The Khalkha Mongols were affiliated with Outer Mongolia, also known as the Northern Mongols. Among them, the Tüsheet Khanate and two other major tribes held the strongest power, while smaller tribes survived by aligning themselves with these three.
In the 27th year of Kangxi’s reign, the ambitious Dzungar leader Galdan launched a large-scale invasion into the Northern Mongolian territories. The turmoil in Khalkha Mongolia persisted for years, plagued by internal strife and external threats, until the Qing army marched beyond the Great Wall. The Crown Prince captured Galdan, bringing a brief respite of peace to Khalkha.
After years of warfare, the Northern Mongols were severely weakened. For the sake of their people’s future and in gratitude for the imperial court’s aid, the three major Khalkha tribes jointly petitioned the emperor for submission. This pleased Kangxi greatly, and he soon granted their request.
In the 30th year of Kangxi’s reign, to settle the subjugated Khalkha Mongol tribes, the emperor personally traveled to Dolon Nor and held an assembly with the Mongol leaders, historically known as the Dolon Nor Assembly. The leader of the Tüsheet Khanate, Galdan Dorji, was granted the title of Prince Duoluo, and his sons were also ennobled. The gathering was filled with joy and celebration.
During the bonfire feast, laughter and merriment echoed all around. In front of all, Galdan Dorji placed his right hand over his heart and performed the highest form of salute to Kangxi. "Respected Emperor, if I were to return to the embrace of the Eternal Blue Sky, my eldest son, Dundub Dorji, shall inherit the khanate and become the next leader of the Tüsheet Khanate."
The people of the steppe worshipped the Eternal Blue Sky and did not shy away from speaking of death. As soon as he finished speaking, the other tribal leaders straightened their postures, their eyes gleaming as they pondered the implications of his words.
"My unworthy son is fourteen and has long admired a princess of the Great Qing." Galdan Dorji used the humble term "unworthy son," a phrase he had carefully learned from the Han officials accompanying the court. He then knocked on his chest and bowed sincerely. "By the Eternal Blue Sky, I, Galdan Dorji, swear this oath: should the princess marry into our tribe, the Tüsheet Khanate shall share its throne with her. I humbly request Your Majesty’s approval."
The proposal of marriage alliance caused an uproar.
Though Khalkha Mongolia had submitted to the Qing, internal conflicts persisted. The leaders of the other two major tribes clenched their fists in frustration, resentful that the Tüsheet Khanate had acted first. They were also stunned by the boldness of his vow—to share the future khanate with a princess.
"Sharing the throne with a princess!"
They cursed inwardly at the cunning move. With this, the emperor and the court would undoubtedly favor the Tüsheet Khanate. The fertile pastures, vast herds of cattle and sheep—all would be theirs without fear of raids or unrest.
They opened their mouths to speak, but no words came out.
While they too wished for marriage alliances, none had the audacity to make such a promise.
Soon after, a young man stepped forward to stand beside Galdan Dorji. Dressed in colorful narrow-sleeved robes, his wheat-toned skin and sharp features blended youthful shyness with wildness. Though his face still bore traces of boyishness, his rugged handsomeness was already apparent.
With a grin that revealed small canine teeth, he bowed and said, "Dundub Dorji humbly seeks Your Majesty’s approval."
Among the many high-ranking officials attending the assembly was Yunxiu’s elder brother, Tuyue. Within days, news of the event reached the Forbidden City.
"Did the emperor agree just like that?" Yierha, her delicate face serene, held an embroidered fan as she smiled faintly, threading a needle with practiced grace.
Concubine Jing jabbed her forehead in frustration. "His Majesty hasn’t agreed yet, but he’s close to it."
"That’s Khalkha Mongolia—far more distant than Khorchin, even farther than your elder sister Rongxian’s Balin Tribe. And your sister Duanjing is soon to marry into the Gala Khalkha. With you and Moyaqi the only remaining princesses, how could a younger sister wed before an elder?"
Moreover, the Fifth Princess Moyaqi, raised by Concubine Duan, was only eight—far too young.
Concubine Jing sighed anxiously. "That Dundub fellow made it clear—he admires only the Fourth Princess. He might as well have named her outright."
"Mother, his name is Dundub Dorji," Yierha corrected absentmindedly before pausing in thought. "Sharing the throne… that does sound intriguing."
