Can't a princess ascend the throne?

Chapter 282 Sachi Khan
The young prince, however, remained remarkably calm and collected. He immediately ordered his guards to shoot the surviving shepherds one by one. Although the eldest prince, Murden, felt some reluctance, he knew this was the only effective way to eradicate the plague, and therefore did not stop them.

After tossing the corpses far away in an open area, the two princes, their faces grim, led their guards back to their tent. They remained silent the entire way. Even with their hearts as firm as rocks, the thought of personally shooting their own people was still beyond their comprehension. But given the circumstances, if they hadn't killed them on the spot, the disease would have spread to the surrounding pastures, and the number of victims would have been far greater than that.

Even after meeting the Great Khan, the two were still somewhat unsettled, and the Khan was not very happy.

"My sons, you have arrived. Why do you not seem happy? Do you also wish to go to the capital of Dajing with the delegation?"

Multon gave a hearty laugh and waved his hand dismissively.

"I do want to go, but not through peace talks. I want to trample the capital on horseback and make the Great Jing Emperor dance for his father!"

"Hahaha--"

Sachi Khan, who was not in a very good mood to begin with, burst into laughter. He knew, of course, that his eldest son was trying to amuse him, but that didn't stop him from enjoying hearing such words.

“My son, I’m glad to hear you say that; it shows your blood is still boiling. Although the Han people are treacherous and cunning, they have a saying that’s quite true: ‘A wise man submits to circumstances.’ Our grasslands are about to enter the harsh winter, so let’s use the pretext of peace talks to give the Great Jing Emperor a good beating before then. The Han people are the most hypocritical; if there’s a pretext for peace talks, they’ll definitely treat us well. They might even send us some grain, after all, we’re not going there empty-handed.”

The Khan was deeply troubled by this. Why was it that the weak, sheep-like Han people possessed such fertile land, while they, the naturally powerful steppe people, could only live on the grasslands? Of course, this wasn't to say the grasslands were bad; they were home to the finest horses, the gentlest cattle and sheep, and the most lovable people. But the grasslands weren't suitable for growing grain, and the climate wasn't as favorable as that of the Central Plains.

If we could conquer that vast land of the Central Plains, wouldn't we have both? That would be the greatest achievement a Khan could attain!

Sachi Khan was in a bad mood and naturally noticed that his sons were not in high spirits. After thinking for a moment, he quietly comforted them.

"When the delegation returns, you two can choose what they bring back first. Although the Han people are weak, their craftsmanship is first-rate."

Murden's thoughts were not on the mission that had not yet returned. He recounted in detail what had just happened, with great sorrow.

Upon hearing this, the Khan's expression changed, and his previous cheerful and composed demeanor vanished.

"How could this be? The weather is already getting cooler, how can there still be an epidemic? Have the high shamans gone to check?"

“My son rushed back to report, but hasn’t informed the High Priest yet. The plague seems to be very serious. Not only have large numbers of cattle and sheep died, but even the herders have been infected, with large patches of rashes and red pox on their bodies, and most of them have already died. If the remaining herders are not killed on the spot, they may endanger the other people once they start moving around.”

Sachi Khan shifted, his expression slightly uneasy.

"You two didn't go near those sick herders, did you?"

Before Murdon could react, Namtso shook his head, his smile gentle and persuasive.

“Those herders dared not approach me and my elder brother. They themselves knew that they wouldn’t live long with that disease, so why burden others?”

"That's good! You two sons are the bravest of all, and I would feel terrible if either of them were injured. My children, what we need to do now is to minimize all the losses as quickly as possible. The Great Shaman took too long to save people, and it was impossible to stop him. Now we can only shoot all the infected cattle, sheep, horses and herdsmen! Then all we can do is pray for the mercy of the Eternal Heaven."

Murden wanted to say something more, but Namtso quietly tugged at him, forcing him to shut up, though his expression was rather unpleasant. After the two bid farewell to their father and left the tent, the eldest prince glared fiercely at his younger brother.

"Don't tell me you just blindly obey Father Khan's orders! Don't you know whether the Great Shaman's methods are even effective?! Of those they saved, maybe two out of ten will survive. Besides, those infected with the plague are all grassland people. Let's not even talk about the severe cases; what about the mild cases? What we need to do now is rush to Dajing and force them to hand over their best doctors so they can treat them properly. That's better than doing nothing!"

Namtso wasn't surprised by this; his elder brother was always hot-tempered. Once the other person had finally calmed down, he explained expressionlessly.

"Do you think I don't know? If we rush to Dajing now and force them to hand over their doctors, wouldn't that be clearly telling them that our grasslands are infected with a plague? Do you think the relationship between our two countries is very good? I'm afraid that the first thing they'll do when they hear this news won't be to help treat the disease, but to take the opportunity to head north! At that time, it won't just be a matter of losing a group of people, but the destruction of our country!"

"..."

After calming down, Namtso also realized the problem. But when he thought of those eyes that were still filled with pain as they faced death, he couldn't bear it.

"So, are we just going to do nothing? Do you know how many people will die if we follow Father Khan's method? We already don't have as many people as the Han Chinese. If we keep dying like this, we won't even have to wait for the Han Chinese to attack us before we're completely wiped out!"

"...Let's listen to Father Khan for now. He is the wisest man on this grassland."

Murdon had nothing to say to him and stormed off. Namtso felt somewhat helpless. Seeing that his elder brother had already gone far away, he looked back at the still solemn and dignified tent, his eyes filled with complicated emotions, before catching up with the eldest prince.

Inside the large tent, Khan Saqi remained seated, his eyes seemingly piercing through the tent to gaze upon the distant and vast Central Plains. For countless years, the Central Plains had been an ideal land of gold in the hearts of the steppe people, indeed fertile and rich. Yet, for thousands of years, no Khan had ever led the steppe to truly conquer that land.

He was getting old, and seeing his sons growing up so fast made him realize that he was getting older every day.

I fear that if this continues, he will die of old age on this land, never to realize his grand ambitions. Slowly rising to his feet, Sachi Khan swayed slightly.

Sigh, I'm getting old, and my heart has softened.

How could that be? His feet still need to stand on the dragon throne in the Great Jing Imperial Palace, overlooking the beautiful and enchanting land.

"Great Shaman, how much longer do I have?"

A harsh, unpleasant voice rang out from the dark corner.

"Less than a year."

"It hasn't even been a year..."

After a brief moment of reflection, Sachi Khan's eyes regained their firmness and sharpness, and he once again resembled a majestic and powerful lion.

"Then I'll have to work even harder."

(End of this chapter)