Chapter 1056: The Storm

The residence of Duke of Bo, Anping Ward, southern Kaifeng.

Kaifeng was the capital, where the powerful and privileged were many, but even the powerful were ranked by grade, measured by their authority and imperial favor. Among the few who had risen highest in court prestige and stood most prominent in recent years was Zhao Kuangyin, Duke of Bo.

Beyond his outstanding military talent and solid record of merit, Zhao Kuangyin had long been paired with Guo Rong as "Chai and Zhao," a figure of no small weight in the Great Han's military and political system. He was magnanimous by nature, open and generous, unconstrained by petty formalities, and handled interpersonal relations well, enjoying broad popularity. Besides military and civil officials, many men of valor came calling on him out of admiration.

Of course, Zhao Kuangyin's political awareness was quite high. When he noticed his gate crowded like a marketplace, with officials and officers coming to curry favor and seek connections, he decisively kept a low profile. A gathering of dignitaries and praise from ten thousand might satisfy vanity, but it was not necessarily a blessing. At such times Zhao Kuangyin felt unsettled, so he decisively instructed his retainers to refuse all irrelevant visitors, not fearing to offend. Official business had its proper offices; for private matters, the Zhao gate was hard to enter.

When word spread, it stirred some discussion in the capital. When it reached the Emperor's ears, he merely smiled and praised Zhao Kuangyin's insight and bearing.

Still, it was not a complete closing of the door to guests. Relatives, comrades-in-arms, fellow soldiers, and old subordinates—maintaining contact and socializing with them in daily life was still done, and done with an open heart.

Factionalism, whether in the military or in politics, in any era, was an unavoidable problem. Human sentiment was so, the environment was so. In the early years, when Emperor Liu's position was unsteady, he had detested it deeply, and from Su Fengji to Shi Hongzhao to Yang Bin, all had been targets of his strikes. Later, as his imperial position stabilized, his views gradually shifted. To ban "factions" outright was simply impossible; what should be striven for was opposing private cliques and opposing the persecution of dissenters.

At this moment, the Duke of Bo's residence was rather lively. Zhao Kuangyin had set up a banquet here to entertain arriving guests, and the guests were almost all military men—such as Dang Jin, Han Lingkun, Li Jixun, and others—either comrades of many years, old friends, or kindred spirits. These men were now all important generals of the court, each bearing military merit.

In ordinary times, social intercourse was hardly lacking, but gatherings so concentrated as this were still relatively rare. In light of this, Zhao Kuangyin threw open the central gate and feasted them in the main hall, letting anyone observe, to show his openness.

The spring chill was biting, yet the main hall of the Duke of Bo's residence was bustling, the atmosphere especially high. The household servants came and went, continuously adding food, dishes, and wine to the tables, while the musicians and dancing girls kept by the ducal residence performed with abandon.

Zhao Kuangyin was a lover of wine—this was known throughout court and country—and whenever he drank, he drank until drunk. Therefore, at this ducal banquet, the one thing never lacking, and never to be lacking, was fine aged wine.

To entertain his comrades and friends, he even brought out the imperial wine bestowed by the Emperor, along with some aged vintages from the wine cellar, sharing them with all. Bowl after bowl was drained, drinking with fiery enthusiasm. In Zhao Kuangyin's view, since they rarely gathered together, he should entertain them well—whatever there was to say could wait until they had drunk their fill and their pleasure...

It was not until the banquet reached its height that Dang Jin suddenly set down his wine cup and let out a long sigh. His face showed drunkenness, but there was also a touch of posturing. Seeing this, Zhao Kuangyin downed the half bowl of wine remaining in his hand in one gulp, wiped his mouth, smiled slightly, and asked: "Brother Dang, why the sigh? Could it be that my family's wine is not fine enough?"

At the question, Dang Jin said: "The wine of Chancellor Zhao's household is naturally fine brew, pleasant to drink. I am regretting that last year I did not kowtow before Your Majesty and request to join the southern campaign, to earn a bit more military merit!"

Hearing this, a strange glint flashed through Zhao Kuangyin's drunken eyes, and he said: "The southern campaign army has already returned in triumph one after another—why bring this up now? You, Patrol Inspector Dang, with your great reputation, still covet that little bit of merit?"

Only then did Dang Jin say: "It is not that I covet merit, only that I fear old achievements grow distant and are forgotten by men!"

What Dang Jin's words obliquely referred to, most of those present basically understood. Zhao Kuangyin in his heart also knew clearly, but still he laughed lightly and comforted: "Over all these years, has the court ever treated its meritorious subjects poorly? You are overthinking this."

At this, Dang Jin now spoke plainly: "The Chancellor's merit is great, and how much His Majesty relies on you—you naturally stand at the forefront of the Qianyou meritorious. It is only men like us, lost among the crowd, who fear that after those chief ministers settle accounts, how much of our military merit will remain? Who knows whether in the end, this Marquis of mine can still be kept?"

