Chapter 435: The Mutual Trade Colonel

On a low hill blanketed in withered grass, the envoy party from Khalkha spurred their horses, shooting and hunting forest rats. Only when they tired of the sport did the column slow its pace.

Babu put his bow back into his horse's rump pouch and rode shoulder to shoulder with Subadi. "Uncle, what about Khalkha? I think the Khitan Khan's words make sense."

Subadi paused, glanced at the young Babu, and dismounted. He tossed the reins to an attendant, tucked his riding crop into the back of his belt, and paced a few steps away. Shaking his head, he said, "Taiji, a man cannot listen only to pleasing words. Go home and counsel your father the Khan. We cannot contend with them."

Babu made no reply. He led his horse and followed behind Subadi, his beardless face a knot of complicated emotions.

As for whether Liu Chengzong's words truly held reason — Babu was too young to fully grasp them. But the heroic spirit of this Khitan Khan stirred in him a boundless admiration.

It was the spirit of a man who looked down on the entire world, who regarded only the rulers of the two states, East and West, as worthy figures.

Anyone could utter such words, but their weight varied with the speaker. Coming from a Khitan Khan who had annihilated the heavy troop formations of the Great Ming and the Oirats in succession, and who had marched two thousand li on expedition to blockade Ü-Tsang — no one doubted the gold content of that statement.

But Subadi wanted him to persuade his own father, and Babu dared not.

His father, Shuolei — one could not say he was without equal past or future, but in the era he lived in, he was the most skilled reincarnation-player in all Mongolia. Looking back, only the sons of Dayan Khan could compare.

Shuolei emerged from his mother's womb as one of the most important great nobles of Mobei, and after the death of Babu's grandfather, Moulo Beima, he became the most powerful man in the entire Mongol heartland.

He should have ranked second, but by the time Moulo Beima died, Ligdan Khan was already driving his little cart at breakneck speed down the road of mass betrayal and isolation.

Shuolei was a true pride of heaven. In concrete terms, this meant that even when Shuolei was merely the Sechen Hong Taiji, he already looked down on all Mongol nobles, Ligdan Khan included.

And in fact, no Mongol noble could indeed match him in power and influence.

Mongols are not like Han people. Especially in a place like Mobei, where information travels slowly and within a narrow scope, looking down on all Mongol nobles was practically equivalent to "above and below, I alone am supreme."

On one hand, Babu knew he could not persuade his father. On the other, he understood his father's thinking all too well.

Before setting out, Shuolei had clearly explained his intent to Babu: the Sechen tribe had not come as a Khalkha dependency trailing behind Subadi. They came representing the Sechen tribe, purely to extend goodwill to Liu Chengzong.

No matter what Subadi and Liu Chengzong discussed, no matter what agreement they reached, the Sechen tribe would take no part.

In facing the two states, East and West, even though the left and right wings of Khalkha shared the same sentiment, reason still constrained them to make diametrically opposite decisions.

Even if Subadi was loath to acknowledge the Khitan Khan's succession to the Mongol great inheritance, he had no choice but to join Dunta Ulus. Meanwhile, Shuolei of the Sechen tribe, however full of suspicion and alarm toward the Jin state, could only choose peaceful coexistence with it.

Because the westernmost edge of the Khalkha Right Wing bordered the Oirats, vassals of China; while the Sechen tribe's grazing lands lay in the east, in the Kherlen River basin, with its easternmost point at Lake Hulun. Cross the Greater Khingan Range, and you reached the Khorchin, allies of the Jin state.

In other words, for the entire Khalkha tribe, submitting to the Khitan Khan meant the Left Wing — especially the Sechen tribe — would become the front line. Submitting to the Tiancong Khan meant Subadi's Right Wing followers would become cannon fodder.

"I too wish the Sechen Khan could put up a fight against them, but I do not possess the Sechen Khan's vast power."

