Chapter 344: The Death of a Great General

In the Damascus palace, within the hall adorned with carpets, thousands of various carpets hung throughout the palace—twenty-two thousand in total—creating a magnificent sight. Mansur stared blankly at a few carpets hanging on the front wall. They were brilliantly colored and exquisitely crafted, supplied by the finest Persian artisans. Yet Mansur’s eyes saw nothing; in fact, he wasn’t really looking. Everything was so familiar—something he had witnessed day after day for years. He could even accurately describe the pattern and location of each carpet. But now, they seemed utterly strange, so strange that he couldn’t even tell what was hanging before him. The carpets hadn’t changed; it was the person looking at them who had. Once, he had been a subject, appreciating these exquisite artworks from the perspective of a viewer. Now, he was the master of this palace, the owner of these carpets, as well as the entire palace and the entire empire—all belonging to him, Mansur. Half a month had passed since he ascended to this supreme throne, yet he still hadn’t fully adapted. When alone, he would feel lost, wondering how to govern this empire.
“Your Majesty the Caliph!”
A black eunuch quietly interrupted his thoughts. “Khalid has arrived and is waiting outside the palace.”
Mansur snapped out of his reverie and immediately ordered, “Send him to the Map Palace!”
Khalid was Khalid al-Barmaki, the eldest son of the prominent Persian Barmaki family. Over the past two years, he had been highly favored and appointed as the empire’s chief finance minister, in charge of its financial affairs. His relationship with Mansur was very close—Mansur’s eldest son, Mahdi, was even breastfed by Khalid’s wife. After Mansur ascended to the throne, Khalid became the top candidate to become vizier. Khalid passed through the numerous palace gates and was led into a palace adorned with a huge map covering the entire Abbasid Empire. Spain and Transoxiana were marked in red. Standing before the map, Mansur appeared small and deeply worried.

Man Sulayh’s situation could be described as facing both internal and external threats. Internally, his uncle Ali Abdullah did not recognize his caliphate; the former governor of Syria, now in Egypt with nearly a hundred thousand troops, claimed to be the legitimate heir to the caliphate and demanded that Man Sulayh step down. Another threat was Abu Muslim, the governor of Khorasan and the second most powerful figure in the Abbasid Empire, who had always been Man Sulayh’s political rival. Although he was defeated by the Tang forces at the Battle of Talas, reducing his strength, the Abbasid caliph did not agree to his suggestions to eliminate him instead allowing him to reassemble troops and regain Transoxiana. Now, Abu Muslim again had forty thousand elite Khorasan troops at his disposal, posing a serious threat. Externally, the remaining Umayyad forces still occupied Spain, and Rahman not only survived but grew stronger through war. There was also the Tang army in the east. Man Sulayh was well acquainted with Li Qing’an, the king of Anxi, who was a talented and ambitious local ruler, completely different from the narrow-minded emperors and officials of the Tang dynasty, whose vision of the world was limited to the east. Li Qing’an’s vision included the Frankish Kingdom in the west, making him a formidable opponent. By controlling Transoxiana, he transformed the Tang dynasty’s previous nominal rule into actual military occupation.

These internal and external threats left Man Sulayh with no time to enjoy the luxurious life of a caliph or savor the power that came with it. He needed to quickly reverse his unfavorable situation.

“Your Caliphship, I am here.”

Man Sulayh turned and saw Khalid standing behind him. With concern, he sighed, “Khalid, I am very troubled right now!”

“Your Caliphship, I am willing to help you relieve your worries.”

Man Sulayh remained silent for a moment before smiling and saying, “Let’s not talk about worries for now. How about discussing financial revenues? I heard last year’s revenue exceeded seventy million dinars?”

“Yes, although we lost ten million dinars from Transoxiana last year, we gained thirty million dinars from Egypt and Armenia, resulting in a significant increase in revenue.”

Khalid always stood upright when answering questions, remaining humble with a gentle voice, which greatly satisfied Mansur. He picked up a long wooden stick from the wall and pointed at the map, saying, “The Abbasid caliphs had been considering rebuilding the capital for a long time. They sent many people to various places to choose a site, but they passed away before completing the task. I have taken up their legacy, and I already have a preliminary plan in mind.”

