The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

Capital.

Central Military Command.

As night fell, the main hall of the mansion was brightly lit, with candles and lamps illuminating the vast hall as if it were daytime.

Chen Wang, dressed in a bright red robe with gold cloud patterns draped over his shoulders, casually leaned back in the large chair at the head of the table.

He rested one hand on the armrest and the other on his knee, looking down at the hall below.

Inside the hall, all the Taijis from various tribes of Southern Mongolia, led by Gumu, the Taiji of the Tumed tribe, knelt obediently on the ground.

They removed their swords and hats, bowing their heads to the ground in utmost humility.

"Taiji Gumu of the Tumed tribe pays respects to His Highness the Marquis of Jingnan."

Gu Mu’s voice rang out in the silent hall, filled with obvious reverence.

As Gumu spoke, the group of Taijis behind him followed suit and paid their respects in unison, their voices echoing faintly in the empty hall.

“Taiji Gumu of the Tumed tribe pays his respects to the Marquis of Jingnan.”

The Taijis of the various tribes of Southern Mongolia behind him also paid homage in unison with Gumu.

The sounds of greetings, albeit in varying order, echoed slowly in the empty hall.

Chen Wang's gaze slowly swept over the Taijis of the various tribes of Southern Mongolia in the hall, but he did not speak, only watching them silently.

The hall fell into an even deeper silence, with only the occasional crackling of charcoal burning in the copper basin in the corner making the silence all the more palpable.

Time passes little by little.

The Mongol Taijis kneeling on the ground began to tremble uncontrollably.

This trembling did not stem entirely from inner fear, but rather from maintaining this humble kneeling posture for too long.

They are used to living a life of luxury and have never suffered such a long period of hardship.

The tingling, numbness, and stinging pain coming from their knees and lower back caused their bodies to send out signals that they could hardly contain themselves.

however.

The calm yet extremely oppressive gaze from the head of the table still loomed over them, and everyone knew that the person sitting at the head of the table was the Marquis of the Ming Dynasty.

It was outside Jining City that the commander of tens of thousands of Qing troops was decisively defeated.

That imposing aura, forged amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, needs no words.

They had already witnessed the Jingnan Army's formidable military might in Jining.

The landscape of 50,000 bloodied heads in the eastern suburbs of Jining has deeply etched fear into their very bones.

In the square in front of Chengtian Gate in the capital of the Ming Dynasty, the corpses of hundreds of Qing generals and princes still lay scattered, and they all saw it.

The captured Qing army officers were subjected to extreme torture, and the horrific scene of being sliced ​​into a thousand pieces still sends chills down their spines whenever they think about it.

Everyone's forehead was pressed against the cold ground, and they unconsciously slowed their breathing, afraid that the slightest sound would break the suffocating silence and bring about unpredictable consequences.

They didn't know how much time had passed, but just as the group of Mongolian Taijis felt their hands and feet going numb, and their consciousness began to blur due to the long period of torment, and they were about to give up completely.

"No gift."

Chen Wang's voice finally rang out in the hall.

These two simple words were like heavenly music to the kneeling crowd.

Everyone felt a great weight lifted off their shoulders, but they still remembered the instructions given by the master of ceremonies before the audience.

Despite the tingling and aching pain coursing through their limbs, their movements were slightly stiff and slow, yet they maintained a respectful demeanor.
"Thank you, Marquis of Jingnan."

The uneven voices rang out again, completely lacking the deep resonance of the previous audience.

Gumu and the other Mongol Taijis raised their heads and straightened their bodies. The discomfort from kneeling for so long made them all sway slightly.

The most disheveled was a rather obese Mongolian Taiji. His face was covered in cold sweat, and after barely managing to straighten up, he swayed and fell to the ground.

This sudden turn of events added to the already tense atmosphere, and the people next to the Taiji instinctively tried to reach out to help him, but their outstretched hands froze in mid-air.

They all noticed the coldness in Chen Wang's eyes, who was sitting at the head of the table.

The outstretched hand was pulled back.

The obese Mongolian Taiji, who had been lying on the ground, struggled several times before finally sitting up again. He knelt on the ground, head bowed, not daring to meet Chen Wang's gaze.

All the Mongol Taijis, including Gumu, also bowed their heads and knelt quietly on the ground.

“Gumu”.

Chen Wang did not wait any longer and called out Gu Mu's name directly.

"exist."

Gu Mu's heart skipped a beat, and he dared not be negligent in the slightest, so he quickly responded.

He lowered his head even further, waiting for the next question.

He was not one of those illiterate herders who spent their days herding livestock.