Knowing her daughter too well, Concubine Jing clutched her chest. Before she could speak, a voice announced from outside: "The Imperial Noble Consort has arrived!"
"Sister."
"If Yierha is unwilling, there are certainly noble-born maidens of suitable age in the imperial clan," Yunxiu said gently as she sat beside Concubine Jing. "His Majesty would never force her."
Though Concubine Jing had long prepared herself for Yierha’s eventual marriage, Khalkha Mongolia was simply too far from the capital. If anything happened, the imperial family would struggle to support her.
Distance aside, the region was rife with internal strife. Her daughter would suffer hardships. And she hadn’t even seen the prospective son-in-law—what if he was hideously ugly and unkind? The thought alone might resurrect her from the grave.
"Aunt Yunxiu, I’ll marry him." Yierha’s almond-shaped eyes sparkled as she tugged playfully at Yunxiu’s sleeve. "But I’m only thirteen—I’ll stay for at least five more years. Within that time, Dundub Dorji must come to the capital so you and Mother can inspect him."
If he was handsome, she might treat him kindly.
If not… well, consummation could wait. Yierha pondered the possibility of sidelining her husband. As for the next heir of the tribe—perhaps she could choose someone more pleasing to bear the child.
Dundub Dorji was the eldest son, but he surely had younger brothers.
Far away in Khalkha, the future son-in-law suddenly shuddered, nearly tumbling off his horse.
"Dundub, your horsemanship has gotten rusty!" laughed the son of another tribal leader before adding enviously, "Your father secured you a Qing princess! They say the women of the steppe can’t compare to Her Highness—you’re a lucky man."
Dundub Dorji frowned slightly, pressing his lips together.
Khalkha had never had a Qing princess marry into their ranks. Rumors said Qing princesses were delicate, refined, with skin like jade—so flawless they seemed unreal. But such fragile women were not to his taste.
What man didn’t dream of glory? Raised on the steppe, he wanted a wife who could stand beside him as an equal.
Still, he had asked for this princess. For his tribe, for his people, he would never break his vow to share the throne. He would honor her, cherish her, and ensure her eldest son became heir—that was enough.
In the 31st year of Kangxi’s reign, Dundub Dorji inherited the title of Jasak Prince. In the 32nd year, the Imperial Noble Consort was elevated to empress, and the Fourth Princess Yierha was granted the title of Heshuo Kejing Princess. By the eighth month of the 33rd year, the Qing court and the Tüsheet Khanate exchanged marriage documents, and preparations for Princess Kejing’s dowry began.
The day before the exchange, Yierha went alone to the Palace of Heavenly Purity to seek an audience with Kangxi. The imperial study was cleared of attendants, and no one knew what passed between father and daughter. When Liang Jiugong reentered, he found His Majesty smiling with satisfaction, ordering, "Compile the Lifan Yuan’s records on Khalkha affairs and present them to the princess."
Yierha lifted her chin. "Imperial Father, the Northern Mongols alone are not enough. I must also review the records of the Southern Mongols."
Kangxi nodded approvingly, saying, "Very well, as you wish."
Apart from reviewing case files and mastering the Mongolian language, Yierha never neglected her martial arts, archery, and horsemanship—no longer hiding these skills from others. Soon, the Empress Dowager found out, the Crown Prince found out, the imperial concubines found out, and when Prince Zhi mentioned it to his consort, he exclaimed three times in admiration, "This is truly a princess of our Great Qing, a heroine who rivals any man!"
Her study companions, the Fifth Princess and the noble-born young ladies of the imperial clan, were utterly shocked.
Princess Kejing was renowned in the capital for her exquisite embroidery and her graceful demeanor, yet this same young woman was also skilled in every form of weaponry.
The Fifth Princess swallowed hard and quietly asked, "Fourth Sister, how do you handle the embroidery needle...?"
Yierha smiled gently and replied in a soft voice, "It’s all about controlling the strength in your hands and cultivating inner calm—lest you accidentally hurt someone in a fit of rage."
The Fifth Princess: "..."
The Fourth Prince, who had come to visit his sister and overheard by chance: "..."
In the 34th year of Kangxi’s reign, the leader of the Tüsheet Khanate arrived in the capital with his eldest son, Dondobdorj. Their visit served three purposes: to pay tribute, to pledge loyalty and strengthen alliances, and—most romantically—to allow Princess Kejing and her future consort to meet for the first time.
