Inside the Imperial City's Hanlin Academy, preparations to welcome the tribute-paying delegation from the Western Rong were in full swing.
The Minister of Rites and the President of the Hanlin Academy, together with the heads of various departments, readers of the Hanlin Academy, editors and other officials, each performed their duties to ensure that the reception and audience with the emperor of the Western Rong tribute delegation were foolproof.
From the welcoming ceremony outside the city, to the accommodation arrangements for the delegation, to the strict protection of the personnel, and to the compilation of various tedious documents, every link is crucial.
Jiang Lun, who had just taken office, was new to the job but he quickly became familiar with the affairs and is now adept and comfortable with organizing documents and compiling work.
Although the brush in his hand did not stop, his thoughts had already drifted to the Xingyuan Marquis Mansion. He could not help but start to imagine that his aunt and mother were proposing marriage in the Xue Mansion at this time, and he wondered what stage the proposal had reached.
"Sir Jiang, please take a look at this document." A gentle voice sounded in Jiang Lun's ears.
The speaker was Wang Shilun, a reviewer of the Hanlin Academy. He was from the same class as Jiang Lun, a second-class Jinshi, a native of Lucheng, and a few years older than Jiang Lun.
After graduating from high school, he brought his wife and children from his hometown to Beijing for a family reunion.
At this moment, what he handed over was a carefully revised and drafted imperial edict granting marriage, which clearly stated that Li Yunting was named Princess Xianning and was about to marry the Zuo Xian King of Xirong.
Wang Shilun's eyebrows showed a hint of surprise. He whispered, "I heard that the Western Rong Zuo Xian Wang is nearly seventy years old. If Princess Xianning hadn't acted so absurdly, how could she have ended up like this?"
Among the students who went to Qionglin Garden to petition His Majesty that day, Wang Shilun was one of them. He always held a contemptuous attitude towards Li Yunting's actions and believed that she had brought it entirely upon herself.
"However, we are powerless to save those who have passed away. We can only hope that Princess Xianning can contribute a little to the diplomatic relations between the two countries and avoid further disputes." Jiang Lun looked around and spoke cautiously in a low voice.
"I think it's difficult." Wang Shilun did not dare to look at this problem so optimistically, and said with pursed lips.
The officials in the court had mixed feelings about the Western Rong delegation's arrival in the capital, and they all felt a sense of unease in their hearts.
…
Ten miles away from the capital of the Great Zhou Dynasty, the Western Rong delegation was slowly heading towards the capital along the official road. They were all wearing riding boots and tall hats, which were unique to foreign countries. Their burly bodies and rough faces attracted the attention of the people on both sides of the road in the Great Zhou Dynasty.
In the team, Nurhadu's figure was particularly conspicuous. His tall body and eagle-like sharp eyes made him stand out from the crowd.
Along the way, he did not choose to ride a horse, but walked, and walked with the delegation on this long official road of the Great Zhou Dynasty.
The road is long and stretches from the frontier all the way to the green mountains and clear waters. With every step, he deeply feels the touch of this land, as if he is having a silent conversation with his mother's hometown.
He clearly remembered that his mother had a beautiful Chinese name - Qingfen, Zheng Qingfen.
Before her death, my mother's last wish was to return to Da Zhou, to her hometown that was once filled with memories of small bridges and flowing water.
However, this wish was ultimately not realized and became a lifelong regret for her.
And now, Nurhadu set foot on the land that his mother had longed for, which is also the hometown of his mother and grandfather.
During breaks along the way, the chief envoy of the delegation always respectfully prepared dry food and water for Nurhadu.
Those were perfectly sun-dried beef and crispy naan bread, which have been the staple food of the Xirong people for generations.
"Taiji, please move to the carriage and rest," the emissary suggested softly, "I will have the maid come and serve you."
Nurhaci raised his hand slightly to stop him, and the historian bowed and slowly retreated.
Taiji is a local honorific title for nobles, but he did not enjoy such courtesy since he was a child.
When his mother gave birth to him, she didn't even have a clean swaddling cloth and could only wrap him tightly in dried wild boar skin.
His father, the Left Wise King Zhahemu, named him Nurhadu after just a quick glance. This name means "wild boar skin" in the Xirong language.
With just this one sentence, everyone understood that his father didn't like him, and might even be a little unhappy with him.
Later, Anda, who raised him, told him that although his eyebrows and nose clearly inherited the bloodline of the Western Rong royal court, his skin color, which was whiter than that of local babies, silently showed that he had the blood of the Han people of the Great Zhou flowing in his body.
My mother lived together in a tent with the other wives and concubines of Zuo Xian Wang, or more precisely, the women who his father could call at any time.
The Xirong people made the grassland their home and led a nomadic life. As soon as the boys learned to walk, they would be taken out of the tent and start learning horse riding and archery. Nurhadu was no exception.
But his complexion was fairer than those of his brothers, who had rosy cheeks and dark skin, and this often gave them a reason to laugh at him, and they contemptuously called him a "Southern Barbarian."
This name echoed in my ears even more frequently than Nurhadu's name.
However, within a few years, Nurha found that the brothers who once laughed at him gradually disappeared from his sight.
Anda, who taught them horse riding and archery, said that these brothers were swallowed by a black bear.
"Do you want to get into a black bear's stomach?" Anda once asked him.
"No," Nurhadu answered firmly, "I want to eat them."
When he said this, he had just turned twelve years old, but he was already taller than a horse and could pull a bow of ten pounds. Then, during a hunting trip, he killed a black bear.
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