Mansur used the stick to point to an empty area along the Tigris River on the map. “There is a place here that satisfies me greatly. It is currently a small fishing village called Baghdad. I have initially decided to build my new capital here, and I will name it Baghdad.”

He put down the stick and smiled at Khalid. “Building this capital will likely cost three million dinars. Will you have no problem with that?”

Although Khalid knew that three million dinars would definitely not be enough once construction began, he hesitated not at all and immediately replied, “No problem!”

“Very good!”

Mansur nodded in satisfaction. Of course, he had not called Khalid just to ask for money. He regarded Khalid as the vizier of the empire and wanted to discuss with him how to resolve the difficulties he was facing.

“Please sit down!”

Mansur invited him to sit and ordered someone to serve him a cup of strong tea. He smiled and said, “Last year, I visited the Tang Dynasty and gained a lot. I not only learned their paper-making technique but also fell in love with one of their beverages. They call it tea. In fact, the Turks used to bring it for sale, but what they sold was inferior tea. However, the tea I tasted in Chang’an was truly top-quality. I really like it. Try it.”

Khalid sat down, took a sip carefully, nodded, and smiled, saying, “It is indeed good.”

“If you like it, I’ll give you some later. In the future, we can also trade with the Tang Dynasty.”

When the Tang Dynasty was mentioned, the smile on Mansur’s face gradually faded. He fell silent for a moment before saying, “Last year, I went to Chang’an and signed a peace agreement with the Tang Dynasty. It was just a temporary measure to exchange prisoners at the time. But now, I really want to reach a temporary truce with them.”

Khalid also remained silent for a while before saying, “I’m worried that Li Qing’an won’t give up. I’m even more worried that he might take advantage of our internal strife to attack Sindh.”

Man Sulur sighed and said, “I thought of that too. To be honest, the Tang Dynasty is only interested in Sogdiana west of the Pamir Mountains; they have no interest in Khwarazm or Sindh. But Li Qing’an is different—he’s interested in all lands. I suspect he’s even interested in Damascus. So the best way is to use the Tang emperor to get rid of him and replace him with a new governor who isn’t interested in land. In fact, I’ve already sent people to do this.”
“Your Majesty the Caliph is truly brilliant!”
Khalid praised him, but then expressed his own opinion, “But I’m worried that it will take time for the Tang Dynasty to replace their governor. By the time they do, Li Qing’an will have taken control of Sindh and Punjab.”
“I’ve considered that as well.”
Man Sulur smiled proudly and said, “Last year, I sent a Sogdian who disguised himself as a merchant to contact the chieftains of the Uyghurs. I heard that Li Qing’an has a poor relationship with the Uyghurs, so I thought of using them to temporarily hold Li Qing’an back, preventing him from marching south to Sindh. The Uyghur chieftains agreed right away. It seems they also have ambitions for Tang’s Northern Regions. In this way, Li Qing’an’s attention will surely be focused on the Uyghurs this year, leaving him no energy to think about Sindh. At the same time, the Amu Darya will remain peaceful, allowing me to focus on resolving internal issues first. And who knows? By the time the battle with the Uyghurs is over, Li Qing’an might already have had his head cut off by their emperor. Wouldn’t that solve three problems at once?”
Khalid was deeply impressed. He stood up respectfully and said, “Your Majesty the Caliph truly possesses great wisdom and strategy. I admire you greatly.”
“Please sit! Please sit!” Man Sulur smiled slightly and then said to him, “As for Abu Muslim, I think I should send him to Egypt to deal with Ali. What do you think?”
Khalid thought for a moment and said, “But I’m worried that if he teams up with Abdullah, it could create even more problems.”
Man Sulur remained silent. He stared at Khalid for a long time. In fact, he was just testing Khalid. He knew Abu Muslim had a very good relationship with the Barmakid family. He wanted to see Khalid’s attitude. If Khalid supported his plan, then he would never be able to become his vizier. Anyone who showed sympathy for Abu Muslim would not be employed. Fortunately, Khalid passed the test. He smiled faintly and said, “I’ve already made arrangements to deal with Abu Muslim.”