The leader found it romantic, but the future consort did not, nor did the imperial princes.
Dondobdorj, seventeen years old, stood tall and broad-shouldered, his sharply defined features exuding a wild, untamed handsomeness unlike any of the refined gentlemen of the capital. In the grand hall, he bowed respectfully, his faintly visible canine teeth adding to his rugged charm.
Kangxi nodded in satisfaction, while Yunxiu’s eyes lit up—this young man was handsome, a perfect match for Yierha.
The princes, too, found this future brother-in-law impressive—but only for a moment. The Crown Prince sighed softly, his expression tinged with pity; the Fourth Prince hesitated, then remained silent.
The Fifth Prince relaxed slightly—this future brother-in-law looked robust, surely his health was sturdy.
Noticing something amiss, Dondobdorj: "..."
Soon, he dismissed his doubts.
Yierha approached in a jade-white palace gown, her posture elegant and composed. Her face glowed with a soft radiance, her gentle eyes downcast as she curtsied and greeted, "Imperial Father, Imperial Mother," her voice as sweet as a nightingale’s. A faint blush rose to her cheeks.
Dondobdorj stood frozen, his heart pounding so hard he felt his soul had left his body.
In that moment, all his dislike for delicate women vanished—his eyes and heart were filled only with the princess before him. Her skin was so fair, her eyes so beautiful. Raised in such luxury, yet she was to marry a rough man like him...
From now on, he would cherish her, never letting her suffer even the slightest hardship.
His besotted expression made the Crown Prince’s lips twitch. A loud cough snapped Dondobdorj back to reality.
Seeing this, Yierha’s smile deepened slightly. Lowering her gaze, she addressed him softly, "Prince."
Dondobdorj’s soul fled once more.
After that single meeting at the palace banquet, they parted ways, and Dondobdorj spent the following years in restless longing, finding his return to the grasslands unbearable.
Year after year he waited, until finally, in the fifth month of Kangxi’s 36th year, the emperor relented. At nineteen, Yierha—now elevated to the title of "Gurun Princess Kejing"—was sent to marry in northern Mongolia, accompanied by a retinue of a thousand, adorned in phoenix coronets and crimson robes, her dowry stretching for miles.
Her consort rode out as far as Shengjing to welcome her, careful not to offend his noble bride. The procession moved slowly, arriving at the princess’s residence in Guihua City by mid-June.
Their newlywed bliss was the envy of many. Unbeknownst to others, Yierha quietly familiarized herself with her surroundings and, within a month, had discreetly assessed the political landscape of Khalkha Mongolia.
Khalkha Mongolia was divided into three major tribes, far from united—and even within the Tüsheet Khanate, her new home, factions clashed.
The aging khan’s authority waned, and though Dondobdorj was the undisputed heir, many resisted his rule.
Days later, Yierha stepped beyond the princess’s residence for the first time, accompanying her consort on a tour of the grasslands to inspect the tribes. As the princess arrived, the subordinate nobles and warriors came to pay respects—most not daring to meet her gaze, though a few stared boldly, their eyes flashing with admiration and, hidden deeper, greed.
Yierha narrowed her eyes and asked quietly, "Who is that?"
"That is my uncle, Gala," Dondobdorj replied, his face hardening with cold fury.
Yierha understood.
Gala had once contested the khanate’s leadership and lost, yet his influence remained formidable. Recently, he had grown restless, forming dubious ties with neighboring tribes.
"This whip of mine is a gift from the Great Qing Emperor," Princess Kejing announced sweetly before the assembled crowd.
Then, in one swift motion, the delicate and refined princess drew the long whip from her waist and lashed it across Gala’s detestable face.
"Disrespect to the princess is defiance of imperial law," she said cheerfully, her words punctuated by Gala’s piercing screams as the whip struck again and again—his face, back, and hands soon a bloody mess, the wounds deep enough to reveal bone.
Dondobdorj’s pupils contracted, his body stiffening in shock.
"From this day forth, Gala’s pastures and livestock belong to the khan," Yierha declared, her smile fading. "Should anyone object, they oppose not only me—but the Great Qing. Guihua City garrisons a hundred thousand troops. A single decree from me is all it takes. Who dares defy?"
Silence filled the tent, broken only by the sound of nervous gulps.
And once more, Dondobdorj’s soul took flight.
