My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

If you look closely, you can even see some Jurchens who have shaved their foreheads, have thin braids at the back of their heads, and whose clothing is slightly different from that of the Mongols. However, most of them are Jurchens who have long since submitted to the Ming Dynasty and have been incorporated into the Ming army or settled in Liaodong and Liaoxi. They also bring mountain products, ginseng, pearls and other items and trade among the crowd.

The heavy snowfall did little to cool the burning commercial desires of this land.

The reason is simple: Xuanfu Town, as one of the nine important border towns on the northern border of the Ming Empire, and also one of the most important "five cities" border trade ports specially authorized by the imperial court, is almost the only hub for legal and large-scale commodity exchange between Han areas and Mongolian grasslands and even further northeast within a radius of hundreds of miles.

For the herders on the grasslands, they needed tea, salt, cloth, iron pots, and grain from Han China to survive and improve their lives; for Han Chinese merchants, livestock, furs, and medicinal herbs from the grasslands were highly sought-after commodities with substantial profits.

This dual demand for survival and profit created a powerful attraction, drawing merchants and travelers to this place despite the wind and snow. No matter how heavy the snow or how difficult the road, nothing could stop the sound of camel bells, the clatter of horses' hooves, or people's desire for wealth and livelihood.

Then, looking beyond the towering northern city wall of Xuanfu, we see the vast, snow-covered wilderness beyond the pass.

What is somewhat surprising is that, in the sheltered areas less than three or five miles from the Xuanfu city wall, or even closer, clusters of white Mongolian yurts, like giant mushrooms sprouting on the grass after the rain, are scattered across the snowfield, stretching out along the terrain as far as the eye can see.

A rough estimate suggests there are probably over a thousand yurts of all sizes. Wisps of smoke rise from their chimneys, mingling with the snowflakes drifting in the sky. The sounds of people shouting, horses neighing, dogs barking, and sheep bleating can be faintly heard, forming a sizable settlement.

A few years ago, such a scene would have been absolutely unimaginable.

How dare the Mongols set up their tents so close to the Ming Dynasty's border wall, almost right against the city wall? This is tantamount to holding a sharp knife to the throat of the Xuanfu garrison! The border troops should have long ago sounded the alarm with smoke signals and sent cavalry out to drive them away. If they had encountered resistance, it would have been a bloodbath, with blood staining the snowy plains.

For a long time, between the Han and Mongol peoples, both inside and outside the Great Wall, apart from the officially controlled "mutual trade" that took place at limited times and locations, any private approach was taboo and a prelude to war.

But these days are different!
Those stationed outside Xuanfu City are no longer the same tribes that once surrendered and rebelled, and who plundered indiscriminately.

The vast majority of them were Mongol tribes who successively led their troops to submit to the Ming Dynasty after the Ming army achieved a decisive victory in the Battle of Songjin and re-established its influence over western Liaoning and eastern Mongolia.

They were collectively referred to as "surrendered barbarians" or "subordinate barbarians," and their leaders received imperial decrees from the Ming Dynasty, while their followers were allowed to graze on grasslands designated by the Ming Dynasty.

According to the agreement reached between the Ming Dynasty and the Mongol tribes that submitted to the Ming Dynasty after the war, the sovereignty of the area within 30 li outside Xuanfu Town, including the area where these Mongol tribes are currently grazing, has been clearly transferred to the Ming Dynasty.

In other words, these Mongols, in terms of legal and political status, were no longer "outer vassals," but subjects of the Ming emperor, "people within the realm of civilization," even though they maintained their original tribal organization and nomadic lifestyle.

The benefits of surrendering are obvious, and it was a policy of appeasement that Zhu Cilang and the court intentionally promoted.

First, in trade, they enjoy extremely low tariff preferences.

In the past, Mongolian merchants who traded in border towns such as Xuanfu had to pay a "commission" of up to one-third or even more of the value of their goods, and were often exploited by officials.

Today, tribes that have submitted to the Ming Dynasty can enter the market with an imperial edict or license issued by the Ming Dynasty. They only need to pay a symbolic tax of about one-tenth of the silver, and there are special "pacification officials" to supervise them and prevent officials from extorting extra money.

This allowed them to sell their livestock and furs for better prices, in exchange for more much-needed goods from Han China.

Secondly, there is a tangible improvement in livelihoods.

With the promotion and popularization of high-yield and cold-resistant crops such as sweet potatoes and potatoes in the north, especially in the Jiubian area, the garrison and Han Chinese villagers around Xuanfu Town have long since begun large-scale planting and have reaped a bumper harvest.

