Torturing Tuoba Hong
It was already late autumn in the first year of Taichu.
The leaves of the sycamore trees in the palace gardens have almost all fallen, leaving only some stubborn yellow ones still hanging on the branches.
Ning Lingyi raised her head from a pile of petitions and rubbed her sore brows.
She was stunned for a moment, then suddenly seemed to remember something and asked Su Qingfan, who was standing beside her: "Where is the Tuoba Khan of Beishuo now?"
Su Qingfan was slightly startled, then replied, "Your Majesty, I have been under house arrest in the Guantian Pavilion in the Western Garden outside the palace. As Your Majesty instructed, I have all the necessary supplies, but I am not allowed to leave."
"Oh." Ning Lingyi responded lightly, her eyes returned to the memorial, but the red pen did not move for a long time.
After a long while, she put down her pen and said, "Send him in."
*
Tuoba Hong was led by the eunuchs through the palace and entered the Minyou Hall. The hall was brightly lit and he saw the figure sitting behind the imperial desk at a glance.
She was wearing casual clothes, not the complicated robes as he had imagined. She wore a heavy crown on her head, and her black hair was tied up with a simple jade hairpin. She was reviewing memorials with her head down. Her profile was a little blurry under the light, which added a bit of majesty to her.
The eunuch quietly retreated, and only the two of them were left in the hall.
Tuoba Hong just stood there, neither moving nor speaking.
He looked at her, the woman who had been entangled with him for half his life, the woman who made him admire, fear, and scheme against her, but ultimately defeated, was now so close to him, yet there was a chasm between them that determined victory and defeat.
Familiar, yet extremely strange.
Finally, Ning Lingyi finished reviewing the last memorial in her hand, gently placed the red pen on the pen holder, then raised her head and her eyes fell on him, calm and unperturbed, as if she was looking at an ordinary object.
"Khan," she began, "It's been a long time since we last met. You're still as charming as ever."
Tuoba Hong curled his lips and said, "Your Majesty, you are joking. A prisoner is like a piece of rotten wood, how can he talk about elegance?"
Ning Lingyi nodded slightly, unconcerned with the sting in his words, and continued, "The Khan's cavalry have marched south over the years, slaughtering our cities and killing our people. I'll always remember this."
Tuoba Hong met her gaze without dodging it. "Even if I, Beishuo, don't come, in a few years, when you have recuperated and strengthened your army, won't you march north and destroy my royal court?"
"Ning Lingyi, when nations fight and expand their territories, there's no right or wrong, only strength and weakness. Strength and weakness vary, and disputes are bound to arise. You understand this principle perfectly."
There was silence in the hall for a moment.
Ning Lingyi nodded, her tone remaining calm. "Even so, even if I will go north in the future, you, Khan, and the soldiers under your command whose hands are stained with the blood of the soldiers and civilians of the New Dynasty, still deserve to die. I will still kill you."
She said it lightly, as if stating a fact.
Tuoba Hong's heart trembled, but his expression remained calm: "You won't."
"Oh?" Ning Lingyi raised an eyebrow, seeming to be interested. "Why?"
"I can be of use to you."
Tuoba Hong said firmly, "Although Beishuo was defeated and ceded territory in exchange for peace, the various tribes in Mobei still exist. With your heart, Ning Lingyi, how could you allow others to snore beside your bed? How could you tolerate this?"
"Look at the imperial decree you issued upon ascending the throne. It declared that there would no longer be a north-south divide in the world. Doesn't that mean you've already considered the vast grasslands of Beishuo to be yours, your future territory?"
He paused, watching Ning Lingyi's slightly changing expression, and continued, "In that case, I, the former Great Khan of Beishuo, will be of great use to you. I'll be a banner for recruiting defectors, a pretext for appeasing your old subordinates, and a great move for you to win over the hearts of the people on the grasslands without bloodshed in the future. Killing me will only give you temporary pleasure, but keeping me will bring you endless benefits."
Ning Lingyi listened quietly. Finally, the corners of her lips curved slightly. "The Khan is intelligent and sees things clearly. It seems that the Khan has agreed to serve me?"
Tuoba Hong slowly shook his head, his tone carrying the last bit of pride of a grassland lord: "Why should I betray my own race and go against the grassland that gave birth to me and raised me for your great cause?"
"Well said." Ning Lingyi nodded again, not angry. "Khan certainly wouldn't do that. So, Khan, do you know why you lost this time? You lost so completely, even your life and property are in my hands?"
Tuoba Hong was silent.
Why did he lose?
Was it because of the mysterious thunderbolts of the Xin Dynasty? Was it because of Ning Lingyi's masterful military tactics and solid logistics? Was it because of his betrayal? Or was there something deeper at play...
Ning Lingyi looked at his uncertain expression and said softly, "It seems that you may not be unaware of this, but you just don't want to think about it too deeply, or you don't want to admit it."
She stopped asking questions and said loudly, "Someone come."
The eunuch came in in response.
"I have ordered that Tuoba Khan be moved to the Imperial Farm in the west of the capital, and that he be given two acres of thin land and a thatched cottage. From this day forward, all his food, clothing, and daily expenses must be earned through his own farming. The servants in the farm are not allowed to help him. If they do not help, they will starve."
