N-A-A Chapter 7 Guo Jing Heads South!
Chapter 7 Guo Jing Heads South!
"It's a pity, it would have been better if they were Han Chinese."
Yang Kang repeated it to himself in a low voice, his eyes thoughtful.
Then, he walked to the tree trunk and pulled out the pear blossom spear.
The gun barrel was straight, the tip was worn, and the red tassel was covered with a few wood chips, swaying in the wind.
Clearly, this gun, which had accompanied its owner for many days and nights, was abandoned simply because it was defeated by someone the owner did not like.
Yang Kang withdrew his gaze and glanced with slight regret in the direction where Yang Miaozhen had ridden away.
"What a magnificent horse!"
He muttered to himself, then looked down at the spear in his hand, picked it up, and left.
Back in Yidu Prefecture, Yang Kang leaned the pear blossom spear left by Yang Miaozhen against the table, casually flipped through Wanyan Honglie's letters, then tossed them aside, picked up another report, and handed it to Yelü Chucai in front of him.
"Many soldiers in the Red Coat Army, as well as the troops I brought with me, have heard about my current changes. But there's one interesting story they've heard."
Yang Kang said.
"They said that although I am the reincarnation of Xiang Yu, it is a pity that I am not a Han Chinese."
Yelü Chucai did not respond, but simply looked at him quietly.
"Jinqing, do you think it's better for me to be a Han Chinese or a Jurchen?"
Yang Kang turned around.
"There are no outsiders here, so I hope you can be honest with me."
Yelü Chucai remained silent for a moment, then raised his head and looked calmly at Yang Kang.
"Your Highness, I am a Khitan."
He said that first, and then slowly continued.
"When the Liao dynasty fell to the Jin dynasty, some of my clansmen fled to the grasslands, while others became subjects of the Jin state."
"My father once served as an official in the Jin Dynasty, and I myself once thought that the affairs of the world would ultimately be either Jin or Song, either Han or Hu."
"But later, when I read history books, I came across the Tang Dynasty's golden age and discovered that Li Shimin's grandmother was a Xianbei, and that there were Turks, Goguryeo people, and people from the Western Regions in the court."
"There are even Japanese people among them!"
"The Tang Dynasty never asks who you are, only what you can do for the Tang Dynasty."
Yelü Chucai paused, his gaze falling on Yang Kang's double pupils that shimmered with a faint golden hue.
"The young prince asked me whether it is better to be a Han Chinese or a Jurchen."
"In my opinion, the question itself is flawed."
"The people of the world will not support you just because you are a Han Chinese, nor will they despise you just because you are a Jurchen."
"They only care about one thing: can you feed them? Can you stop them from being oppressed by corrupt officials? Can you prevent their sons from dying in vain on the battlefield?"
"The Red Turban Army soldiers said, 'It's a pity they're not Han Chinese,' because they were afraid."
"I fear that you are ultimately just a Jurchen prince, that your killing of corrupt officials is merely a passing whim, and that one day you will treat them like cattle and horses, just like other Jurchen nobles."
"As I have observed, the young prince has been doing things in Shandong these days: killing Tian Zhuo, beheading Ya Wuta, distributing land and exempting taxes, and accepting the surrender of the Red Turban Army."
"What I saw was neither what the Jurchens were doing nor what the Han people were doing."
"What I see is a person doing the right thing."
After Yelü Chucai finished speaking, he bowed deeply.
"Therefore, my answer is that Your Highness need not concern yourself with whether you are Han or Jurchen."
"If you can enable the people of this world to live and give them hope, then who you are is unimportant."
"What matters is what you do."
He straightened up and said one last thing.
"Besides... the appearance of double pupils is a sign of destiny! Since it has chosen you, it must have its reasons."
After listening, Yang Kang did not speak immediately. He walked to the window, looked at the twilight outside Yidu Prefecture, and then suddenly turned back.
"The Han people want me to be Han, and the Jurchen people want me to be Jurchen."
Yang Kang said.
"And what about you? Do you wish I were a Khitan?"