This good news was also relayed to the tribes that had submitted to the Mongol rule through border officials and caravans.

Under the selective guidance and demonstration of Ming Dynasty border officials, some Mongolian tribes near the border wall and with relatively good soil and water conditions began to try to cultivate a small amount of land during the summer when the water and grass were plentiful, and to plant potatoes and sweet potatoes, just like the Han people.

Last year's trial planting achieved unexpected success in many tribes.

These tuber crops yield far more than their traditional barley and millet, and are more storable, greatly enriching their winter food sources and enhancing their ability to withstand snow disasters.

Nowadays, in addition to traditional mutton, dairy products, and fried rice, many Mongolian herders' meals now include roasted potatoes and boiled sweet potatoes. They can even use surplus livestock to barter for wheat flour and other grains in Xuanfu City. The pressure of survival has visibly eased.

Therefore, most of the Mongol tribes who submitted to the Mongol rule were satisfied with or even grateful for their current lives.

They no longer had to risk their lives to "seize the border" for the necessities of survival, fighting against the powerful Ming army and suffering huge casualties, as their ancestors had done; nor did they have to freeze or starve to death in the harsh winter due to a lack of food, tea and salt.

They can graze their livestock with relative peace of mind, engage in profitable trade, and even try new production methods.

These days are like paradise compared to the past when we lived in constant fear and uncertainty.

Of course, the estrangement and wariness cannot be eliminated in a day.

Some Mongolians, especially herders who are used to being unrestrained and still harbor suspicions about Han Chinese, would privately complain:
Why are they allowed to graze and trade under the city walls, but not allowed to freely enter Xuanfu City to live and buy property like true "insiders"?
They are still separated from the "inner world" by a tangible city wall and an intangible boundary.

The civil and military officials in Xuanfu had a clear and unified understanding of this.

No matter how docile these Mongols appeared, the ancient proverb—"Those who are not of our kind will surely have different hearts"—always echoed in their hearts like a warning bell.

What if thousands, or even tens of thousands, of fierce Mongols and their families were allowed to live in the city? What if they harbored ulterior motives and caused trouble at night, colluding with those inside and outside? Xuanfu, this important border town, would be in danger of falling in an instant.

No one dares to take this risk.

Therefore, the rules of the border town remained strict: Mongols could enter the market to trade during the day, but they had to leave the city before sunset and return to their camp outside the pass; the guards at the city gates strictly restricted and inspected the weapons they carried; at night, the city gates were tightly closed, the drawbridge was high, and the soldiers patrolling the city walls always kept a watchful eye on the yurt camp outside the city.

This delicate relationship, which is both cooperative and wary, is a product of the intertwining of history and reality.

Zhu Cilang was well aware of this, and he was confident that with the passage of time, with deeper economic ties, cultural immersion, and continued power deterrence, this divide would gradually dissolve, ultimately achieving true "one family of Chinese and barbarians."

But this requires time, patience, and, more importantly, sustained and correct policy guidance. Currently, maintaining this peaceful coexistence, where each party gets what it needs, is a crucial step in creating a stable rear area for the impending war of annihilation.

The camera continues to pan northward, past the yurt camps with smoke rising from them outside Xuanfu, and deep into the heart of the real, vast Mongolian grasslands.

The scene suddenly changed. Only one color remained in the world—white.

Under a leaden sky, there was an endless, snow-covered grassland that stretched all the way to the horizon where it met the low-hanging dark clouds.

The north wind howled across the plains, whipping up snowflakes that formed gusts of white, suffocating "white-haired winds." There were no cattle or sheep, no yurts, no human habitation, and even the tracks of birds and beasts were hard to find.

As far as the eye can see, there is only desolation, emptiness, and coldness; a primitive and harsh silence that seems to freeze time reigns over this place.

This is the typical winter season on the Mongolian grasslands, and it reflects the laws of survival.

For thousands of years, the herders on the grasslands have mastered the wisdom of coexisting with the harsh winter. They understand the principle of "autumn is high and horses are fat," and in summer and autumn, they drive their livestock to the best pastures to fatten up, allowing cattle, sheep, horses, and camels to accumulate thick layers of fat to withstand the depletion and cold of the long winter.

When the first heavy snow falls, it heralds the arrival of true winter, and the large and small tribes on the grasslands will begin their last and most important large-scale migration of the year.

