In the third month of the first year of Qinghe, Aletan, leader of the Oirat tribes, personally led one hundred and twenty thousand elite cavalry and destroyed the Tatar royal court.
The “Lioness Khatun” died in battle. The young khan Mudai vanished without a trace.
Aletan absorbed the various Tatar tribes and proclaimed the establishment of the Golden Court. Thus, for the first time in two hundred years, the conflict-ridden Northern Steppe achieved unification.
—
Within the imperial palace of Great Ming, the Grand Secretaries were discussing a frontier report in Wenyuan Pavilion.
The report had come from a military secretary stationed at Qingshui Camp in Lingzhou, Shaanxi. It stated that the Northern Steppe had dispatched an envoy to Qingshui Camp, demanding that a state letter from the “Heavenly Sacred Khan” be delivered to the Emperor of Great Ming. The military secretary had not dared make the decision himself, yet feared delaying an important matter. Therefore, he had sent the state letter and the frontier report together by express courier to the capital.
“‘Heavenly Sacred Khan’? This character Heaven…” Grand Chancellor Yang Ting frowned deeply. “Very inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” said Yu Chezhi, the newly promoted Shilang of the Ministry of War and Grand Secretary, a blunt and straightforward man. “It’s nothing less than an insult to our dynasty’s heavenly prestige.
“For generations, all the foreign tribes have respectfully referred to the Emperor of Great Ming as the ‘Heavenly Emperor.’ Yet now the Northern Steppe has suddenly produced a ‘Heavenly Sacred Khan.’ It’s obvious they intend to stand as equals with Great Ming. This Aletan has considerable ambitions.”
Vice Grand Chancellor Xie Shiyan stroked his long beard and added, “Aletan plans to hold a ceremony of sacrifice to Heaven in the sixth month and formally elevate his title from ‘Sacred Khan’ to ‘Heavenly Sacred Khan.’ He demands that our dynasty send officials to the Northern Steppe to witness the ceremony and offer congratulations. This is clearly an attempt to force us into acknowledging him as equal to the Emperor of Great Ming. It’s ridiculous.”
“And if you look carefully at the additional condition, it becomes even more absurd.”
Everyone examined the document closely.
The condition required that the official dispatched by Great Ming must:
- Have served at Qingshui Camp two years ago;
- Have been involved in horse-trading affairs;
- Be a young official around twenty years of age.
The requirements were strange. At first glance, they seemed broad. Yet the more one thought about them, the more targeted they appeared. And still, no actual name was mentioned. What else could it be but absurdity?
Should they send someone or not?
If they sent an envoy, would it not diminish the dignity of the court and damage the Son of Heaven’s prestige?
If they refused and instead rebuked Aletan for failing to observe the proper etiquette of a vassal state, they might provoke him.
In earlier years, Great Ming had repeatedly clashed with both the Tatars and Oirats along the frontier.
Later, the Northern Steppe became occupied with civil war, and border troubles eased considerably.
Then came the late emperor’s illness, political upheaval, and the Crown Prince’s difficult succession.
No one had time to concern themselves with Northern Steppe affairs.
Only after the new emperor’s accession this year, when the situation had finally stabilized somewhat, did they realize that the Oirats had steadily grown stronger and ultimately swallowed the Tatars.
Now Aletan had just unified the Northern Steppe and stood at the height of his power. Could this demand that Great Ming send an official to the ceremony merely be an excuse to provoke conflict?
The Grand Secretaries debated back and forth. Just then, a clear male voice sounded from outside the hall doors. “How lively… Ah-choo! What are all the honored lords discussing?”
The Grand Secretaries turned and saw their youngest colleague, Su Yan, courtesy name Qinghe. Wrapped in a dark blue cloak, he had just entered from the chilly spring corridor.
The moment he stepped into the warm hall, the sudden temperature change made him sneeze violently.
After exchanging greetings, Yang Ting handed him the frontier report and the state letter from the Northern Steppe. The more Su Yan read, the stranger the wording seemed. “A young official around twenty years old who served at Qingshui Camp two years ago and was involved in horse-trading affairs.”
If that description was not referring to him, then who else could it possibly mean? So Aletan still remembered him. But why not simply name him directly? Instead, it sounded as though all Aletan retained were these vague impressions.
“How does Lord Su view this matter?” asked Shilang of the Ministry of War Yu Chezhi.
Su Yan rather liked Yu Chezhi.
On one hand, in his previous life he had already known him to be a capable minister, a civil official who could command troops and was particularly skilled at suppressing internal rebellions. On the other hand, Su Yan felt a certain connection with him.
After arriving in this world, the very first memorial he had ever read had been written by this man.
Turning to Yu Chezhi with a friendly expression, Su Yan said, “I think Aletan’s purpose is to establish authority. He has just unified the Northern Steppe through war and founded a new royal court. He needs to demonstrate both his capability and the legitimacy of his regime to the world. To whom does he need to prove it?”
