Chapter Thirty-Eight: Ashina

Li Zisheng let out a sharp laugh when he heard this. The little girl’s words were entirely correct, but he knew full well what was going on and had nothing to worry about.

So when he looked at her now, the gloom and unease in his heart somehow eased quite a bit.

The little girl wore an earnest expression.

“Rascal, what are you staring at? I’m talking to you.”

Li Zisheng smiled faintly. Looking at her, he felt unexpectedly light. He had long been trapped in schemes and intrigue, and was already quite weary; meeting such an innocent child was, in its way, a rare blessing.

The little girl noticed the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, and her face flushed a little. She called him a rascal again and again.

“You are quite right, young lady. I am burdened with worldly matters, and I have lacked the reverence needed to practice calligraphy. This is not the right time for it. It would be best to wait until my mind is calm before taking it up again.” Li Zisheng followed her lead and continued speaking.

The little girl was delighted. Her words had clearly reached him, and a look of understanding appeared on her tender face, making her seem especially lovely. Even Li Zisheng felt an urge to pinch her cheek.

“Rascal, what is your name?” the little girl asked in her soft, childish voice.

“My name is Li Zisheng. What is yours?” Li Zisheng asked in return.

The little girl seemed troubled and did not know how to answer.

“My father said I must never tell others my name lightly, or disaster will follow. Everyone who hears my name will be haunted by bad luck.” When she finished speaking, her face dimmed; one could tell from the change in her expression that she had suffered much because of this.

Li Zisheng did not believe in such things as being cursed by misfortune, but seeing her face, he could clearly sense that this little girl must have endured no small amount of hardship to become so guarded.

“Then all right. But I can’t keep calling you little girl forever. How about this: I give you a new name?” Li Zisheng felt a pang of pity for the child before him, and so he came up with a compromise.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” The little girl was visibly pleased. In a strange place, it was good to make a friend.

“The sky is blue, the water is green. I am writing on this great stone, and you have helped me solve a small problem. Writing returns to its source; learning characters returns to the origin. The beginning, the beginning—why not call you Beginning Ink?” After a moment’s thought, Li Zisheng came up with a name.

“Beginning Ink, Beginning Ink, Beginning Ink—how nice. It sounds lovely. Then I’ll be called Beginning Ink.” The little girl beamed, delighted to have a new name.

“And where are you from?” Li Zisheng asked, assuming this should no longer be a taboo.

“I... I... I am with the Turkic embassy that has come this time to take the examinations.” She spoke somewhat haltingly, as though there were something difficult she could not bring herself to say. Though unwilling, she answered. Yet Li Zisheng could clearly see from the changes in her eyes that she was still hiding something.

But Li Zisheng was not a cruel man. There was truly no need to force a little girl, so he decided not to press further.

“Rascal, I still have things to do, so I must go. It’s almost noon, and I need to go back for my medicine. But I can tell you my family name. My father said that if I meet a true friend, then it may be told. My family name is Ashina.”

At that moment, the girl’s complexion was clearly a little pale, no longer as rosy and bright as before.

Li Zisheng noticed the change in her. At first he thought she might simply not have adapted to the riverside climate here by the Yellow River, but from her own words it was obvious that she was already accustomed to taking medicine for illness in her daily life.

Ashina? Ashina?

Li Zisheng thought carefully to himself.

The Ashina clan of the Turks—anciently, they were the northern branch of the Xiongnu. Dwelling south of the Golden Mountains, they had submitted to the Rouran, and their line had multiplied and flourished. By the time of Tumen they had grown strong, adopted the title of Khagan, like the Chanyu before them, and their consort was called the Khatun. Their lands touched the sea on three sides and reached the great desert to the south. Among their subordinate tribal commanders were those called she, their sons and younger kinsmen were called tegin, the ministers were called yabghu, and there were also titles such as chuluo, apa, sili fa, tutun, sijin, yanhongda, jieli fa, and dagan—twenty-eight ranks in all. All held hereditary office without fixed number. The guards were called fuli. The Khagan established his court at the Dujin Mountains, set up the golden wolf-headed banner before the tent gate, and sat facing east as usual.

A thought flashed through his mind. Combined with the little girl’s Turkic identity, she was very likely a noble of the Turks.

Yet this little girl clearly still looked like someone of Tang descent.

Before Li Zisheng could ponder the reason, another passage suddenly surfaced in his mind—one describing affairs between the Tang and the Turks.

In the third year of the reign period, envoys were sent to request a marriage alliance and to ask for a princess to be granted in marriage. Later, the King of Ping’en Commandery and the King of Yixing Commandery were ordered to appear in full ceremonial dress before the court.

Moju sent the great chieftain Yili Tanhan with a tribute of a thousand horses to express thanks for the promised marriage; afterward, the envoy was received with honor. When Zhongzong first ascended the throne, the Turks attacked Wusha. At that time, Sha Zha Zhongyi, the Grand Commander of the Lingwu Army, fought them and was defeated; tens of thousands died, and the captives then invaded Yuan and Hui, taking many warhorses. The emperor issued an order to break off the marriage alliance and offered a reward of a king’s rank and the office of General of the Imperial Guards to anyone who cut down Moju.

Moju killed the court envoy Zang Siyan, the Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial. The emperor ordered Zhang Rendan, General of the Left Guard of the Royal Camp, to serve as Grand Commander of the Shuofang Route and to garrison the frontier. The following year, three surrender cities were built beyond the river to block off the paths of invasion.

After a long time, Tang Xiujing was appointed to replace him in the garrison. When Ruizong first came to the throne, he again requested a marriage alliance, and the emperor ordered that the daughter of Prince Song, Chengqi, be taken as Princess Jingshan and married to him.

The little girl before him was not merely a noblewoman; she was very likely of royal blood within a Turkic tribe.

At that realization, Li Zisheng’s mind rang loudly, and a possibility emerged.

He had already learned from Mister Zhong that the purpose of the Turkic embassy’s visit this time, beyond exchanges in writing and martial skill, was above all to seek out his own teacher to treat an important figure among the delegation. That was their true objective.

And the little girl before him was clearly a Turk. More importantly, when he had just asked where she came from, her evasive reply only made that possibility far more likely.

His pity for the little girl surged to its peak.

“May I take your pulse?” Still, Li Zisheng knew his medical skill was limited. Although he knew many prescriptions, many of them required later methods of preparation; in the Tang Dynasty, with its crude equipment, the chance of carrying them out was nearly zero. So taking her pulse now was also a way of seeing whether he might solve her predicament. If he could, it would be the best of both worlds. If he could not, then even if the Turkic embassy ultimately failed in the examinations, he would still ask his teacher to save this pitiable little girl.