Upon hearing this, Yelü Chucai was slightly taken aback, then gave a wry smile.
"Your Highness, I am a Khitan."
He repeated his opening remarks, but his tone was a few degrees more somber than before.
"Of course, I hope that there will be a hero of the Khitan people in this world, that the Mandate of Heaven will be bestowed upon the Khitan people, and that one day the Khitan people will be able to stand up again between heaven and earth and no longer be people of a subjugated nation."
"But I know all too well that destiny is neither something I can control, nor something I should hope for."
He raised his head and looked at Yang Kang with a calm gaze.
"If I were to say today that I hope Your Highness is a Khitan, then what difference would there be between me and those Red Turban Army soldiers who hope you will become Han Chinese, and those members of the Wanyan clan who hope you will become Jurchens?"
"They long for their own people, and I long for my own people too. In the end, it's all about selfishness."
"But if destiny were driven by self-interest, there would have been no century-long standoff between the Liao and Song dynasties, no Jurchen conquest of the Central Plains, and certainly no Genghis Khan reigning supreme over the desert!"
"I have lived for over forty years and have seen the Liao, Jin, Song, and Mongol peoples. I have seen the fall of kingdoms, the chaos of war, and too many people killing each other over who you are."
"I no longer expect a savior for the Khitan people to appear in this world. I only hope that there will be a savior, no matter who he is."
After he finished speaking, he bowed again.
Yang Kang leaned against the desk and remained silent for a long time.
"You Confucian scholars are always so meticulous in your words and deeds."
He suddenly smiled.
"However, Jinqing, I always feel that there are still more Han people in this world."
"Given your Jurchen identity and the current decline of the Jin Dynasty, it seems better for you to be a Han Chinese. Don't you think so?"
Yelü Chucai did not answer immediately after hearing this.
He knew that Yang Kang was not joking, nor was he testing him, or at least not entirely.
Yelü Chucai spoke, his tone carrying a hint of helpless laughter.
"Although I am a Khitan, I have indeed studied Confucian classics."
"Confucianism teaches that the people are the most important, the state is next, and the ruler is the least important."
"What are the people? They are Han Chinese, Jurchens, Khitans, and all living people in this world."
He paused, looking into Yang Kang's eyes.
"It is true that the young prince said there are more Han people in the world."
"It is a fact that the Great Jin Dynasty is in decline. From the perspective of 'achieving success' alone, it seems that being a Han Chinese is indeed much easier than being a Jurchen."
"I would like to ask Your Highness a question: Do you want to be the one who 'follows the times,' or the one who 'changes the times'?"
Yang Kang raised an eyebrow slightly but remained silent.
Yelü Chucai continued.
Those who achieve great things are not bound by their social status.
"Or rather—the identity of those who achieve great things is never determined by their lineage, but by the path they choose to take."
Yelü Chucai bowed again.
"So when the young prince asked me if it would be better to be a Han Chinese, my answer was, I don't know. I only know that being someone who can help the people survive is better than anything else."
"As for whether you are Han Chinese or Jurchen, once you truly change this world, then it will be up to future generations to decide who you are."
After listening, Yang Kang remained silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly.
"Jinqing is quite right! However, sometimes, our status is not something we can decide for ourselves."
"A person cannot decide whether they are born Han, Khitan, or Jurchen, just like I am."
Dusk seeped in through the treehouse windows, landing on Yang Kang's double pupils, which faintly shimmered with gold.
Looking at the seventeen-year-old boy, Yelü Chucai suddenly felt that his long speech was perhaps not as sincere as this one sentence.
He didn't say anything more, just bowed deeply.
Outside the treehouse, the lights of Yidu Prefecture lit up one by one.
The distant land of Shandong lies silent and vast, like a blank scroll waiting to be written on.
After Yelü Chucai left, Yang Kang sat alone in the treehouse, staring at the pear blossom spear leaning against the table, remaining silent for a long time.
. . . . . .
Several days later, Yang Kang, carrying the spear, returned to the Red Turban Army's camp.
Along the way, various generals, including Yang An'er, cast strange glances at him.
