The Golden Family, rising from the Western Regions

Chapter 362 The Humiliation of the Liao Dynasty, Atonement Before the Tomb

"Woooooooo~"

The melodious sound of bugles echoed across the desolate Gobi Desert as 50,000 Khwarazmian troops approached Samarkand like a dark cloud.

The tan tents stretched for dozens of miles, their crescent-shaped flags fluttering in the wind.

Everywhere you look, there are Persians with headscarves and veils, shouting and laughing, as if they are tourists or business people.

Originally, Muhammad only sent Timur Myri with 20,000 troops to support the Liao Dynasty, just to make a show of it.

However, upon learning that 10,000 elite troops of the Western Karakhanid Khanate had been annihilated by the Northern Frontier Army, he immediately mobilized 30,000 troops to support the front line and personally led the army on an eastern expedition.

Along the way, the Khwarazmian army advanced with unstoppable momentum. Cities of the Western Karakhanid Khanate either surrendered or were breached after only a little resistance. In just a few dozen days, they reached the outskirts of Samarkand.

Inside the central command tent, woolen carpets covered the floor, and incense burned in a copper brazier, dispelling the chill of the grassland.

Muhammad sat on the cushion at the head of the table. He was nearly forty years old, with a robust build and dark brown curly hair tied back with a gold band.

He had a thick beard beneath his high, straight nose, sharp eyes like an eagle, and a silk robe embroidered with intricate Persian patterns. Every gesture he made exuded the majesty of a sultan.

Sitting next to him was Zhalandin, who was only twenty years old. His face inherited his mother's gentleness, but he had a composure that did not match his age.

He had no beard, fair skin, and a calm yet sharp gaze. His light leather armor accentuated his upright posture, and his occasional glances outside the tent were filled with a thirst for military glory.

"Samarkand is right in front of us."

Mahakala raised his silver cup, took a sip of wine, and said with a mocking tone, "That fool Osman kept shouting about rebuilding the Karakhanid Dynasty, and what happened?"

"Ten thousand elite troops died at the hands of the northern border people, and even their own capital has to rely on the Liao people for protection. They are truly ambitious but incompetent."

Timur Merri laughed heartily and continued, "The Sultan is right."

"The Ottomans couldn't even muster enough men, yet they thought they could contend with us?"

“Samarkand is within our grasp. I am willing to be the vanguard and will surely take it down within three days.”

Although Samarkand is the largest city in Central Asia with a population of 600,000, the city is in great chaos.

The Persians, Ghurs, Uyghurs, Karluks, and Liao people all had their own territories and influence.

These people were all harboring their own agendas and constantly fighting amongst themselves. Moreover, because of the prosperity of Samarkand's commerce, its military preparedness had deteriorated, and the soldiers' scimitars were almost rusted, making them practically ineffective in combat.

More importantly, with the Western Karakhanid Khanate on the verge of collapse and Khwarazm gaining unstoppable momentum, it is about to become the master of this great city.

Therefore, many nobles in the city have sent people to contact Muhammad.

Whenever Khwarazm attacked the city, they would open the city gates and act as inside agents.

Otherwise, with the walls of Samarkand, it might not have been breached in three days, let alone thirty.

Muhammad put down his silver cup, a glint of ambition in his eyes: "Once we take Samarkand, we'll move our capital here."

"Let the Liao people and the Northern Frontier people fight like dogs in the north, and it would be best if they both suffered heavy losses."

"At that time, who in the world will be able to stop our Khwarezm?"

He stood up, walked to the tent, looked in the direction of Samarkand, and said in an increasingly impassioned voice: "Once we have taken over the Liao territory, we will launch an eastern expedition."

“I have heard that the East is full of gold, with cattle, sheep and grain piled up like mountains, and even gold can be panned from the rivers. Such wealth should belong to the people of God.”

A fire also ignited in Zhalandin's eyes, and he bowed, saying, "Father is wise."