In Merv, the entrance to the governor’s palace was deserted; only a dozen soldiers sat dozing on the steps. Governor Abu Muslim had set off for Damascus ten days earlier, leaving the palace without its master. The subordinates became listless. At that moment, an officer named Asambi, the palace’s chief administrator, stepped out. Seeing the soldiers sleeping haphazardly, he shouted angrily, “Get up, all of you!”
The soldiers jumped to their feet in fright. A few who were slower were kicked violently by Asambi. They stood in two rows, heads bowed, too afraid to speak. After cursing them, Asambi prepared to leave when suddenly he heard loud hoofbeats, as if there were a thousand riders. Looking into the distance, he soon saw a large group of cavalry charging from the end of the street—about three thousand riders, rushing toward them like thunder in the plain.
Asambi’s face paled in horror. The Muslim governor had strictly forbidden riding in the streets of Merv. Who could be so bold? In an instant, the thousand cavalry reached the palace entrance. Leading them was Qayyad, the current highest military commander. He spurred his horse, which neighed loudly as it raised its front hooves. Qayyad pointed his whip at Asambi and ordered sharply, “Open the palace gates immediately to welcome the new governor of Khorasan.”
Asambi was stunned. He glanced back instinctively; the street was empty, with no one in sight. Confused, he asked, “Who is the new governor?”
Qayyad replied arrogantly, “I, Qayyad, am the new governor of Khorasan, appointed by Caliph Mansur.”
“You?” Asambi stared at him in disbelief and asked gravely, “What about the Muslim governor?”
“Abu Muslim has been reassigned as governor of Yemen.”
“How do you know the governor’s full name?”
As soon as he spoke, Asambi realized it instantly. Without a doubt, it was Qayyad who had betrayed the Muslim governor. How could the governor abandon Khorasan to go to Yemen? It could only be because he had lost control of the army. Filled with rage, Asambi trembled as he pointed at Qayyad and cursed, “The Muslim governor trusted you and handed you the army. How dare you betray him? You ungrateful wretch! You will be punished by Allah!”
Qayyad flew into a rage. He charged forward on his horse and stabbed Asambi in the chest with a swift blow, whispering viciously in his ear, “You meddle too much!”
Asambi glared at him, his voice hoarse, “You betrayed… the Muslim governor!”

As Ziyad drew his sword, Asanbi fell backward. The soldiers on guard scattered in terror, and no one was left in front of the governor’s palace. Ziyad slowly raised his head and gazed at the grand building that symbolized the highest power in Khorasan. At that moment, Abu Muslim gradually faded from his sight, and the words Mansur had spoken to him last year in Transoxiana during the prisoner exchange came to mind: “You can choose. If you are loyal to Abu Muslim, go back now. If you are loyal to me, Mansur, then I will give you this horse.” With a beard covering his face and tattered clothes, Ziyad said in a low voice, “I am loyal to the Caliph.” “I will be the Caliph someday!” “Then… I am loyal to Prince Mansur.” Mansur laughed loudly, then patted Ziyad’s shoulder firmly and said, “Trust me, one day you will become the governor of Khorasan.” … “Trust me, one day you will become the governor of Khorasan!” Ziyad muttered to himself while looking at the governor’s palace. Suddenly, he straightened up and shouted to the cavalry, “From this moment on, I, Ziyad ibn Sari, appointed by Caliph Mansur, officially become the governor of Khorasan.” The three thousand cavalry responded in unison, “Long live the governor! Long live the governor!” Ziyad took one last deep look at the governor’s palace, then mustered up the courage to walk inside as its master. … A few days later, Ziyad’s handwritten letter arrived on Mansur’s desk. After reading it, Mansur smiled triumphantly. The pawn he had planted in Transoxiana last year had finally proven useful. In the letter, Ziyad stated that he had fully taken control of the Khorasan army, replaced the generals appointed by Abu Muslim, and that the new generals had sworn loyalty to the Caliph. Thus, he no longer needed to fear Abu Muslim. Mansur immediately ordered, “Find Abu Muslim a new palace as a sign of my kindness!” As soon as Abu Muslim entered Damascus, he was placed under house arrest. He was not afraid, knowing that Mansur would not dare kill him. He had forty thousand loyal Khorasan troops, and if Mansur dared kill him, it would mean war. His Khorasan troops would join forces with Ali’s Egyptian army to attack the Mesopotamian region. He believed Mansur would not take such a risk.