Yang Kang sat alone in the large tent, with only Yang An'er beside him.
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Yang An'er finally spoke up.
"Young Prince, where did you get this spear?"
Yang Kang looked at Yang An'er with curiosity, then stood up and handed the spear to him.
"Do you know the owner of this gun?"
Yang An'er took the pear blossom spear, her fingers gently tracing the fine wear marks on the shaft, a complex expression flashing in her eyes.
"My younger sister has practiced martial arts since childhood. This spear was a gift from my father when she was thirteen years old."
He said slowly, "I have been with her for many years, traveling the world, fighting on the battlefield, and engaging in battles. I have never seen her leave my side."
After a moment of silence, he raised his head, looked at Yang Kang, and spoke in a low and resolute tone.
"No one in the world knows the owner of this spear better than I do. Young Prince...do you know her too?"
Yang Kang shook his head slightly, a smile appearing on his lips.
"It was just a brief encounter. However, her marksmanship is indeed superb. Among all the martial arts practitioners I've met, she is undoubtedly the best in terms of technique alone."
Upon hearing this, Yang An'er's gaze sharpened slightly, but she did not respond, instead waiting quietly for Yang Kang to continue.
"And her horse."
Yang Kang paused, seemingly recalling something.
"Its entire body is as black as ink, its four hooves are snow-white, it is tall and strong, and when it runs, its four hooves fly, and it can travel a thousand miles a day without any problem."
"I have seen many warhorses, but none can compare to its majesty."
What should we call a horse like this?
Yang An'er's lips curled up slightly, and her eyes softened.
"The Golden Crow. The Golden Crow treads on snow, traveling a thousand miles a day."
"The horse was entirely black except for its four white hooves, and when it ran, it was like a black lightning bolt cutting through the snowfield."
"I bought it for a lot of money at the horse market in Liaodong back then. It was just a foal at the time, but she took a liking to it at first sight and insisted on raising it."
"Later... I just followed her around."
Yang Kang nodded.
"Golden Crow, what a wonderful name!"
Yang An'er looked down at the pear blossom spear in her hand. The spearhead was worn and the red tassel was covered with a few wood chips, swaying gently in the wind.
He sighed softly, "That's just how she is."
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he looked at Yang Kang with a touch of curiosity.
He didn't expect that Yang Kang would mention Yang Miaozhen's spear skills and that fine horse, but would not say a word about the appearance of his sister, who, although not a celestial beauty, was still famous far and wide.
"That's interesting," Yang An'er asked casually.
"Hmm, is the young prince interested in the Golden Crow?"
He had a smile on his face and spoke casually, as if he were talking about an ordinary horse.
But the question he didn't ask was something both of them knew perfectly well: what he really wanted to ask was whether Yang Kang was still interested in Yang Miaozhen.
Yang Kang said calmly.
"Unexpectedly, that woman was General Yang's sister, the famous Fourth Sister of the Pear Blossom Spear."
"The name of Fourth Sister is admired by all the heroes of the land."
"However, a gentleman does not take what others cherish. But if you encounter such a magnificent horse again in the future, General Yang, please keep an eye out for it for me."
Yang An'er was slightly taken aback, then a look of relief flashed in her eyes.
He smiled, picked up the teacup, took a sip, and his tone was even more relaxed than before.
"Since Your Highness is interested in the Golden Crow, I'll take note. If I encounter such a magnificent horse again in the future, I will definitely keep an eye out for it for Your Highness."
Yang Kang suddenly changed the subject and became serious.
"Victory and defeat are common occurrences in war. Fourth Sister's spear skills are unparalleled. She was defeated by me not because of her techniques, but because of my overwhelming strength."
"While I dare not claim to be invincible, I certainly consider myself a hero of our time."
"Her defeat at my hands is not a disgrace to this pear blossom spear."
He paused, his gaze falling on the spear, his tone calm and solemn.
"Therefore, General Yang, please return it to its rightful owner."
Yang An'er was stunned; he hadn't expected Yang Kang to suggest returning the item to its rightful owner.