"When the time comes, your son is willing to lead the army to take the lead, conquer the eastern lands, and let the flag of Khwarazm fly all over the east."

The people inside the tent echoed each other, creating a lively atmosphere, as if Samarkand was already within their grasp and the grand plan for the eastern expedition was just around the corner.

Just then, a guard lifted the curtain and entered, bowing and reporting: "Great Sultan, an envoy from Samarkand has arrived."

Muhammad paused for a moment, then burst into laughter: "Oh? It's that fool Ottoman who's come to surrender?"

He stroked his beard, his tone contemptuous: "If he knows what's good for him, I, the Sultan, might reward him with a small position, so that he won't die in poverty and destitution in his later years."

"Return to Your Majesty."

The guard quickly replied, "They are not from the Western Karakhanid Khanate, but from the Liao Dynasty."

"A Liao person?"

Muhammad's laughter stopped abruptly. He paused for a moment, his eyes filled with mockery: "Even the arrogant Liao people have a day when they bow their heads?"

He waved his hand and said, "Let him in. This Sultan wants to see what tricks the Liao people are up to."

Shortly afterward, the tent flap was lifted, and an envoy dressed in Liao Dynasty official robes walked in.

He was about thirty years old. Facing the intimidating gazes of the Khwarazmian generals, he remained calm and fearless, his back still straight.

Holding a scroll aloft with one hand, he calmly swept his gaze over the people in the tent: "Xiao Hetu, envoy of the Great Liao, greets His Majesty the Sultan of Khwarazm."

Muhammad leaned back on the cushion, his fingers tapping casually on his knees, his tone indifferent: "The Liao envoy is pleading for Samarkand?"

"Or do you want me, the Sultan, to withdraw my troops and help you fend off the northern barbarians?"

Xiao Hetu raised his head, his voice clear and powerful: "Your Majesty the Sultan, I have come today to 'make peace'."

Mahamati laughed.

As expected, the Liao people and the people of the northern frontier were engaged in fierce fighting in the north and had no time to deal with the situation in Samarkand.

Therefore, the only option was to negotiate and coerce or entice Khwarazm to withdraw its troops.

Unfortunately, Khwarazm was no longer the small country it once was, and Samarkand held extremely important strategic significance in Muhammad's plans.

No matter what Xiao Hetu says today, the Khwarazmian army will not retreat.

However, Muhammad did not expect that Xiaohetu's next words would shock him.

"In the Battle of Chaqi, our Great Liao... was defeated."

"Ok?"

"Failed?"

Muhammad was initially stunned, but after realizing what was happening, he suddenly sat up straight, his eyes filled with disbelief, and exclaimed in horror, "Your army of 100,000 guards Chaqi couldn't even stop the rabble of the northern people?"

"They are not a mob."

Xiao Hetu took a deep breath and slowly said, "The Chaqi North Pass was breached in a single day, General Yelü Xiuduo was killed in battle, and nearly half of the Liao army was either killed or routed..."

"Emperor Jur Khan of the Great Liao Dynasty has also fallen into the hands of the people of the Northern Frontier."

"what?"

A collective gasp filled the tent.

Timur Merri suddenly stood up, his beard trembling: "Jur Khan has been captured? That northerner has such great abilities?"

Zhalandin frowned, his previously calm eyes now showing a hint of seriousness.

Although he was young, he knew the fighting strength of the Liao army under Yelü Zhilugu. Even the emperor of a country had been captured. The strength of the people of the northern frontier was far more terrifying than they had imagined.

Muhammad's face darkened completely, his fingers clenching the hem of his silk robe: "Continue."

"The northern army is now marching towards Samarkand."

Xiao Hetu continued, "My Prince Yelü Hongxin of the Great Liao Dynasty has been supported by the people of Samarkand and has succeeded to the throne of Jur Khan."

"I have come today to discuss with His Majesty the Sultan the possibility of joining forces to resist the north."

