LFHYB -Chapter 77 Tuyuhun Defeated Again

While Li Shimin and Li Xuanba trained their young hawks on the grasslands, Yang Guang, though having reached Xiping Commandery, still did not immediately march the army.

He first held lectures on military matters for the Sui soldiers.

The Sui emperor spoke eloquently from a high platform, while the soldiers below feigned attentive listening.

Yang Guang covered topics from martial training and archery to various strategies and formations.

He spoke ceaselessly, as if every possible strategy had already been anticipated.

The Sui generals bit their tongues to suppress yawns, forcing themselves to stay focused.

After personally lecturing the entire Sui army on his martial insights, Yang Guang went on a hunting expedition in the Bayan Mountains.

He encircled the entire Bayan Mountains, having the Sui soldiers display their strength through a grand hunt.

Only after all this was done did Yang Guang resume his march.

By the time the Sui army was finally allowed to attack the Tuyuhun Khan, it was already the end of May.

This gave the Tuyuhun Khan an extra month to regroup and prepare.

Late May was already the height of summer, and even in Zhangye, the heat was intense.

Li Xuanba, who had avoided serious illness in the cold winter, fell sick with a fever for two days during the scorching summer.

After his fever subsided, he continued to cough. Even in summer, he still needed to wear relatively heavy robes in the rain, or his cough would worsen.

Because of Li Xuanba’s illness, Li Shimin’s attention finally shifted away from Yang Guang’s bewildering military arrangements.

Lecturing on martial skills and staging large-scale hunts were indeed ways to show off military might. But this was war! Spending time on such trivialities instead of simply ordering Sui generals into battle seemed illogical.

Even Yuwen Shu, considered a mediocre Sui general, could make the Tuyuhun Khan flee in panic. Yang Guang could have simply sent any experienced commander and waited at the rear while the general handled the battlefield.

Even if Tuyuhun was weak, giving them half a year to regroup wouldn’t cause much trouble. Yet the army’s march consumed enormous amounts of grain daily, and countless civilians were conscripted to serve. How many families were ruined, how many lives lost, due to this half-year of wasted time?

But it was still the Sui dynasty; the emperor didn’t care, and the two young lords of the Duke Tang Mansion caring didn’t matter either.

They continued studying, raising their hawks, and waiting for the emperor to arrive with the Sui army.

Yang Guang had assumed that, given Tuyuhun’s disastrous performance last year, sending any army would be enough to crush them.

The Sui generals thought the same.

Even the mediocre Yuwen Shu could easily win; with so many veteran generals under Yang Guang who had fought in the conquest of Chen, victory seemed assured.

Under such complacency, the Right Guard General Zhang Dinghe paid the ultimate price first.

Zhang Dinghe, a famous general of Emperor Wen of Sui, had risen from humble beginnings through battlefield prowess.

He advanced alone and was struck down by a volley of Tuyuhun arrows.

Soon after, the Left Minister Liang Mo also perished in defeat.

Liang Mo, another renowned general of Emperor Wen, had campaigned north with Yang Su against the Turks and quelled the rebellion of Prince Yang Liang.

He was defeated by the Tuyuhun Khan Fuyun, who had chosen the tactic of “resting while the enemy tires,” and died fighting valiantly.

A Tuyuhun that had already fallen last year still managed to break two famous generals. The mid- and lower-ranking officers who died, along with countless unnamed soldiers, stained the waters of Fuyuan River red.

Yet against the mighty Sui, Tuyuhun’s victories were fleeting. Soon, the Sui army pressed forward, and the Tuyuhun Khan Fuyun fled once again, escaping yet another time.

In June, Yang Guang declared a complete victory in this campaign.

He continued westward, heading to Zhangye to meet the kings of over twenty Western regions, using this great victory to showcase Sui’s strength and compel foreign states to submit.

By this time, Li Xuanba’s cough had improved significantly, only itching in his throat when it rained.

Li Shimin could now focus on following the war reports again.

When he heard that the Tuyuhun Khan Fuyun had fled again and Yang Guang declared a complete victory, he asked Li Xuanba: “Is this outcome any different from last August? Fuyun hasn’t died, so Tuyuhun hasn’t truly perished.”

Li Xuanba leisurely replied after finishing a bowl of stewed pear soup to soothe his throat: “It’s different. Last year’s great victory wasn’t under Your Majesty’s personal command. This year’s victory is.”

Li Shimin sighed deeply and did not bring up the matter again.

From the Sui perspective, the war against Tuyuhun was over, and it was time to celebrate.

Yang Guang eagerly proceeded to Zhangye, while Pei Shiju had already contacted over twenty kings and envoys from the Western Regions to pay homage to the Sui emperor.

