On the Mongolian steppes, at Guhuacheng, present day Hohhot, lay the territory of the Western Tumed tribe.
The Tumed had once been one of the most renowned Mongolian tribes on the grasslands. At their peak, they were divided into twelve major sections, collectively known as the Twelve Tumed. Their name alone once carried enough weight to make neighboring tribes think twice before provoking them.
The Wushen tribe had originally belonged to the Uguxin branch of those Twelve Tumed. In that sense, they could be considered a subordinate tribe, once firmly under the Tumed's banner.
But that glory was long gone.
Later, the Tumed tribe fractured. Half of its people migrated eastward beyond Jizhou and became known as the Eastern Tumed. The branch that remained behind in Guhuacheng could only call itself the Western Tumed, and its strength had dwindled to less than half of its former peak.
The leader of the Western Tumed, Omubu, was a man thoroughly broken by reality.
He had suffered defeat after defeat at the hands of the Jin state. Each loss had left him humiliated, beaten down, and powerless. Now, just hearing the word "Jin" was enough to make his heart tighten and his hands tremble.
Yet recently, hope had quietly crept back into his chest.
The Great Ming had secretly sent an envoy to contact him, proposing cooperation and a joint attack against the Jin state.
That single message had reignited Omubu's long-suppressed ambition.
If he could ally with the Ming army, then perhaps there was still a chance. Perhaps the Western Tumed could rise again.
With that thought in mind, Omubu sent Mao Han to make contact with the Ming envoy. Mao Han was the husband of his wet nurse, an elder he trusted deeply, someone close enough to be considered family. He tasked Mao Han with discussing trade matters and the details of a potential alliance.
But before Mao Han could even return…
A personal guard rushed into the tent, panic written all over his face.
"Terrible news!" the guard shouted. "The Jin state set an ambush along the road. They killed Mao Han. And now, General Yue Tuo of the Jin has sent an envoy who wishes to speak with you."
"What?!" Omubu froze in place.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Uncle Mao Han has been killed?!"
For a brief moment, raw grief flashed across his face. His lips trembled. His fists clenched.
But Omubu forced it down.
In front of outsiders, especially enemies, a Mongolian leader could not afford to show weakness.
He ground his teeth together and said coldly, "Bring in the Jin envoy."
Soon, a Jin envoy strode in, his posture arrogant, his gaze filled with contempt.
"I am the envoy of Aisin Gioro Yue Tuo," he said loudly. "Are you Omubu?"
Omubu stared at him, his face dark, anger simmering beneath the surface.
"I am."
The envoy laughed.
"Your secret collusion with the Great Ming, plotting to harm our Jin state, has already been exposed. General Yue Tuo sends you a gift."
With a flick of his wrist, the envoy tossed a wooden box forward.
It hit the ground with a dull thud, burst open, and a human head rolled out across the floor.
It was Mao Han.
Omubu's heart screamed.
But his face remained stiff.
He raised his chin and said hoarsely, "Say what you came to say."
The envoy sneered.
"General Yue Tuo commands the Tumed tribe to surrender immediately. From this day onward, you will submit to the Jin state and provide three thousand able-bodied young men to join the Jin army."
The envoy paused, then smiled coldly.
"If you refuse, our forces will breach Guhuacheng and Suiyuan City and wipe your Tumed tribe from the grasslands."
Omubu burned with rage inside, but he did not dare let it show.
This was not the first time the Jin had humiliated him.
Every time he resisted, he was crushed without mercy. The Jin's Eight Banners army was simply too strong. On the Mongolian steppes, strength was everything. When facing a power far greater than one's own, the instinct to kneel and sing a song of submission was carved into the bones.
Sweat rolled down Omubu's forehead.
He thought and thought.
In the end, there was only one answer.
Surrender.
He could not win. He truly could not stand against the Jin.
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside.
A guard burst in, shouting, "Khan! The Wushen tribe, leading various Ordos tribes, has arrived outside Guhuacheng and is loudly demanding the city gates be opened!"
"What?!" Omubu was shocked.
The Jin envoy heard this and let out a mocking laugh.
"So the Wushen and the Ordos have arrived? Excellent. I will accept their surrender as well and save myself the trouble of riding farther west. Come. Let us go to the city wall and take a look."
Soon, Omubu and the Jin envoy stood side by side atop the city wall.
Outside Guhuacheng's southern gate were dozens of mounted horsemen.
At the front sat the leader of the Wushen tribe. Beside him was Bo'erzhijin Elinchen of the Ordos. Behind them were several dozen riders, all clearly tribal leaders.
With just these few dozen men gathered, the weight they carried was immense.
Nearly all the major figures of the Western Mongolian region were present.
The Wushen leader raised his head and called out loudly, his voice ringing across the plains.
"Omubu of the Tumed! I am the leader of the Wushen tribe, and now also the leader of the Ordos. I have come to persuade you."
Omubu leaned forward from the city wall.
"What do you want to say?"
The Wushen leader answered without hesitation.
"Come with us. I will lead you to a life where you can eat your fill. Together, we will beat the Jin barbarians!"
Omubu's face flushed red.
The Jin envoy was standing right beside him.
For someone below to say such words in front of a Jin envoy was an open slap to the face.
As expected, the Jin envoy exploded in rage.
"Wushen tribesman! Watch your mouth!"
The Wushen leader burst into laughter.
"What's wrong? Don't you like being called Manchu dogs? I quite like it."
The Jin envoy was furious.
"This is outrageous! Our Great Jin has not dealt with you in a long time, and you have forgotten our might!"
The Wushen leader snorted.
"Hmph. Just Jurchen savages."
The Jin envoy sneered.
"Our Great Jin's generals, Dorgon and Yue Tuo, are leading a massive army nearby. If you dare to act so arrogantly here, the moment our army arrives, every one of you will be slaughtered."
At those words, Omubu trembled visibly, fear flickering in his eyes.
But the Wushen leader, Bo'erzhijin Elinchen, and the gathered Ordos leaders all burst out laughing.
"Oh, we're terrified," they mocked.
The Jin envoy continued coldly, "The Tumed tribe has already decided to surrender to us. You should surrender as well. Submit to our Great Jin, and perhaps your lives will be spared."
The Wushen leader shouted up at the wall.
"Omubu! Have you surrendered to him?"
Cold sweat poured down Omubu's face.
"Uh… well…"
He did not dare say no.
But he also could not bring himself to say yes.
He was completely trapped.
The Wushen leader pressed again.
"Just draw a knife and chop down this Jin savage. Wouldn't that solve everything?"
Omubu fell silent.
He did not dare.
Seeing his hesitation, the Jin envoy laughed loudly.
"Omubu, these people outside dare to resist our Great Jin. You only need to stand firm against them. Our army will arrive shortly and slaughter every one of these fools."
Hearing this, Omubu grew even more frightened.
After long consideration, he still believed the Jin were stronger.
Those Wushen, Ordos, and others outside had all been crushed by the Jin in the past. Even gathered together now, how could they possibly win? In the end, they would still be defeated.
In secret, he might have dared to contact them.
But with a Jin envoy standing beside him, he did not dare gamble.
Omubu let out a long sigh.
"Don't blame me," he said quietly. "I cannot join you."
On the grasslands, the rule was simple.
If ambitions did not align, then only battle could decide the outcome.
Without another word, the Wushen leader turned his horse around.
"Since persuasion has failed, then let battle decide," he said coldly. "Omubu, don't blame us either."