If the news of Chaqi's defeat and Yelü Zhilugu's capture were to reach Muhammad, it would undoubtedly be a huge blow to the prestige and influence of the Liao Dynasty.

However, there was no other way. In order to highlight the threat from the northern frontier and persuade Khwarazm to stop the war and join forces to resist the north, Yelü Hongxin had to expose his own weaknesses.

Moreover, even if Xiao Hetu didn't say anything, it wouldn't be long before the nobles in Samarkand would secretly reveal this news to Muhammad.

He looked at Muhammad, his tone earnest: "The Karakhanid Khanate had 10,000 elite troops, but they were wiped out in a single battle against the people of the northern frontier."

"The Sultan knows better about the fighting strength of our Liao army, but in the Battle of Chachi, we are still no match for the people of the northern frontier."

"Nowadays, neither the Liao Dynasty nor Khwarazm can stop the iron hooves of the northern frontier on their own."

"Only by joining forces can we defend Samarkand."

"Otherwise, once Samarkand falls, the next target of the northern peoples will be Khwarezm."

"We are like lips and teeth, if one of us is gone, the other will be too."

Hearing Xiao Hetu's words, it took Mohammad a while to process the news.

His expression then changed dramatically, which was quite remarkable.

"Asshole."

Muhammad slammed his hand on the table, smashing the silver cup to the ground and spilling wine everywhere.

"Yelü Zhilugu is a useless, stupid idiot."

Muhammad was waiting for Yelü Zhilugu and the people of the northern frontier to fight to the death so that he could take the opportunity to seize Samarkand.

Unexpectedly, Yelü Zhilugu became a prisoner.

He grew angrier the more he thought about it, and his voice rose several decibels: "You Khitans are truly useless."

"You once dominated the world by relying on the legacy of your ancestors, but now you can't even hold back the northern frontier. How dare you come to talk to this Sultan about 'joining forces'?"

Xiao Hetu did not refute, but simply said quietly, "His Majesty the Sultan may complain about my Great Liao, but he cannot deny the threat posed by the people of the Northern Frontier."

“If you launch a full-scale attack on Samarkand now, even with the help of nobles within the city, it will take time to capture the city.”

“But the Northern Frontier army will arrive soon. At that time, you will be attacked from both sides, and Samarkand may not be able to hold out. Instead, the Northern Frontier people will reap the benefits.”

Muhammad's anger was gradually suppressed by calm.

He looked at Zhalandin and saw his son nod slightly. He then glanced at the generals in the tent and noticed that they all looked wary.

Yes, Khwarezm is still rising in strength. If it were to fight the people of the northern frontier head-on, even if it won, it would be severely weakened, not to mention that it might not even be able to win.

He clenched his fists, feeling frustrated: it was so close.

In just a few more days, Samarkand would be ours, but the people from northern Xinjiang arrived so quickly.

"You may go down first and wait in the side tent."

Mahama waved his hand, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Xiao Hetu bowed and then turned to leave the main tent.

As soon as the tent flap closed, Zhalandin spoke up, "Father, the Liao envoy is right, the people of the Northern Frontier are a big problem."

"If we start a war with the Liao Kingdom now, we'll be finished once the people from the northern frontier arrive."

Timur Merri also nodded in agreement: "Your Majesty the Sultan, Samarkand may be desirable, but we cannot risk the future of Khwarazm."

"The people of the northern frontier were able to destroy the Liao army and kill the elite troops of the Western Karakhanid Khanate. We may not be able to stop them."

"Why not join forces with the Liao Kingdom first, and after we drive back the people of the northern frontier, we can turn around and deal with Samarkand?"

"Take down Samarkand?"

Muhammad sneered, a glint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes: "Samarkand has always been an inseparable part of Khwarazmian territory."

"Once we drive back the people of the northern frontier, not only Samarkand, but even the remaining forces of the Liao Kingdom will have to listen to us."

"Yelü Hongxin?"

"He's just a seventeen-year-old kid, does he even deserve to be Ju'er Khan?"