Gu Mu has read books, many books.

He knew perfectly well what would happen once the dynasties in the Central Plains rose to prominence again.

The dynasties of the Central Plains.

They are the most vengeful.

They will always remember the humiliation and border troubles brought by their former powerful enemies.

In their decline, they would hold fast to the frontier and endure hardship.

But once they regain their former glory, they will surely raise an army to avenge their defeat.

The establishment of the Ming Dynasty proved this point.

Their founding emperor, Zhu Yuanzhang, was still not satisfied after recovering the nine provinces and continued to launch northern expeditions.

From the third year of the Hongwu reign to the twenty-ninth year, the Ming army launched thirteen large-scale northern expeditions.

After Zhu Yuanzhang's death, Zhu Di launched five more large-scale northern expeditions.

All of these events are recorded in history books, written clearly in black and white.

And Chen Wang.

Gu Mu felt that Chen Wang was even more terrifying than Zhu Yuanzhang, who founded the Ming Dynasty.

Zhu Yuanzhang was not as ruthless as Chen Wang.

Gu Mu had learned about the whereabouts of the captured Qing soldiers.

Those Qing soldiers who were captured would be sent to the south.

In the dimly lit mines throughout the southern lands, their lives as slaves continued until their very death.

Gu Mu also remembered clearly the fate of those Qing army generals outside Chengtian Gate.

The bloody scene instilled in Gu Mu an even greater fear of Chen Wang.

From the head of the table, Chen Wang's calm voice came again.

"Are you the Taiji of the Tumet tribe now?"

"Villain..."

Gumu wanted to explain that he was not a Taiji of the Tumed, but merely the leader of the Eastern Tumed tribe.

But Gu Mu swallowed the words back down his throat.

"I am Taiji of the Tumed tribe."

Chen Wang leaned forward slightly, the cool candlelight swirling on his crimson python robe.

“I remember that your father was Omubuchuhuer, the grandson of Xin'ai Huangtaiji, the eldest son of Altan Khan Borjigin Anda.”

Gu Mu bowed slightly, placed his right hand on his chest, and lowered his head to answer respectfully.

"The Marquis's eyes are sharper than those of an eagle soaring over the grasslands, enough to see clearly for thousands of miles. Altan Khan is my great-great-grandfather."

Chen Wang tapped the armrest lightly with his fingertips and continued speaking.

"In the fourth year of the Longqing reign, seventy-three years ago, your great-grandfather Altan Khan sought tribute and reached a peace agreement with our Great Ming. He was granted the title of Prince Shunyi by the Emperor of our Great Ming, and was given a gilded jade seal, which was to be inherited by his descendants. He was to serve as a permanent bulwark for the border regions and to open eleven border towns for trade."

“Your great-grandfather once said that the Emperor had fortunately bestowed upon me the title of King, granting me eternal rule in the North, and that no tribe would dare to cause trouble… He has received such great favor from the court, how could he possibly betray it?”

Gu Mu's lowered head trembled slightly, and the candlelight cast a flickering shadow on his taut profile.

"Seventy-three years have passed, the sun and moon have risen and set, time has passed, and the world has changed."

Chen Wang's voice was calm yet sharp.

"The glory of the Tumed tribe is now history. The Chahar tribe has once again become the overlord of the grasslands. During the Chongzhen era, the overlord who ruled the entire grasslands became Ligdan Khan." "The Shunyi King's Seal was also lost in the war, and the pastures controlled by the Tumed tribe are no longer as vast as before."

The candlelight flickered slowly on the gold threads of Chen Wang's python robe.

"The smoke signals on the grassland rise and fall, fall and rise again."

"Lindan Khan died in Qinghai. His son Ejei surrendered with the Imperial Seal of the State and submitted to the Later Jin. From then on, all the Mongol tribes were subjects of the Qing Dynasty."

Chen Wang stared at Gu Mu, who was kneeling below him, and raised his hand.

"Keep your head up."

Gu Mu slowly raised his head, and the candlelight finally illuminated his entire face.

His face was stiff, still showing some fear, but deep within his eyes, a flame flickered faintly.

He had never met his great-great-grandfather; by the time he was born, the Tumed tribe had already declined.

But he would always remember his father, whose eyes, though always weary, would gleam with an unusual light, and whose weathered face would show an almost devout reverence.

When his great-grandfather was alive, his Tumed tribe ruled the entire southern part of the Gobi Desert, with its military might extending deep into the northern desert and its horses trampling across Qinghai. The powerful Chahar tribe of today is nothing but a defeated foe of theirs, and can only survive by relying on the Tumed tribe.

