The Records Of The Human Emperor Chapter 1190

Chapter 1190: Dalon Trinling

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Bahram spoke at this moment. "General, I know that this request is a little rude. Learning a language requires a great deal of time, energy, and money, and we will need to use General's resources, but in terms of money, we can take on all the expenses."

The Great Tang had already lost many people in its effort to assist the Khorasani and rebels against Arabia. To make such a request at a time like this was somewhat unreasonable, but Bahram had to make this request.

"Hahaha, Great General Bahram, you've misunderstood!"

Wang Chong finally got up from his seat and then turned to Gao Xianzhi.

"Lord Protector-General, are you still worried about the problem of language?"

Gao Xianzhi said nothing, only glanced at Bahram's confused group, a complicated expression on his face.

Wang Chong silently smiled. In this coalition, the Khorasani and rebels depended on the Great Tang far more than the Great Tang depended on the Khorasani and rebels. While Gao Xianzhi was fretting over the language barrier, the Khorasani and rebels had been even more concerned.

"Great General Bahram, fellow commanders, be at ease. I can agree to this matter right here without any problem. Very soon, we will use all kinds of methods to set up Tang language classes in Khorasan and elsewhere as quickly as possible," Wang Chong said with a smile.


They had originally believed that there was little hope of this request being accepted, and they were now overjoyed to hear this news.


"Many thanks, General, many thanks!"

All the members of the group were elated. The matter of teaching the Han language—or perhaps one could say 'the Tang language'—was progressing much more quickly and smoothly than Wang Chong had expected. After experiencing the power of the Great Tang, the rebel armies had a craving to understand its language. Wang Chong immediately called over Yuan Shusong and had him handle the specifics with Gao Xianzhi.

By the time Wang Chong emerged from the conference hall, the blizzard had come to a complete stop. As he gazed up at the gradually clearing skies, his mind was abuzz with thought. For some reason, he was suddenly thinking about Xu Qiqin in the distant Qixi.

I wonder how Qiqin is doing? Wang Chong quietly said to himself.

For the matter of administering Khorasan, Wang Chong had written letters to Feng Changqing, the various great clans, and also Xu Qiqin, but for some reason, Xu Qiqin had never replied, though the train of supplies had never stopped. Such a situation had never happened before, and Wang Chong couldn't help but worry.

I hope that Qiqin is okay.

Wang Chong thought for a few moments and then quickly went to his study. Flapflap! A few moments later, a messenger bird flew into the air and vanished to the northeast.


In the distant Qixi, snow covered the land, and in a house at the northwest corner, the winter plum blossoms had bloomed, exuding a pure fragrance into the air. Behind the plum blossoms, a white-clothed girl, her face showing faint signs of illness, was leaning on an open window and taking in the fragrance.

"Young Lady, let's keep the window shut. The weather is cold and your body is still weak. You should hurry and get some rest." The voice of a maid came from behind her, tinged with both concern and worry.

"There's no rush." Xu Qiqin waved a much-thinner finger. "I can still hold on, and I rarely get a chance to breathe some fresh air. Just let me watch a little longer."

"Girl, stop trying to persuade her." The voice of a middle-aged woman came from the rear, tinged with a hint of warmth. "Your young lady has spent so much time inside, and now her condition has improved and she's even willing to open the window and get some fresh air. Just let her be. In at most five minutes, we can come back to close the window.

"Come, Lady Xu; I've cooked you some ginger soup. Drink while it's still hot. It will cool down soon."

At these words, a middle-aged woman dressed in simple clothes, appearing to be the very model of a traditional wife, walked over to the window and offered a bowl of ginger soup to Xu Qiqin.

"Madam Feng, thank you."

Xu Qiqin turned her head and gratefully took the soup.

Madam Feng was naturally the wife of one of the Twin Walls of the Empire, Feng Changqing. While Wang Chong and Gao Xianzhi were battling on the front lines, all the matters in the rear, including logistics and resupply, had been left for Xu Qiqin and Feng Changqing. Xu Qiqin had succeeded in hiding her serious illness from others, but she had failed to do so from the ever-meticulous Feng Changqing.

The moment he learned that Xu Qiqin was seriously ill, Feng Changqing had immediately dispatched his wife and several famed doctors of the Western Regions to the Qixi Protectorate headquarters to take care of Xu Qiqin. The methods of those doctors and the care of Madam Feng had allowed Xu Qiqin to overcome this trial.

Although she had not completely recovered, her condition had greatly improved.

Once she saw Xu Qiqin completely finish the bowl of ginger soup, Madam Feng finally relaxed. But then she remembered something and said, "Lady Xu, in truth, was this really necessary? Even now, you have not permitted the Young Marquis to know of your illness. But if you told him, I'm confident that he would quickly return to Qixi."

"That's exactly what I don't want."

Xu Qiqin shook her head and gazed vacantly at the crimson plum blossoms outside her window.

