The sky was like a great dome, snow drifting endlessly, blanketing all directions. On a snowy day, evening always came early, and just as the last trace of light was sinking among the mountains, the ancient shaman war-chant rose beside the bonfires in front of the Jurchen great tent.
The firelight held up a small space of orange, as if defying the vast heavens.
To the Jurchen and Liaodong people who had come from the northern lands, the wind and snow from the southwest were nothing strange. Many years ago, they had lived through nearly half a year of snow and storm each year, braving the bitter cold to cross mountains and ridges, hunting in snow up to their knees—an experience familiar to most of them.
Since their defeat of the Liao, such experiences had gradually become rarer.
Thanks to the spoils brought by war, they had been given warm houses, had built new manors, hired servants for their households, bought slaves, and in winter could rely on stoves rather than facing the harsh snow and the wolves and tigers that prowled it, just as hungry and fierce as before.
Their children could now begin to enjoy the pleasant, beautiful side of wind and snow. The younger children might no longer be able to walk the mountain paths through snow, but at least for this generation gathered before the bonfire, the memories of once cutting through thorns and brambles remained deeply etched into their souls—stories and pasts they could speak of openly and proudly at any time.
—O White Tiger Spirit of the mountain, roar! I am one who has surpassed ten thousand men and is favored by heaven! …… O sun of the nine southern mountains! O unyielding grandfather of the east! Watch over me— ……
The ancient shaman war-chant rose from the mouths of the gathered men. Wanyan Zonghan stood before the fire, the flames outlining his tall figure. After a moment, someone dragged a goat forward.
The struggling goat was bound to a post. A man drew a steel blade, and amid the war-chant, severed its four limbs. The hot blood was collected in bowls and offered to those before the fire. Zonghan took a bowl and drank the blood dry, and everyone else did the same.
The smell of blood churned over the crowd.
“The snow in the south falls thin.” Zonghan spoke slowly, looking around at everyone. “Thirty-eight years ago, in a snowstorm ten times fiercer than today’s, the Liao held the center of heaven, and many of us stood beside fires like this one, discussing whether to rebel against the Liao. Many were still hesitant then. My thinking and Aguda’s aligned without either of us saying a word.”
“At that time, the Wanyan clan had no more than two thousand men fit to fight. Yet looking back now, over these thirty-eight years, behind you lie countless tents. Those two thousand men have spread across the ends of the earth, and have taken the world into their hands.”
Behind the crowd, the military camp stretched on and on, countless fires flickering faintly in the wind and snow.
Wanyan Zonghan turned and walked a few steps, then picked up another log and threw it into the fire. He made no effort to lend weight to his words through deliberate gesture; his movements were natural, and yet this only made the air around him grow more still and solemn.
“Thirty-some years, gentlemen. Some of you here are the old brothers from back then. Even those who joined later are all part of our Great Jin now. Our Great Jin, unbeatable at ten thousand strong—that reputation was earned by you, and you’ll carry that name forward for the rest of your lives, and take pride in it. Are you pleased?”
Zonghan had been a hero of his generation, ordinarily commanding and severe, but not a man known for warmth. Though his words now were calm, given the defeat behind them, naturally no one thought he meant to praise them, and for a moment everyone fell silent. Zonghan gazed at the flames.
“With two thousand men, we rose against something as immense as the Liao, and later grew to tens of thousands, and overturned the entire Liao state. Thinking back on it today, it feels like a great dream. At first, whether it was me or Aguda, we both felt like ants—before the Liao of those days, the Jurchen were like small ants. We raised birds for the Liao people; the Liao thought we were wild men from the mountains! When Aguda went as chieftain to pay homage to Emperor Tianzuo, the Emperor said, you look rather thin, not like the other chieftains—why don’t you dance for me…”
“Aguda did not dance.”
As he spoke, Zonghan sat down on a wooden stake behind him. He waved casually at the others, gesturing for them to sit, but no one did.
“His Majesty today stepped forward then, and said, since Your Majesty wishes it, allow me to perform for you instead. Emperor Tianzuo was about to grow angry, but His Majesty had a bear released. In front of everyone, with his bare hands, he beat the bear to death. It’s spoken of as a heroic deed now, but we Jurchen were still ants before Emperor Tianzuo. He didn’t grow angry that day—perhaps he thought, how amusing, this little ant… Yet afterward, when the Liao envoys came each year, they still treated us Jurchen however they pleased. You can kill a bear, but he wasn’t afraid of you.”
“From the time I was a small child until I was in my teens, restless and quick to fight, yet every time I saw a Liao envoy, I had to kneel and kowtow. Even the fiercest warrior of the tribe had to kneel and kowtow, and no one thought it wrong. Those Liao envoys looked frail, but they dressed in fine silks and carried themselves with such arrogance—clearly a different kind of people from us. By the time I was old enough to think for myself, I too believed kneeling was proper. Why? The first time my father Saga took me out of the mountains and into the city, when I saw those Liao soldiers in their neat armor, when I learned of the Liao’s vast domain stretching ten thousand li, I felt that kneeling was only right.”
“Rebellion wasn’t born from some belief that we Jurchen were destined by heaven to take the realm—it was simply because life had become unbearable. When the two thousand rose up, Aguda hesitated, and so did I, but it was like when heavy snow seals the mountains and, for a mouthful of food, we had to go into the mountains to hunt bear and tiger. Facing something far more fearsome than any bear or tiger—the Liao—with nothing to eat, we had no choice but to go and hunt it.”