"Could it be that I've misunderstood?"
"Is Yang Kang genuinely interested in the Golden Crow, or does he have designs on Miao Zhen?"
Yang An'er muttered to herself.
Yang Kang seemed to see his confusion, smiled slightly, and continued.
"Emperor Xuan of the Western Han Dynasty was said to have cherished the legacy of the Southern Garden and had deep affection for the old sword."
"How can a young man's martial arts training equipment be discarded so easily? This spear has been with Fourth Sister for so many years, it shouldn't be abandoned just because of one defeat."
He stood up and handed the gun to Yang An'er with both hands.
"General Yang, return it to her for me. If she refuses to accept it... just say it was my idea."
Yang An'er looked at the pear blossom spear in front of her, then at Yang Kang's clear and calm eyes, and remained silent for a long time.
Finally, he reached out and took the gun.
"Very well! Your Highness, I thank you on behalf of Miaozhen."
Yang Kang said no more and got up to leave the military camp.
Back at his residence, he and Yelü Chucai devoted themselves to dealing with the messy cases in various prefectures and counties of Shandong. He did not meet with Yang An'er again until they returned to Zhongdu.
In the days that followed, Yang Kang seemed to have forgotten the pressure from Zhongdu City, and he rarely replied to Wanyan Honglie's letters.
He devoted himself wholeheartedly to working with Yelü Chucai to reform officialdom and restore production and people's livelihoods.
He worked tirelessly for half a year, leaving his mark on almost every corner of Shandong.
The image of the prince with double pupils, a reincarnation of a tyrant, has become deeply ingrained in people's minds over the past six months.
Zhongdu City could not allow Yang Kang to expand his influence in Shandong without limit. However, in just half a year, Shandong had almost become Yang Kang's independent kingdom, forming a de facto semi-separatist state.
If this trend continues unchecked, it won't be long before Shandong is once again at war with the Jin Dynasty.
At this moment, a situation that even Wanyan Honglie did not want to see occurred.
One reason that forced Yang Kang to return was that Bao Xiruo's birthday was approaching.
It's my mother's birthday, and as her son, I definitely have to go back.
Yang Kang understood that he had to go back and sever ties with the Jin Dynasty and his identity as a Jurchen.
Because this year, Guo Jing should have left the Mongolian desert and headed south, and his biological father in this life, Yang Tiexin, should have appeared in Zhongdu City around the same time.
The military and political affairs of Shandong were handed over to Yelü Chucai for full authority, with Wanyan Chenheshang assisting in command of the troops. The three leaders of the Red Turban Army remained in their respective locations, without communicating with each other, while a secret spies were stationed in Zhongdu to relay messages.
On the morning Yang Kang set off back to Zhongdu, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
Outside the city gate of Yidu Prefecture, thirty Iron Pagoda guards were ready to go. Yang Kang mounted his horse and was about to crack the whip when he suddenly seemed to sense something and turned to look at the city wall.
There was no one on the city wall. He smiled and rode away.
Just as he turned around, a red figure slightly turned to the side and hid in the shadows behind a crenellation of the city wall.
Yang Miaozhen leaned against the cold stone wall, her fingers unconsciously stroking the pear blossom spear, her eyes calm, the wind making her red dress flutter.
No one knew she had been there, except for Yang Kang, who had been staring at that corner ever since she appeared.
When Yang Kang rode his horse back north, it was already the end of October. The north wind of Zhongdu City was gradually fading into the distance.
Zhongdu City gradually regained its former vitality.
Upon hearing the news of the triumphant return of Prince Wanyan Kang of Zhao, the people of Zhongdu City erupted in cheers and celebrations.
Countless people flocked to the streets, crowding both sides of the road, ready to catch a glimpse of Wanyan Kang, the young Zhao king who had suddenly grown double pupils according to rumors.
Guo Jing stood to one side among the crowd by the roadside.
Yang Tiexin and Mu Nianci, father and daughter, who were originally holding a martial arts contest to find a husband but were suddenly interrupted, were on the other side.