The generals echoed, "Your Majesty is wise. Without Yelü Zhilugu, the Liao Kingdom is now a disorganized mess. We can take advantage of this opportunity to control them."

Muhammad discussed the matter with his generals and officials for a while before walking to the tent and looking in the direction of Samarkand. He said firmly, "Summon the Liao envoy in and negotiate with him."

“We can join forces, but the Liao Kingdom can no longer be the suzerain state of Khwarazm. On the contrary, the Liao Kingdom must become a vassal state of Khwarazm.” He paused and added, “Every year, the Liao Kingdom must pay us tribute of three thousand fine horses and five thousand bolts of silk, and also send hostages to the capital of Khwarazm.”

"The Liao army in Samarkand will be under our command. Half of the cities captured by the Liao army will belong to Khwarazm. All the rules that the Liao people used to treat us must be returned to them today."

Soon, Xiao Hetu entered the main tent again.

When he heard the conditions proposed by Muhammad, his face turned deathly pale, but he still suppressed his anger and asked, "Your Majesty the Sultan, this is not an 'alliance,' this is for my Great Liao to submit."

"Either submit, or wait to be destroyed by the people of the Northern Frontier."

Muhammad leaned back on the cushion, his tone leaving no room for doubt: “Go back and tell Yelü Hongxin that if he does not agree within three days, this Sultan will first destroy Samarkand, and then talk to the people of the northern frontier about ‘cooperation’.”

Xiao Hetu clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He knew that Muhammad was telling the truth.

Now that the Liao Kingdom is on the verge of collapse, there is absolutely no room for negotiation.

He took a deep breath and slowly said, "I will convey the Sultan's terms to the Great Liao Khan, Jur Khan."

After speaking, he bowed and turned to walk out of the tent. His figure looked particularly lonely in the cold wind outside the tent.

As Muhammad watched his retreating figure, a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips: "Yelü Zhilugu, the humiliation you inflicted on this Sultan back then, today, will be repaid by your son."

The generals inside the tent raised their cups, as if they could already see Khwarazm's future domination of Central Asia, but no one noticed that the sound of the hooves of the northern cavalry could be faintly heard in the wind outside the tent.

……

Meanwhile, in the Qin army camp.

Yelü Zhilugu's carriage was driven slowly into the military camp by soldiers from the northern frontier.

The yellow sun and moon battle flags fluttered in the sky above the camp, carrying with them a fierce and rugged atmosphere.

Along the roadside, soldiers from the northern frontier walked by with their bare, bronze-colored shoulders, their muscles still bearing unhealed scars.

A curved sword hung at his waist, his eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and he occasionally glanced at the carriage with undisguised ferocity.

From the distant tents, the faint sounds of women sobbing and crying could be heard, mingling with the shouts of soldiers, making the atmosphere in the carriage even more oppressive.

Hunhu gripped his mother Timur Khanni's hand tightly, his body trembling uncontrollably.

She secretly lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and saw those elite soldiers from the northern frontier. Recalling the massacre on the grasslands, tears welled up in her eyes.

Yelü Zhilugu kept his eyes closed and remained silent, seemingly indifferent to everything around him.

He only perked up when a row of dark cannons came into view, a complex glint in his eyes.

The cannons were all black, with large muzzles, and were neatly arranged on the east side of the camp, with traces of gunpowder still remaining on their bodies.

These very things breached the walls of Husi Ordos back then, and now they have leveled the Chachi Pass.

Over the years, Yelü Zhilugu has sent spies into the northern frontier countless times in an attempt to uncover the secrets of the cannons.

However, the Qin state classified it as a top secret, and the craftsmen were kept in secluded workshops, where even a single piece of cannon slag could not escape.

Now, he has finally seen these "weapons of destruction" up close, but he has become a prisoner of the people of the northern frontier.

He reached out, seemingly wanting to touch the cold cannon barrel, but was stopped by the soldiers. He could only dejectedly withdraw his hand, his eyes filled with resentment and despair.

