BEGW C55

Chapter 55

With each passing day, the departure from the Zherou royal court drew nearer, yet the people of Qiaoluo still had not come to approach the Great Zhou envoys.

Unlike the unhurried Jiang Yuxun, Tang Yimeng was already growing anxious.

He sat facing Jiang Yuxun, and after hesitating for a long while, lowered his voice and began, “Lord Jiang, last time we…”

“Shh—”

Before Tang Yimeng could finish, he was gently cut off by Jiang Yuxun’s slight shake of the head.

He glanced back toward the door, then tapped lightly on the paper upon the table with a fingertip.

At last, Tang Yimeng came to and looked where Jiang Yuxun indicated.

“The Zherou soldiers outside the door can understand the Great Zhou’s official speech.”

Jiang Yuxun did not write out this line directly, but marked it using phonetic notation.

—By now, “phonetic notation” had already been promoted broadly in the Great Zhou.

For officials who understood the official speech and were literate, phonetics were not difficult; Tang Yimeng had securely mastered it months ago.

Grasping the meaning of the phrase, Tang Yimeng took up a brush, found a blank sheet, and wrote: “Lord Jiang, the Qiaoluo people still show no sign. If we don’t go to them to seek wheat seed, we’ll be leaving.”

Jiang Yuxun shook his head slightly and wrote:

“What Qiaoluo wants is the Great Zhou’s protection. Wait for them to offer allegiance of their own accord; do not go supplicating them. If we show too much urgency now, we will only make Qiaoluo hesitate or even shrink back.”

The Qiaoluo envoy was a subtle mind; Jiang Yuxun guessed… they were likely deliberately holding their hand to observe the Great Zhou’s reaction.

“Very well…” Tang Yimeng sighed lightly and nodded, then at last rose and withdrew from the curtained tent.

Spring in Zherou was extremely dry, the most fire-prone season; therefore no candles were lit within the tent.

After Tang Yimeng left, Jiang Yuxun “accidentally” spilled the water on the table over the raw paper.

Only after confirming the writing on the paper had completely blurred did he begin tidying up.

His expression was utterly calm, but the hand wiping the table trembled twice, ever so slightly.

…Time truly was running short.

Jiang Yuxun moved very slowly; only after a long time did he set down the silk handkerchief.

The table was already dry; he was just about to stand and stretch his limbs.

But as soon as he stood up, a familiar voice sounded from outside the tent: “Lord Jiang, Princess Lianyi requests your presence—”

Jiang Yuxun’s heart thudded twice, heavily.

Princess Lianyi seeking him at this time—could it be connected to the Qiaoluo envoy?

He couldn’t help biting his lip.

He had intended to go straight out, but hesitated; then suddenly turned back into the tent to change clothes.

The sun shone fiercely over the Zherou royal camp.

Sunlight poured from a cloudless sky, stabbing the eyes with pain.

Even through a thick layer of felt, the tent was bright enough to need no lamp.

“Lord Jiang has come,” Princess Lianyi’s voice carried from not far away; she smiled toward him, “The king went out this morning with a party to hunt deer. With nothing much to do either way, I thought I’d have Lord Jiang over for a little chat.”

As she brewed tea she said casually, “Sit.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The Zherou king had not been at court that morning?

…At this, Jiang Yuxun immediately guessed a few things.

He stepped forward and made a bow to Princess Lianyi, then sat on the other side of the carpet.

There was a faint jingle in his movements.

Princess Lianyi glanced up at him, a little puzzled.

He still wore that sapphire-blue official robe, but unlike before… today he was laden with ornaments of every sort, looking richly splendid.

“How is it that Lord Jiang is so…” dressed today?

Halfway through her words, guessing his intention, Princess Lianyi swallowed the rest.

Western-region peoples were not, like the Zhou, particular about “not flaunting wealth.”

On the contrary, they often wore all their property on their person, to display their strength.

—By that look, Jiang Yuxun was already fully prepared to meet with the Qiaoluo envoy.

She smiled, and personally handed one of the cups of tea to him: “There is a friend who would like to get acquainted with Lord Jiang—would my lord be interested?”

A white cloud drifted over the sun, and the tent suddenly dimmed.

The heart that had been hanging high in Jiang Yuxun’s chest at last settled.

Only the Qiaoluo envoy would seek him at such a moment.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Jiang Yuxun hurriedly took the hot tea and offered thanks. “Then may I trouble Your Highness to make the introduction.”

“A trifling effort.”