The "them" in Subadi's mouth referred not only to Liu Chengzong, but equally to Hong Taiji. He shook his head ruefully. "My followers were shaken by the Jin state's expulsion of the Khan's court and its annexation of the Tümed. The nobles all wish to submit to the Khitan Khan. I, as league leader, have no power to sway them left or right."

Herein lay the awkwardness of Mongol khans. The power of those strong nobles to rule their followers came not from the khan, but from bloodline. Especially in an age when great khans were everywhere, the support the tribes gave to their own khans was limited to honoring a familiar khan — it was to their advantage.

Just as Ligdan Khan attempted to suppress his own nobles by force — this was not because Ligdan Khan was weak, but precisely because he had inherited the Khan's court and stood in a position of strength. Exactly like Shuolei now.

If Ligdan Khan had been like Subadi, able to field only a little over six thousand riders from his own tribe while his right-wing vassals could provide over sixty thousand troops, he would not have been so violent and fierce.

Because if their positions were swapped, and Subadi made the same choice as Ligdan Khan, the resulting fight would not be called suppression at all — it would be called a desperate counterattack, and one that might well fail.

A khan could only learn to compromise. Within compromise, the interests of the entire tribe converged and formed a united force.

"But the Khitan Khan is right. The Jurchens of the Jin state can share hardship with us, but they will not share joy and profit with us." Taiji Babu's tightly knitted brows slowly relaxed. "Why don't we join them?"

"The grand, heroic words of Han people — listen to them, but do not take them to heart."

Subadi's tone was complicated. His gaze crossed the low hills to the outline of another army arriving from the sea at the headwaters of the Huang River. He shook his head. "By the time the Khitan Khan finishes his wedding, it will probably be next year. We will return when spring begins. You may relay these words exactly as they are to your father the Khan. Do not tell him what you yourself think."

Too naive.

In Subadi's view, they could only share hardship and die together with the Han people. There was simply no chance of sharing joy and profit.

This did not mean he thought Liu Chengzong was a liar. He did not.

But when the Han people were strong, they burned the grasslands year after year and rode beyond the northern frontier, scorching the lands south of the Gobi until the very clouds were black, sending waves of Mongols fleeing to Mobei. Three or five hundred men would charge into Nurgan and raid the Jurchen nests... Was there any chance of sharing joy and profit back then?

Now the time has come to share hardship and die together, and the Han people have finally noticed the Mongols.

"You want to share joy and profit with the Han people. The Khitan Khan made his words very clear: you must help him achieve his great enterprise." Subadi nodded with a solemn expression, yet the mockery in his heart was laid utterly bare. "We met a Han Khitan Khan in Qinghai, and he says he can achieve a great enterprise."

To be honest, Subadi felt the Khitan Khan might not necessarily achieve his great enterprise. And even if he did, they might not live to see it. Nothing was certain.

Therefore, setting aside the grand promises he painted, Liu Chengzong's image in Subadi's eyes became more three-dimensional. He was not merely a young Marshal of the Plague Department who held military might in his hands; he was also one who applied veiled threats and subtle enticements to him, the Khan of the Khalkha Right Wing, with casual ease.

Even more... there was the sinister cunning of planting a mine under the Left Wing.

Because who would achieve the great enterprise in the future, Subadi could not say. What he could say with certainty was only the present situation. And the present situation was exactly as Liu Chengzong had said: the Khalkha, in their loose confederation, had indeed reached the point where they must choose a side.

The Jin state had resolved the Great Ming's heavy troop formations in Liaodong; China had likewise resolved the Great Ming's heavy troop formations in Hehuang.

The Jin army had the ability to raid two thousand li and win victory at Guihua City, seizing the Mongol ruling center. China's army likewise had the ability to march two thousand li south to capture Kangning and blockade Ü-Tsang in the high mountains and snowy peaks.

These two rising armed blocs, one east and one west, both possessed the experience of crossing borders on two-thousand-li raids. This was an utterly terrifying war capability, and Khalkha stood shivering within the range of their raids.