"Please, Emperor of Liao."

"The king is just ahead."

The soldier said coldly, pulling Yelü Zhilugu off the carriage.

Hunhu and Timur Khan were also led out of the carriage and followed the soldiers toward the golden tent in the center of the camp.

After walking only a few steps, I heard a "whooshing" sound, the sound of a blade cutting through the air, dull and powerful.

Looking up, in the open space outside the golden tent, a tall man was practicing swordsmanship with his upper body bare.

His bronze skin gleamed in the sunlight, and his muscles taut and stretched with each swing of his sword, each strike carrying the force of thunder, as if he were about to cleave the air in two.

He was as fierce and valiant as a beast poised to pounce.

Over the years, although Li Xiao rarely went to the battlefield himself, he never neglected to hone his skills in killing enemies. After all, in this chaotic world, only the sword in his hand can protect the land beneath his feet.

Hunhu stared, somewhat stunned. She had never seen such a powerful man before. His undisguised wildness and strength made her subconsciously tighten her grip on her mother's hand.

Timur Khan also held his breath, his eyes filled with apprehension.

No wonder such a person was able to overthrow the rule of the Liao Dynasty.

"Your Majesty, Yelü Zhilugu has arrived." A guard quickly walked to the edge of the open space and reported with his hand on his chest.

Li Xiao abruptly withdrew the knife from his hand, turned around, and sweat slid down his neck, dripping onto the scar on his chest.

Those are marks left from when I fought alongside Xiao Simo in my early years.

He casually picked up a black shirt hanging on a nearby rack, draped it loosely over his shoulders without buttoning it, revealing his muscular chest. His sharp, eagle-like eyes swept over Yelü Zhilugu and his entourage.

"Yelü Zhilugu".

Li Xiao spoke, his voice slightly hoarse from practicing swordsmanship, yet still steady and powerful: "We've been fighting for so many years, and this is the first time we've met."

Yelü Zhilugu raised his head and looked at Li Xiao, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

The man before him was even more intimidating than the spy had told him. The arrogance that emanated from his very bones was not built on power, but on victory after victory.

A self-deprecating smile curled at the corner of his lips, his voice hoarse: "Li Xiao, you win. Do with me as you please."

Now he is a prisoner, too lazy to even use the title "King of Qin," and only a dejected and hopeless attitude remains.

"kill you?"

Li Xiao sneered, walked up to Yelü Zhilugu, and said with a sharp look in his eyes: "Killing you would be too easy for you."

"Back then, in order to maintain the rule of the Liao Kingdom and to suppress my brother, how many people in the northern frontier did you harm? How many families were displaced?"

Yelü Zhilugu raised his head, a stubborn glint in his eyes: "The victor is king, the loser is villain. Back then, Xiao Simo wanted to rebel against me, so I killed his men. What's wrong with that?"

"Now that you've won, you don't need to make up these excuses to do whatever you want with me."

Li Xiao shook his head, his tone carrying a hint of arrogance: "I, Li Xiao, never need an excuse to do things."

"I want you to watch as I transform the land of Liao into the territory of Qin."

"Watch how I bring peace and stability to the people of Qin, and watch as the 'Great Liao' that you have dedicated your life to protecting disappears completely from this land."

He paused, then added, "As for you, I won't kill you."

“I will take you to Yinshan and make you kneel before your brother’s grave to atone for your sins.”

"This is my promise to my brother."

Yelü Zhilugu shuddered, his face turning even paler.

He was afraid of dying, and he was also afraid of losing to Xiao Simo.

Although Xiao Simo had long since died, he still lost to him.

All his life's work was ultimately destroyed under Xiao Simo's influence, and everything he had held onto became worthless in front of Li Xiao.

Looking at his father's appearance, Hunhu mustered up his courage and stepped forward: "You can't treat my father like this. He's old and his leg is injured. How can you make him kneel so far away?"

"Hunhu, stop talking."