…

Though not the birth mother of the current Zherou king, Princess Lianyi had been there for twenty years and naturally had her own contacts and power.

Jiang Yuxun guessed the Zherou king had eight or nine parts been deliberately sent away by her.

As soon as she spoke, the Qiaoluo envoy came around from behind the tent.

Princess Lianyi exchanged a few words with him and then left the tent, leaving only her lady-in-waiting.

The envoy did not speak Zherou speech, but expressed his intent in his own tongue, with the lady-in-waiting translating.

No one knew when the clouds overhead had thinned away.

The tent grew bright again.

Jiang Yuxun took a sip of tea, and said with utmost directness: “So this time the Qiaoluo state seeks the protection of our Great Zhou?”

The sunlight lit his throat; polished white jade, crystal, agate, and turquoise gleamed brilliantly at the movement.

The lady translated his words.

The Qiaoluo envoy hesitated, then nodded strongly at last: “Yes, that is so.”

Then, uneasy, he looked toward Jiang Yuxun.

Jiang Yuxun smiled and, unhurried, shook his head: “The Great Zhou lies far from Qiaoluo. Why should Qiaoluo forsake what is near and seek what is far—why not keep close friendship with Zherou and instead seek protection from the Great Zhou?”

Sunlight fell over his long hair, sending up a soft radiance.

Though his features still held a trace of boyishness, his demeanor—after a year of storms—had become poised and mature.

The lady nodded to Jiang Yuxun and turned to translate his words to the Qiaoluo envoy.

The envoy froze, then began speaking rapidly.

A moment later, the lady turned back and said, “The Zherou have been training troops with the Great Zhou in mind for years; this envoy has been here for over a decade, and long ago saw that Zhou and Rou must fight.”

Sunlight fell directly upon Jiang Yuxun’s face; his ink-dark eyes hid wholly in the shadow of his lashes.

He nodded slightly, indicating the other should continue.

Having spent half her life in Zherou, the lady still spoke with a faint southern accent.

Listening and translating in the same breath, she said, “He says the Zherou could swallow Qiaoluo at any time; the only reason they have not is because their feet are caught by the matter of the Great Zhou.”

“Mm.”

“If Zherou wins, Qiaoluo will be the next to suffer. If Zherou loses, they will flee west in panic—Qiaoluo will still be the one to suffer,” the lady’s pace was steady, “and so the envoy wishes to obtain the Great Zhou’s protection in advance.”

—In this battle, they could only gamble on the Great Zhou.

Jiang Yuxun had come precisely for Qiaoluo’s wheat seed.

But at this point, he was not in the least anxious.

He did not answer the envoy’s words; instead, he casually asked the lady a few questions unrelated to the matter.

It looked as if he did not think much of the matter.

Yet his slow treatment made the envoy all the more certain that the Great Zhou’s strength was formidable.

At last, he could not hold back.

Rising, he bowed, and in heavily accented Great Zhou speech said, “Though Qiaoluo is militarily weak and cannot resist, it is rich and not lacking in wealth. If the Great Zhou is willing, we can deliver gold and silver into your emperor’s hand.”

Jiang Yuxun: ?!

He could speak the Great Zhou’s official speech?

…In diplomatic dealings, an envoy’s use of the other party’s language is a form of submission and supplication.

Qiaoluo’s posture was very low—and already impatient.

Calm, calm!

Show a little of a great power’s bearing.

Jiang Yuxun gave himself a hard pep talk. As he recalled Ying Changchuan’s usual manner, he set down his tea cup lightly and shook his head.

He advanced by retreat: “Our Great Zhou is not lacking in gold and silver, and His Majesty has no interest in such vulgar things.”

The glitter of the gold and jade on his person as he moved made this all the more convincing.

The Qiaoluo envoy nodded twice at once, heavily: “Yes, yes, my lord.”

Then he could not help using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow.

The Zherou forever kept a hard mouth, claiming Ying Changchuan had won by luck.

Under that influence, the envoy too had doubted the Great Zhou’s strength.

But seeing Jiang Yuxun’s aloof and indifferent manner now, he was finally completely reassured: the Great Zhou’s strength was absolutely greater than he had imagined!

If one were to cling to such a thigh, when else would it be?

The Qiaoluo envoy asked carefully, “May one ask what the Great Zhou would be interested in?”

“Well then…” Joy was already cartwheeling in Jiang Yuxun’s heart, but he held it in and said, as if without thinking, “Yesterday in a Zherou tent I saw some exotic flora from the Western Regions… such as spinach, wheat, and the like. Compared to gold and silver, that would be fresh, at least.”

