When Abazha heard that Lin Fei had suddenly arrived, he was so startled that he rushed out of his tent to greet her. The moment he saw her, he asked immediately, “What has happened?”

But Lin Fei’s steps paused. She looked at Abazha.

In barely a year’s time, his hair — once mixed with grey — had gone completely white.

“Lin Fei?” Abazha said.

Lin Fei steadied herself and told him concisely, “Wuwei is dead. Dielitele has taken the throne. The situation within the royal court is stable. We have already decided to seek terms with Jiang Jingye.”

Grand Shaman Abazha’s lips pressed tightly together.

Inside the Grand Shaman’s tent, Abazha brewed tea with his own hands and served it to Lin Fei. Lin Fei felt as though she had been transported back to the days when they used to study and discuss learning together.

“Then what do you want from me?” Abazha asked, going straight to the point.

Lin Fei answered honestly, “I wish to ask the Grand Shaman to stand with us.”

But Abazha refused. “Dielitele has not yet demonstrated the qualities of a ruler capable of commanding loyalty. I cannot serve him.”

Lin Fei said, “When I say ‘us,’ I do not mean only the royal court and the young new Khan. My princess has already gone to the Flaming Sun King Tuqitang. I believe she can persuade him to stand with us.”

Abazha considered for a moment and nodded. “She is indeed capable of that.”

“But,” he said, “Tuqitang is also not enough to compel my service.”

Lin Fei looked into the old man’s eyes and pressed her lips together.

“Then let me ask you this: as the Grand Shaman, are you prepared to serve your brother’s enemy, Chuluo Khan?”

“Are you prepared to watch Chuluo slaughter your nephews and great-nephews, to kill all the men of the Ashina line?”

Abazha said in a low voice, “Chuluo has already come to see me and offered generous tribute.”

“Yes — he wants you to serve him as well. Of course he won’t kill you.” Lin Fei said, “But you are the Grand Shaman. You will have no children, no way to carry on the Ashina bloodline yourself. This line of heroes will end with you.”

Lin Fei watched as the muscles shifted beneath the thick beard that covered Abazha’s face. He was clenching his jaw.

The close-cropped beards that had once been fashionable throughout the Khanate were nowhere to be seen now. With war blazing on all sides and life so turbulent, no man had the leisure for the careful grooming of facial hair anymore — everyone now wore a full, unkempt beard.

“Of course Chuluo will not kill you right away. He needs a Grand Shaman to legitimize his claim to power, after all,” Lin Fei said. “But what about later? You bear the surname Ashina — the name Chuluo despises most of all. When he has finally pacified the steppe, when your students are capable of taking your place — trust me, you will die by any number of ‘accidents’ that anyone could imagine.”

“Abazha Kunashe — you have read so much history. How is it that you still cannot see through this? Why do you persist in clinging to the glories of the old Khan’s era?”

“The Central Plains and the steppe have stood in opposition for a thousand years. It has always been a cycle of rise and fall. When a new emperor rises in the Central Plains and the nation’s fortune runs strong, the heroes of the steppe have always known to bide their time and build their strength quietly. Every few decades the wheel turns — the Ashina line will certainly produce another hero like your brother.”

“Until that time comes — what would a temporary submission to the Central Plains bring? Trade routes, open markets, grain, tea, sugar, cloth… The people of the steppe would be able to live in peace and security. We people of the Central Plains have never needed steppe people as slaves. We have never even coveted the land of the steppe — it is far too cold here, and ill-suited for farming. All we have ever wanted is peace along the border.”

“But Chuluo is an entirely different matter. He understands nothing of production or exchange — all he knows is plunder and slaughter. Why has the steppe remained so mired in ignorance? Because history is buried, over and over, in cycles of raiding and killing, and must begin again from nothing each time.”

“Abazha — you should be the wisest person on this steppe.”

“Teacher. It is time for you to make your choice.”

…

…

When the howling winds of October swept down from the far north across the steppe, the great standard of the Mobei Khanate’s royal court — long in name only — and the three princes’ banners and the Grand Shaman’s sacred pennant all gathered together once more. With them came the banners of the Ashide clan and several smaller tribes.

The men of the Mobei Khanate had finally resolved to bow before the Central Plains.

Some voiced doubts about Zhao Princess Xie Yuzhang serving as mediator in the peace talks, asking: “Wasn’t the Zhao Kingdom destroyed by Da Mu?”

“No — the Zhao Kingdom was destroyed by its own incompetence and corruption. Dynasties rise and fall, the throne changes hands, once every three or four hundred years — it has always been so,” Xie Yuzhang said. “And when the common people along the border die in the flames of war, the blood that flows from their bodies does not tell you whether they are people of Zhao or people of Da Mu.”

“I, as a princess sent in a marriage alliance, was always meant to help the Central Plains and Mobei forge peace — that mission did not end with Zhao’s fall, nor did it end when Da Mu was established. As long as these fires of war continue to burn for a single day, as long as the steppe people and the Central Plains people continue to bleed for a single day, my mission exists for a single day.”

But Grand Shaman Abazha raised his eyes and challenged her: “Zhao Princess — each of us here has our own desires. And in all of this, what will you gain?”

This was the question on everyone’s mind. All eyes in the assembly turned toward the Zhao Princess.

Zhao Princess Xie Yuzhang lifted her chin slightly.

“Me?” She smiled. “When all of this is finished, my mission will be finished. As a person of the Central Plains, it will be time for me to go back.”

