Chapter 1003: Journey to Nanjing (3)

Lately, everyone at the Seol Family Trading House had been living through blissful days.

Because the most exalted, highest-dignity Wise Goddess Descended into the Human World, Heavenly Demon Supreme Being, Lord of the Heavenly Gods was frequently revealing her sacred face.

Of course, the real reason was that Qing—unable to stand any more of Choi Ri-ong’s tantrums and sulking—had started regularly bringing Jayeo over and staying the night.

In the past, they only got to “receive” her presence once when she went out, and once when she returned. So they would prepare offerings to present to the Supreme Being... time would pass... then they would prepare again... and if she didn’t come, they would prepare yet again—waiting and longing the whole while.

That’s right.

Offerings were a serious matter.

“Ah, Miss? What brings you here—oh, right. I was making dried mullet roe and I ended up making too much. Please, take some of this.”

“Wait...? How do you even make too much dried mullet roe? You’re saying that like you baked too many cookies.”

Dried mullet roe was the same general category as a high-end delicacy in Qing’s homeland: a side dish, snack, or drinking food—mullet roe sacs dried whole.

And because the “drying” part was so finicky and labor-intensive, it was naturally expensive.

You had to dry it in a breezy place under the sun, then move it into shade—two or three times a day, every day. If it dried well, it was done. If it didn’t, it rotted...

“Besides, you can’t even catch mullet here, can you?”

Qing tilted her head.

By now she’d swallowed plenty of Central Plains water, and since she was deadly serious about food, she’d become especially sharp on Central Plains cuisine.

“Be honest. You didn’t go all the way out to the Eastern Sea just to make this for me, did you?”

“Hk—th-that is...”

In that instant, the Seol Family Trading House guards all turned into axe-eyed killers as they glared at the guy whose turn it was to offer today.

I told you to keep it reasonable. Dried mullet roe is too far. I knew it the moment that bastard started heading for the Eastern Sea coast to catch mullet.

The guard on offering duty started sweating buckets.

“Look at you. You’re overthinking yourself. Thanks—I’ll eat it.”

Then Qing lowered her voice.

“You’re making these on the side to sell, right? If it’s good, I’ll spread the word around for you.”

“Yes—yes! That’s right! That’s what we decided! Thank you—thank you, I’m honored!”

The way he stuttered and looked suspicious, it seemed like the Seol Family Trading House forbade side gigs.

Which was stingy, honestly. Why forbid something like that?

Either way: acquired dried mullet roe. Massive win.

After that, Qing walked into the inner courtyard, smoothly collecting the snack pouch that was now offered to her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe word had already gotten in—or maybe it was an old man’s supernatural “grandchild detection”—but Choi Ri-ong was already out there to greet them, and his expression bloomed bright and clear.

“Ohhh, the child is here.”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Good, good. My little one, you worked hard coming here. Are you hungry? What does my child want to eat today?”

“Ah, Grandpa. I’m only stopping by for a moment today. Something came up and I have to go to Nanjing quickly. Jayeo’s with me, so I want to go by boat—can you prepare just one boat for me?”

This was the scary part of getting used to people.

In the past, even if Qing planned to take a boat, she wouldn’t have boldly asked for a boat like she’d left one on deposit—like she was demanding it back.

She would have gone down to the dock, lifted the Dragon King Token high, and shouted first-come, first-served—one person, no, one boat.

Or even if she used the trading house’s boats, she would have asked whether there happened to be a boat going to Nanjing, and tried to hitch a ride.

They said if kindness continued, it turned into a right.

She was chartering a boat so Jayeo could travel safely—shouldn’t Grandpa naturally prepare one?

Though in this case, it was a little ambiguous.

Because using the Seol Family Trading House’s wealth really was Qing’s perfectly natural right.

“How urgent can it be that you won’t even eat lunch before leaving? Even if we prepare a boat, do you think one just appears instantly? Eat lunch before you go.”

To an old man, meals were a serious matter.

Especially meals eaten with a grandchild perched on his lap—one of the greatest joys late in life.

And if Grandpa was happy, then...

So they ate lunch at the Seol Family Trading House, then boarded one of the trading house’s pleasure boats at the private dock inside.