During this period, as the "Kaibao Grand Ceremony" approached, while the capital's atmosphere grew ever more joyous, all sorts of rumors were also flying—especially regarding the ranking of Qianyou meritorious subjects, the re-determination of merit and noble titles, and the matter of rewards. After all, this involved the fame and status of the Great Han's generals and ministers, touching their vital interests.

There is no wall in this world that cannot be penetrated by wind, especially within the court. As the "group of five" led by Wei Renpu began their work of assessing merit, various rumors—some true, some false, some plausible—spread abroad. What made people most tense was that many of the original high honors and heavy titles were being reduced. Representative examples were Duke of Dingguo Zhang Yanwei and Commandery Duke of Wuwei Sun Li, both demoted in rank as reward for merit. These two were the Emperor's trusted generals and ministers—if even they could not keep their original titles, what of the others?

Rumors of demotion also spread concerning titles such as Duke of Fen, Duke of Jing, Duke of Hua, and Duke of Shan. Those able to retain their current titles were few. With reductions, there were naturally also additions—most of them being commanders who had participated in the southern campaign.

Because this was an overall retroactive assessment and reward of the Qianyou meritorious, touching every aspect—civil and military, inner and outer, capital and frontier—truly sorting out a first, second, third, and fourth, and producing a list convincing to all, was still extremely difficult.

Indeed, before the court had even formally issued the rewards, meritorious veterans like Dang Jin were already growing restless. After all, their interests were at stake—everyone had fought desperately to kill enemies and build merit, and for what? Was it not wealth and honor, power and position? What was already in hand, if the court now adjusted, demoted, or even took back—how could they be willing?

Regarding this storm, Zhao Kuangyin was in fact completely clear in his heart, and knew the concerns of Dang Jin and the others. However, he truly could not say much on the matter, nor give them promises. After all, the one assessing merit and granting rewards was the court, was the Emperor—could these men defy the imperial command? Would they dare to press their merit for reward?

Moreover, to be fair, in the Great Han of today, were all the titles, meritorious subjects, and honorary ranks, inside and out, truly granted for merit? Were their contributions to the state worth the court spending so much money and grain every year to support them?

Some matters, only when one reached Zhao Kuangyin's position, could one glimpse certain thoughts and approaches in the Emperor's conduct. In fact, in this merit assessment and re-determination of titles and stipends, those most affected were the old honors and old titles tracing back to the Jin, Tang, and Liang. The Emperor had long found them displeasing; in the early years it had been a matter of taking over the inheritance, and for the sake of quickly settling the realm and stabilizing hearts, he had accepted them all as they were.

By now, Emperor Liu clearly could no longer tolerate those who had rendered no actual service to the Great Han's founding and unified development continuing to enjoy the state's treatment as a matter of course.

Noting the gazes of the assembled men, Zhao Kuangyin suddenly burst into loud laughter, the laughter lasting a long while, leaving the gathered generals utterly bewildered.

It was Han Lingkun who asked: "Why does the Chancellor laugh? Could it be that you find our concerns laughable?"

Zhao Kuangyin waved his hand and said: "All of you gentlemen present are meritorious subjects of the Great Han—not one of you lacks military merit. When you galloped across the battlefield, killing enemies and building merit, what bold spirit that was! How is it that now you are tangled up over this fame and profit?"

Not waiting for a response, Zhao Kuangyin continued: "Let me ask you—over all these years, has His Majesty and the court ever treated you poorly? Have your achievements and merits ever been forgotten or neglected? Has there ever been a time of unjust reward?"

Facing this question, Han Lingkun's expression shifted slightly, as if he had something to say—though of course, he did not dare actually say it, for that would truly confirm dissatisfaction with the court's rewards.

"Past merits, fame, rank, and profit—the court has never been lacking. Now that the realm is unified and the court re-determines titles and stipends to settle standards and establish institutions, are you still afraid His Majesty will be unjust?" Zhao Kuangyin asked again in rebuttal, his tone growing several degrees more severe.

"You came together to visit me—and what would you have me do? Must I enter the palace to plead for merit and seek rewards on your behalf?"

Perhaps Dang Jin and the others did mean exactly that, but feeling Zhao Kuangyin's tone, they did not dare voice it. It was Li Jixun, more seasoned and second only to Zhao Kuangyin in standing, who raised his cup and said with a smile: "Our merits are all clearly recorded in the registers—how could His Majesty and the court forget them? Moreover, even if adjustments are to be made, would it be only us? As for the outcome, we shall know on the day of the grand ceremony! We came to find Chancellor Zhao for a drink, not to cause him trouble. Let us drink together and dissolve our worries..."