On the day of delivery, it was snowing. Ding Wu led A’duo Si to a valley where the Central Plains traders touched the fox fur hats on their heads. “Your pelts are the finest quality—wearing them on the head in this cold weather still makes you sweat. Let’s trade again next year. Unfortunately, the goods came out too late this year. By the time they’re transported to prosperous places like the capital for resale, people have already made their winter clothes, so fewer buyers.”
Hmph, these cunning Central Plains people just wanted to take advantage and lower prices.
When A’duo Si had already lost hope, the Central Plains merchant whistled, and grain transport convoys emerged from hiding—stretching as far as the eye could see!
A’duo Si’s men randomly inspected goods in the convoy. Inside were all kinds of grains—average quality, but no moldy chaff mixed in to make up numbers. Everything was edible.
This exceeded A’duo Si’s expectations. The tribe was saved this year. Eating frugally, they could even spare some provisions to feed livestock.
A’duo Si ordered his men to move grain from the carts. The Central Plains merchant rattled his abacus: “…I do business based on integrity, making long-term deals—otherwise Master Ding wouldn’t have chosen me. These are this autumn’s grain prices. If you sell pelts to us earlier next year, preferably delivering in early autumn when grain has just been harvested, prices will be cheaper than now. With the same pelts, you could get at least a quarter more grain. Let’s all make money together.”
A’duo Si remained wary of the Central Plains merchant, not thinking long-term, only wanting a one-night business deal. “You Central Plains people sell grain to us for money—aren’t you afraid of being charged with collaborating with the enemy?”
The Central Plains merchant was actually Mu Baihu in disguise. He took out an ingot of snowflake silver and bit it gently. “So fragrant! Is Daming silver really fragrant while Mongol silver stinks? To me, it’s all damn fragrant! Silver is my father, gold is my mother. For profit, forget buying you grain—I’d even buy you dragon robes.”
“We haven’t always been enemies.” Ding Wu pointed at the empty land ahead. “About two hundred years ago, this was a trading post where Daming and Mongol merchants conducted legitimate business, exchanging what each needed, everyone profiting. Later, frequent wars caused the trading post to decline, and now it’s become wasteland. If it were before, middlemen like me wouldn’t exist—you wouldn’t need to do business secretly.”
A’duo Si said: “An Da Khan repeatedly requested reopening cattle and horse markets, but your emperor refused. In the Gengxu year, An Da Khan fought all the way to the capital, forcing the old emperor to agree to open trading posts. The old emperor agreed and withdrew troops, but immediately after returning, the old emperor reneged and refused to open them. Going back on promises—your court destroyed the trading posts. We all hope for trading posts. The responsibility for continuous warfare lies with your incompetent court.”
Mu Baihu was ultimately a Daming soldier and couldn’t help saying: “Two hundred years ago, you captured our emperor alive at Tumu Fort—a supreme humiliation. From that time, trading posts disappeared. In the Gengxu year, An Da Khan looted around the capital for a month, practically holding a knife to our old emperor’s throat, forcing him to reopen trading posts.”
“We have a saying: ‘forced melons aren’t sweet.’ The old emperor was very face-conscious. Under siege pressure he agreed, but once you withdrew, he’d certainly renege on reopening trading posts. If truly opened, trading posts would constantly remind him of this humiliation—where would the old emperor’s face be?”
“Moreover, opening trading posts is very important for you—you can exchange for grain, salt, iron, and other things you lack. But for Daming’s tax revenue, it’s less than a small southern city. Opening borders requires strengthening frontier defense too—this deal isn’t profitable. Forget the old emperor—even I wouldn’t open trading posts. No profit.”
A’duo Si stood with the Mongol tribes and was naturally indignant. “You call it the Tumu Fort Incident—we call it the Great Victory of Tumu Fort. That battle two hundred years ago was started by your court first. Your young emperor was bewitched by a eunuch named Wang Zhen, young and hot-blooded, thinking himself remarkable, insisting on personally campaigning against us. You came killing at our doorstep—could we not resist? We defeated you and captured the young emperor alive.”
“You Central Plains people are all cunning with silver tongues. Even as a prisoner, the young emperor wouldn’t stay quiet, using smooth talk to persuade our Young Prince to release him. He returned to reclaim the throne and never mentioned opening trading posts, turning to send troops against us again. We’ve fought back and forth like this for over two hundred years—we didn’t start the wars. If we could eat well, dress warmly, and survive, who would want to fight?”
Mu Baihu disagreed: “Just because you can’t eat or dress warmly doesn’t mean you should rob us. Do we deserve to be robbed?”
A’duo Si said: “Your Daming also burns our grasslands, cuts our water sources, and drives away our herders whenever you get a chance—called ‘burning wasteland.’ We’ve died many people too.”
Mu Baihu said: “You rob us, so we can’t fight you?”
A’duo Si said: “Your court gives us no way to live. The court is far away—if we can’t reach the court, we can only fight you.”
Seeing the two about to argue, Ding Wu mediated: “Everyone’s doing business—harmony brings wealth. Don’t discuss state affairs. Continue cooperating next year. Goods are almost unloaded—leave quickly.”