And thus—the trip to Nanjing, departure!

*****

The Central Plains people call all border tribes “barbarians.”

But strictly speaking, even among barbarians, there were the real barbarians—the original barbarians.

Those were the Tatars. The Mongols.

And if you shift the angle a bit—

The Mongols call their own country the Great Mongol Empire, or the Great Yuan Empire, or the Empire of the Forty and Four Clans.

The “Great Mongol Empire” refers to the Mongol Empire—human history’s largest empire—founded long ago by Temüjin, the son of Yesügei (how is that even a person’s name).

Meaning: they claim they are the descendants of that Great Mongol Empire.

The “Great Yuan Empire” refers to the Yuan Dynasty—a Central Plains dynasty established when Kublai, Temüjin’s grandson, conquered the Central Plains.

Meaning: they claim they are the legitimate heirs of the Yuan Dynasty.

But the Empire of the Forty and Four Clans?

That was a name that described the Mongol barbarians’ situation with brutal accuracy after the Yuan Dynasty fell.

After the Yuan collapsed, the Mongol Empire was torn to pieces. What had originally been a vast, tribal coalition scattered back into separate tribes.

Then they fought each other for dominance over the Mongols—until later it split cleanly into two: a forty-tribe coalition in the east, and a struggle between four great houses in the west.

So: forty major tribes plus four great houses.

The Empire of the Forty and Four Clans.

Of course, “Empire of the Forty and Four Clans” was the polished phrasing.

In plainer terms?

It meant: From now on, kill each other, and they kept fighting nonstop.

That was why, after the fall of the Great Yuan Empire, the Mongol barbarians stayed barbarians.

They never united, because they were too busy fighting each other.

And honestly, for nomadic peoples, this kind of constant killing and fighting was the normal form.

Because nomads didn’t roam because they loved roaming.

They roamed because their environment was not an environment where you could settle.

The Mongol Empire’s biggest problem was that most of its vast territory wasn’t suitable for farming.

So the Mongols lived as nomads.

Farmers planted seeds and lived stuck to one patch of land. People who couldn’t farm raised horses and sheep, fed them grass, and when the grass ran out, moved to find a new pasture. Repeat forever.

But places with good grass—and places where salt, the most important resource for nomads, could be found—were limited.

So what did you do?

You fought and took it.

Even so, even if you raised horses and sheep well on quality grass and nutrient-rich salt, one massive problem remained.

How is a person supposed to live on nothing but meat?

You can’t live on meat alone without rice!

That’s just cruel.

Maybe if you’d never known the taste of rice, fine—but the Mongols of today had already learned it through the history of the Mongol Empire and the Great Yuan Empire.

They’d already realized the taste of rice... and the blissful combination when rice met meat.

So then where would they get rice?

It didn’t grow in Mongolia. Wheat grew a little, but primitive ancient wheat was thin and patchy, with sparse grains that were pathetic at best.

Then what—if you don’t have it, you just buy it.

The neighboring country has rice overflowing, after all.

And here the real problem appeared.

Those bastards wouldn’t sell it.

How are you supposed to deal with that—begging and pleading and they still won’t sell?

Because to the Central Plains people, the Mongol barbarians were the enemies of the world.

The previous dynasty—the Yuan Dynasty—was the dynasty the Mongols established after conquering the Central Plains.

And weren’t the Central Plains people of that era basically colonial slaves, treated as worse than livestock?

So people rose up to avoid being slaves, drove out the Mongol barbarians, and built the country that now ruled the Central Plains.

Naturally, they wanted nothing to do with the Mongols.

Not only did they not want to associate—they stamped it into national law:

Trade with barbarians is forbidden.

So what now?

No rice?

Quit rice?

Give up rice entirely?

No.

Absolutely not.

If they won’t sell it?

Then you take it.

That was why the Mongol barbarians raided the Central Plains.

To eat rice.

Meaning: you might even say the Mongol barbarians were the original, primitive, ancient rice-eaters...

...But not every Mongol barbarian invaded the Central Plains for rice alone.

At a time when they were too busy fighting each other—

A young hero appeared, vowing to conquer the Central Plains, seize Beijing, reclaim the old land, and rebuild the Great Yuan–Great Mongol Empire.

