Chapter Seventy-Six: Child’s Play

However, kneeling like this couldn’t continue forever. Master Dahong hesitated for a moment before finally breaking the heavy silence in the room—not to plead for Yang Jun and Zhao Mei, but instead, he turned to Yang Hong and said, “Has the matter of your ennoblement been settled? With the Prince’s approval, the day you are granted your title is surely near at hand. Allow me to offer my congratulations in advance, General.”

At these words, Yang Hong’s furrowed brow smoothed, and he nodded with a faint smile. Master Dahong’s words truly touched his heart. He was already sixty-six years old, his official rank was high enough, yet he had sat in the position of Left Governor for several years without further advancement, and with not many good years left, his lifelong wish was simply to be ennobled. He had only ever resented that Wang Zhen persistently slandered him in the emperor’s ear, blocking his way. Now, with the Prince willing to lend his support, Wang Zhen would hardly dare to oppose the Prince’s wishes. The present emperor valued fraternal bonds deeply and was exceptionally affectionate toward his brother, the Prince; otherwise, he would not have appointed him regent during the imperial campaign. Thus, as long as the Prince spoke on his behalf, the emperor would surely grant his request. His ennoblement was as certain as nails driven into wood; at last, his lifelong hope would be fulfilled.

To master both the civil and martial arts, to serve the imperial house—that is a true man’s ambition. And what greater reward could a man hope for than a noble title to bring prosperity to his family?

Yang Hong’s heart was at ease, and he was thoroughly satisfied with the prospect of a barony through the Prince’s intercession. After decades of loyal service to the court, he could finally secure a barony for the Yang family. Even at nearly seventy, he could not help but feel a surge of excitement.

Kneeling below, however, Yang Jun was far less moved than his father. In fact, he looked down upon a mere barony. After wrestling with his thoughts for a moment, he suddenly raised his head and cried out to his father, “It’s nothing but a non-hereditary barony! How can that possibly reward your merits? In my view, the court ought to grant you a hereditary marquisate at the very least! A mere barony—how cold and stingy!”

“Insolent wretch!”

At his eldest son’s words, Yang Hong flew into a rage, leaping to his feet and pointing at Yang Jun, berating him: “I am more than content with a barony; how dare I covet a marquisate! Since the founding of our Ming Dynasty by the Taizu Emperor, apart from the chief founding ministers and those ennobled for supporting the throne, how many others have been granted noble titles? Though this is a non-hereditary barony, it is enough to make countless men envious! How dare you complain, you unfilial son? Do you begrudge the Yang family’s rising fortune, or despise me for not winning you a hereditary title to inherit? Do you mean to anger me to death?”

“I would not dare!”

Seeing his father’s beard bristling with fury, Yang Jun hurriedly lowered his head, not daring to provoke him further. Still, in his heart, he could not understand why the old man was so excited over a mere non-hereditary barony.

Zhao Mei, at his side, silently cursed Yang Jun for his lack of tact. How could he choose this moment to provoke the old master? Was he truly set on enraging him? Did he not realize that the sword of punishment still hung over both their heads? Had this been twenty years earlier, the old master would long since have dealt with them according to military law.

Thinking of the affair at Dushibao, Zhao Mei seethed with suppressed anger. Had Yang Jun not failed to control his Tartar troops, how could such a disaster have occurred? If Wanquan Garrison had not fallen into chaos, how would Kaiping’s defenses have crumbled? Now, Alatan’s forces swept in unhindered; most of the eastern and northern parts of Xuanfu had already fallen, the losses incalculable. Even worse, after joining with two other raiding parties, Alatan seemed poised to march on Huailai. Should he threaten Juyong Pass and alarm the capital, Zhao Mei’s head would surely be forfeit.

What truly infuriated him was that Yang Jun had abandoned him, fleeing with his own men and leaving his sworn brother behind in Dushibao without a trace of loyalty. If he hadn’t reacted quickly, he would have been surrounded and captured by the Oirat Mongols.

Yet, as an adopted son, Zhao Mei could never compare to Yang Jun, the true-born heir, in Yang Hong’s eyes. No matter how close their bond, Zhao Mei dared not show his resentment. He understood that only Yang Hong could now save his career and his life, so he could only kneel there meekly and await the old master’s judgment.

Seeing Yang Hong’s anger flare again, Master Dahong feared for his health and quickly tried to calm him: “General, please restrain your anger. Your son spoke without thinking; you must not take it to heart.”

“Hmph!”

Yang Hong might show no deference to others, but he would always give face to Master Dahong. Not for any other reason, but because they had once fought side by side in the army as sworn brothers. Later, weary of bloodshed, Dahong had changed his ways and entered the Buddhist order, eventually becoming abbot of Lihua Temple, while Yang Hong became a regional commander of the frontier. Their diverging fates truly gave one pause.

Forcing himself to calm down, Yang Hong sat down again. Master Dahong glanced at Yang Jun and Zhao Mei, then continued, “If I may say so, the young master’s words are not entirely wrong.”

Yang Hong was taken aback. “Why do you say that, Master?”

With a serious look, Dahong replied, “For merits such as yours, a mere non-hereditary barony does seem somewhat ungenerous.” As he spoke, he reverted to addressing him as “brother.”

“Second Brother, you...”

Yang Hong had not expected Dahong to share this opinion and was left momentarily speechless.

Dahong, knowing his brother’s character, did not press the point, but sighed and changed the subject, “Has there been any official word from the capital?”

Yang Hong shook his head. “No official reply, but Yu Qian did send me a private letter.”

“Oh, Yu Qian?” Dahong was surprised. “Isn’t he notorious for looking down on us military men? Why would he write to you? What did he say?”

Yang Hong replied, “Not much, just that with the emperor leading the campaign in person, the army defending Xuanfu’s flanks must not falter.”

Dahong hesitated. “Did you report Alatan’s movements truthfully?”

Yang Hong glanced at the kneeling Yang Jun and Zhao Mei, and gave a bitter laugh. “If I told the truth, do you think these two wretches would still be alive?”

“Then what do you intend to do? The loss of Dushibao can’t be hidden for long,” Dahong said anxiously.

Yang Hong did not hide his intentions. “I plan to personally lead the army against Alatan and drive him from Xuanfu.”

Dahong was shocked. “But didn’t His Majesty order you to accompany him westward and await instructions at court?”

Yang Hong waved his hand. “That’s changed. I am to remain at my post.”

“Changed again?” Dahong frowned in clear displeasure. “First, before the imperial army reached Xuanfu, you were told to defend Yanghe Pass. After the emperor arrived, you were to serve as a palace guard. Once he reached Datong, you were ordered back to your post. These constant changes—what is the purpose? This emperor is far too muddled!”

“Second Brother, mind your words!”

“We’re all family here; what’s there to fear? If I were my old self, I’d have cursed that young, incompetent emperor to his face! How can you command an army with such ever-changing orders? This is no way to run a campaign!”

“What’s done is done; there’s no point discussing it. For now, driving out Alatan is the priority.” With that, Yang Hong stood and looked to Yang Jun and Zhao Mei, saying, “The two of you will leave the city after nightfall. Tomorrow, I will lead the army eastward. Mind yourselves—if you make another mistake, not even I can protect you!”

“Yes, Father!”

Yang Jun and Zhao Mei kowtowed together, both feeling as if a great weight had finally been lifted from their hearts.

...

Author’s note: In the Ming Dynasty, noble titles were divided into two types: one granted for life only (non-hereditary), and one that could be inherited (hereditary). Whether a title was hereditary or not depended on the magnitude of military achievement; both types were accompanied by official patents.