The best-case scenario in the coming years was an East-West standoff, with Gumbu standing in the middle, and Subadi and Shuolei serving as buffer zones — maintaining relations with both sides while avoiding direct conflict.

The moment direct conflict erupted, Khalkha would instantly split apart.

These judgments, Subadi would not tell Babu. Even if Babu thought the Khitan Khan's words held reason, Shuolei's position dictated that he would not go to war with the Jin state before the Khitan Khan's army advanced to the Khalkha Right Wing's front line.

A Khitan Khan who could only offer vocal support from five thousand li away — no matter how brilliant and martial — meant less to Shuolei than a fool who could lead two thousand soldiers to his aid at any moment.

If Liu Chengzong's Han-Mongol Declaration stirred the heart of Taiji Babu, who could not submit to the Khitan Khan, then for Subadi, that same declaration was filled with the venom of exploiting the Khalkha Left Wing.

Standing at the bone-chilling headwaters of the Huang River, a land utterly foreign, Subadi felt as though he had become a shaman draped in bronze mirrors and streamers, gripping a scorching sheep's shoulder blade in his hand, tracing the mountains and reading the cracks in the bone, listening to the teachings of Tengri.

Even without the sacred robe and the sheep's shoulder blade, Subadi could see the future with perfect clarity.

Liu Chengzong's beguiling words were like a thorn driven into Babu's heart. This thorn would return with Babu to Mobei, planting itself deep in the heart of every Left Wing noble, becoming the greatest obstacle to their submission to the Jin state.

In the not-so-distant future, even if the Left Wing did not submit to the Jin state, they would — just as Liu Chengzong's prophecy foretold — suffer a crushing defeat and be forced to accept a humiliating status.

And after submitting to the Jin state, that thorn would ache dully with every conscription, every command, every act of co-option the Jin state imposed on the Khalkha Left Wing. It would keep aching until the Khalkha nobles were riddled with wounds, accumulating ever more resentment and fear, until finally, at the right moment, it all erupted.

As for the millions upon millions of Han people Liu Chengzong spoke of — whether they truly stood behind him was unimportant.

Whether Liu Chengzong and Hong Taiji, after achieving their great enterprises, could share joy and profit together was also unimportant to the Khalkha Left Wing nobles, because their generation was fated never to see it.

What they could truly, tangibly see was only this: whoever ruled Mongolia would share life and death with the Mongols.

And with this venomous prophecy of sowing discord in place, all the shared life and death of the Khalkha nobles destined to stand with the Jin state became a death grip held by another.

That was why Subadi told Babu to counsel Shuolei. They could not contend with Liu Chengzong in war, and, he feared, they were no match for him in the game of wits either.

But this was all he would tell Babu.

Although Liu Chengzong's purpose in saying these words was, to a large extent, to plant a mine for the Chechen tribe and even the entire Left Wing, in fact it made the Right Wing safer.

Uncle and nephew, each harboring their own thoughts, fell silent. On this land thousands of li from home, both felt lost about the future of the Khalkha Three Tribes.

Just then, several Dzungar cavalrymen galloped up from nearby. In Mongolian speech that was not easy to understand, they called out to them: "The Great Khan bids you return — the envoy of the Central Plain's Great Emperor has arrived!"

Subadi and Babu exchanged a glance, wondering whether Donduk Ülüs intended to go to war with the Great Ming and had pulled the two of them out to intimidate the imperial envoy.

When they returned to the Marshal's Manor yamen, the tense, drawn-swords atmosphere they had imagined did not materialize.

Before the lantern-bedecked yamen were tethered several fine riding horses with glossy coats, all hung with bridle bells and red tassels.

In the front courtyard, Brocade Guard commanders in flying-fish and bullfight robes walked shoulder to shoulder with the marshal's military officers, chatting and laughing. Beneath the east tower, the marshal's guards, stripped to the waist, were wrestling with Brocade Guard agents in the yard, their bodies steaming with heat.

Uproar spilled from the side rooms — the voices of Brocade Guard agents and guardsmen drinking and making merry nearly lifted the roof. A eunuch draped in a crimson sable-fur cloak stood beneath the eaves, jade ring on his finger, applauding the wrestling warriors.

