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

He walked back to his seat, leaned forward slightly, clasped his hands on his knees, and looked at Qiqige with a deep gaze, outlining for her the clear but narrow path of the future in an unquestionable tone:

"Qiqige, your future choices are actually very simple; there are only three paths."

He held up a finger:
"First, marry Zhu Cilang, the Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty. This is currently the most advantageous and likely path for you and the Khorchin. When he ascends the throne, you will become an imperial concubine of the Ming Dynasty. If you can bear children, your position will be even more secure. This marriage alliance can ensure decades of peace and smooth trade for our Khorchin tribe, and even for the Mongol tribes that are friendly with the Ming Dynasty, free from the ravages of war. You will become a bridge connecting the Ming and the Mongols, a contribution that will last for generations."

He paused, then held up his second finger:

"Secondly, if the marriage alliance with the Ming Dynasty fails, or if you have other considerations, then your destiny is to marry the leader of another powerful Mongol tribe in the surrounding area—perhaps a Taiji from the Khalkha in the north, or perhaps the leader of the Tumed or Ordos in the west. Through marriage, we can consolidate the alliance between our Khorchin and them, enhance our voice on the grasslands, and jointly deal with possible threats. This is a tradition that has continued on the grasslands for thousands of years, and it is also your destiny."

At this point, Abner paused, gazing into Kikige's eyes. A certain light seemed to flicker deep within his gaze, a rare glimpse of tenderness and struggle belonging to his elder brother.

He seemed to be making a difficult decision, remaining silent for several breaths before slowly uttering the third path in a much lower and more solemn voice:
"Or..."

He took a deep breath, as if gathering immense courage:
"Or perhaps, you already have someone you like. Not for political reasons, not for a sense of responsibility, but simply because you like him and want to be with him, to live an ordinary life that belongs only to the two of you. If you really have someone like that, and you really think that way..."

Abner's voice softened, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible earnestness:

"As long as you tell your brother who that person is, as long as he is of good character and treats you well, even if he is just an ordinary warrior on the grassland, even if he has nothing... your brother will do everything he can to help you. I can arrange for you to go far away to a place where no one knows you, and give you enough cattle, sheep and wealth so that you can live out the rest of your lives in peace and prosperity."

After saying this, Abuna seemed to have exhausted all his strength, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Qiqige with a complicated expression.

His previous words seemed cold, treating his sister as a political bargaining chip, but that was more of a posture that a leader had to show and a reality that had to be stated.

Deep in his heart, he still remembers the years when he and his sister depended on each other for survival in the brutal tribal struggles after their parents died at a young age.

He still loved his intelligent and strong sister dearly and couldn't bear to push her completely onto that cold and ruthless political altar.

If... if his sister could have her own happiness and break free from the shackles of this golden family, he was willing to take a risk, bear the pressure that might come from inside and outside the tribe, and set her free.

This was perhaps the last thing he could do for his younger sister, something that belonged to the "elder brother" rather than the "Taijitsu" (a term of respect for a powerful and influential figure).

However, faced with her brother's unexpected and sacrificial "third path," Qiqige's confusion did not dissipate but instead deepened.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

The person you like? Running away to a distant place?
Her mind went blank for a moment.

She grew up in a tribe and had seen many young men, including brave warriors and skilled singers, but none of them seemed to have ever made her feel that so-called "liking," that impulse that would make her give up everything and elope with them.

Her life and her vision had long been limited by family responsibilities and her later career as a "hostage".

However, amidst this chaos, without warning, a face suddenly and clearly appeared in her mind—not any familiar Mongolian youth from the grasslands, but the young crown prince thousands of miles away in the Forbidden City!

His deep, calm eyes, the occasional upturn of his lips, his composed demeanor when discussing world affairs... countless fragments of him rushed into my mind.

Could it be... could it be that she really fell in love with him? This thought made her heart skip a beat, followed by a deeper sense of panic and disbelief.

However, it seems he never made any gestures that went beyond the bounds of propriety.

That so-called "liking" might just be a dependence on oneself while in a foreign land, an unconscious admiration for the strong, or a delusion caused by being interrogated by one's older brother.

Her chaotic thoughts raged through her mind like a blizzard on the prairie. She instinctively shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake off that figure and those unsettling ideas.

