The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the border troops, it was overthrown and the Qing Dynasty was destro

Chapter 220 Have you not heard that kings, nobles, generals and ministers are not born with a special destiny?

As night deepened, the flames of the butter lamps flickered quietly in the luxurious guest room, casting two figures onto the thick carpet.

The noise and fervor of the party had subsided, and Xue Zhiheng's face was flushed with the effects of the alcohol, but his eyes were crystal clear.

He lowered his voice and said to Li Zicheng:

"It's all agreed upon. The final price is 18,000 top-quality Hequ horses in exchange for the entire set of relics."

"Eighteen thousand horses?!"

Even with Li Zicheng's resolute will, his breath caught in his throat when he heard the number, and an uncontrollable surge of joy appeared on his face.

This is enough to form an invincible iron cavalry that can sweep across the southwest and northwest!

But Xue Zhiheng's tone suddenly changed, pouring cold water on the situation.

"Don't be too happy too soon."

"No tribe or temple could produce so many horses all at once. Even the Mongol Khan on the grasslands couldn't gather them all in a short time."

He held up a few fingers:
"They will deliver three to five thousand fine horses each year in batches, and strive to pay for them all within three to five years."

"In exchange, we'll have to bring the remaining two Shadow Bone Relics on our next trip."

Upon hearing this, Li Zicheng frowned deeply.

"Bring everything?"

"What if they get the relics and then deny everything?"

Xue Zhiheng shook his head, quite certain:
"No! You can rest assured about that."

"Here, nothing is more important than reputation."

"If they dare to use underhanded means to seize the sacred artifact, once the news gets out, no matter who it is, their reputation will be completely ruined."

"Although there are many warhorses, they are still far from being comparable to the legacy they have accumulated over the years."

"Without prestige, they will surely perish on this snowy plateau within ten years."

"Nobody dares to take that risk."

At this point, Xue Zhiheng leaned close to Li Zicheng's ear and lowered his voice:

"Besides, this thing is a fake anyway."

"We've already made a killing by trading a few broken stones for thousands of warhorses. What else could we possibly worry about?"

Li Zicheng nodded after hearing this, and then he felt relieved.

Xue Zhiheng cleared his throat and explained the follow-up arrangements:

"Ten days later, the debate conference was officially held, lasting a total of five days."

"After the Dharma assembly ends, the winner will gather the first batch of Hequ horses from various places, which will probably take about a month."

"We'll have to stay here for more than a month."

His expression turned serious, and he continued to add.

"Also, we definitely can't go through Songpanwei again when we go back."

“Several thousand horses is no small number; they are too big a target. Any soldier in Songpan who isn’t blind can see them.”

"We need to take a shortcut and bypass the Ming army's passes."

"The journey back will be at least twice as long and extremely arduous. You need to be mentally prepared."

Li Zicheng shrugged. "Crossing mountains and valleys? No big deal. That's what the commander-in-chief sent him to do."

Xue Zhiheng looked at him:
"I think you'd better send your personal guards back the way they came right now to inform the commander-in-chief."

"Have him time it right and send a troop of elite soldiers to the border to meet us, so that nothing goes wrong."

Li Zicheng nodded solemnly, memorizing these key time points and arrangements.

Seeing that he had finished explaining everything, Xue Zhiheng got up to go back and rest.

Seeing this, Li Zicheng's lips moved as if he wanted to speak, but he didn't know where to begin, and a hint of hesitation appeared on his face.

Xue Zhiheng immediately noticed his unusual behavior, stopped and asked:

"Does Lieutenant General Li have anything else to say?"

After a moment of silence, Li Zicheng finally asked the question that had been bothering him:
"Oh right, the list those people wrote before."

His voice was a little hoarse.
What are those things?

Xue Zhiheng was somewhat surprised to hear this, not expecting him to care about this:

"It's nothing serious. This is the rule in Tibet, and it's not the same as the rule in Central China."

Upon hearing this, Li Zicheng suddenly shrank back:
"Don't they resist?"

Xue Zhiheng pursed his lips as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world:
"Resist what? This is what the people here believe in."

"To be able to offer one's body for the Guru and for the Dharma assembly is an immense blessing and a form of spiritual practice!"

"Many people want to dedicate themselves but aren't qualified! Some people are just hoping to be chosen."

As he spoke, his tone suddenly turned cold.

"Those who dared to resist have long since turned into fertilizer."