A’duo Si mounted his horse and said to Ding Wu: “Come back to the tribe with me. You’re our tribe’s great savior—this time we’ll feast you with the fattest sheep.”
Ding Wu said: “You go back first. I still need to settle the other half of payment with the Daming border troops. To let such a huge grain convoy through, we must feed them well first.”
“I’ll invite you as a guest another day.” A’duo Si led the grain convoy disappearing into wind and snow.
After A’duo Si left, Ding Wu told Mu Baihu: “You acted well at first, but nearly exposed yourself later. You’re a merchant only concerned with profit—why care about state affairs?”
Mu Baihu scratched his head. “I just couldn’t help it… How have you managed to stay calm all these years?”
Ding Wu said: “This mask on my face hasn’t been removed for seven years—I fear it’s already attached to my soul.”
Mu Baihu asked: “Having lived on both sides, do you think A’duo Si or I was more reasonable?”
Ding Wu thought and said: “If someone can beat you, why reason with you? Fists are reason. Grassland life is brutal—survival of the fittest. When a tribe weakens, it gets swallowed by the strong, tribespeople become slaves—this is natural law. Almost everyone here accepts this thinking. Among tribal leaders, A’duo Si has a relatively gentle temperament. That he spoke nicely with you instead of fighting immediately was quite good.”
Mu Baihu showed disdain. “Hmph, barbarian land.”
As soon as he spoke, Ding Wu felt the snow under his feet vibrating. He quickly climbed higher, opened his Western telescope to look into the distance. The Mongol cavalry led by White Lotus Sect’s Li Zixin and A’duo Si’s Ordos tribe had indeed met on a narrow road and were already fighting!
Ding Wu’s strategy of using barbarians against barbarians was quite “vicious.” White Lotus Sect’s Li Zixin was from Shanyin, Datong, Shanxi—most familiar with the terrain here. This wasn’t his first time guiding Mongol cavalry to attack Datong. Ding Wu had arranged the grain trade with A’duo Si here precisely.
In the snowy weather with obstructed vision, they couldn’t see each other clearly. The cavalry saw cattle, horses, and camel-drawn cargo carts from afar and were overjoyed, thinking it was a merchant caravan going to the Western Regions. Before even attacking cities, they’d encountered fat sheep and immediately went to plunder.
A’duo Si was escorting grain with his men when he heard hoofbeats from all directions. Thinking other tribes had ambushed here specifically to steal grain, he immediately flew into rage: An Da Khan stealing my wife was one thing—he’s the Great Khan after all. Being cuckolded is known across the grasslands. Now even other tribes dare steal my grain—do they really think I, A’duo Si, am easy to bully? Anyone can step on me!
A’duo Si’s blood boiled. Drawing his sword, he shouted: “Grain is our tribe’s life! Today we’d rather bleed than lose a single grain!”
Morale soared. Everyone followed their leader charging into battle—cavalry against cavalry fighting in wind and snow.
Li Zixin was a collaborator, his relationship with Mongol cavalry like crocodiles and plover birds—only eating leftover scraps from crocodile mouths. Fighting wasn’t his business, so he hid in the rear early.
Previously, battle sounds would quickly subside into pleas for mercy and screams, then he’d emerge to collect some spoils.
But this time was different. Li Zixin hid in the rear waiting and waiting, but the sounds of close combat continued like blacksmithing, never subsiding.
Later it gradually stopped, but he heard no familiar pleas for mercy or laughter from moving spoils—only howling wind and snow and the scraping sound of carts crushing snow. Li Zixin found this ominous but didn’t dare move until only wind and snow remained, then rode his camel to the battlefield.
Corpses everywhere—snow had already buried half the bodies. Everyone was dead, even warhorses had been led away. The merchant caravan seen earlier had also disappeared, as if never existing.
The caravan couldn’t possibly have such formidable combat power—this must be a Daming trap!
Li Zixin hastily fled on his camel back to Fengcheng White Lotus Sect headquarters. Sect Leader Zhao Quan was puzzled: “How so fast? How much did you steal this time?”
Li Zixin lay on the camel’s back nearly frozen, wanting nothing more than to embrace a brazier for warmth. “Nothing at all—everyone’s dead. That new General Qi Jiguang lives up to his reputation. They set an ambush outside the passes, using merchant caravans to lure us. All our men died in battle.”
“You—” Zhao Quan angrily kicked Li Zixin away. “Useless! The sect’s ten thousand dan of grain is almost finished! We were counting on what you’d steal to make ends meet. If they starve to death, who will believe joining the sect avoids disaster? Where is my authority?”
“Moreover, this time you led the army to plunder your hometown, the entire army died, and you alone returned—how do I explain to An Da Khan?”
“Losing credibility on both sides—my thirty-year foundation in Fengcheng will be completely destroyed by you, this waste!”
Author’s Note: A strategist’s mouth, a killer’s blade. Thanks to little angels who voted or irrigated nutrient solution during 2020-10-16 02:28:442020-10-16 17:59:44
Thanks to little angels who threw mines: Yun Sheng, Ning Wan Wu Zhe De Xiao Cao Jiang 1 each;
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