[Lightscreen]
[The Jin dynasty's policy toward the steppe was basically like planting gourds in your front yard and suddenly thinking you owned the whole neighborhood.
Early on, the Jin supported the Tatar tribes, helping them deliver heavy blows to the early Mongol tribes and the Kereit.
But before long the Tatars started getting cocky, forcing the Jin to rack their brains until they finally had to personally put down the very watchdog they had raised.
Those interventions completely upset the earlier balance where multiple steppe tribes had coexisted.
While the Tatars strutted around under Jin protection, smaller tribes that wanted to avoid disaster were gradually absorbed by the Kereit and the Mongols.
And when the Tatars were beaten half to death, Temujin, who was not yet Genghis Khan, sat down with Wang Khan of the Kereit and did some thinking:
The steppe belongs to the people of the steppe. What kind of nobody is this Zhadaran bunch, running errands for the Jin?
So the two tribes joined forces, smashed the Zhadaran, absorbed their people, and even went to the Jin to collect rewards.
At that point, only the Mongols and the Kereit remained as dominant powers in the central steppe. Anyone with eyes could see that the steppe was drifting toward unification. A classic case of bad intentions accidentally producing good results.
But right at that moment, Han Tuozhou of the Southern Song lifted the factional prohibitions and began preparing for a northern campaign.
That made the old Jurchen elites extremely nervous:
Isn't Henan and Hebei far more important than some grasslands? Your Majesty, you must stand up for us slave-owning nobles!
So the Jin pulled their attention back from the steppe and began fortifying the Huai River front. With no one interfering, the steppe entered its final battle-royale phase.
The Kereit, whose ancestors had once served the Liao as the Ugudeile tribe, were wealthy, powerful, and had profited enormously from the destruction of the Tatars and the conquest of the Zhadaran. At their peak they boasted more than three hundred thousand people. In short, they were frighteningly strong.
Under those circumstances, Wang Khan of the Kereit decided to strike first. One day he praised Temujin's looks, the next day he praised his strength, and eventually he made an offer:
Come be my son… no, my son-in-law.
Temujin thought it over. His blade was dull and his horse thin. What exactly could he use to fight them?
Better lie low for now. Once I become the Kereit's honored in-law, seizing power later should be easy enough.
But before he could even get to the stage of the son-in-law devouring the master, Temujin received secret intelligence:
The Kereit weren't preparing a beautiful bride for him. They were preparing executioners.
So the war between the Mongols and the Kereit broke out in a rush.
The Kereit were already strong in men and horses, and they had prepared in advance. Charging head-on clearly wasn't an option.
As the famous literary figure "Zhuge Not-So-Bright" once said, if the green hills remain, Heaven won't starve a clever survivor.
So Temujin ran. In the end only a little over four thousand riders escaped the Kereit pursuit with him.
But as the saying goes, when you're on one hit point and refuse to use your ultimate, you're just waiting to get counter-killed. Pop the champagne at halftime and you're finished.
Even though they hadn't captured the Mongol leader, Wang Khan was already celebrating. And that was exactly when Temujin struck back and raided his base.
While the Kereit were still partying, Temujin, guided by insiders, launched a night raid straight at the center of the celebration and wiped out Wang Khan's ruling core in one sweep.
After his victory, Temujin married the eldest daughter of Wang Khan's younger brother, while his son Tolui married the second daughter. Father and son became brothers-in-law within the Kereit. Everyone was satisfied.
From the perspective of the Kereit nobility, Wang Khan's fall meant the tribe now had a far brighter future. Also satisfying.
Over the next three years, Temujin got along extremely well with the remaining steppe powers, the Naiman, the Merkit, and others.
Meanwhile, the Song and Jin also "got along well" with each other.
Except their version meant gradually reaching an understanding, like a harmonious uncle and nephew.
Temujin, on the other hand, unified the steppe, assumed the title of Genghis Khan, and the Mongols, the so-called Scourge of God, were now fully forged and ready to lash out in all directions.]
Inside Kunning Palace, Empress Ma's expression grew more serious.
Earlier, Hongwu had ordered that the History of Yuan be compiled under supervision at Tianjie Temple. After it was finished, he had brought her a copy so she could understand the strengths and weaknesses of the Mongol Yuan and help advise on state policy.
But reading that history was difficult. Let alone comparing it to the Records of the Grand Historian of the Former Han, even beside the Tang histories compiled under the Song it fell far short in readability.
It lacked editing and critical comparison. Epitaphs, spirit-path inscriptions, family records, and biographical notes had been copied in wholesale. The result felt unsystematic and messy.
By contrast, the light screen before her now presented Song, Jin, Western Liao, and Mongol Yuan side by side, supplemented with extremely simple but clear illustrations. The political situation of more than a century ago suddenly became strikingly easy to grasp.
The Jin could neither suppress the steppe tribes as thoroughly as the Han and Tang once had, nor could they awe them through shared origins like the Liao. Instead, after alternating victories and defeats and ruling with harsh policies, they had unintentionally pushed the steppe tribes into a situation of "quarreling at home while resisting outsiders together," forming a sense of shared hostility toward external enemies.
Even the perspective that Western Liao's westward migration detached it from the chain reactions of steppe politics offered her considerable insight.
Yes. She would need to think this through carefully, organize her thoughts, and then speak to Hongwu about it.
Just then, the doors of Kunning Palace were pushed open.
First came a voice:
"Only I'm going in. Don't disturb the Empress's rest."
Then came hurried footsteps.
"How are you feeling, girl? An attendant said he saw palace maids peeking around here. Figured something must be going on, so I came to check."
Empress Ma had placed a small writing table on the bed, with paper and brush laid out before her, facing the screen and the palace doors.
So when she looked up, she immediately saw a broad, heroic figure in formal robes striding in. His body and cheeks had filled out quite a bit compared to his campaigning years. That actually made her rather happy.
But after thinking about the timing, she asked,
"The Heavenly Longevity Festival ended this early?"
The round but dignified face showed a hint of nonchalance.
"It's not over. Just too boring."
"All those civil and military officials coming one by one to offer wine. Their smiles look nice, but you think I can't tell who's sincere?"
"I drank half my fill, barely touched the food. My stomach's uncomfortable. Better eat something from your kitchen to settle it."
Her expression softened.
"Are you thinking of drinking with Xu Da, Tang He, and Li Wenzhong, the ones leading troops in the field?"
"And now that this is your first birthday celebration, are you remembering Chang Yuchun and Deng Yu, separated from you by the underworld, and feeling sorrow?"
The man sighed.
"You really do understand me…"
Then he suddenly raised his brows.
"And what kind of ridiculous nickname is 'Ba-ba'?"
He leaned forward, craning his neck.
"Let me see what you're writing instead of resting properly… Is that nickname something you scribbled on this paper? I ought to punish this paper for the crime of irreverence."
Empress Ma laughed despite herself, hiding the paper behind her so it wouldn't get snatched and torn, then tilted her chin toward the screen.
"Look there."
The Ming emperor, half climbing onto the bed, turned his head, and was so startled he nearly rolled off.
"What is that?"
Empress Ma stood with hands on her hips, lips pressed in a smile.
"What is it? You ordered people to bring it here yourself, and now you're asking me?"
The round, heroic face looked completely baffled.
"But… but when this screen was in Huagai Hall, it didn't look like this at all…"