Traveling back to the Northern Song Dynasty: Picking up a princess as my wife

In the ancient and solemn imperial palace of Kyoto, the capital of Fusang, Wanyan Ping gently clutched the secret letter in his hand, a deep, unspoken worry forming between his brows. "Alas!" he sighed, his voice filled with helplessness and lament for the current situation. "I never imagined that the renowned Wanyan Gan, hailed as the invincible god of war, would fall so low at the hands of Li Zhen. Who knows, in this storm, will the Tibetan Empire, dominating the plateau, or the Mongols on the vast grasslands be next to be swept up?"

Upon hearing this, the minister of Wei, who was standing nearby, looked puzzled. He asked cautiously, "Your Highness, could it be that after Li Zhen swept through the Jin Kingdom, his greed was not yet satisfied, and he intends to spread the flames of war to all directions, intending to conquer more countries?"

Upon hearing this, Wanyan Ping slowly rose from his throne, his steps steady as if each one carried a thousand-pound burden. He walked to the brazier in the center of the hall and gently tossed the secret letter bearing the weighty message into it. As the flames licked at it, the paper quickly turned into swirling ashes, like fleeting clouds, leaving only a wisp of smoke lingering in the air.

Wanyan Ping's expression was solemn as he slowly said, "The Jin Dynasty was merely the starting point of Emperor Li Zhen's grand ambitions. His ambitions far exceed the limitations of a single country or region; he seeks the unification of the entire continent. Tibet and Mongolia are already within his sights, and the distant Song and Western Xia will likely also be unable to escape the fate of being incorporated into the Han Dynasty's territory. It is precisely for this reason that I resolutely chose the land of Fusang, far from the hustle and bustle and isolated overseas. Although it is remote, it has the advantage of being isolated from the mainland, and at least in Li Zhen's eyes, it does not pose a significant threat."

Then, he slowly turned around, his gaze deep as he looked at the minister of Wei, his tone resolute and unwavering: "Go and tell our merchants and warriors that no matter how turbulent the world may be, they must not lightly start a war with Han. Even if they provoke us without cause, striking our people with their fists and even taking their lives, we must remain restrained and not retaliate. Our strategy is to use Wei's rich silver mines as a key to open the trade doors with Han and Song, using this glittering silver to exchange for everything we desperately need—grain to nourish our people, iron weapons to strengthen our army, and even population to expand our nation. We must find ways to obtain everything our nation needs."

Although spring is quietly approaching, in the vast northern frontier of the Mongolian grasslands, snowflakes still occasionally fall from the sky, as if the lingering charm of winter is reluctant to leave. The biting wind, carrying a chilling cold of minus ten degrees Celsius, makes people dare not linger outdoors, and even the most resilient travelers must hurry to find a safe haven.

On this vast grassland, Daze Lake shines like a dazzling pearl, not only one of the most magnificent lakes in Mongolia, but also a sacred place in the hearts of many tribes. Along its shores, more than twenty Mongolian tribes of varying sizes live, scattered or clustered, collectively protecting this lush and verdant land. Every summer and autumn, it transforms into a paradise for cattle and sheep, with herds of livestock grazing peacefully on the verdant meadows, creating vivid and harmonious grassland scenes.

The large lake on the Mongolian grasslands, later known as Lake Baikal, is considered the world's largest freshwater lake, bar none.

Inside the tents of the Buryatti region, a group of Mongolian men were happily drinking mare's milk wine, while a whole roasted lamb, glistening with oil, was being roasted in the center of the tent.

The chief of the Buryat tribe examined the silver bowl in his hand, its gleam flickering in the firelight. He turned to another Mongol tribal chief beside him and slowly asked, "Hebrew, do you have any thoughts on the alliance proposal put forward by King Nazahan?"

Upon hearing this, Hebulai gently put down the half-eaten sheep bone, casually wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with the cuff of his worn black sheepskin coat, and said with a firm look in his eyes: "Mudu, my mind is made up. No matter what your tribe chooses, I swear I will not join the Mongol-Han Kingdom that Naza wants to build. This vast Mongolian grassland is the common home of all Mongolian sons and daughters, not Naza's private territory. The reason why the Ongud tribe has become increasingly powerful is because of the protection of the Han emperor, but Naza's ambition is ultimately unacceptable to me."

Chief Mudu of the Buryat tribe, with a warm smile on his face, slowly said, "For me, it is not a big deal. My tribe has only a little over two thousand people. It is not difficult for us to attach ourselves to any side or obey any orders. However, I really cannot bear to see my tribesmen involved in endless wars."

After speaking, within the large tent, the twenty-odd tribal chiefs quickly divided into two camps. One side readily agreed to join the newly established Mongol Khanate of Naza, seeing it as a place of protection; while the other side, comprised of many powerful tribes, was unwilling to easily submit to Naza. After all, these tribes possessed formidable cavalry, and their strength should not be underestimated. Once war broke out, the outcome was uncertain.

While the Mongol tribal leaders were engrossed in their conversation, a tribal soldier responsible for pouring wine was quietly and hastily jotting something down in a small notebook hidden close to his body. His movements were subtle and discreet, as if they hadn't disturbed even the air.

Two days later, Wan Hanzhong, who was in Ulaanbaatar, carefully examined the intelligence sent from Dazehu. This intelligence was provided by the Han State's intelligence department. Nowadays, there are Han State intelligence agents in almost all of these Mongolian tribes.

After reading the intelligence report, Wan Hanzhong got up, threw it into the fire to destroy it, and then walked straight to the Khan's palace.

Compared to the other Mongol tribal leaders, he could hardly be considered a wise ruler. He did not indulge in wine, meat, women, and women, and constantly learned various strategies for governing the country from Wan Hanzhong. At this time, he was actually reading "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu.

Upon seeing Wan Hanzhong enter, Na Zha laughed and stood up to greet him: "Hahaha... Mr. Wan is here. Please sit down and warm yourself by the fire. It takes a while for the weather to warm up in Ulaanbaatar. It's estimated that it will be another two months before spring arrives."

Despite the extraordinary courtesy shown to Wan Hanzhong by Naza, Wan Hanzhong dared not be complacent or negligent in the slightest. He bowed respectfully to Naza according to ancient etiquette, and then his words flowed out slowly, like a stream flowing across the grassland, peaceful and profound.

"Your Majesty, the spies I dispatched to the tribes on the edge of the Great Lake have recently sent back the latest news. Just two days ago, they held a secret meeting in the Buryat tribe. The smaller tribes have expressed their firm support for your grand ambition of establishing the Mongol Khanate, and their hearts seem to have already drawn to you with the winds of the steppe. However, the major tribes located on the eastern shore of the Great Lake have voiced different opinions. They harbor doubts and are unwilling to easily submit to your command and accept your rule."

Upon hearing this news, Naza's face changed drastically, and he roared furiously, "These bastards! What a bunch of short-sighted villains! The Mongols have been bullied by the Jin and Liao for many years, and the reason for this is that they each ruled their own country and could not unite as one! Now that a golden opportunity has been presented to them, they dare to jump out and oppose it. It is outrageous! When spring comes, I will personally take up arms and lead a large army to wipe them out!"