He walked to the door and looked back at Li Zicheng one last time:

"General Li, this place is not like the Central Plains."

“In the eyes of us Han people, a human life still has some weight.”

"But here, a Langsheng's life is worth less than a straw rope."

"Don't forget, when in Rome, do as the Romans do."

Ten days later, the debate meeting was held as scheduled.

The entire Sangke Grassland was in an uproar; the banks of the Daxia River were packed with people, and banners fluttered like a forest.

Nobles from all directions arrived with their guards, leading plump cattle and sheep, adorned with colorful hadas (ceremonial scarves), their faces beaming with joy at participating in the sacred celebration.

The manor was decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and the tall prayer flag poles were adorned with brand-new flags.

The melodious sound of conch shells and the deep chanting of sutras continued from dawn till dusk, without ceasing.

Everyone was celebrating and reveling in this war to decide the ownership of the "sacred relic".

Li Zicheng, however, felt only a deep-seated irritation and alienation.

He stood in the crowd, watching the devout believers prostrating themselves in worship.

Listening to those solemn and dignified scriptures that seemed to cleanse the soul; smelling the rich, comforting scent of pine and cypress in the air,

But those things always involuntarily keep popping into my head.
He had fought for many years and seen countless battlefields, large and small, with severed limbs, corpses, and corpses strewn everywhere. After seeing so many, he was used to it.

But that was war, a battlefield where swords clashed and lives were at stake, so it was understandable to go into battle and kill the enemy.

But here...
He didn't want to watch anymore, so he turned and left the bustling crowd.

Tenzin Chokyi dared not neglect this "meritorious lay protector of the Dharma," and immediately sent a steward who had a basic understanding of Chinese to accompany him.

The steward, named Losang, respectfully followed beside Li Zicheng, eloquently describing the grandeur of the manor and the wealth of its lord.

Li Zicheng listened half-heartedly, his mind completely elsewhere.

He strolled along, and before he knew it, he had reached a secluded corner at the back of the manor.

There are several stone-built courtyards with high walls, a stark contrast to the open layout of the rest of the estate.

Li Zicheng looked at Losang beside him with some doubt:
"Losang, where is this place?"

Losang glanced at the courtyard in front of him, a hint of disdain flashing across his face:
"Layman, this is the torture chamber, used specifically to punish disobedient students."

"This place is filthy and lowly, not a place for you. There are better views ahead, let me take you..."

But before he could finish speaking, an extremely shrill scream suddenly came from inside the stone courtyard!
The sound wasn't human; it was more like the dying howl of a wild beast, its immense pain piercing the stone wall and striking straight to the heart. Losang's face darkened. These lowly servants, if they're being tortured, so be it! Why are they howling like ghosts? What if they disturb our distinguished guests?
Ignoring Losang's attempts to stop him, Li Zicheng strode into the stone courtyard.

He followed the sound into a stone house to the south, where he saw several burly guards surrounding a blood-soaked figure in the middle, who also appeared to be a loudmouth.

Several oddly shaped curved knives were hanging on the wall, and various torture instruments were placed in the corner.

Li Zicheng recognized some of them; the standing cage, wooden shackles, branding irons, and so on were all there.

Li Zicheng pointed to Nangsheng, who was being tortured in the middle, and coldly asked:
"What's happening here?"

Losang waved his hand casually and explained:

"This bastard peeked at something he shouldn't have, and now he's going to gouge out his eyes."

Li Zicheng squinted and saw that Lang Sheng had a stone hat tightly wrapped around his head, which made him a little puzzled.

"Gouging out eyes?"

"Why gouge out your eyes and wear a stone hat?"

A cruel smile appeared on Losang's face:

"Since you are interested, I will certainly demonstrate it for you."

"This is called 'pressing the stone and squeezing the eye,' and it's our master's favorite trick."

"It is said that only by gouging out eyes in this way can they be full enough."

After saying that, Losang gestured to the guards, signaling them to continue the execution.

Several guards nodded, and two of them struggled to lift another, heavier stone slab, and with a heave, pressed it down hard on the stone hat on the man's head.

This is the pressing stone.

"Crack...crack..."

As the guards continued to add weight to the stone, gradually applying downward pressure, Lang Sheng beneath the stone slab began to tremble incessantly.

He clenched his teeth and tensed all the muscles in his body to resist the immense pressure on his head.

But as the pressure increased, his skull began to deform and crack, making a teeth-grinding sound.

Before long, a terrifying scene unfolded.