"No matter how many burdens a woman has, nothing is more important than the matters of state. Wang Chong and Lord Gao are fighting on the front lines with their lives on the line. I don't want their attention to stray because of me."

"But, shouldn't you at least have replied to his letter?" Madam Feng said, her eyes focusing on the letter Xu Qiqin was gripping in her hand. This was a letter that Wang Chong had sent not too long ago from Khorasan. She could sense that Xu Qiqin liked Wang Chong, but for some reason, she was suppressing her emotions so much that she wasn't even willing to write a reply.

Xu Qiqin shook her head.

"Wang Chong recognizes my handwriting. If I reply, he would be able to recognize from my handwriting that I am down with an illness. At that moment, all my previous efforts would have been in vain."

Madam Feng was stunned and speechless. She only knew that Xu Qiqin was unwilling to write a reply, never imagining that she had such considerations in mind.


Madam Feng couldn't help but sigh as she gazed at Xu Qiqin's pale yet stubborn face.

Three people stood silently in the room, and all was quiet.

As Xu Qiqin vacantly gazed out the window, the flapping of wings came from the distance. Xu Qiqin looked up and saw a white messenger bird streaking through the sky, quickly descending in front of her window.

Madam Feng and the maid Little Zhu also looked over and immediately noticed the golden insignia on the bird's right leg.

It was a letter from the Young Marquis!

The two of them instantly recognized the insignia. They had been at Xu Qiqin's side long enough to recognize the messenger bird that Wang Chong used to send his letters.

Xu Qiqin had also clearly recognized it, and as the bird perched on her arm, her face blushed.


The distant Tibetan Plateau was covered in a mantle of white. From Khorasan to Samarkand, to Anxi, Qixi, and all the way to the Central Plains, the world was celebrating a major victory. But at this moment, the Tibetan Plateau was immersed in a heavy and sorrowful mood.

The storm had not completely dissipated, and wisps of icy wind drifted through the world like snapped strings of pearls.

In the middle of this snowstorm, the most revered Imperial Minister of the Ü-Tsang Empire, Dalon Trinling, wore a white fur coat and an expression of grief. At his side, countless guards of the royal capital gripped their spears and halberds, and even the supreme existence of the plateau who rarely left his royal palace, the Tsenpo, stood at his side.

To the entire Ü-Tsang Empire, this was foreordained to be a most important day. It was not because of that harsh blizzard and extreme cold that had killed countless sheep and cattle, but because of those several figures lying on a brown mat laid out across the frozen ground.

Dalun Ruozan, Huoshu Huicang, and Dusong Mangpoje—this was the most grievous loss the empire had ever experienced. In a single war, one minister and two generals had been lost. At this moment, the corpses of these three important individuals had finally arrived at the royal capital of Ü-Tsang.

"Ruozan, why did it have to be like this?"

Dalon Trinling slowly walked over and kneeled next to Dalun Ruozan's body, his face stricken with grief.

"You privately mobilized the Mutri Great Cavalry, borrowed soldiers from the Yarlung Royal Lineage, got in touch with Dusong Mangpoje… Did you really think that I knew nothing? Without my approval, do you really think that you could have taken away so many soldiers? Why did you have to be such a fool? How could the Tsenpo and I possibly blame you?"

Dalon Trinling felt his heart trembling as he stared at that pale and bloodless face, its eyes tightly shut. He had administered the empire for ten-some years, and at the age of twelve, he had begun to command armies to do battle with the Great Tang. Never in his career had Dalon Trinling's heart even rippled, but at this moment, great waves were raging. He had lost all of his former serenity.

At this moment, a voice rang out in his ears. "Imperial Minister, you must avenge Great Minister and the generals!"

Huoba Sangye, his eyes scarlet and his teeth clenched, had crawled up to Dalon Trinling's side on his knees, his face brimming with sorrow and fury.

"Great Minister and the generals died tragic deaths. No matter what, we must have the Tang pay a price."


Before Huoba Sangye could finish speaking, a fierce slap struck his face, the enormous force immediately causing half of his face to swell.

"Imperial Minister!"

Huoba Sangye gripped his swollen cheek, dumbstruck by Dalon Trinling's slap.

"Bastard! If not for your willfulness, would the Mutri Great Cavalry have suffered such heavy losses? As the commander of the royal capital, you didn't even wait for a decree from me or the Tsenpo to take your troops away! Does the Tsenpo still even exist in your eyes! Huoshu Huicang and Dusong Mangpoje are understandable, but Dalun Ruozan was just a civil minister. Defeat is understandable, but could you not even bring back a single civil minister?!"

Dalon Trinling stared at Huoba Sangye, his face ashen. An army of more than one hundred thousand elites had set out, but in the end, Huoba Sangye alone had come back. If not for the fact that the Ü-Tsang Empire was weak from consecutive defeats and in dire need of manpower, he would have already been executed.