The thought rose abruptly in Zhao Kuangyin's mind, unreasonable and sharp, but he knew very well what fed it.
It was not madness. It was anger.
Anger at Huizong. Anger at Qinzong.
"Qinzong knows how to squeeze marrow from bone," he said, his voice steady but edged with steel. "Yet when it comes to defending a city, he cannot seem to find a single ounce of backbone."
He let out a breath through his nose.
"And Huizong. Five million taels of gold. Five million."
The number alone was enough to sour his temper again. He wanted to curse someone properly, thoroughly, but there was no suitable target within reach. He could hardly lash out at palace attendants who had done nothing more than stand there.
For a fleeting moment he almost regretted that his younger brother was not present. According to the imperial physicians, Zhao Guangyi's wounds had healed and only a slight limp remained. At least if he were here, Zhao Kuangyin could glare at him and feel marginally better.
Summoning him now, however, would be absurd.
So the founding emperor of the Song dynasty ground his molars and spoke through clenched teeth.
"I don't care if it's five million taels of gold or five million grains of millet, if a bandit comes to demand it, they get nothing!"
Zhao Pu seized the moment and bowed. "Your Majesty speaks with clarity and reason."
Clarity was one thing. Reality was another.
[Lightscreen]
[Under the weight of political infighting, Li Gang was forced to assume command and organize the second relief of Taiyuan. His resolve to fight was unquestionable. His military talent, unfortunately, was far less impressive.
The remonstrance officials had already submitted memorials stating plainly that Li Gang "did not understand military affairs and would certainly lose if given command." They said outright that his appointment was "a trap laid by senior ministers" and "should not be permitted."
Li Gang himself understood his limitations. He submitted repeated memorials requesting dismissal. He wrote that his own death was nothing, but if his death delayed or harmed the country, it would be a regret beyond remedy.
Qinzong refused.
The first relief expedition to Taiyuan had actually held the advantage in battle, yet it still ended in disaster. The veteran general Zhong Shizhong led the army, but allied troops hesitated and falsified reports, causing fatal delays. At Killing Bear Ridge, Zhong Shizhong fought on despite severe wounds and died for his country. His entire force was annihilated.
That loss alone had already foreshadowed the Northern Song's fate, because the scholar-officials soon resumed their quarrels.
The second relief was no better. Although Li Gang nominally commanded, each general answered directly to Qinzong in distant Bianliang. Messages had to travel back and forth before decisions were made. Units were not unified. Coordination was weak. The army appeared formidable in numbers, yet in practice each force fought its own separate battle.
The Jin general Wanyan Yinshu calmly concentrated his strength and defeated them one by one.
After eight months of bitter resistance, Taiyuan fell. Soldiers and civilians alike perished.
Li Gang was demoted on the charge of "insisting on war, losing troops, and wasting wealth."
The Battle of Taiyuan had been the Northern Song's dying struggle.
It was a feeble one.
The Jin army regrouped and marched south once more, laying siege to Kaifeng.]
In the Han general's residence, Zhang Fei pointed at the luminous screen, his brows knotted.
"They signed such a disgraceful treaty and still went out of their way to deliver it. Is that not sheer stupidity?"
Jian Yong let out a quiet sigh. "Better to be a dog in peaceful times than a man in an age of chaos."
No one disagreed.
[Lightscreen]
[In Bianliang, Qinzong's stance shifted yet again under pressure from the faction that urged resistance, led by Li Gang. He resolved to break the agreement with Jin and attempt to relieve Taiyuan.
The Jin army prepared thoroughly and advanced south once more. At this truly decisive battle that determined the fate of the Northern Song, Qinzong displayed what could only be described as an inherited tradition from Zhao Guangyi.
Chancellor Sun Fu, relying solely on a prophecy that read "Guo Jing, Yang Shi, Liu Wuji," entrusted military command to Guo Jing, a man who claimed he could summon heavenly soldiers through the Six Jia ritual. Guo Jing was granted the rank of Chengzhong Lang, awarded gold, and presented with a residence.
When Kaifeng was surrounded, Guo Jing ordered the city gates flung open and sent forth the so-called Six Jia troops, selected according to their birth dates and eight characters.
The city fell.
The dynasty fell with it.
The Northern Song's war of annihilation was not stirring or heroic. Words, however numerous, could scarcely convey even a fraction of its humiliation, so later historians often recorded it with painful brevity.
The Yongle Encyclopedia of the Ming would write simply: "The Jingkang Incident. No shame greater."
On the screen appeared the grim record that later generations could hardly bear to read:
Long journeys on horseback. Wind, rain, hunger, and cold. Corpses strewn along the road. Women and children unable to ride were abandoned by the wayside.
Killings like cutting hemp. The stench carried for hundreds of li.
Women distributed among households. Nine out of ten forced into prostitution. Lives extinguished.
Qinzong's empress, unable to endure humiliation, left behind a final verse before ending her life:
"Once I dwelt in heaven, in jeweled palaces of jade.
Now I enter the wilderness, unspeakable my fate.
Bending my body, crushing my will, when shall this hatred fade?
I swear to hasten to the Yellow Springs, only there can this sorrow end."]
In the palace hall, Liu Han, Imperial Medical Attendant, might not have understood military strategy, but he could understand the shifting borders shown on the screen. When he grasped what this meant for families like his own, his body weakened.
His family was from Cangzhou. He served in Bianliang. His descendants would never escape these lands, and therefore would not escape this catastrophe.
He bent slightly, his stomach twisting, then raised red-rimmed eyes toward Zhao Pu.
"Lord Zhao," he asked hoarsely, "did my descendants suffer this humiliation?"
Zhao Pu instinctively reached to steady him, then met his gaze and could only nod, slow and heavy.
Within the hall, someone struggled to suppress a sob.
It was not grief for oneself.
It was grief for descendants.
Elsewhere, Liu Bei stood before a hanging map and measured distances with his hand, calculating with the simple arithmetic he had recently learned.
"From Youzhou to Chenliu. More than fifteen hundred li. And they arrived within a month."
The speed was troubling. More troubling still was how, having advanced so deeply into hostile territory, they managed to encircle the capital itself.
"If even a few prefectures along the way had offered resistance," Liu Bei murmured, "it might not have reached this point."
Zhang Fei snorted. "If those two emperors had any sense of shame, they would have ended themselves early and spared the fighting men of Song this disgrace."
Liu Bei shot him a sideways glance but did not rebuke him.
After a moment he asked quietly, "Is the civil service examination truly a system that strengthens the state and benefits the people?"
He had discussed the matter privately with Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and even Lu Su. All believed that the Northern Song's institutional foundations contained much worth studying.
In less than a century, officials produced by the examination system had begun to question and attempt to reform it. Zhuge Liang admired that spirit.
It was also true that in later years the examinations produced many who were eloquent but impractical. Yet Wang Anshi and his determined reforming colleagues had likewise emerged from that same system.
The system itself was not devoid of talent.
The tragedy lay elsewhere.
Zhao Kuangyin's face remained dark.
"To drive away wolves with blades brings peace. To drive them away with grain and meat ensures one's own ruin."
Even Liu Han understood the comparison.
Zhao Kuangyin exhaled slowly.
"Zhao Guangyi delights in auspicious signs. Very well. Convert his residence into a temple. I will personally grant him ordination papers. Let him chant sutras daily and eat vegetarian fare. At the very least, he will cease bringing harm to others."
Zhao Pu bowed deeply. "As Your Majesty commands."
The hall fell silent.
The shame of Jingkang would echo for centuries.
No shame greater.