Chen Wang watched Gu Mu's expression change, observing the flickering flame in his eyes gradually grow brighter.

"Have you ever thought about restoring the glory of the Tumed tribe when Altan Khan was still alive?"

"Even……"

"Take it a step further..."

Gu Mu's breathing gradually became rapid, and his chest began to rise and fall.

Gu Mu gripped the robe on his knees tightly with both hands. He was not a fool, never had been.

After discovering that the Qing army was gradually losing ground inside the Great Wall, he began to contact the Taiji of various tribes to discuss countermeasures.

When the Jingnan Army's envoy arrived at his camp, he accepted the olive branch extended to him without hesitation.

After the Battle of Jining.

They were disarmed, and his warhorse was driven into the high walls of the capital.

The Jingnan army intended to slaughter them all; they had absolutely no ability to resist.

He repeatedly requested to return to southern Mongolia, but all of these requests were ignored.

Gumu had always been filled with fear and apprehension.

Their lives and deaths are not in their own hands, nor is their fate determined by them.

The feeling of being at the mercy of others is not pleasant.

However, Gumu was able to endure all of this.

Because in southern Mongolia, under the rule of the Qing Dynasty, their lives were not easy either.

They were both treated as prey, but only under the Qing court's swords.

Gumu is ready.

The defeated side should act like the defeated side.

The Jingnan army won.

The Qing army was defeated, and so were they.

Gu Mu could accept that the Jingnan Army wanted to settle scores with them.

All he wanted was to save his own life, preserve his Zuo Tumote tribe, and return to the grasslands.

He was willing to pay a heavy price, as long as it allowed him to return to Mo Nan.

Gumu was prepared to pay the price.

But Gu Mu never thought of that.

Chen Wang will make a promise.

He would offer a promise that was simply too difficult for him to refuse...

To restore the former glory of the Tumed tribe... or even... go a step further...

Gu Mu's mind was in turmoil, and his thoughts were in complete chaos.

"Now, the Qing Dynasty is nothing more than a candle in the wind, and the landscape on the grasslands has undergone earth-shattering changes."

Chen Wang spoke calmly, but to Gu Mu, it sounded like the whisper of a ghost, causing Gu Mu's ambitions to swell and his already chaotic mind to become even more confused.

"As long as you... are willing..."

"I can petition the court to recast the seal of the Prince of Shunyi and reopen eleven border trade sites."

Gu Mu's mind raced as he pondered.

What exactly does Chen Wang want?
On the northern grasslands.

He needs a spokesperson, a suitable spokesperson, a loyal... spokesperson...

This spokesperson can leverage the influence of the Jingnan Army to obtain everything he desires.

That was the promise Chen Wang made to him.

Gu Mu suddenly felt a sense of unease.

He knew that as long as he nodded, it would be all it took.

The now extremely weak Tumed tribe will, with the help of the Jingnan Army, leap to become the strongest and most powerful tribe in the entire grassland.

With the powerful Jingnan Army as their backing, all the tribes in southern Mongolia, and even the Western Regions and Qinghai, will fall to their military might.

With Chen Wang's support, he could easily sweep away all opposing forces among the remaining followers within the pass.

He thought of the further implications in Chen Wang's words...

Gu Mu's breathing became increasingly rapid.

Chen Wang's words were quite explicit.

As long as he is willing to submit and take back the title of Prince Shunyi.

The Tumed will rise again and become the most powerful regime in the entire grassland.

Going a step further...

Going a step further...

These four short words kept echoing in Gu Mu's mind.

It's not just about restoring past glory.

His great-grandfather was also called Khan.

However, the supreme ruler of the grasslands, the Great Khan of the Mongols, remained the leader of the Chahar tribe.

And Chen Wang's promise.

The goal was to make the Tumed people the true overlords of the grasslands under his rule, completely replacing the Chahar tribe and becoming the Great Khan of all Mongolia.

The Great Khan of all Mongolia...

This was something Gu Mu had never dared to imagine in his entire life...

But these things he had never imagined, dreams that his great-grandfather had pursued his whole life but could never achieve, were now right before his eyes.

this moment.

Gumu seemed to see the Tumed tribe's golden tent standing tall on the grassland again, and the heroic figures of the tribe's sons and daughters galloping on horseback.

only……

Gu Mu's eyes cleared up a bit.

The acquisition of all things.

There will always be a corresponding price to pay.

He became the Great Khan, revered by all of Mongolia.

This prospect is truly fascinating.

but.

cost……

What could it be? (End of Chapter)