After recovering, Li Xuanba also assisted Pei Shiju with some of the diplomatic reception work, familiarizing himself with the envoys.

Thanks to his exceptional memory and rapid language learning, Pei Shiju entrusted all ordinary reception tasks to Li Xuanba after confirming his health.

Li Shimin, slower at learning languages, followed his younger brother with a sword at his side, acting as bodyguard while also listening to Li Xuanba translate conversations for him.

The envoys were delighted by Li Xuanba’s ability to speak their languages and felt respected.

Later, one incident turned their admiration for him into genuine awe.

All of it was because of the hawk cub Wudi.

When Li Shimin, as “leader,” trained Han Gou and Wudi, it was like a general training his loyal soldiers. Even dangerous maneuvers were obeyed by the birds.

After Li Xuanba convinced Li Shimin, he realized that eagles must be honed through challenges; indulging them would only produce fat chickens that could fly. So he trained Han Gou and Wudi rigorously.

When they were injured, he hid his own tears from them, preserving his authority as their leader.

The more Li Shimin trained them strictly, the more they revered him—even when their claws could now tear his flesh, their past repeated failures kept them from defying him.

But with Li Xuanba, the two hawk cubs were entirely different.

For example, when commanded to dive through a dense tree, following Li Shimin’s orders, they crashed through countless small branches without fear.

Under Li Xuanba’s command, Han Gou complied, albeit slowly, brushing branches aside while descending to avoid obstruction.

Wudi, who had always been oppositional toward Li Xuanba since childhood, was different. It would flop onto the ground, belly up, rolling left and right, screaming as if Li Xuanba were torturing it.

Li Xuanba was baffled. He had never spoiled or indulged the hawks, so why did it seem that they weren’t afraid of him at all?

It wasn’t that the two young eagles didn’t listen; most of the time, they obeyed Li Xuanba. It was just that when they were tired, hungry, or bored, or when the lesson was challenging, one would slack off and the other would act stubborn—no amount of training could change that.

Li Xuanba had just recovered from a serious illness, and without the energy to outwit the two eagle chicks, he simply left all their training to his second brother.

After he recovered, the chicks became even more attached to him—but also lazier and more mischievous.

For example, Li Xuanba reminded Hangu and Wudi to play dumb while at leisure and not to reveal their cleverness.

Hangu obediently pretended to be slow-witted, either playing on the grasslands or sleeping at home.

Wudi, on the other hand, thought: “Fine, I’ll play dumb!”

So he put on his little “shoes” that prevented him from scratching anyone, perched on Li Xuanba’s shoulder, and stuck out his tongue, pretending to be a simple-minded bird.

Looking at him, his eyes were big and blank, his body crooked, his head tilted—he looked anything but intelligent.

Whenever Li Xuanba sat down to talk with others, Wudi would casually slide from his shoulder into his lap.

Li Xuanba tried to stop him.

He had someone take Wudi away, but the eagle soon flew back.

To make matters worse, Li Shimin watched nearby, laughing, and didn’t help at all.

Soon, rumors spread among the envoys that Li Sanlang of the Duke Tang Mansion had raised a completely foolish bird—so docile it was gentler than a rooster.

Although no one really wanted to keep a foolish eagle, seeing how close it was to Li Xuanba, they began to whisper that Li Sanlang had been blessed by the spirits of the grasslands. The story went that the grassland spirits had entrusted him to raise this abandoned, simple-minded grassland creature.

These rumors didn’t come from Li Xuanba himself.

He had no idea how the envoys managed to weave such elaborate mythologies.

It was Ye Hu, dressed in the garb of a grassland noble for his audience with the emperor, who finally explained things to Li Xuanba.

“You learn languages too quickly,” Ye Hu said, tugging at his fur collar. “They were all intimidated by your knowledge and decided to give you divine protection. Ugh, why must I wear fur? Can’t I wear silk? In this scorching heat…”

Li Shimin said, “No choice. In the emperor’s eyes, Western nobles must wear fur and keep a large beard. Haha…your beard makes you look at least twenty years older!”

Ye Hu touched the new beard he had grown, grimacing. “Having a full beard really makes eating difficult. The oil from food gets trapped, and no matter how I wash it, it won’t come out.”

Li Shimin said, “Then you’ll need A-Xuan’s help. A-Xuan, do we still have the soap liquid?”

Li Xuanba replied, “Yes, all of it. We’re just waiting for the Western states to pay a hundredfold for it when they come to see His Majesty.”

Ye Hu was curious: “What is so valuable that people would pay a hundred times the price?”