“One is Heaven itself. That is why he plans to hold a sacrificial ceremony. The other is Great Ming. If even the ‘Heavenly Emperor’ acknowledges his new title, then the foundations of the Golden Court will become much more secure.”
Yu Chezhi felt the reasoning was sound. “Then, Lord Su, how do you think we should reply to the state letter? Should we send someone to attend the ceremony?”
Su Yan smiled. “Grand Chancellor Yang and Vice Chancellor Xie are both here. Yet instead of asking them first, you come to ask me, a junior newcomer.”
Only then did Yu Chezhi realize he had been somewhat discourteous and hurriedly apologized to the two senior Gelaos.
Yang Ting waved his hand. “No matter, no matter. Whoever speaks first makes little difference.”
Xie Shiyan simply returned to his seat and drank tea without saying anything.
There was another Grand Secretary present, Jiang Chunnian. Formerly a Hanlin Academician, he possessed quick wit and broad knowledge, but suffered from a stammer. To compensate for his weakness, he rarely spoke and habitually communicated through pen and paper.
At this moment, he naturally had no intention of speaking first either.
As Su Yan saw that everyone was looking at him, he said, “Then I’ll be the one to throw out the first idea. My personal view is actually very simple, just two sentences.”
He paused, then declared in a loud, forceful voice:
“To h*ll with ‘Heaven’! Absolutely not!”
The Grand Secretaries, who had been waiting for a serious answer: …
Seeing their indescribable expressions, Su Yan could not help laughing and added: “The character Tian (‘Heaven’) absolutely cannot be granted. If we must show some recognition, then do as we did with his father, Tuohuoli, bestow an honorary title like ‘Pingning Wang’ or ‘Shunyi Wang.’ If he accepts it, we can send officials to confer the title before that so-called Heaven-worshipping ceremony. If he refuses, then forget it.”
Xie Shiyan said leisurely, “Su Shilang makes it sound easy. If Aletan becomes enraged because of this and once again raises troops to invade Great Ming’s borders…”
The smile faded from Su Yan’s face as he replied seriously, “If Aletan truly wants to attack Great Ming, it would be for profit, not to vent his anger. As for this matter of attending the ceremony, he can use it to probe our bottom line, and likewise, we can use it to gauge his intentions and capabilities.”
In the end, the cabinet ministers each had their own considerations. No consensus was reached, but that did not prevent them from drafting recommendations.
If the Grand Secretariat was unanimous, things were simple: they would draft the emperor’s reply in advance, attach it to the memorial, and submit it.
If opinions differed, each minister would write his own recommendation on a slip of paper and attach it to the memorial before submission.
After reviewing everything and making the final decision, the emperor would tear up the slips he did not choose, keep the one he favored, and then use vermilion ink to write the adopted opinion directly onto the memorial as the official response. This was known as a vermilion rescript.
Thus, a Grand Secretary’s actual standing was reflected not only in his rank, whether he served in the Hall, whether he was Grand Chancellor or Vice Chancellor, but also in how often his proposed recommendations were accepted.
Faced with the four slips submitted by the Grand Secretariat (two ministers shared the same opinion and therefore submitted a joint slip), Zhu Helin considered them for a moment, tore up the other three, and kept Su Yan’s.
Although this was simply procedure, some ministers whose recommendations were not adopted could not help feeling disappointed. No matter how magnanimous they appeared on the surface, that sour feeling in their hearts often took several days to fade.
As for Zhu Helin, he stared for a long time at that strange condition in Aletan’s diplomatic letter regarding the official who would attend the ceremony. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed tailored to a specific person.
So he ordered the Imperial Guard to investigate: Among those who had met those qualifications back then, who exactly were they?
—
From the perspective of the two young servants of the Su household, their master had become even busier after entering the Grand Secretariat. He often said he would not be coming home for dinner, and when discussions ran late, he would occasionally spend the night in his duty room at the Wenyuan Pavilion.
While they were delighted that their master had been promoted again, they could not help feeling a little lonely.
The household staff gradually increased in number, and Su Xiaojing no longer had much work to do. Naturally lively and active by temperament, and at the age of fifteen or sixteen when boys were most playful, he often slipped off to the markets, entertainment quarters, and theaters for fun.
As he spent more and more time away from home, Su Xiaobei inevitably scolded him. He thought Xiaojing was too frivolous and lacked the steadiness required of a household steward.
At first, Su Xiaojing listened with a grin, repeatedly saying, “Brother Bei, I know, I know, I was wrong.” But after hearing the same lectures over and over, he grew impatient. He deliberately avoided Su Xiaobei and dashed out whenever he found an opportunity.