Li Zicheng watched the scene calmly, but his fist, hidden in his sleeve, was already clenched white.

He suppressed the urge to kill and slowly walked out of the cell.

He looked at Losang beside him and said in an unquestionable tone:

"I want to be alone. You can leave now."

"But, layman..."

Li Zicheng's voice carried the murderous intent of a battlefield:
"roll!"

Losang trembled with fright, dared not say another word, bowed, and ran away in a panic.

Li Zicheng stood there for a moment, sighed deeply, and slowly relaxed his fist.

He knew that now was not the time to act rashly; this foreign land was not a place for him to run wild.

Xue Zhiheng reminded him to do as the Romans do.

Li Zicheng wandered aimlessly around the manor. He walked to a stable and stroked the magnificent Hequ horse in front of him, trying to calm his mind.

At that moment, he suddenly noticed that a young man was lying face down in the corner, kneeling on the ground, not daring to move.

Li Zicheng leaned closer and, after a careful look, recognized Lang Sheng in front of him. It seemed that this kid had acted as a human bridge for him before.

He spoke in broken Tibetan, asking:
"Hey, what's your name?"

Lang Sheng glanced up slightly, then immediately lowered his head and kowtowed repeatedly to Li Zicheng, begging for mercy while trembling all over.

Looking at his terrified face, Li Zicheng softened his tone and then took out a piece of yak jerky from his pocket and handed it to him.

Lang Sheng was stunned. He wanted to accept the invitation but dared not, fearing that the important person in front of him would make fun of him.

He had heard of cases where scholars had their hands cut off for casually accepting gifts from noblemen.

Li Zicheng shoved the dried meat into Lang Sheng's hand, signaling him to relax.

Then he pointed to the stone courtyard not far away and began to communicate with words and gestures.

"Your Stone Courtyard. Punishment"

Lang Sheng shook his head in terror, not daring to speak.

Li Zicheng sighed, pointed to the bustling Buddhist assembly in the distance, then made a gesture of banging a gong and drum, pointed to various parts of his body, and finally pointed to Lang Sheng, looking at him with a questioning gaze.

"I heard that the method uses organs from your own body?"

He gestured with difficulty.

"...Is it true?"

This action seemed to touch upon Lang Sheng's deepest fears.

His body stiffened, and a hint of expression seemed to appear in his dull eyes.

He mustered his courage and began to imitate Li Zicheng's gestures.

After a difficult communication involving gestures and guesswork, Li Zicheng finally understood the background of the man in front of him, Lang Sheng.

His name was Tsering, and he was a slave boy in the household of Master Tenzin Chokyi.

There are five people in my family: my parents, my older sister, and my younger brother.

His father, having fallen behind on rent, became a slave to the master and was later beaten to death.

His mother was thrown into the cave because she spilled a bowl of tsampa meant for the master.

My older sister disappeared a long time ago; I heard she was chosen by someone.
Only Tsering and his younger brother remained at home, relying on each other for survival.

Tsering's younger brother was very clever and always managed to please the master, doing things in a way that satisfied him.

Tsering was very happy; he had thought that his younger brother would be able to get rid of his status as a Langsheng because of his intelligence.
He then rose rapidly through the ranks, eventually becoming the steward of the manor.

But later, the master of Zhuka Monastery discovered his younger brother.

The master said he was intelligent and had a connection to Buddhism, so he brought him to the temple.

When Tsering saw his younger brother again, he had been broken into several pieces.

Clever skin, a round and smooth head, and legs full of Buddhist-like grace.
Tsering gestured as tears silently streamed down his face.

Whenever a Dharma assembly is held, Tsering can hear his younger brother's voice and remember the clever boy.

Upon hearing this, Li Zicheng felt as if a thousand-pound boulder was pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

After a long silence, he sighed deeply and looked at Tsering before him:
"Your family has all been murdered, don't you dare to resist?"

Tsering looked at him blankly, his eyes full of confusion.

Revolt?

What is resistance?
Anyone who showed the slightest disrespect to the master would be sent to the stone house.

No one on this land dared to defy the master.

Li Zicheng stared at Ciren and said, word by word:

“Master, one is not necessarily born a master.”

Li Zicheng, facing the pitiful soul before him, asked the question that would change his life forever:

We Han Chinese have a saying: "Are kings, nobles, generals, and ministers born with a special destiny?"

"Don't you barbarians understand?"

　It was censored.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)