She raised her pale face, looked at her brother, and spoke in a dry and weak voice:
"I...I don't know, let me...think about it some more. My mind is a mess."

Seeing his sister's distraught and confused state, Abuna understood and sighed inwardly.

He knew that the so-called "person he liked" most likely didn't exist. His sister's hesitation and confusion precisely showed that her heart might have already been unknowingly occupied by that distant and powerful Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty, but she herself hadn't fully realized it, or was unwilling to admit it.

He didn't press further, nor did he spout any more grand principles. He simply nodded, stood up, gently patted Qiqige's shoulder, and his tone returned to its usual calm:

"Alright, think it over carefully. But time is running out. The Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty is arriving soon, and many things must be decided before and after the talks. You should rest; your brother needs to go and prepare for his arrival."

After saying this, he took one last look at his sister, turned around, and strode out of the tent. The heavy felt curtain fell behind him, blocking out light and sound from both inside and outside.

Abnai stepped outside the tent, where the biting wind invigorated him and dispelled some of the gloom in his heart.

He looked up at the gloomy sky, which seemed about to snow, and his eyes became sharp and wary again.

Zhu Cilang's agreement to come was a good thing, but also a huge pressure. He had to make thorough preparations for this meeting. Although the meeting place, as agreed, was a relatively open valley near the grassland, jointly surveyed by both sides, which was theoretically his "home ground," he dared not be careless in the slightest.

He was terrified.

Were they afraid that the Ming crown prince, known for his decisive methods and unpredictable mind, might use the guise of talks to actually "capture the king"?
What if, when negotiations break down, they suddenly launch an attack, detain or even kill him, the leader of the Khorchin, and then take advantage of the chaos to install a more obedient puppet?
This concern kept him from getting too close to the Xuanfu city wall. The agreed location was one he had carefully considered to ensure that his cavalry could deploy quickly and that there was a way to retreat.

Even so, he still had to arrive several days in advance, send out a large number of scouts to clear out possible ambushes, familiarize himself with every part of the surrounding terrain, and secretly deploy enough elite cavalry on the outskirts in case of any unforeseen circumstances.

The survival rules of the grasslands taught him that he could never entrust his safety entirely to the "integrity" of others.

Time flies like an arrow, slipping away quietly amidst tense preparations and anxious waiting.

In the blink of an eye, ten days passed.

In late October of the seventeenth year of the Chongzhen reign (1644), in Xuanfu Town.

The chill of late autumn was already biting, and Xuanfu was covered in a blanket of white. But today the sky was unusually clear, and the pale winter sun shone on the snow-covered plain, reflecting a dazzling light.

On that very day, Zhu Cilang's carriage, under heavy guard, arrived at Xuanfu Town.

Since Qin Liangyu had been recalled to Beijing to jointly oversee the defense of the capital with the British public, the highest military commander in Xuanfu at this time was Qin Liangyu's son, Ma Xianglin.

He had already received strict orders to lead the civil and military officials of Xuanfu ten miles outside the city to welcome His Highness the Crown Prince and to take the Crown Prince and his entourage to the Xuanfu General's Mansion, which was already prepared and heavily guarded.

Despite the long journey, Zhu Cilang's face showed some fatigue, but his spirits remained high.

In the afternoon, a force of approximately 12,000 elite Ming soldiers, led by a commander of the Eastern Palace guards, marched out of the north gate of Xuanfu and headed straight for the meeting place agreed upon with Abunai.

This army was well-disciplined and in high spirits. In addition to the usual cavalry, infantry, and supply wagons, it was also accompanied by dozens of specially made large flatbed wagons covered with thick tarpaulins and pulled by several strong mules. The outlines of the objects on the wagons were huge and strange, which attracted the attention of soldiers and civilians along the way and Mongolian scouts in the distance, but no one knew what they were.

As dusk fell, the afterglow of the setting sun painted the snowfield with a poignant golden-red hue, and the vanguard of the Ming army arrived at their destination and began to set up camp.

They chose an open spot with their backs to a gentle slope and their faces to the center of the valley. They skillfully set up camp, dug trenches, and erected barricades, displaying the demeanor of seasoned veterans.

At the northern end of the valley, about five miles from the Ming army camp, on a leeward slope, Abunai's main Khorchin cavalry force had already been stationed for three days.