The eunuch took his orders, but Tuoba Hong looked up in astonishment at Ning Lingyi, his eyes filled with confusion. "What does your Majesty mean by this? Do you think you can convince me and make me serve you willingly?"
Ning Lingyi suddenly smiled upon hearing this. There was something inexplicably ambiguous in that smile, like a joke, yet also very complicated: "I'm not that naive. I just... want to torture you."
*
Guitianyuan in the west of Beijing is where Ning Lingyi occasionally stays to experience farming. It has thousands of acres of fertile land and one or two ponds, and the scenery is quite quiet.
But for Tuoba Hong, the difference between the golden tent of the Mobei royal court and the thatched cottage of the Xin Dynasty imperial farm was so huge that it was already a torture.
Autumn is the time to sow winter wheat.
The head of the village sent a taciturn old farmer to teach him.
The old farmer's dark face was full of wrinkles. He said little and only demonstrated how to plow the soil, make ridges, plant seeds and cover the soil.
Tuoba Hong grew up on horseback. Drawing the bow and shooting eagles were his instincts. How could he have ever fiddled with hoes and plowshares?
At first he was reluctant, thinking it was a great humiliation, and would rather starve.
For the first two days, he didn't eat or drink a drop of water and relied on his past strength to hold on. On the third day, his stomach was burning with hunger, and he felt dizzy and dazed. Looking at the brown land, he finally gritted his teeth and picked up the hoe, which was many times heavier than the golden knife in his hand.
His movements were extremely clumsy, and soon he was sweating profusely. Blisters formed on his palms, causing burning pain.
The old farmer watched from the side, occasionally giving a word or two of advice.
"Young man, this is not how you use your strength."
"Keep your waist low and use the force."
Ning Lingyi comes occasionally.
Sometimes she would change into cloth clothes that were convenient for movement and work in the fields herself for a while, but more often, she would have people move tables and chairs to the edge of the field, spread out the memorials, and review them in the thin autumn sunlight while watching him struggling and busy in the fields.
"Your Majesty, do you really have to do this?" Once, Tuoba Hong finally couldn't help it, stopped what he was doing, and asked her from a distance.
Sweat slid down his angular cheeks and dripped into the soil.
Ning Lingyi raised her head from the memorial and calmly scanned his bewildered appearance. "Tuoba Khan, as a defeated general and a captive of a fallen nation, your current treatment far exceeds ancient conventions."
"I never made you wear a sheepskin coat or a felt hat, or suffer the humiliation of leading a sheep. Nor did I imprison you in darkness. I simply allowed you to earn your own living and experience the most ordinary livelihood of the people of my new dynasty. What else do you want?"
She paused, and the corner of her lips curled up again with the faint smile that made Tuoba Hong angry: "If the Khan is determined to seek humiliation and feels that this is not enough, I can satisfy you at any time."
Tuoba Hong clenched the hoe handle in his hand, but could only take a deep breath, lower his head again, and continue farming.
He understood that the anger of the weak was meaningless.
It will only make this woman more of a laughing stock.
The days passed by little by little in such a silent confrontation.
As autumn turned to winter, all things died. He learned to cover the wheat seedlings with grass to prevent them from freezing. As winter ended and spring arrived, he began to learn new farm work under the guidance of an old farmer.
At the end of summer the following year, the two acres of wheat he had planted with his own hands finally arrived at the harvest season.
Looking at the golden wheat ears that were not very fertile but were definitely watered by his sweat, Tuoba Hong felt an extremely complicated emotion in his heart, neither happy nor sad, but a strange feeling that he had never experienced before.
The head of the village followed Ning Lingyi's instructions and asked him to take the harvested wheat to the nearby market to sell.
This was the first time he had walked out of the imperial farm in several months. Looking at the people coming and going in the market and listening to the familiar hawking sounds, he was actually in a trance for a moment.
He clumsily imitated others and guarded his grain bag, and finally exchanged it for a few strings of heavy copper coins.
Holding the rough string of money, a sense of accomplishment that comes from creation rather than plunder is quietly born.
Just as he was taking the money and preparing to buy some things to take back, a few thugs with ruffian looks surrounded him, snatched his wallet without saying a word, pushed him to the ground, and beat him up.
When had Tuoba Hong ever been humiliated like this? If it were in the past, he would have already gone berserk and killed someone.
But at this moment, he had been imprisoned for a long time, his body was no longer as brave as before, and he was hungry. He was beaten by a few thugs and had no power to fight back. He could only protect his vital parts and watch his hard-earned coins being robbed.
The group of people walked away, leaving him slumped in the dust, his clothes torn and blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.
The crowd around looked on indifferently, pointing and talking, but no one stepped forward.
An unprecedented feeling of humiliation and anger almost overwhelmed his sanity.
He was not doing it for those few strings of money, but for this entire absurd situation. He, Tuoba Hong, the man who once made the entire Mobei and Xin Dynasty tremble, was now being trampled upon by a few street scoundrels like the most lowly ant!
He punched the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, and was so angry that he almost vomited blood.
Ning Lingyi, Ning Lingyi! It must be you!
In the distance, in an inconspicuous carriage, someone gently lowered the curtain.
Ning Lingyi in the car withdrew her gaze and said to the guard beside her calmly: "Return to the palace."
Tuoba Hong, how does it feel to have your hard-earned money stolen?
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