Chapter 269: Finally Making Up His Mind

Just as the rebellion in the north came to an end, the southern lands as a whole remained relatively tranquil—no wars erupting, no chaos stirring.

Southern Tang, Jiangning Prefecture, Jinling. This grandest and most prosperous city of the south retained its splendor. Since the chaos of the late Tang, through the management of the Wu and Tang regimes, it had been three or four decades since any major warfare had touched it—a rare thing indeed.

Along both banks of the Qinhuai River, markets stood thick, merchants gathered like clouds. Around Jinling city and its surrounding regions, the economy flourished and culture thrived. Even as news of war and upheaval from the western borders of the northern realm continued to arrive, this place still presented a scene of prosperous governance.

The Mid-Autumn Festival had just passed, and within and without Jinling, the festive afterglow of the holiday still lingered. Truly, peace had lasted so long that the entire city's atmosphere carried an air of indulgence and pleasure-seeking—from the high officials and nobles down to the common folk. Though Jinling was wealthy, it still had its poor and destitute, yet even the beggars in the streets seemed somewhat at ease.

Jinling had long served as a capital. Though its history was ancient and its foundations deep, it had risen and fallen several times. The imperial city had been expanded upon the foundations of the former Yang Wu Jiangning Prefectural offices—no small scale, lavish and magnificent.

A spacious carriage slowly made its way down the broad, level avenue toward the southern gate of the imperial city. Judging by the carriage's ornamentation and its purple-and-yellow livery, its master was surely of royal blood. Within the carriage sat a young man with sharply defined features and a grave, solemn bearing, his purple python robe exuding a powerful air of nobility.

He was the eldest son of Southern Tang Emperor Li Jing—the Prince of Yan, Li Hongji. Though young in years, he already kept a somewhat thick stubble of beard. A contemplative expression floated across his calm face as he occasionally stroked his neatly trimmed whiskers.

Last year, when his uncle Li Jingsui had been established as Imperial Younger Brother (Heir), with the understanding that the throne would pass between brothers, he—the eldest imperial son—had been sent out to the eastern capital Yangzhou, and later transferred to guard Runzhou. Though Li Hongji was young, he had always harbored ambition, and with the hot blood of youth, he was deeply resentful. This return to the capital from Runzhou was not merely to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival, but also to press the matter of "dispatching troops" for a northern campaign.

Previously, before Li Shouzhen had plotted his rebellion, he had secretly maintained ongoing contact with the Southern Tang side. Once he raised his revolt, he again sent envoys by hidden paths to Jinling, jointly inviting them to dispatch troops. On this matter—whether or not to send troops—the Southern Tang ruler and ministers attached great importance, holding several court deliberations. But as usual, the court was split into two factions with irreconcilable views, endlessly bickering. Over a month of debate passed, the Mid-Autumn Festival came and went, and still no conclusion was reached...

"A matter of such military gravity, delayed and unresolved to this day. All these courtiers filling the court are nothing but sinecure-holding parasites—utterly incompetent. What use is keeping them?" Thinking of the court situation he had gathered over the past two days, Li Hongji suddenly erupted, slamming hard against the carriage wall, his expression cold and sharp as he cursed.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, seemingly startled by the commotion within. After pausing for a moment with no further sound, he threw open the curtain and snapped outward: "Why have we stopped?"

Li Hongji was ordinarily a man of deep composure, but in truth his temperament was jealous, impatient, and quick to explode at the slightest displeasure.

The guard driving the carriage hastily reported: "The carriage of His Highness the Imperial Younger Brother (Heir) is ahead."

What a coincidence. A flicker of displeasure crossed Li Hongji's expression. He leaned out, stepped on the carriage shaft, and leaped to the ground. At the side street intersection, an even more luxurious carriage stood waiting. A mild-featured young man in resplendent robes, assisted by his guards, was slowly descending from the carriage. Seeing Li Hongji, he offered a humble smile and greeted him: "Hongji."

"Imperial Uncle." Li Hongji clasped his hands in a perfunctory salute, his attitude lukewarm. The distance between uncle and nephew was palpable: "Is Imperial Uncle also heading to the palace?"

"His Majesty has summoned me; I dare not be slow." Li Jingsui replied, still smiling.

Li Jingsui appeared humble, courteous, serene, and refined—but in Li Hongji's eyes, this only bred greater aversion. He simply could not stand his imperial uncle's scholarly, easygoing demeanor, finding it nothing but pretense.

"If Hongji is in a hurry, you may go on ahead." Sensing Li Hongji's cold hardness, Li Jingsui gestured.

"With the Imperial Younger Brother (Heir) ahead, how would I dare overstep?" Li Hongji, evidently not entirely without guile, replied flatly: "Imperial Uncle should go first."

With that brief exchange, the distance between uncle and nephew was plain to see. Li Jingsui, mild by nature, maintained his composure throughout—only as he turned back to board his carriage did he let out a silent sigh, his expression deeply troubled.

The image Li Jingsui presented to others was one of humble courtesy, gentlemanly bearing, and no ambition for power. In the year since being established as Imperial Younger Brother (Heir), he had been constantly anxious and fearful, conducting himself with exceptional low-key caution. Had Emperor Li Jing been without issue, it would have been one thing—but with a grown imperial prince like Li Hongji in existence, especially one whose temperament he had watched develop since childhood, his concerns ran deep.

