Chapter Fifteen: A Momentous Event

Although the Red Turban Army in Haozhou had formally established a state, complete with the Secretariat, Privy Council, and Censorate, in Liu Yi’s eyes, it was simply old wine in a new bottle; power and territory still spoke louder than any system. This so-called “founding of a new state” was nothing but a formality.

Huo Qiu, however, saw things differently. “Prime Minister Liu and Prime Minister Du have done quite well to reach this point. Back when I was in the so-called State of Chu, the situation was much the same. After all, everyone risked their lives to rebel and kill officials, wasn’t it all for the sake of food, drink, and pleasure?”

Haozhou itself lacked for nothing in the way of entertainment and comfort. Restaurants, taverns, butcher shops, brothels, and gambling dens abounded. Every few steps, one would find men and women, young and old, gathered to watch an opera or listen to a storyteller. Never mind that just a few dozen miles outside the city was the battlefield—the order within was remarkably well maintained.

To Huo Qiu, this was the life of an immortal. “I know days like these won’t last, but it’s already so much better than before. Back when I toiled on the farm, I worked from dawn to dusk, only to end up fleeing from creditors at the end of the year. At least now, I can enjoy a few carefree days!”

Liu Yi clapped him on the shoulder. “Once we take Chao Lake and cross the river, every day can be carefree! Anyway, if this makeshift regime in Haozhou keeps muddling along, sooner or later something big will happen—we need to pick up the pace!”

He spoke half in jest, but did not realize his words would so soon prove prophetic. Barely half an hour later, Huo Qiu hurried over with a flustered Wen Qing: “General, you were right! Something big is about to happen with this makeshift government in Haozhou!”

Liu Yi was startled. “What’s happened?”

Wen Qing produced a freshly copied imperial edict. “His Majesty has just issued this decree: Du Zundao is appointed Right Prime Minister; Sheng Wenyu, Left Prime Minister.”

Among the Mongols and Yuan dynasty, the right hand was honored above the left. Though all the rebel armies fought beneath the banner of “Restoring Song,” most Yuan institutions were retained. Liu Yi immediately grasped the implication. “Du Zundao is first, Sheng Wenyu second. Where does that leave Liu Futong? Why isn’t he Prime Minister?”

Huo Qiu grew even more anxious. “Liu Futong has been made Chancellor!”

Though, in theory, the Chancellor was also a prime ministerial rank, it was far beneath the position of Prime Minister.

According to the court arrangements of the Dragon-Phoenix regime, Lady Jin Hua’s previous title had been “Acting Chancellor of the Two-Huai Provinces under the False Chu,” simply because the Yuan system prescribed that a province usually had Chancellors and Vice Chancellors, with the post of Left Prime Minister reserved for exceptional circumstances, often for those overseeing a major strategic direction.

If Lady Jin Hua had been made Left Prime Minister, her rank would have been too high—even a demotion would still be excessive. Thus, the court, though wishing to honor her further, could only assign her the title of Chancellor.

But Liu Futong’s case was entirely different. Liu Yi could not fathom why the foremost figure among the Red Turbans had been made Chancellor rather than Prime Minister.

This was no small matter!

He quickly instructed, “No one panic yet. Perhaps there’s been a mistake in transmission, but let’s ready ourselves to head south early, just in case.”

Liu Yi knew full well that with the imperial edict already issued, a mistake was highly unlikely.

The festive atmosphere of Haozhou’s founding was soon replaced by tense uncertainty. Liu Chongkun and Du Yishan, both Commanders of a Thousand Households, brought two completely contradictory insider accounts.

Liu Chongkun, calm and collected, reassured them: “There’s no need to worry. My adoptive father requested the Chancellor’s office of his own accord. He believes winning decisive battles is more important than handling daily affairs. His Majesty and the Empress Dowager opposed him, but he persisted, so the court had no choice but to agree.”

According to Liu Chongkun, Liu Futong believed that, since they were still at war, defeating old foes like Chaghan and Li Siqi on the battlefield was paramount. If he became Prime Minister and was tied up with all the affairs of state, he could not personally command and win battles. Thus, he insisted on stepping back to be Chancellor.

Moreover, although Liu Futong had stepped back, his brother Liu Liu had obtained the crucial post of Privy Councilor, holding the most important military power.

Under the Jin-Yuan system, the Privy Council controlled the military, beyond the Secretariat’s reach. With Liu Liu as Privy Councilor, Liu Futong was unassailable. “Everyone, just go about your duties. It’s nothing more than a trivial matter.”

Du Yishan, however, offered a wholly different account: “Liu Futong wanted both the Right Prime Minister’s post and the Privy Council, but the court only has two hands—how could they both belong to him?”

The Prime Minister oversaw civil affairs, the Privy Council military. According to Kublai Khan, “The Secretariat is my left hand, the Privy Council my right, and the Censorate is my physician for both.” The two most important positions in the Dragon-Phoenix regime could not be monopolized by one man—even veterans like Sheng Wenyu objected.

Du Yishan claimed that the ministers repeatedly urged Liu Futong to consider the greater good, even offering him the Censorate as a compromise. But Liu Futong, in a fit of pique, declared, “If I can’t have both the Secretariat and Privy Council, I won’t be Prime Minister—just make me Chancellor.”

Though he threw down the gauntlet, the ministers, ever mindful of propriety, still reserved the Prime Minister’s office for him; should Liu Futong wish it, he could always return as Prime Minister of the Dragon-Phoenix Song.

But Du Yishan’s version was riddled with inconsistencies, even less plausible than Liu Chongkun’s. Then Lady Jin Hua, who had witnessed the court session herself, arrived with a third, far graver account: “It’s said this was the will of His Majesty and the Empress Dowager. Just moments before, Liu Futong was still adamant that both the Secretariat and Privy Council should remain with the Liu family, else he would only serve as Chancellor. The next instant, the imperial edict was issued, leaving Liu Futong no time to object.”

Liu Yi surmised there must be deeper intrigue, but regardless, the consequences would be far-reaching. “Sister Jin Hua, see if you can arrange for us to head south as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the greater the risk.”

Regardless of Liu Futong’s or Du Zundao’s talents, under their rule, Haozhou remained orderly, and the tens of thousands of Red Turbans of the Dragon-Phoenix Court were a formidable force. Though they had suffered repeated defeats at the hands of Chaghan, Li Siqi, and Dasibatu, unity would yet afford them a chance to restore China and change the fate of the world.

But now, a great rift had opened within the Dragon-Phoenix Court, and events were taking a sharp turn. Lady Jin Hua hefted her spear. “Had I known this would happen, I’d never have come to Haozhou. Let’s go straight to Chao Lake—with a spear in hand, there’s nowhere in the world we cannot go!”

For reasons he could not explain, Liu Yi felt his heart steadied the moment he saw Lady Jin Hua grasp her spear. “You are absolutely right. With a spear in hand, there’s nowhere in the world we cannot go. Let us go and meet with Liu Futong and Du Zundao together.”