The Qiaoluo envoy nodded at once, and looked at him with fervent eagerness: “Naturally, naturally!”

Seeing such ready assent, Jiang Yuxun suddenly furrowed his brow, as if at a loss: “Those things are far less precious than gold and silver…”

“Lord Jiang, be at ease—Qiaoluo will not be stingy in quantity,” as if afraid he would repent, the envoy immediately laid out his planned route, “the way east is blocked by Zherou, but we can detour by Kehan and deliver the goods to the Great Zhou from there!”

Good heavens?!

At this, even Jiang Yuxun was amazed.

To the northwest, the Great Zhou bordered Zherou, and to the southwest, lay the highlands of Kehan.

The Qiaoluo meant to take the long way around—carry the goods over the entire plateau and deliver them to Zhaodu!

His words left Jiang Yuxun dumbstruck.

Seeing he had not answered at once, the envoy thought he was still hesitating.

He promptly declared: “Words are wind. When His Highness the Prince came to Zherou as a hostage, he brought ten shi of wheat seed and vegetable seed. Zherou has no interest in these things; most remain. If my lord does not disdain them, you may take them first.”chinaknowledge+1

“If the Qiaoluo violate the pact, you need only hand these seeds to Zherou, and then we will be beyond any power to salvage!”

In the Zhou era, “one shi” was roughly equivalent to thirty jin today.

If used for eating the seeds would not go far; but as seed stock, it was quite a lot.convertunits+2

Jiang Yuxun’s breath hitched.

The envoy asked warily, “Lord Jiang, what say you?”

Seeing him thus, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.

…He truly had picked up bad habits from Ying Changchuan.

Fallen, truly fallen!

By now it was already midday.

Not wishing to make it harder for the envoy, Jiang Yuxun smiled and rose slowly: “It grows late; you should return and rest.”

The envoy widened his eyes and, extremely uneasy, nodded to him.

The two walked side by side to the tent flap; the lady lifted her hand to draw it aside.

As he was about to step out, Jiang Yuxun finally halted and said with a smile to the envoy, “Since Qiaoluo is so sincere, naturally our Great Zhou will not disappoint.”

The sky was cloudless today, and the entire royal camp lay under the blazing sun.

As he spoke, he narrowed his eyes and glanced up toward the sky: “Time is short; please hasten to prepare the wheat seed. Do not alarm the Zherou and do not delay our journey.”

The spring wind lifted the green hem of his robe, making Jiang Yuxun’s bearing all the more upright.

In an instant the envoy almost felt an illusion—the gleam upon the man before him seemed, for a moment, to outshine even the sweltering day.

“Yes, my lord—”

The Qiaoluo envoy stepped back at once, and with the utmost respect bowed to Jiang Yuxun.

No longer did he place a hand over his heart as before, but, like a Zhou man, lifted a hand to his brow—already bearing a hint of submission.

※

In the afternoon, the Zherou king—who had gone to hunt on the Iyan grasslands—finally returned to court.

Perhaps having learned that his own subordinate had disgraced himself before the Zhou, he could not help calling Jiang Yuxun’s party outside the court, seemingly wishing to regain face with a “horse race.”

The Zherou king—a half-grown youth—rode at the head of the group.

The envoys and accompanying Great Zhou soldiers followed behind them, making for the sands west of court.

It was a vast line of men, impressive to behold.

It was around the third or fourth hour in the afternoon—the hottest time of day.

The blazing sun poured down, scorching the scalp with prickling pain.

“Lord Jiang, water?” A soldier held out a flask.

Jiang Yuxun offered quiet thanks and drained the water in the flask in one go.

The parched feeling in his throat at last eased.

Seeing the Zherou people still making for the sands, Tang Yimeng—keeping pace beside him—could not help frowning and glancing at him.

—What in the world did this group intend?

No one knew when the Zherou royal court had vanished beyond the horizon.

Worried that further progress might bring mishap, Jiang Yuxun could not help going forward and asking: “Where exactly does the Zherou king mean to take us?”

The interpreter had barely rendered the line when the Zherou king in front tugged tight on his reins.

At the sight, a Zherou official fluent in Great Zhou speech at once said, “Everyone, halt!”

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned and smiled toward Jiang Yuxun: “Lord Jiang, do you see that lake ahead? Let your soldiers race horses with our Zherou warriors; whoever first reaches the lakeside, takes the token there, and returns, wins.”

As he spoke, he pointed forward with his whip.

Ahead, the Zherou king also smiled back.