The camps of nearly 30,000 Khorchin cavalrymen stretched out in a continuous line, with warhorses neighing and banners waving, and were equally heavily guarded.

Upon seeing the Ming army arrive from the south and begin setting up camp, Abunai immediately became nervous, thinking that the Crown Prince of Ming had personally arrived.

He immediately became extremely vigilant, ordering the entire army to be on high alert, nocking bows and drawing swords, and dispatching a team of skilled scouts to the Ming army camp to inquire and observe at close range.

Soon after, the scout returned with news:
The Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty has just arrived in Xuanfu today. He is exhausted from his journey and needs to rest here for the night. He will come here at 9:00 AM tomorrow.

The troops that arrived today are just the advance team, here to set up the venue and ensure the safety of tomorrow's talks.

Upon hearing this, Abunai felt a slight sense of relief, but his vigilance remained.

He waved for the scouts to retreat, then climbed a slightly higher snow slope. Using the last rays of the setting sun, he squinted and carefully observed the Ming army camp that was rapidly taking shape in the distance.

The Ming army's camp was arranged in an orderly manner, demonstrating a very high level of military skill.

But soon, Abnai's attention was drawn to an unusually large tent that was being rapidly erected in the rear center of the camp.

The size of that tent far exceeded that of ordinary tents! Even the "golden tent" used by the chief of the largest tribe on the grassland paled in comparison.

Its height was probably four or five zhang (approximately 10-12 meters), and it covered a vast area. It required dozens of thick wooden poles as a framework, and hundreds of soldiers shouting in unison as they pulled together to cover the huge, multi-layered, thickened, specially made canvas tent. In the setting sun, the outline of the tent looked like a small gray hill that had suddenly landed on the snowfield, particularly abrupt and conspicuous.

"Ok?"

Abunai frowned, pointed to the huge tent, and asked a trusted general beside him:
"What is the Ming army up to? Why are they setting up such a huge tent? Is it for the Crown Prince's arrival tomorrow, to display their power and prestige?"

The general also looked bewildered, craning his neck to look again and again, and hesitated before saying:

"Your Majesty, this... I have never seen such a huge military tent before. Perhaps... perhaps it is as Your Majesty said, that the Ming people value pomp and circumstance above all else, especially when the Crown Prince of the Celestial Empire is personally present. Naturally, a magnificent tent befitting his status must be erected to show his distinguished status?"

This explanation aligns with the common perception that the Ming Dynasty was "concerned about face" and "valued etiquette."

Upon hearing this, Abunai felt that the tent was excessively large, far exceeding what was required for "luxury," but he couldn't think of any other more reasonable explanation for the time being.

Subconsciously, he still viewed the Ming Dynasty through the lens of a nomadic tribe—it seemed only natural that the largest tents were reserved for the most distinguished people.

He curled his lip, his tone carrying a subtle hint of sarcasm and relief:
"Hmph, the Celestial Empire is indeed sophisticated. Fine, let them be. Send down the order to strengthen nighttime security and deploy more double-guards to prevent Ming attacks. Tomorrow, I'll see what kind of person this Ming Crown Prince is and what he can offer to persuade me."

He took one last look at the Ming army's tent, which loomed like a colossal beast in the twilight, then turned and walked down the snowy slope. Little did he know, he was completely wrong.

That ridiculously huge tent was not for anyone to live in, nor was it meant to showcase the prince's extravagant lifestyle.

Inside, the lights were on, and dozens of top craftsmen and technicians, urgently transferred from the Beijing Ordnance Research Institute, were conducting a tense but orderly secret operation with the assistance of the most reliable engineers sent by Ma Xianglin.

Assemble the "Divine Machine Iron Fortress" that was disassembled and transported!
Huge boiler components, heavy steel frames, iron-clad wooden wheels taller than a person, complex transmission links, and riveted thick steel plate shells... These behemoths, assembled on specially made carriages, are being hoisted, positioned, riveted, and fastened one by one by the skilled craftsmen.

The clanging of metal, the shouts, and the short exhaust sounds during steam tests were mostly blocked out by the thick tent.

Outside the tent, elite Ming soldiers stood guard every three steps and sentries every five, making the area completely impenetrable, preventing even a mouse from sneaking in to spy. (End of Chapter)