Li Xuanba sighed: “I’m joking. At most, you could mark it up four or five times. Soap is scarce in the capital—if we actually charged a hundredfold, no one could afford it.”

Li Xuanba brought the soap and soap liquid and demonstrated their use to Ye Hu.

When Ye Hu heard the price, he said, “Li Sanlang, even at a hundred times the price, it’s affordable—just the price of a warhorse. Come on, how about a trade? I’ll give you a horse in exchange for your soap.”

Li Xuanba sighed. “If I could produce enough soap, I’d gladly work with you. The problem is, I don’t have enough to sell. If you go to Daxing city, you’ll see—even the high-ranking noble families are eagerly lining up to pre-order.”

Ye Hu said, “Hearing that, I want it even more.”

Li Xuanba handed him the soap and liquid on the table. “This was meant as a gift for you—take it.”

Ye Hu was surprised: “A gift?”

Li Shimin laughed: “Didn’t you give us a warhorse as a gift? No matter how precious, a gift is just a token of goodwill. To me, soap is just for washing hands, face, and hair. Having it is nice, not having it is fine. It’s only considered valuable because it’s hard to make. Use it as you wish. Next time, I’ll give you some more.”

Ye Hu felt uneasy.

When Western nobles gave gifts, it was often to gain attention from higher authorities. He wasn’t used to receiving valuable gifts from the Dà Sui nobles for free.

This made him treasure the friendship even more.

And to cherish friendship, one must learn to be “comfortable” in the give-and-take of gifts.

Ye Hu said, “Alright, since it’s a gift, I won’t refuse. But if there’s extra, let me help sell it. No one knows the tastes of the Western nobles better than I do—I can definitely sell it for a hundred times the price!”

Li Shimin laughed: “Very well. When we’re short on money, you can sell our goods. A-Xuan, you’d better make some rare items for Ye Hu to sell.”

Li Xuanba said, “Don’t worry. Ye Hu, although your customs don’t care about being addressed by name, why not give yourself a courtesy name while traveling in the Central Plains? That way I can introduce you to literary friends who won’t mind your background.”

Li Shimin explained the difference between a personal name and a courtesy name to Ye Hu: “You can call us Li Er, Li San, or even Daxiong and Dade.”

Ye Hu said, “We Westerners usually use Han names when traveling. Mine already sounds like a Han name, so I’m too lazy to change it. At home, I’m the youngest; following Han custom, should I be called Youzhi?”

Li Xuanba said, “Ye Hu, the courtesy name Youzhi sounds cultured. Here, I’ll lend you a basic poetry collection. Memorize it well.”

Li Shimin laughed: “Right, right—take a Han name, and now learn poetry too.”

Bearded Ye Hu covered his face, wincing: “Spare me.”

Li Shimin carried Ye Hu playfully: “No, you can’t be spared. Learn it—you don’t need to write amazing poems, just follow the rhythm.”

Li Xuanba said, “Don’t worry. Our poetry skills aren’t exceptional either; we won’t mock you.”

Ye Hu replied, “And you think I’ll believe that?”

Despite this, Ye Hu cheerfully tucked away the books Li Shimin and Li Xuanba had given him, enjoying them even more than the soap.

He had come into contact with so many people from the Central Plains—how could he not admire their poetry?

Now that Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were going to teach him to write poems, and later introduce him to their scholar friends, he was thrilled beyond words.

To gain such good friends, he didn’t even know which deity he had inadvertently helped.

The kings and envoys from the Western Regions gradually arrived in Zhangye. Pei Shiju also prepared temporary accommodations for Yang Guang.

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba waited for Yang Guang to arrive, and even more so, accompanying father bringing the family letters.

Finally, Yang Guang arrived—but he brought terrible news: the Crown Prince was seriously ill.

“Your Majesty, when preparing to cross the Dàdòu Bá Valley, the Crown Prince learned from the locals that the valley’s weather had been harsh recently, with extremely low temperatures, frequent strong winds, and hail. His Highness hoped Your Majesty would assess the situation before proceeding.”

“But Your Majesty did not believe it. How could it be cold in the height of summer in June? You did not want to delay the journey.”

“His Highness knelt before Your Majesty’s tent for over half a day, but Your Majesty insisted on going.”

“When crossing the Dàdòu Bá Valley, indeed, there were strong winds and hail. Fortunately, the Crown Prince had the palace women and soldiers bring thick clothing and also prepared hand warmers and fur cloaks for Your Majesty and the Empress, and warned the generals in advance, so the party barely survived. However… about ten percent of the guards froze to death.”

Li Yuan looked exhausted. “But the Crown Prince caught cold from kneeling for so long, and then caught cold again in the valley… sigh.”

Li Shimin and Li Xuanba were both silent.