Although under house arrest, Abu Muslim was not nervous. He spent his time leisurely reading, writing poems, and documenting the establishment of the Abbasid dynasty. One afternoon, more than 300 guards escorted a carriage to his place of detention. A court official said to him respectfully, “His Caliphate, Mansur, will officially receive Your Excellency in three days. Please move to the Moon Palace now!” Abu Muslim snorted coldly and got into the carriage. The outside of the carriage was lavishly decorated, but inside it was a cage made of wrought iron. Once the doors closed, the carriage headed toward the dilapidated eastern district of Damascus. There, a white palace had been built in an area inhabited by ordinary Damascus citizens. It wasn’t large, but it was heavily guarded. The guards took Abu Muslim deep into the palace and locked him there, with the palace doors closing firmly behind him.

The room where Abu Muslim was held had no bed or any furniture, only a tattered piece of parchment. It was already late. After having a poor meal, he lay down on the parchment and fell asleep. Twenty years ago, he had also been a slave, his only possession being that tattered parchment. Abu Muslim understood Mansur’s intention—he wanted to remind him that he was nothing but a slave, forcing him to relive his past and humiliate him in this way.

Lost in memories, Abu Muslim gradually fell asleep. Entire Damascus also slowly slipped into sleep. Next to the palace where he was held was Damascus’ artificial canal, whose water flowed quietly. In the dead of night, over a hundred shadowy figures appeared by the canal. They carefully destroyed the embankments, causing the floodwaters to surge out and sweep through the surrounding residential areas. Panic-stricken cries filled the neighborhoods. Fortunately, the water level wasn’t high, only reaching people’s knees. Still, fear reigned in the poor districts.

Abu Muslim suddenly woke up from his dream. Water had flooded his room, and the cold water soaked his body. He quickly stood up, pressing himself against the wall. The water only reached his calves and caused no harm. He didn’t understand what Mansur was trying to do.

What harm could adding just a little water do to him? Abu Muslim was puzzled. Then, accidentally, his lips touched his clothes, and he froze. He dipped his finger in some water and put it in his mouth—the water was salty and bitter. Suddenly, the wall he was leaning against began to shake. In that instant, Abu Muslim realized that the palace was actually built of salt.

The white palace collapsed with a roar, and Abu Muslim, a great general of the Abbasid Empire, died tragically in the bitter salty water.

……

Abu Muslim died quietly, but the Amu Darya River continued to flow peacefully northward. The clouds of war had dissipated over it. The Tang army also built a huge fortress across from Chalgan, called Wuhu City, with 3,000 soldiers stationed there for defense.

The main force of the Tang army had withdrawn to Bukhara and Samarkand. Li Qing’an wasn’t in a hurry to return to Suyab. He spent half a month reorganizing the political structure in the River Region. Of course, he wouldn’t let secular power in the region be controlled by religion. The severe lessons from the unrest in the River Region made Li Qing’an realize that administrative power there couldn’t be left unstructured. Once administrative authority was lost, the region could easily fall under religious control. His first action was to dissolve the powerless “Joint Council.” Considering that the Tang Dynasty couldn’t establish government offices in the various states of the River Region for the time being, Li Qing’an allowed the kings of each state to govern their own countries. At the same time, he sent the children of the nobles from these states to Suyab to study, teaching them the Chinese language and Central Plains culture. Of course, this was also a form of hostage-taking.

But Li Qing’an only restored administrative power; military power remained unchanged. The states of the River Region were not allowed to have their own armies. Thirty thousand Han soldiers were stationed there permanently. Due to the long-term unrest, the number of Sogdian men had greatly decreased, so Li Qing’an allowed soldiers to marry Sogdian women and encouraged them to settle in the region.

To encourage the common people in the River Region to learn and use the Chinese language, Li Qing’an established civic universities in Samarkand, Bukhara, and Nishapur. These universities were open to everyone at no cost, allowing anyone to learn the Chinese language and understand the culture and art of the Tang Dynasty. Laws were established requiring officials at all levels in the River Region to speak Chinese. A one-year grace period for learning was given, and after three years, officials would be selected through examinations, with writing Tang poetry and Chinese texts being the most important subjects. Five years later, the official language of the River Region would officially become Chinese, and its laws would be replaced with Tang laws.

