Chapter 1180: Anxieties in the Hall of State Affairs

The Western Capital, the Imperial City, the Hall of State Affairs.

Since the court's relocation to Luoyang, after more than three months of adjustment and transition, the government had finally settled completely, with all affairs unfolding in an orderly manner as it managed the great matters of state and military.

Though the location had changed, the Hall of State Affairs remained the highest authority of the Great Han, and since the start of autumn, the court faced only two matters of greatest and most vital importance.

The first was the disaster situation in the prefectures of Shan, Huai, Jin, and Jiang. In recent years, various famines and calamities had never ceased across the Great Han — last year there were floods in the Central Plains, and a few years later droughts struck elsewhere. Clearly, even an age of peace and prosperity could not prevent natural disasters. However, in matters of disaster relief and famine aid, the court had ample experience and a complete set of relief procedures — simply following the regulations sufficed.

Moreover, in the Jin and Shan regions, the frequency of disasters in recent years had been quite high, and previously many officials had been subjected to extremely severe punishment for inadequate relief efforts, improper handling, or even exploiting the situation for personal profit.

Thus, this time, in the first year after the court's westward move to Luoyang, the bureaucrats in the affected areas were all working diligently — whether for their own fame and fortune or out of genuine concern for the common people, they all fulfilled their duties faithfully.

And the result was that although this drought affected several prefectures, it did not cause large-scale famine. This was due both to the capable officials and to the completeness of the granary system, which allowed timely regulation and relief. The local censors, inspectors, and officials dispatched by the court to tour the regions all reported in much the same terms. After the disaster was brought under control, the Hall of State Affairs even issued a special decree commending several officials who had distinguished themselves in relief work.

The second matter was, naturally, the campaign against Dali. After all, it was the largest mobilization of troops since the beginning of the Kaibao era, and on the surface, it nearly matched the scale of the pacification of the south years ago.

Regarding this southern expedition, the court was naturally not of one mind, even with Emperor Liu's decision and the management of the newly appointed chancellor Zhao Pu.

There was considerable criticism from all sides, partly because Dali had submitted with humble words and gifts — after all, they had only just sent heavy tribute to show their sincerity, and the Great Han turned around and broke faith, launching a massive invasion. It looked rather unsightly, naked hegemonism.

Of course, the main reason was that most people felt the court was investing so many troops, money, and grain in stirring up such a war of annihilation in the southwest — it simply wasn't worth it. Many drew analogies to the war between the Great Tang and Nanzhao in the final years of the Tianbao era, and quite a few poems were composed using history to criticize the present...

Judging by Emperor Liu's actions in recent years, labels like "fond of grandiose achievements" and "ceaselessly expanding borders" could indeed be pasted onto him. However, no matter how much discussion went on behind the scenes, it could not change the fact that the court's great army was marching south. The front fought, the rear supported, and all work proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Public opinion was of no consequence to Emperor Liu, and he basically paid it no heed. After all, by now, officials daring to speak frankly in remonstrance were fewer and fewer, and those who expressed their views through poetry could only wait for later generations to interpret them.

In comparison, the one most affected and feeling the greatest pressure was a single man: Zhao Pu. Not everyone was convinced by his appointment as chancellor, and it was precisely he who most strongly supported Emperor Liu's southern expedition and who was chiefly responsible for assisting the Crown Prince in handling rear-area affairs for the campaign.

Naturally, he attracted many envious, jealous, and hateful glances. If the southern expedition succeeded, all would be well; but if there were any misstep, or the army returned without merit, suffered heavy losses, or even suffered a complete defeat, then the tide of opinion at court would truly erupt.

Under normal circumstances, no one would dare target the Emperor or rake up old accounts against his decisions with belated criticism. But against Zhao Pu, it was a different matter.

Zhao Pu was a mature and exceptionally shrewd politician who saw his own situation clearly, and thus felt deep pressure. If the southern expedition truly failed, and the court needed someone to take the blame, he would be the most suitable candidate — and he might well become a chancellor dismissed less than a year after taking office...

Of course, with such crisis also came opportunity. If the southern expedition were handled well and succeeded, then he would stand firm at court, and his position as chancellor would be thoroughly consolidated.

Zhao Pu had weighed the pros and cons. At worst, he would return home to idle for a year or two, and the chance to rise again would absolutely come. Such a choice was not difficult for Zhao Pu to make.

In Luoyang in September, the weather had already turned quite cold, and everyone had thickened their clothing. In the Hall of State Affairs, the one on duty today was Zhao Pu, seated at his desk, buried in reviewing and approving memorials submitted by the various ministries and bureaus.