And in the main hall with its doors thrown wide open, the Khitan Khan Liu Chengzong sat in the host's seat with an expansive, commanding air, head lowered as he toyed with two red-jade pipes, slowly tamping down the tobacco. Beside him stood a richly dressed middle-aged eunuch, bending low and murmuring something.

Seated on either side were several of the marshal's generals — some Subadi had seen before, some he had not.

At the sound of an announcement, Subadi saw Liu Chengzong raise his head.

He rose first, took two steps forward, and handed a pipe to a Han general seated nearby, saying: "Elder Brother, you've had a long journey. Lanzhou tobacco."

Then he introduced to Subadi: "This is my elder brother Cao Yao, Regional Commander of Kangning Prefecture. Those two are also my battle commanders, Luo Rucai and Li Laochai. That one is Baigan Taiji, now stationed in Ü-Tsang."

After he finished, Subadi, somewhat awkwardly, cupped his fists in salute to each in turn. Only then did he see Liu Chengzong hand the other pipe to the eunuch beside him, saying: "This is Eunuch Cao, come from Beijing."

Liu Chengzong urged Cao Huachun: "Eunuch Cao, you are a guest — do sit. This is not your first time meeting me; don't stand on ceremony."

Cao Huachun thought to himself: Is this about standing on ceremony or not? You haven't even left me a seat!

Normally, beside the host's seat there ought to be a guest seat, but the Marshal's Manor main hall was a yamen — and a county-level yamen at that — which had no such arrangement. What was he supposed to do, sit on the table?

As for the seats below, never mind the left side — Cao Yao and the other battle commanders back from Kangning Prefecture had already filled them. And even if one were empty, Cao Huachun was not particularly inclined to go over there.

What Cao Huachun most fancied was the seat of honor on the right, but Baigan Taiji had taken it. And now, here came another simpleton from Mobei. The seat left for him was extremely awkward.

Either he'd be sandwiched between two Tartars, or seated behind three Tartars.

But this was nothing. Cao Huachun had not met Liu Chengzong for the first time, and he had long anticipated the moral character of this domineering general. Though inwardly he was cursing a blue streak, outwardly his face remained wreathed in smiles. He cupped his hands and said: "The Marshal is too kind. I am merely a man who serves others, used to standing. Standing is fine."

Liu Chengzong paused, studying Cao Huachun carefully. He had to admit, the man was remarkable — standing there slightly right of center, he did not seem out of place at all, blending seamlessly into the yamen.

He thought: If you're happy standing, then stand. It makes no difference. He picked up a lacquered box from the table, tapped it lightly twice with his hand, and looked at Subadi. "Elder Brother, you are the Khalkha league master, yet you have come from afar. I know you wish to foster friendship. However, drawing a boundary with the Oirat is truly a momentous matter. Therefore I must still ask you: are you willing to submit to me and swear an oath never to betray?"

Subadi did not know why Liu Chengzong brought this up at this moment, but since it had been raised, he asked: "If I submit to the Great Khan, can a boundary be drawn with the Oirat?"

As Liu Chengzong nodded, Subadi immediately declared in the hall that he was willing to submit. But when he raised his head again, he actually found that Liu Chengzong's expression, as he came over to help him up, was a little strange — an odd look of delight tinged with disappointment.

Right after that, Liu Chengzong turned hopefully to Babu. Babu, naturally, could not agree on his father's behalf. To his utter surprise, this made Liu Chengzong exceptionally excited.

Smiling broadly, Liu Chengzong waved his hand. "No matter. Since you have come, and as you are of the nephew generation, I shall confer upon you the rank of Colonel of Pacifying Distant Lands. The Emperor wishes to open a border market with me at Shahukou in Datong — four hundred ninety thousand taels per year, of which three hundred forty thousand is for horse purchases. You are my colonel, so I, your uncle, entrust this matter to you."

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Good evening!