Suh, the Erukt Clan’s great warrior, son of Chinggu.

North of Liaoning Province, on Mongol land—on the Jirem Plain.

From horizon to horizon stretched countless Mongol tents—gers—and the smoke of roasting meat rose in innumerable pillars.

They roasted meat and drank.

A feast of warriors, bold to the point of savagery.

On a hill, Suh looked down at the scene—then suddenly turned his head.

His milk-brother, Hurle—Hurle, son of Gonchog—was approaching, carrying a whole roasted sheep leg.

“Brother. With the greatest hunt of our people ahead, why are you sitting alone looking so miserable? Especially when you’re our young khan who must lead the great warriors of one tumen.”

Hurle laughed heartily.

But Suh’s expression wasn’t bright. If anything, it was closer to a certain kind of hatred.

“One tumen... so Borjigin and Uriankhai didn’t come in the end. I didn’t expect anything from the Oirat in the first place, but...”

A tumen was a Mongol military formation—ten thousand warriors.

Meaning: ten thousand warriors were gathered here.

And yet Suh showed no satisfaction at all.

Because he’d invited warriors from all across Mongolia, and only one tumen had come.

Or, depending on how you looked at it—

As many as ten thousand.

Because Suh was only a great warrior.

He was not someone qualified to be a great warrior who led great warriors.

The qualification to lead Mongolia’s great warriors was permitted only to the descendants of the Great Khan of the Four Seas—the so-called Golden Clan.

That was also one of the main reasons the Mongol Empire still remained “an empire” only in name, nothing more than barbarians calling themselves imperial.

Chinggis Khan had been a great khan.

But his children were not great.

A warrior was supposed to rise by his own hand and prove himself through great achievements—

But the descendants of Chinggis Khan, perhaps because their ancestor’s achievements were too overwhelming, suppressed other clans through petty and vile methods.

The Golden Clan.

Only the descendants of the greatest Great Khan could lead great warriors.

In other words:

No matter how outstanding and brave a man was—no matter if he was the strongest warrior alive—if he did not bear the Borjigin surname, the Golden Clan name, then he could never lead great warriors.

Not ability.

Bloodline.

Only bloodline granted the right to lead the Mongol Empire’s great warriors and rebuild the empire of the past.

And Suh, as the Erukt Clan’s great warrior, strictly speaking did not have the right to lead great warriors—

But still.

For the Mongols, being invited to a feast meant the same thing as being invited to raid the Central Plains together.

It was their unique invasion style.

Only the great warrior who hosted the raid knew when, where, and whom they would strike.

Then when the time came, the feast’s host would mount his horse and ride out first, and the invited warriors would follow—forming the raiding force into the Central Plains.

That was why, even if Central Plains forces obtained advance intelligence about a Mongol feast, it was difficult to prepare.

Maybe they would really just drink and disappear.

Maybe they would raid.

Maybe they would come by the near route.

Maybe they would take a huge detour...

So accepting a feast invitation was a kind of declaration:

I entrust all invasion strategy to the host, and I trust him.

A display of loyalty.

Of course, if the host wasn’t Golden Clan, then a great warrior invited by another great warrior had to share plans as equals.

But Suh didn’t share his plans.

Meaning: the ten thousand warriors gathered here had pledged loyalty to Suh—even though he was not Golden Clan.

“My friend. It’s not like no one came. Young warriors with conviction joined you, even breaking Mongolia’s old taboo. They came because of you.”

Even so, ten thousand warriors had gathered here.

There were more than sixty great-warrior tents alone—meaning that many great warriors had accepted Suh’s invitation despite him not being Golden Clan.

“They’re cowards who only oppress the people under the Golden Clan name. Even if they were here, they wouldn’t help.”

“Well. That’s true.”

Suh smiled bitterly.

Hurle threw an arm around Suh’s neck, pulled him into a shoulder-to-shoulder grip, lifted the roasted sheep leg high, and spoke.

“Then let’s go. The feast is dreary without its star. Come, brother. Let’s go—follow the Teaching of Blood.”

At that, a thin, eerie blue light flared in Suh’s eyes.

“Yes. Everything for the Teaching of Blood.”