MLMD -Chapter 218 First Meeting

Watching Bai Kai’s departing figure, Namuzhong pondered for a moment before turning his gaze toward the others. At this moment, everyone wore grave expressions; even the middle-aged noblewoman who had been shouting the loudest just moments ago lowered her head in silence.

Namuzhong smiled bitterly to himself and addressed the noblewoman: “Fujin Siqintu, among all the sisters, you are the most eloquent. Now, why don’t you share your thoughts?”

The late Lindanhan had married eight fujin in his lifetime, each no ordinary woman. Behind every one of them stood a strong tribal faction. Namuzhong, as the Grand Fujin, was first among the eight, while the woman called Siqintu was the Second Fujin, overseeing the Gaertu Men Wanhuaerduo clan. Her backing was significant, making her the second most powerful figure in the Chahar tribe after Namuzhong. Siqintu was usually known for her eloquence, but today’s events had left her dizzy, and for a moment, she could not speak.

“I…”

Siqintu hesitated. Though sharp-tongued by nature, he knew this was no trivial matter. A wrong word here could have severe consequences. The decision at hand concerned the life and death of the entire tribe—one misstep could mean annihilation for tens of thousands of people.

Seeing Siqintu falter, Namuzhong turned his attention to the other women.

“Sutai, what about you? And Bademao Boqi, Subahai, Wuyunna, Taisina—you all, speak up and share your opinions!”

At each name, one of the women would lift her head, only to lower it again. None were willing to voice an opinion.

Finally, Namuzhong grew impatient: “What’s the matter? Weren’t you all so talkative earlier? Why silent now? Siqintu, you go first!”

After mumbling for a long time, Siqintu steeled himself and said: “If you ask me, haven’t we already discussed this? If we submit to the Later Jin, they will naturally ensure our safety. The Ming army hasn’t even come this far in decades. Do you really believe the Ming army can protect us?”

“Sister Siqintu, do you trust the Jurchens so much?” a soft voice spoke from the side.

Siqintu turned to see Wuyunna, the Fujin overseeing the Arake Chuo Te Wanhuaerduo clan, also known as the Arake Chuo Te Fujin—a formidable figure in her own right.

Frowning, Siqintu replied sharply, “Wuyunna, what do you mean ‘trust the Jurchens’? The Jurchens have already unified most of Mongolia. Our Chahar tribe now has just over ten thousand households. If we do not submit, how can we stand against their armies? With just our six thousand or so warriors?”

“But what about the Ming? They’ve sent their army here. If we submit to the Jurchens, aren’t you afraid the Ming will retaliate against us?” Wuyunna, a petite but full-bodied woman, flushed as she spoke, her round face coloring with excitement.

“The Ming army?” Siqintu snorted lightly. “Even if they arrive, can they defeat the Jurchens? Even if they drive the Jurchens away, how long can they stay here? Two months? Two years?”

“They may not stay long, but I believe two months is enough for them to destroy our tribe several times over,” Wuyunna retorted.

“The Ming can destroy us, but so can the Jurchens. Compared to the Ming, I trust the Jurchens’ strength. Otherwise, the Ming wouldn’t have been invaded by the Jurchens so many times.”

Siqintu’s sharp tongue did not falter; the two continued to argue heatedly.

“Enough! I asked you to speak to hear your opinions, not to bicker!” Namuzhong slammed the arm of her chair with a loud thud, silencing them immediately.

Once Namuzhong’s anger flared, the two women sulked into silence.

Namuzhong then pointed to the other fujin: “And you! Don’t think staying silent will save you. Whether it’s the Ming or the Later Jin, our small Chahar tribe cannot provoke either. It’s time to choose a protector, and which one we align with is up to us.”

Her meaning was clear. The Chahar tribe was weak; survival required aligning with a stronger power. Whether it would be the Ming or the Later Jin, a choice had to be made. It seemed simple: choose correctly, and the tribe survives; choose wrong, and it means extinction. Brutal, but undeniable.

No one dared make the decision immediately, and the tent fell silent. Finally, the burly Bater spoke: “Grand Fujin, making this decision isn’t easy. In my view, we should wait until the Ming army arrives tomorrow. If they are strong and offer favorable terms, we submit to them. If their terms are poor, we submit to the Later Jin. That seems sensible, doesn’t it?”

“Hm… I think Bater is right.”
“Agreed. We’ll see the Ming army tomorrow. Besides, the Later Jin army won’t arrive for a few more days!”
“Exactly. Let’s wait and see; we can’t decide hastily.”

The surrounding fujin nodded in agreement. For now, they were like reeds in the wind, swaying toward whichever side seemed stronger—essentially, waiting to see which offer was best.

On the morning of the fifth day of the third lunar month, Namuzhong and the others summoned the tribe’s warriors at dawn. Most donned the ancestral armor, wielded well-maintained weapons, and rode their favorite steeds, forming a quiet line on the grass, awaiting the arrival of the Ming army.

Though it was spring, the grasslands remained chilly. North winds blew in gusts, carrying fine sand that stung their faces. People squinted against the biting wind.

Namuzhong still wore a white sable coat, her hair styled in the traditional hanging-braid fashion. Though her makeup was light, she had applied some rouge and powder from the Central Plains, adding a subtle elegance to her mature beauty. Behind her stood six other fujin and some Chahar tribal commanders.

The six thousand cavalry had been standing for some time, and many were growing restless, muttering under their breath. Luckily, lower-ranking officers shouted loudly enough to keep the formation orderly.

Namuzhong, lost in thought, did not notice. Even if she did, she wouldn’t have cared; her mind was far away, pondering:

Do the Ming really intend to help the Chahar? What if they make unreasonable demands once they arrive? Can they defeat the ferocious Jurchens?

As she pondered, a few Mongol riders came galloping toward them at full speed. Soon they arrived and dismounted, gasping: “Respected Grand Fujin, the forces of the Ming… they… they are here!”

At the riders’ words, the group saw a mass of soldiers approaching from the west. Though the banners were unclear from a distance, Namuzhong felt an imposing aura emanating from them.

Gradually, the army drew closer. Namuzhong could now discern that the vanguard was a cavalry unit, identical in appearance to the Ming cavalry spotted yesterday. When the unit came within about five hundred steps of the Mongols, they halted.

The cavalry quickly split into two ranks, standing in perfect formation. Soon after, waves of infantry approached, forming precise square formations. Within less than a quarter-hour, the soldiers had arranged into multiple battle squares, all facing the Mongols silently.

“Wow… the Ming army is impressive. Their presence alone commands respect!”

Namuzhong inhaled sharply. Growing up on the grasslands, she had seen many armies and could judge a unit’s prowess. Though the formation seemed simple, an undeniable aura radiated from them—like a tiger eyeing its prey. Even if the tiger bore no hostility, its innate ferocity was unmistakable.

After a long silence, Namuzhong turned to the one behind her: “Bater, how do you think this Ming force compares to the Jurchens?”

Bater paused, then replied quietly: “Reporting, Grand Fujin, I don’t really know. Their marching formations are better than the Later Jin’s, but a well-ordered formation doesn’t guarantee victory. Ultimately, it’s the commanders’ strategy and the soldiers’ courage that determine the outcome.”

“Oh…” Namuzhong nodded, saying no more.

In truth, out of pride, Bater had not told the whole truth. A disciplined army’s soldiers naturally possess courage—but Bater would never admit that outright, for it would belittle the warriors of their own tribe.