The entire tribe mobilized, dismantling the movable wooden frames and felt-covered yurts, loading them onto wooden-wheeled oxcarts, and driving the vast herd of livestock, like a slow but steady river, away from the summer and autumn pastures, heading in a mighty procession towards the pre-selected winter pastures.

The selection of winter pastures is very particular. They are usually located in valleys, depressions, or basins surrounded by hills that are sheltered from the wind, sunny, and close to a stable water source.

Such places can effectively block the fierce northwest winds, are relatively warm, and have water sources to ensure drinking water for people and livestock.

After arriving at the winter pasture, the tribe will set up camp there and spend the entire winter mainly "herding" to greatly reduce movement in order to conserve the physical strength and energy of people and livestock.

Strong horses and cattle would be grazed on distant slopes where withered grass still grew, while the large but more vulnerable sheep and goats would mostly roam around the camp and had to be herded back to the makeshift enclosures made of carts in the evening to protect them from wolves.

The entire tribe entered a slow and frugal mode of survival, similar to animals hibernating, waiting for the first sound of grass sprouting in the spring of the following year.

Deep in the snowfield, about three hundred miles northwest of Xuanfu, in a wide valley surrounded by rolling hills, the scenery is completely different.

This place is backed by an east-west mountain ridge, which effectively blocks most of the north winds and blizzards.

In the center of the valley, a small river that is not completely frozen meanders through, its water gurgling beneath the ice and emitting wisps of white steam.

On both sides of the river, thousands of yurts are densely packed together, like a cluster of giant white mushrooms that suddenly grow on the snow, almost covering the entire valley.

A large number of carts were parked together at the edge of the camp, forming a simple barrier.

Cattle, horses, camels, and sheep were divided into sections and enclosed in designated areas. Although fodder was running low and the livestock looked somewhat thin, the order was well maintained.

Above the camp, hundreds of wisps of smoke rose straight up from the chimneys of the yurts, swirling and curling in the windless valley, mingling with the aroma of burning livestock dung, the fragrance of cooked meat, and the slightly sour smell of dairy products, creating a vivid picture of a winter camp in a grassland tribe.

This is the winter camp chosen by the Khorchin tribe.

In the center of this camp, the largest and most ornately decorated giant golden-roofed yurt proclaims the distinguished status of its owner:

Borjigin Abu Nai.

Behind the Khan's tent, on a slightly elevated snow slope overlooking most of the camp, a young girl dressed in an exquisite red Mongolian robe and covered with a snow-white sable cloak stood quietly in the knee-deep snow.

She is Qiqige who has returned to the grasslands.

At this moment, the cold wind ruffled the strands of hair under her hat and the fur collar of her cloak. Her beautiful brows furrowed slightly, and her clear eyes, like those of a grassland lake, were gazing absently towards the southeast—that was the direction of the Ming Dynasty, the Great Wall, Xuanfu, and… Beijing.

As far as the eye could see, there was only a vast, desolate snowfield, a few withered trees shivering in the cold wind, and in the distance, a blurry, chaotic gray-white line where the sky and earth met.

Although she couldn't see anything, her thoughts had already soared over the thousands of mountains and snow-covered plains.

She has been away from Beijing for more than two months and has returned to the grassland where she was born and raised.

The initial excitement and sense of freedom were like summer flowers on the grassland—brilliant but fleeting.

When she mounted her horse again and galloped freely across the golden autumn grasslands; when she slept again in the familiar yurt, listening to the wind and the sounds of cattle and sheep outside; when she saw her long-lost brother Abunai and spoke of their separation in their mother tongue... that sense of belonging truly captivated her.

However, this euphoria did not last long.

As late autumn approaches and winter draws near, the almost primitive pressure of survival on the grasslands, the struggle against harsh nature, the monotony and isolation of day after day, especially the heaviness, hesitation, and even the instinctive fear and calculation towards powerful neighbors felt when discussing the future with his elder brother and the tribal nobles...

All of this made her involuntarily begin to miss her days in Beijing.

Although her status at that time was delicate, almost like that of a "hostage," and her movements were restricted, Beijing had bustling streets she had never seen before, uniquely charming pavilions and towers, exquisite and delicious food, warm and spring-like palaces, and endless novelties, as well as books that seemed to contain infinite wisdom and people discussing the affairs of the world.

Of course, what troubled her most was the image of that person.

That young crown prince who initially instilled fear, alienation, and even some dislike in her. (End of Chapter)