A sacred lake?

…Why had he never heard a related tale?

Jiang Yuxun and the other Zhou men looked where he pointed.

They stood in the very midst of gobi and sand, and beyond yellow sand there were nothing but jagged stones.

Every grass and twig spelled the words “arid land.”

Only on the horizon did a lake glimmer like ripples beneath the noonday sun.

At the sight of the lake, the accompanying soldiers of the Great Zhou immediately tightened girths and sat tall—eager to try themselves against the Zherou.

Several of the envoys skilled in horsemanship were likewise itching to go.

The Zherou official dropped his whip, tipped his head back, and took a disdainful gulp of water: “You can still admit defeat now.”

“Why should we admit defeat?” Tang Yimeng said. “My lord is too confident by half.”

The soldiers grew excited:

“That’s right! Let’s do it—”

“When do we start?”

Lowering the flask, the Zherou official cleared the way ahead: “Oh? If you’re not afraid, then why not right now—”

“Wait!” Before he could finish, he was cut off by Jiang Yuxun.

Mounted upon a white horse, Jiang Yuxun lifted his eyes to the front.

After a few beats, he frowned—and smiled: “A lake? Might one ask my lord what that ‘lake’ is called, how large it is, and how far it lies from us?”

Suddenly, all fell quiet.

The Zherou official hesitated: “Uh… it’s called, called…”

Jiang Yuxun tugged at his reins and fixed him with a cold smile: “You don’t know either, do you?”

As he spoke, an eagle cried and passed over their heads.

His voice was not loud, but it pressed on the ear.

Seeing the Zherou official truly could not reply, the Zhou envoys and soldiers began whispering:

“What’s going on…”

“How can the Zherou not know the name of their sacred lake?”

Jiang Yuxun glanced back at the interpreter, then lowered his voice: “Forgive my candor, but ahead there is no lake at all. The ‘water’ in the distance is a mirage!”wikipedia+4

His words were rendered into Zherou in the same instant and cried out in a loud voice.

Two voices, along with the eagle’s call above, echoed again and again over the sand.

Everyone present stood frozen where they were.

Though he was smiling, Jiang Yuxun’s heart burned with anger.

“The natural phenomenon ‘mirage’ is divided into ‘superior mirage,’ ‘inferior mirage,’ and ‘complex mirage’ in three types.”cloudatlas.wmo+4

The “lake” before them was one of the most common—an inferior mirage.

On clear days, it could be seen almost anywhere upon desert or asphalt.

…The Zherou absolutely knew that the lake in the distance could never be reached.

They had done this deliberately to entrap soldiers out of Zhaodu—who had never seen a mirage—let them chase the phantom and die in the wastes!

Then they could even bite back, saying Great Zhou soldiers were dull-witted—not even able to find a lake.

“Wh-what ‘mirage’? Lord Jiang must be joking!” The Zherou were still keeping up a hard mouth.

Jiang Yuxun paid no heed to the official, but rode straight toward the Zherou king.

As he went, he said, “The histories long ago recorded ‘By the sea, mirage-vapors resembling towers; over the wide plain, vapors forming palaces’—what, did the Zherou truly think only you had seen mirages?”*

There was anger under his words, and as he spoke faster and faster, his presence pressed upon every heart.

Though it was high noon, a chill rose in the hearts of all.

After understanding the Zherou’s intent, the faces of Tang Yimeng and the others instantly went bloodless.

Though they had read the histories and recalled that description,

Having never seen a mirage with their own eyes, they had not realized that the “lake” in the distance was the “shen” in their books!

The Zhou interpreter’s voice trembled as he translated the words.

The Zherou ranks fell silent at once.

Jiang Yuxun reined in slowly before the Zherou king.

Looking him in the eye, he said, almost word by word, “If the Zherou insist that what lies ahead is your sacred lake, then why not have the king personally lead us to pay it a visit?”

Beneath the Zherou king, the black-maned charger suddenly, at that moment, snorted in agitation.

Its muscles twitched, and it jerked back a great step, stamping on the spot.

Realizing he had been put in the wrong, the Zherou king opened his mouth at once: “You—”

But Jiang Yuxun did not give him the time to speak: “Two states at war do not execute envoys. We have traveled a thousand li to come to Zherou—this ‘sacred lake’ is your demonstration of sincerity to our Great Zhou? Do the Three Kings of Zherou know of this act?”*

Through the interpreter, his words fell clear into every ear.

The Zherou king had only a few thousand personal guards.

