keep making mistakes, because people are tolerant. Often, people don't even realize a mistake has been made."

"Unfortunately, land is finite." Liu Chengzong's tone shifted. "When the land's carrying capacity reaches its limit and people keep making mistakes, the era of decline arrives. And at that point, you're no longer free to make mistakes — you can only start correcting them."

"Don't misunderstand — I'm talking about the Great Ming's Zhang Juzheng, not you of the Northern Yuan."

Liu Chengzong laughed once and continued, "Some mistakes were corrected, some couldn't be. Afterward, more mistakes kept being made, piling up, and corrections kept being made, growing more and more wrong — until today."

"The contradiction between land and people reached its limit. The contradiction between officials and commoners reached its limit. The contradiction between landlords and peasants reached its limit. The contradiction between generals and soldiers reached its limit. Injustice reached its limit. Boom!"

Ligdan Khan listened to Liu Chengzong's words. Though every word and sentence spoke of the Great Ming, in his heart every word and sentence spoke of the Northern Yuan.

Though he had never considered the problem from this angle, it sounded extraordinarily reasonable — except that in his heart, the Northern Yuan's greatest contradiction was the contradiction between the Great Khan and the taijis.

He too had wanted to correct mistakes, but the more he corrected, the more wrong things went. Whatever he wanted to do, events moved in the opposite direction, until today, when it was finally beyond saving.

Liu Chengzong paused here and said, "Your khan title is also Genghis Khan — what has it ever brought you but the desertion of all your followers? The Imperial Heirloom Seal is just a piece of stone... I've come to correct mistakes. What era is this, and Mongolia is still playing that Nine-Rank Zhongzheng system game."

Listening to Dai Daozi's translation, Ligdan Khan's expression grew complicated. Born to inherit the Great Khanate in Mongolia, his understanding and Liu Chengzong's were on two completely different levels; they simply could not communicate.

Hearing that Liu Chengzong meant to level the nobility — damn it, what do herdsmen understand? Never mind leading troops in battle or even knowing how to read; the vast majority don't even have a name. What meaning is there in leveling the nobility besides cutting off your own hands and feet?

Even if you appoint officials, you'd still have to pick them from the nobility.

There was no reasoning through this.

Ligdan Khan no longer cared about arguing with Liu the Lion. He simply said, "What you speak of is the situation in the Southern Court; things are different in the north... After I am gone, what will become of the Northern Yuan? What will become of Ejei?"

Having already retreated to Qinghai, what Northern Yuan was there left?

Liu the Lion preferred to address this matter within the scope of Mongolia. He answered, "If all goes smoothly, Mongolia will, like the Xiongnu, unite north and south, becoming a cultural symbol for our descendants — and nothing more."

Ligdan Khan slowly lowered his head, his spirits sinking. "How sad. It seems... you can't help me much, and I can't stop you. I have only one request."

"Speak."

"After I die, you must take in Ejei. He will call you father, and you must treat him as your own son. Under no circumstances can he fall into the hands of the Mobei, Moxi, or the Jin state. If you too cannot defeat the Jin Khan, then no one can."

Ligdan Khan paused. "I fear everyone wants to make him Great Khan. With you, at least he can have food and clothing and live in peace."

"I promise you."

Liu Chengzong nodded solemnly. "If you die, I will treat Ejei as Emperor Wu of Han treated the Xiutu prince Jin Midi."

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Good evening!