Timur Khan's expression changed drastically, and he quickly reached out to pull his daughter: "Quickly apologize to the King, and don't make him angry again."

She knew all too well that they were not qualified to challenge Li Xiao at this moment; the slightest misstep could lead to annihilation.

Li Xiao was about to turn around and go into the tent when he heard Hun Hu's words and stopped abruptly.

He turned his head and his gaze fell on Hunhu.

The mother and daughter were indeed beautiful. Timur Khanni was in her thirties and had the gentle grace of a mature woman.

Although her face was streaked with tears, her delicate beauty was still undeniable.

But this beauty was quickly shattered by the arrogance in her eyes.

What Li Xiao hates most is this kind of pampered woman who is spoiled and arrogant.

In the Qin state, women may have gentleness, but they never had the right to be domineering, especially the families of the defeated.

His eyes instantly turned cold, and his tone carried an unquestionable authority: "Slap him."

Without hesitation, the guards standing to the side stepped forward and slapped Hunhu across the face.

With a sharp "smack," Hu Hu's cheek instantly swelled up.

She covered her face, staring at Li Xiao in disbelief, her eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

She had always been pampered by everyone since she was a child, and this was the first time she had ever been slapped in the face.

Timur Khan knelt down with a thud and kowtowed repeatedly: "Your Majesty, please forgive me. My daughter was ignorant. Please forgive her this time. Please have mercy on her."

Li Xiao didn't look at Timur Khanni kneeling on the ground, but turned his gaze to Yelü Zhilugu, his tone sarcastic: "Yelü Zhilugu, it seems you haven't raised your daughter well."

"She was spoiled too much, which made her forget her current status."

Looking at his daughter's swollen cheeks, Yelü Zhilugu gritted his teeth and said with heartache, "Li Xiao, if you have any problems, come at me. Don't make things difficult for women and children."

"Women and children?"

Li Xiao sneered, walked up to Hun Hu, looked down at her with icy eyes: "From the moment you became prisoners of war, you had no right to talk about 'making things difficult'."

“You are no longer a princess of Liao, nor are you a golden branch or jade leaf. You are now my slave girl.”

The words "female slave" were like two sharp knives, stabbing fiercely into Hunhu's heart.

She raised her head, her eyes brimming with tears, and looked at Li Xiao, her voice trembling: "I am a princess of the Great Liao Dynasty. Even if I die, I will never be your slave."

"die?"

Li Xiao raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with amusement: "In my camp, death is not a choice you can make. Either you obediently become a female slave and serve me."

"Either go serve the soldiers of Qin, or do hard labor in the workshop until you die from exhaustion."

"Which one do you choose?"

Timur Khanni quickly crawled over, hugged Hunhu's leg, and cried as he pleaded, "Hunhu, don't be stubborn! Quickly promise the king, survival is the most important thing!"

Hun was suddenly ice-cold, his face turned deathly pale with fright, and he could no longer utter a word of resistance.

Yelü Zhilugu closed his eyes, unable to bear looking at his daughter's face any longer.

As the emperor of the Liao Dynasty, he personally led his army to conquer many enemy tribes and plundered their wives and daughters for his own use.

Therefore, he was all too aware of what Hunhu and Timur Khanni were about to face.

The royal dignity he had protected his entire life was utterly crushed by Li Xiao at this moment.

Li Xiao ignored Yelü Zhilugu and ordered his personal guards, "Take this woman to the female slave camp and let the servants 'teach' her some manners."

"As for Yelü Zhilugu's concubine, send her to my tent."

The guards responded and stepped forward, dragging Hunhu and Timur Khan away.

Hunhu's cries gradually faded into the distance, and Yelü Zhilugu's sobs also subsided.

Li Xiao stood before the golden tent, gazing at the distant sun and moon battle banner, his eyes regaining their usual coldness.

On this land, only the strong have the right to speak of dignity; the wails of the losers are nothing but useless lamentations.

(End of this chapter)