Those whose word truly counted were the “Three Kings,” far in the depths of the steppe.

For now the Three Kings did not yet dare declare war upon the Great Zhou, yet he could not help making such a move.

If this reached the ears of the Three Kings, the royal court might have a new master.

A moment ago arrogant beyond measure, the Zherou king stood rooted in place.

The nobles who had come with him now clamped their mouths shut, not daring to make a sound.

“Go!”

Jiang Yuxun turned his horse at once and led all the Zhou envoys away in the opposite direction, leaving the Zherou behind without a backward glance.

“Yes, Lord Jiang—”

In an instant the thunder of hooves resounded over the desert.

Yellow sand billowed high and swept toward the Zherou.

Sunlight fell from the sky, stabbing the skin like knives.

Not until Jiang Yuxun’s party had gone did the Zherou scramble to tighten their reins and ride forward.

After the matter of the “sacred lake,” the Zherou finally settled down.

Jiang Yuxun too stayed within the tents and went out no more.

It was on the very day he received Princess Lianyi’s message that the wheat seed was prepared that the time set for departure also arrived.

Just then yellow sand rose again; in an instant sand and gravel flew, and day turned to night.

The envoys’ schedule could not be delayed by this.

Before dawn, Jiang Yuxun’s party left the court and headed south.

At first they could just barely make out the road underfoot; but when they reached the narrow stretch of sand between the Great Zhou and Zherou, an accident occurred.

“Cough, cough… Lord Jiang, it seems there’s a tornado ahead,” a soldier said between coughs, “and the wheel ruts on the ground have been buried by the sand!”

Jiang Yuxun’s heart leapt at once.

He braced against the gale and stepped down from the carriage: “Tell everyone not to advance. Gather all the carts and horses together.”

“Yes!”

As he spoke, Tang Yimeng also climbed down from the carriage: “Lord Jiang, please get back inside and wait!”

Jiang Yuxun shook his head and asked him, “Will anyone be coming to meet us today?”

Tang Yimeng’s face looked strained; shouting over the wind, he said, “Cough, cough… We’ve not encountered this before in years past.”

“Alright, I understand.” Jiang Yuxun’s mood grew heavier still.

In such weather, they could not go on.

If this were the old days, Princess Lianyi would certainly have kept them a few more days, and sent them off once the sand had stopped.

But this year, there had been some… accidents.

For fear the Zherou would again make trouble—and that the wheat seed would be discovered—they had to leave court as soon as possible.

Seeing Jiang Yuxun step down, several envoys gathered as well.

The weather was too abnormal today.

Their spirits were edgy and downcast as a result: “The ruts are gone—and who knows how many more days this sand will blow. If no one comes to meet us, what are we to do?”

“In my opinion it’s going to blow harder—let’s go first, whatever the direction, do not stop here and end up trapped in the sand completely!”

“That’s right, Lord Jiang—no matter what direction, let’s move forward first.”

Suddenly, Jiang Yuxun shook his head and turned to address them: “We will not.”

Tang Yimeng blinked: “Will not what?”

Clenching his palm, Jiang Yuxun said, “His Majesty will not abandon us.”

“Lord Jiang, we know His Majesty would not do that,” one envoy could not help saying, “but what if he thinks we’re still at court and have not left?”

“There is no ‘what if.’” Jiang Yuxun ground his teeth. “An envoy is as His Majesty’s own guards—when has His Majesty abandoned his personal troops in time of war?”

Having read the histories, he could at least hold such trust in Ying Changchuan.

“But—”

The wind and sand suddenly increased; Jiang Yuxun, relying on his memory, sought out the south.

Coughing as he spoke, he called loudly to everyone: “Everyone hold position! Get in the carriages—no running about! Wait for rescue!”

At last, the men around exchanged reluctant looks: “Yes…”

Then, struggling, they braced against the sand and made for the carriages.

A raging wind howled in his ears; the whole world was a dim yellow.

“Cough, cough, cough…” Alone upon the sand, Jiang Yuxun gradually closed his eyes.

—Ying Changchuan, do not let this wager fail.

Author’s Note:

• From literature and historical sources.

Footnotes:

1. Shi and jin: In many classical contexts 1 shi was a volume unit linked to grain; author’s approximation equates 1 shi to roughly 30 jin for narrative clarity. Historic jin varied by era, but modern shijin is standardized at 500 g per jin.

2. “Two states at war do not kill envoys”: A widely attested diplomatic norm across Eurasian polities; violations were rare but notorious, often provoking severe retaliation in historical practice.