Meanwhile, he sent people to Chang’an to persuade those Sogdian merchants who had lived there for years to return. Most of these merchants were wealthy and deeply influenced by Tang culture; their return would surely promote the spread of Tang culture in the River Region. If the occupation of the River Region a year and a half earlier was a military occupation, using force to assert the Tang Dynasty’s sovereignty there, then the re-occupation a year and a half later was one of soft power, marking the beginning of Tang culture’s infiltration into the River Region from various aspects. At night, Li Qing’an’s personal guards had already packed their luggage. Early the next morning, their general would return to Suiye. The courtyard where they stayed was in disarray, with dozens of boxes filled with various daily necessities, as well as many gifts Li Qing’an had bought for his family. The room was brightly lit as Li Qing’an received a guest—Nomachio, the new king of Kangguo. He had originally been the prince of Kangguo, his father being the vice king of Kangguo and a staunch pro-Tang supporter. After the Arabs invaded the River Region, his father took him as a child to the Tang Dynasty and they lived in Luoyang for nearly forty years. His father had long passed away, and Nomachio had grown from a child into a middle-aged man. Last year, Li Qing’an had written to him, asking him to return to his country. Nomachio returned to his homeland after forty years ten days ago. Since the king of Kangguo, Shao Fen, had died, Li Qing’an made him the new vice king, officially making him the king of Kangguo. “The general will return to Suiye tomorrow. I wonder when he will return to the River Region?” Nomachio seemed worried. Although he had been made king of Kangguo, he lacked confidence. Having grown up in Luoyang, aside from his appearance still indicating he was Sogdian, his language, culture, and living habits were no different from those of the Han people. He had long considered himself part of the Han people; even his wife was a Han woman surnamed Zhang, and both of his sons had half Han ancestry. As the new king of Kangguo, things were in chaos, and Nomachio didn’t know where to start. In Luoyang, he had been just an ordinary citizen, but now he was the ruler of a country—the huge difference made it difficult for him to adapt.

Li Qing’an noticed his anxiety and smiled to comfort him, saying, “Don’t worry. Take things slowly; practice makes perfect. Discuss any questions you have with Luo Qiming. In at most three months, and at the latest half a year, you’ll be able to handle things properly. Besides, you’re the prince of Kang Country, and its people have already accepted you—this is the most important thing. As long as you’re accepted by your people, and as long as you’re diligent, self-disciplined, don’t exploit them, and care about their hardships, then you’ll be a qualified ruler. Don’t worry; I’ll come to Khwarezm often. Also, every October you must go to Suiye to report to me. Then we can discuss any requests you have face to face.”

Relieved, Nomajio felt much more at ease. Seeing that it was getting late, he got up to take his leave. As soon as Nomajio left, Luo Qiming hurried over, bringing with him an elderly Muslim. This man was Borodo, the leader of the Muslim moderate faction, who was also a highly skilled doctor.

Luo Qiming pointed to Borodo beside him and said with a smile, “Borodo heard that the great general is returning to Suiye tomorrow, so he came to see me, hoping to return to Suiye with the great general.”

“Why is that?” Li Qing’an asked curiously, looking at the old man with a slight smile.

Borodo stood up, bowed to Li Qing’an, and replied respectfully, “The great general peacefully resolved the crisis among the Muslims in Khwarezm, especially resolving the dispute over the Bukhara mosque. This allowed us Muslims to live in peace and continue living in our homeland. We are deeply grateful to the great general, and we must repay him.”

Li Qing’an shook his head and laughed, “Putting an end to unrest is not only your desire but also mine. It’s nothing special. But I still don’t understand—how does repaying me relate to you coming with me to Suiye?”

Borodo said seriously, “I heard that the great general has been married for many years but still has no children. As the Tang people say, among the three forms of unfilial conduct, having no descendants is the worst. I imagine the great general must be quite troubled. I have years of experience in medicine, especially in treating male infertility. However, curing such a condition takes time. That’s why I hope to return to Suiye with the great general.”

……

(Historically, the person killed by the collapse of the salt palace was Mansur’s uncle, Ali the Old. In fact, Mansur built the palace on salt ground and flooded it, causing the palace to collapse. It would have been simpler to just use poisoned wine. I really don’t understand why this story was shifted to Abu Muslim here. In reality, Abu Muslim was killed by so-called thugs while waiting outside the palace. This is just to clarify.)