Ah — so that was her goal. Understanding what she sought, many finally set their minds at ease. No one believed a person could be entirely without self-interest; it was only those driven by clear goals and tangible benefit who were truly worthy of trust.

But Tuqitang and Dielitele both turned their eyes toward her, fixing her with long and wordless gazes.

Grand Shaman Abazha’s wooden staff struck the ground once, stirring up a plume of dust.

“Good — go home then,” said the Grand Shaman. “There is no man on this steppe worthy of you now.”

Both Tuqitang and Dielitele bowed their heads.

The men gathered there did not trust one another, but under the Grand Shaman’s authority, they swore oaths, drew blood, and vowed not to betray one another for the duration of the peace negotiations.

Every man pressed a bloodied handprint onto the sheepskin agreement.

“I and the Zhao Princess will serve as mediators,” said the Grand Shaman. “And who among you will come?”

The men hesitated.

Dielitele was the first to stand.

Tuqitang followed.

Abazha said, “One from the Ashina line is enough. Dielitele holds the Khan’s banner — let him represent everyone.”

The sheepskin scroll bearing the blood handprints was slowly rolled closed…

When Jiang Jingye received that roll of sheepskin, he let out a long, slow breath.

“She actually did it,” he said in admiration. “Jinshan — your cousin is truly remarkable.”

But Yang Huaishen was silent for a long moment before he said, “She was never this capable.”

It was merely what had been forged through years of hardship — swallowed blood and hidden tears.

“Don’t be sorrowful. Once this is over, she can return to Yunjing.” Jiang Jingye clapped Yang Huaishen on the shoulder. “Come on — the Mobei envoys should be arriving. Let us go and welcome her!”

…

…

In the tenth month of the third year of Da Mu’s Kaiyuan reign, an urgent courier carried the eight-hundred-li express from the northern front, bearing the good news that the many tribes of Mobei had submitted and pledged allegiance.

The Da Mu court accepted the submission and formally incorporated the tribes, conferring upon them the designation of the “Five Guards of Mobei.” Of the five guards, the Ashina clan held four; the Ashide clan held one.

The Da Mu Emperor commanded the Five Guards to support Marquis of Anyi Jiang Jingye in continuing the northern campaign, with the army’s spearhead pointed toward the Tianshan Mountains.

Delivered alongside the news of the Five Tribes’ submission were Jiang Jingye’s memorial petitioning for merit on Princess Baohua’s behalf, and a handwritten letter from Baohua Princess herself — the marriage alliance princess of the former Zhao, who had been sent to Mobei all those years ago.

Once the brilliant jewel of Yunjing’s capital, Princess Baohua had written to the throne, petitioning to be permitted to return home.

Da Mu Emperor Li Gu: approved.

By imperial decree: Princess Baohua of the former Zhao was to be welcomed back to court with the full honors due a princess.

The atmosphere in the royal court’s encampment, once so heavy and grim, was utterly transformed. People’s faces finally began to carry smiles.

The Zhao people were tremendously busy — busy packing their belongings to go back to the Central Plains!

Eight years they had lived here, and in that time had accumulated many possessions. Now they had to choose what to leave behind, which was genuinely heartbreaking. Yet even so, they were overjoyed — what could possibly be worth more than returning to Yunjing?

As for the cattle and sheep they had raised — there was no way to take them across a thousand miles of land. Aside from what was slaughtered and made into dried meat provisions for the journey, the remainder: the kind-hearted Princess purchased them all at fair market prices, ensuring that the simultaneous large-scale transactions would not let the nomads drive down the price on them.

The Zhao people were deeply moved and grateful.

As for Xie Yuzhang herself, she had even more cattle and sheep of her own, and selling them off in bulk inevitably meant accepting a loss. Even so, a considerable number simply could not be sold at all.

After the recent war, even the people of the royal court could not absorb livestock in such large quantities.

To outside eyes, the Zhao Princess appeared to have taken a very significant loss.

In reality, these losses had been accounted for long in advance. Xie Yuzhang did not particularly care.

Inside her tent, things were also very busy now. The handmaids had been trained well — they moved with discipline and order, active yet not frantic. The female slaves were all visibly excited, for the Zhao Princess had said that women on the steppe had an even harder lot than most, and so she would not sell them — she intended to bring them all with her to the Central Plains.

In the midst of this busy time, Dielitele came.

“I have some things I wish to say to you,” he said.

Xie Yuzhang dismissed the handmaids. The tent held only the two of them. She poured tea for Dielitele herself.

Dielitele looked around at the tent, now nearly bare, and asked, “You leave tomorrow?”

Xie Yuzhang handed him his tea. “Yes.”

Her face was soft as a lotus blossom, and she wore an expression of easy relief — nothing like the polite but detached demeanor she had always shown him before. Dielitele’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment.

“Baohua,” he asked, “you never once had any intention of staying on the steppe forever, did you?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “Everyone has their own home. Mine is in the Central Plains.”

Dielitele asked again, “You refused to have Father Khan’s child all those years — that was so you could return home one day without being held back by anything, wasn’t it?”

Xie Yuzhang looked up at him, but said nothing.

Dielitele understood her answer from that silence.

He took the cup she had offered — but did not drink. He bent down and set it back on the low table.

“I have one more question for you,” the robust young man said as he straightened. “A little over two years ago, Tuqitang was nearly assassinated, which led to his break with Father and his declaration of independence as the Flaming Sun King. Was that your doing?”