His hand rested on his knee, his eyes fixed on the flames. After a long pause, he finally gave a faint smile.
“From the moment we rose up in arms, Aguda, myself, and all of you standing here today—we were always first into every battle. Remarkable, truly. I only learned later that the Liao valued their own skins, and had no shortage of men who clung to life and feared death. The Wu Dynasty in the south was even worse—when it came to war, they’d say things like, a son of a wealthy house does not sit beneath the eaves, some literary nonsense that meant nothing at all! And so two thousand of us defeated tens of thousands, twenty thousand defeated hundreds of thousands. Many who charged forward with us back then are already dead. That we’ve lived to see this day—thinking of it now, it truly is remarkable. A couple of years back, Gushen said to me, looking across all of history, how many could achieve what we have? I thought about it, and truly, all of you are remarkable.”
His gaze passed over the flames, over those gathered, toward the sprawling camp behind them, further still into the distance, then drew back.
“I’ve been thinking today—it seems that all it took was for every one of us to charge first into every battle, and we achieved all this, because in this world, there are far too many who cling to life and fear death. Everyone gathered here today is remarkable. All these years charging into battle, I’ve seen few among you who were afraid. And that’s exactly how, from two thousand men back then, we’ve swept across the realm. Hundreds of thousands, millions upon millions—we’ve swept them all away.”
“You are capable of sweeping across the realm.” Zonghan’s gaze passed over the faces of the generals one by one, his warmth and calm gradually giving way to sternness, each word deliberate. “But—some say you lack the bearing to hold the realm once it’s won!”
“Charging first into every battle, fearless of death—that’s how you can seize this realm with your own hands. You swept away the Liao, you drove the Zhou clan of the Wu Dynasty from this stage. But can you actually hold this realm steady beneath you? Even Aguda said, while he still lived, that seizing the realm and holding the realm are not the same thing! His Majesty today has said again and again that he means to hold the realm together with all its people—look at the realm behind you!”
Zonghan’s voice was like a tiger’s roar, for a moment even drowning out the howling wind and snow around them. Some turned to look behind them—beyond the far reaches of the camp lay rolling mountains, and beyond the mountains, all was swallowed into boundless darkness.
“Where is your realm?”
“Is it just this camp of tens of thousands of men?”
“Is it just this stretch of barren mountains you can see today?”
“Is it just every place you’ve walked through and laid eyes on in this lifetime?”
“—Your realm, the Jurchen’s realm, is larger than everything you’ve ever seen put together. We destroyed the Liao, we destroyed the Wu Dynasty. Our realm spans the four seas and eight wildernesses! We have hundreds of millions of subjects! Are you worthy of them!? Do you even hold them in your hearts!?”
Zonghan’s voice roared together with the wind and snow. His hands pressed against his knees, the firelight illuminating his upright seated figure, swaying against the night sky. After these words, there was a long silence. Zonghan slowly rose, took up half a log, and threw it into the bonfire.
“You think that I gathered you all here today to tell you—yes, we lost a battle at Yushui Creek, but don’t lose heart, let me rally your spirits, or perhaps sit here and speak ill of Geli Li together with you…”
He fell silent for a moment. “That’s not it. What worries this prince is that you do not carry the breadth of heart to embrace the realm.”
……
“Before Aguda left us, he spoke to me of this more than once.”
Before the bonfire, Zonghan’s voice rose again: “We were able to take the realm with twenty thousand men—but can we govern the realm with only twenty thousand men?”
“The Late Emperor, and His Majesty today as well, including Gushen, whom all of you respect—what they’ve exhausted themselves over these years striving for is precisely this one matter… Among you here tonight are Xi people, Bohai people, Khitan people, and Han people from Liaodong. We’ve fought together for many years, and today you are all Jurchen—why is that? His Majesty treats all of you without distinction. This realm belongs to all of you too, not to the Jurchen alone.”
“If the Jurchen hold you in their hearts, then you share this realm together with the Jurchen. Whoever you hold in your hearts—that is who will become your realm!”
Zonghan looked out over the crowd. “More than ten years ago, our Great Jin took the Liao. We treated the Khitan without distinction, and so the Khitan among you became part of our Great Jin. At that time, we did not yet have the strength to take the Wu Dynasty, and so the Han people brought back from the Wu Dynasty all became slaves. Over these ten-odd years, our Great Jin has gradually gained the strength to conquer the Wu Dynasty, and His Majesty gave the order that Han slaves must not be killed wantonly, and that the Han people must be treated well. All of you—this is now the fourth southern campaign. The Wu Dynasty has fallen. Do you have the breadth of heart to take its place, to hold the Wu Dynasty’s realm as your own?”
He swept his hand out, his gaze turning sharp as it passed over them. “I see that you do not!”
“After the defeat at Yushui Creek, I watched you shift blame back and forth! Complain! Dig up excuses! Even now, you still haven’t grasped what kind of enemy stands before you. You still don’t understand why Gushen and I would rather abandon the Central Plains and Jiangnan than fail to bring down the southwest?”
“That man before you, that group of people—in the most inopportune circumstances imaginable, they killed the Wu Dynasty’s emperor! They severed every path of retreat! They made an enemy of the entire realm! Facing an army a million strong, they begged mercy from no one! For more than ten years, they fought their way out, endured their way through! And still you haven’t seen it! They are what we once were—”