After failing several times to stop him, Su Xiaobei became so angry that he chased him with a broom. That made Su Xiaojing angry as well. For several days he barely spoke to Su Xiaobei and hardly came home.
As these were merely servants’ trivial affairs, Su Xiaobei did not want to bother their master with them. He tried his best to discipline Xiaojing himself, hoping it was only a temporary rebellious phase that would pass.
Su Xiaojing, however, had no such concerns. Now that he had finally escaped Xiaobei’s constant nagging, he decided to find some people and play a few rounds of leaf cards to test his luck.
That day, his luck was unbelievably good. He won every game he played. His opponent lost so badly that he was forced to strip off his outer robe. Finally, in desperation, the man took out a treasured personal possession from inside his clothing as a wager.
It was an old longevity lock made of gold and set with gemstones.
Though it had clearly passed through many hands over the years, leaving it worn and old-looking, with several gemstones missing, a careful examination still revealed the magnificent patterns and exquisite craftsmanship it had once possessed.
The moment Su Xiaojing saw the lock, he froze.
It seemed familiar… No, not merely familiar. It felt as though it had originally belonged to him… He racked his brain, and finally, from the deepest recesses of his memory, unearthed the forgotten recollection.
Four or five years ago, before he had met Lord Su, he and his mother, who had signed herself into servitude, had drifted from one slave broker to another. When his mother fell gravely ill and was near death, he gritted his teeth and pawned the longevity lock he had worn around his neck since birth, using the money to hire a doctor and buy medicine.
He had never dared tell his mother. She had repeatedly warned him that the longevity lock must never be lost. There was also a swaddling cloth that had wrapped him as a baby, it too must never be stained, damaged, or thrown away.
His mother kept the swaddling cloth locked in a broken wooden chest, while he always carried the longevity lock on his person. But to save her life, he had no choice but to pawn it in secret.
In the end, however, the money had not been enough to save her. She died despite treatment. Heartbroken, Xiaojing later tried to redeem the lock as a keepsake, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not get it back. Eventually, he slowly forgot about it.
Years passed. He had almost completely forgotten the matter. Yet now that the lock had suddenly appeared before him, the dust covering those old memories was blown away in an instant.
Suppressing his excitement, Su Xiaojing put on a critical expression. “What grave did this thing get dug out of?” he muttered. “It’s so old. Who would want it?”
As he spoke, he turned the lock over and over in his hands.
Sure enough, on the inner side of the hollow lock body, he found a blurry, barely visible character: “Xin”
It was his lock.
After some bargaining, Su Xiaojing won the longevity lock back.
He immediately hurried home, locked himself inside his room, and retrieved from the depths of his wardrobe the swaddling cloth whose edges had been slightly scorched.
He spread it out on the bed. It was a large square piece of brocade.
The passage of many years had turned it a reddish-brown color, making the writing on its inner side blend almost completely into the fabric.
Originally, Su Xiaojing had been completely illiterate. After following Su Yan, however, he had begun studying and learning to read. By now he could recognize most common characters. But the tiny words written on the inside of the swaddling cloth were so blurred that he could not make them out.
He spent a long time trying to decipher them, only to fail again.
In the end, he gave up.
Forget it, he thought. At least the longevity lock has come back to me. As for this swaddling cloth covered in ghostly scribbles, it can stay buried at the bottom of the chest.
It wasn’t until seven or eight days later, when he was carrying two jars of freshly bought doubanjiang down a secluded alley and brushed past an old woman dressed like a servant from a wealthy household, that he suddenly heard her call out from behind–
“Wait! Young man, turn around, let me take a good look at you!”
Su Xiaojing turned around in confusion and stared at the old woman. “What is it?”
The old woman looked him over carefully from head to toe, her lips trembling as she said, “Like… too alike… exactly the same…”
“What’s your problem?” Su Xiaojing turned to leave, but she grabbed him.
The old woman asked excitedly, “Young man, do you have a gold longevity lock that you’ve worn since birth? One set with five-colored gemstones?”
Su Xiaojing nodded instinctively, then remembered not to flaunt wealth and hurriedly shook his head.
The old woman seemed to notice something and pressed on, “Don’t be afraid. I only ask because you look extremely like my former mistress, does your longevity lock have a character engraved inside?”
Former mistress? Does she mean my mother? Su Xiaojing had known from a young age that his origins were not ordinary. His mother had said it was because of a major case more than ten years ago that their family collapsed overnight. At that time he was still in her womb, not yet born, and had been sold off along with everything else. It was said that the case had been decreed personally by the late emperor, so he had always been uneasy about imperial power, often saying, “Being near the emperor is like being near a tiger.”
Su Xiaojing asked cautiously, “Is it the character ‘Xin’?”
The old woman burst into tears, dropped to her knees, hugged his legs, and cried out loudly, “It’s the young master! It really is the young master! Wangye’s only remaining heir has finally been found by this old servant!”