A map hung to the side, and before it stood two figures — one tall, one short, one robust, one slight — namely the Crown Prince Liu Yang and Duke of Rong, Zhao Kuangyin.

What hung there was naturally a map of Dali, and from the look of it, it was indeed a vast expanse of territory. Of course, compared to the increasingly detailed maps of the Great Han's circuits and prefectures, refined through years of revision and correction, this map was far too crude.

Even the borders could not be confirmed. On it were marked only a few roads and the main cities, mountains, and rivers within Dali. Not to mention that, unlike the Great Han's maps, which came with a specially compiled companion gazetteer of circuits and prefectures for convenient reference, this one had nothing of the sort. The route taken by Wang Quanbin's western army could not even be represented on the map at all.

"Another five days, and still no battle reports from the south!" Liu Yang finally spoke after staring at the map for a long time and thinking for a long time.

Zhao Kuangyin, standing at his side, said calmly: "The southwest is far from here, with high mountains and long roads, rugged terrain, and inconvenient travel. Even with urgent military dispatches, under the most favorable circumstances, it takes about twenty days. The latest battle report should be on its way!"

Liu Yang was not unaware of this situation; it was merely that his heart was filled with concern and anxiety. After a moment of deliberation, he sighed: "I wonder how the progress is — whether Wang Renshan has taken Nongdong and is advancing on the enemy capital!"

Although the court gave the frontline commanders great autonomy in tactics and strategy, Wang Quanbin still reported his plans to the court for explanation. Subsequent battle conditions were also regularly communicated through the military relay stations.

Hearing this, Zhao Kuangyin said: "The terrain is severely restrictive. If the Dali army chooses to defend to the death, even with our elite troops and sharp weapons, breaking them will require considerable effort. However, the eastern army is well prepared, and Wang Renshan is skilled at commanding troops. As long as military supplies are guaranteed and the rear is secure, with sufficient manpower and material, the Dali army should not be able to withstand a frontal assault!"

Zhao Kuangyin's words carried a note of comfort. However, regarding a battlefield thousands of li away in the southwest, the court's control was naturally weak, and worry was unavoidable.

On the matter of the campaign against Dali, Zhao Kuangyin actually sided with some of the civil officials — he held a dissenting opinion. Nevertheless, during this period, he still did his utmost to assist Liu Yang, focusing on analyzing the southwestern war situation, while the affairs of the Ministry of War were handed over to his deputy Murong Chengtai. As Minister of War, he now served more like an advisor to the Crown Prince...

"Compared to the progress in the Nongdong direction, I am more worried about the safety of Wang Quanbin of the western army!" Zhao Kuangyin said gravely.

"Indeed!" Liu Yang took up the thread: "After all, it's been so long with no word at all. More than twenty-five thousand soldiers — if..."

"Wang Quanbin took too great a risk!" Zhao Kuangyin said.

At this, Liu Yang couldn't help but raise a question: "Duke of Rong, I recall that when the imperial army pacified Shu back then, the northern army also dispatched a detached force that took mountain paths to bypass the Shu army's fortifications, striking directly at their rear, and with a two-pronged attack, achieved a great victory. Now General Wang is employing the same kind of tactics — why do you seem unoptimistic?"

"Your Highness, the strategies are similar, but the circumstances are vastly different!" Zhao Kuangyin shook his head: "The route Wang Quanbin is taking is longer, the terrain more perilous, and the losses during the march will inevitably be enormous. Moreover, if the army were to lose its way in there, the entire force would be destroyed. And even if he successfully traverses the dangers and breaks into Dali, whether he can reach Yangxiemie City is equally uncertain. Wang Quanbin's desire to take the city and destroy the state in one stroke shows admirable courage, but he left no retreat — it's too reckless..."

"By your judgment, Duke of Rong, is the western army in great danger?" Liu Yang furrowed his brow.

Zhao Kuangyin fell silent for a moment, then spoke again in a reassuring tone: "This perilous road has already been trodden, and there is no turning back. Now, all we can do is wish Wang Quanbin and the soldiers of the western army success!"

Zhao Kuangyin's words made Liu Yang's brow furrow even more tightly. Seeing this, he relented: "However, if they do succeed, catching the enemy off guard, the results achieved will certainly be significant. Even if they only reach the northwest of Dali and cannot directly assault the enemy capital, they can still form a pincer movement — with the eastern and western armies coordinating, the advantage in the war remains in our hands!"

Perhaps Zhao Kuangyin's earlier words had too deep an impact on Liu Yang, for these words of consolation could not ease his worry.