Chapter 110: The Inner Circle of the Jin Kingdom

In Huining, the new Jurchen leadership was conducting its routine council, held every three days.

"That man from the Liao Kingdom, Zhao Yu, is almost here. I have a feeling there’s something strange about this. If he really is the murderer, would he have the guts to show his face?"

As Aguda’s eldest son, Wanyan Zonggan was always the first to speak, eager to assert the importance of his status.

Wanyan Xieye glanced at him and retorted with a sneer, "You can never be sure. Don't the Han people have a saying about mixing truth with deception? Perhaps this brat is indeed the killer. If you ask me, there’s no need for questions—just cut him down. Besides, isn’t the Great Song eager to have his head anyway?"

Since Aguda’s death, this uncle and nephew had been feuding openly and covertly. Whatever one supported, the other was certain to oppose, a dynamic that gave the other Jurchen leaders a massive headache.

As Wanyan Xieye finished, Wanyan Zonggan’s eyes widened, and he was about to erupt when Wanyan Zonghan let out a sharp cough. Zonggan glared hatefully at his uncle but fell silent.

Back when Aguda was still alive, Wanyan Zonghan had been one of the Four Bogile, wielding immense prestige among the Jurchen. Even with the status of Aguda’s eldest son, Zonggan was deeply wary of him.

Seeing the two stop their bickering, Wanyan Zonghan asked, "Xiyin, what is your take?"

Wanyan Xiyin, who had remained silent until now, scanned the room and spoke slowly: "I have conducted an investigation. Although Zhao Yu is young, he is cunning and backed by a group of elusive martial artists. It is difficult to determine if he is truly the one who killed the Great Khan. However, since he has entered our territory, we have plenty of time to verify this. We can also use him as a bargaining chip. If the Emperor of the Great Song wants him, he will have to offer a price that moves us."

The Great Song and the Jurchen had not yet truly clashed, and with the Great Liao standing between them, the Jurchen lacked a deep understanding of the Song’s true situation.

"I hear this Zhao Yu is the eighth son of the Song Emperor. I wonder what he could have done to make his own father hate him so much. Then again, even a fierce tiger does not eat its cubs. If a son makes a mistake, one should discipline him—is it really necessary to take his life?"

Among the generation of the Wanyan family carving out this empire, Wanyan Zonggan was the most useless; were it not for his status as the eldest son, he would have been cast aside long ago. Nevertheless, his words held a grain of truth.

Wanyan Xieye suddenly chuckled. "Since you sympathize with the boy so much, Zonggan, why not let him stay at your estate? They say the Han are wise; perhaps he can teach you a thing or two."

Though Zonggan lacked talent, he was not a fool. He immediately caught the mockery, slammed his hand on the table, and rose to his feet. "Wanyan Gao! Others may fear you, but do you think I do? If you’re dissatisfied, let’s go outside and settle this with a duel!"

"A duel? Fine by me. Who’s afraid of whom?"

Wanyan Xieye stood up, just as defiant.

Seeing the two heavyweights about to come to blows, the others rushed to mediate. They were a family holding a council; to fight over an outsider would be a laughingstock.

"Quiet, both of you! We hold the funeral for the Great Khan in seven days. During this time, whoever stirs up trouble again will be cast out by us all!"

Wanyan Zonghan’s single command settled the matter, forcing both Zonggan and Xieye to back down.

After discussing a few more matters, the others dispersed, leaving only Wanyan Xiyin and Wanyan Zonghan behind.

"Xiyin, this cannot continue. If we do not choose a new Great Khan soon, the Jurchen will eventually fall apart." Wanyan Zonghan finally voiced his inner fears.

They all knew that the Liao Kingdom was merely gasping its final breaths; the Jurchen army could march into Shangjing at any time. But the Jurchen were currently like loose sand; a single setback could lead to fragmentation—an outcome none of them wanted to see.

Wanyan Xiyin nodded, looked around, and lowered his voice. "Zonghan, why shouldn't it be you?"

Zonghan started, instinctively shaking his head. "No, no. The Jurchen have ancestral laws. By no measure do I have the superior claim. To force my way to the throne would only cause the tribes to turn against one another. It is impossible—absolutely impossible."

Wanyan Xiyin sighed inwardly. Among the tribal leaders, Wanyan Xieye was talented but lacked virtue, while Wanyan Zonggan held the title of eldest son but was useless, possessing neither the ability nor the character of his younger brother, Wanyan Zongwang.

Wanyan Zonghan was both virtuous and capable, but he lacked all ambition. Such a man would make a wise official or a great general, but never the kind of heroic leader Aguda had been.

"Very well. After the funeral, we shall summon all the tribal chieftains to decide on the new Khan together. Meanwhile, we will secretly mobilize our forces. Should anyone refuse to abide by the collective decision, we shall take decisive measures."

"It seems that is the only way. But for now, let this remain between the two of us, so as not to give others time to form factions."

"Exactly as it should be."

***

Humans are strange creatures. Sometimes, the more respect you show them, the less they value you; conversely, if you ignore them, they begin to cling to you.

Wanyan Ang seemed to be such a person. After being intimidated by Yan Qing, his attitude toward Zhao Yu took a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. He provided Zhao Yu with the finest food and drink, treating him with the utmost courtesy. In his words, the Jurchen respected heroes above all else, regardless of their origin.

For the sake of his own survival, Zhao Yu did not play the part of the haughty intellectual. He laughed and joked with Wanyan Ang, eating and drinking together as if they were brothers, almost to the point of swearing a blood oath.

From Wanyan Ang, Zhao Yu learned many secrets of the Jurchen that he had previously been unaware of, which bolstered his confidence in returning safely.

No matter how long the road, there is always an end. It was nearly March, and as the weather warmed, travelers became more frequent.

Wanyan Ang pointed to a fortress in the distance and told Zhao Yu that it was Huining, the capital of the Jurchen.

Having seen the scale of Shangjing, Zhao Yu had a mental image of what to expect, and he was not disappointed. Judging by the size of the city walls, this capital of the Jin Kingdom was arguably inferior to even a small county town in the Central Plains.

But what did that matter? So many magnificent cities in the Central Plains had ultimately failed to stop the advance of the Jurchen.

"Brother Yu, you asked many questions along the way, and I told you everything. The reason I was so forthcoming is that I never intended for you to go back. As far as I know, you are no longer tolerated by either the Great Song or the Liao. Since that is the case, why not stay here in the Great Jin? When the time comes, we can destroy the Liao and conquer the Song together, our horses trampling the Yellow River. Wouldn't that be grand?"

Zhao Yu was stunned by Wanyan Ang’s words. Looking at that rugged face, a single idiom flashed through his mind: "Playing the fool to catch the prey."

Zhao Yu recovered quickly. After a brief pause, he laughed, "Brother Wanyan is the Great Khan’s own brother. If you have such ambitions, I shall certainly risk my life to assist you."

Wanyan Ang stared at Zhao Yu with deep, inscrutable eyes for a moment, then broke into a smile.