In the Qinzheng Hall, as all assembled and the formalities were completed, the debate over dispatching troops resumed once more. An ancient, decrepit minister was the first to step forward, hunched over with age, speaking in a frail, hoarse voice: "Your Majesty, the northern troops are fierce and formidable. The Great Tang's army is unaccustomed to land warfare and has not clashed with northern forces for many years. At present, the Liu clan has already secured the Central Plains. Though Li Shouzhen has rebelled, the situation remains unclear—we truly must not act rashly..."

The speaker was Li Jianxun, a founding minister of the Southern Tang. At seventy years of age, frail and failing, barely able to string his words together, he was nevertheless still honored as Vice Director of the Chancellery and Chief Minister. What he said was the same old tune—northern troops fierce, situation unsettled, and so forth. His stance was clear: he opposed dispatching troops.

No sooner had he finished than someone immediately rebutted, also with the same old arguments—invoking the recovery of the Central Plains and the restoration of the old capital. Such slogans had been shouted by the Southern Tang side for a long time now, hollow as could be.

They shouted it when the Khitan destroyed the Jin; they shouted it when the Liu family entered the Central Plains; they shouted it when the Later Shu attacked Guanzhong; and now with Li Shouzhen's rebellion, they could still trot it out to express political stance. That is—the slogans rang loud, but never once translated into action.

During these one or two years of turbulent change in the Central Plains, the Southern Tang's most active move—apart from offending the Great Han—had been sending the former Jin Mizhou Prefect Huangfu Hui, who had defected south, to recruit and connect with the bandits of Huainan. But after Liu Chengyou's vigorous bandit-suppression campaigns within his borders this year, there was no follow-through.

The Southern Tang courtiers were steeped in literary culture—some skilled at rhapsodies, some adept at poetry, some gifted at prose. Quick-witted and eloquent, once such debates began, they would drag on endlessly. It had always been this way.

Emperor Li Jing sat upon the throne. He delighted in discussing literature and poetry with his ministers, but matters of state always vexed him—especially when the entire court was locked in endless argument.

"Enough!" At last he could no longer contain himself, his voice tinged with anger. Sweeping his gaze over the assembled ministers, he could not help but sigh softly: "If only Feng Zhengzhong and Han Shuyan were here—how could I be so troubled?"

Li Jing's words were merely an expression of feeling, but had those two truly been at court, the arguments would likely have been even fiercer. The Feng and Han he referred to were former Chancellor Feng Yansi and Secretariat Drafter Han Xizai. These two were the ministers Li Jing trusted most.

In the years since Li Jing had succeeded the throne, the Southern Tang court had essentially formed two factions. One was led by founding meritorious elders like Song Qiqiu, Feng Yansi, and Chen Jue; the other by literati who had crossed south from the Central Plains, such as Han Xizai and Jiang Wenwei. The two factions clashed fiercely.

At present, however, neither was in Jinling—Li Jing had banished them all to the provinces. Previously, during the pacification of Min, regarding the remnant Wang clan forces in Fuzhou and Zhangzhou, Li Jing had been inclined to cease hostilities and offer amnesty. But Chen Jue, then Commissioner of Military Affairs, had forged an imperial decree to dispatch troops, joining Tang generals Feng Yanlu and Zha Wenhui in campaigning against Li Renda, who had usurped Fuzhou. In the end, Wuyue sent troops, striking from both sides, and the Tang army suffered a great defeat.

This was trouble stirred up by the Song-Feng faction, so naturally they had to clean up their own mess. Through mediation, Chen Jue and Feng Yanlu and the others managed to escape the death penalty—especially Chen Jue, who had forged an edict to attack and suffered a crushing defeat; such a grave crime warranted only demotion. Han Xizai, Jiang Wenwei, and others naturally refused to accept this, impeaching Song Qiqiu and Feng Yansi for ruining the state and disrupting the army, which led to those two also being demoted.

The Song-Feng faction naturally refused to accept this either, and soon found pretexts to counter-impeach Han Xizai and Jiang Wenwei. Li Jing, weary of the endless squabbling, simply banished those two as well.

The factional struggle thus came to a temporary halt. But though the men had left, their forces at court continued to clash fiercely. Factional strife had become the primary contradiction of the Southern Tang court—by comparison, the succession struggle could only be described as mild. The Prince of Yan, Li Hongji, had not yet grown his wings and could not stir up much of a stir.

"What does the Imperial Younger Brother (Heir) think?" Taking a deep breath, Li Jing asked Li Jingsui.

Li Jingsui, below, swept his gaze over the sharply divided ministers, his expression conflicted. After a moment's thought, he bowed and said: "War is fraught with danger. I believe we should observe a while longer before making any decision."

"If we keep observing, once the Central Plains situation is settled, any decision we make will be too late!" The words had barely fallen when a young, forceful voice of rebuttal rang out.

Li Jing frowned, glancing at Li Hongji, who had stepped forward with an audacious, boastful air. He had never cared for this hot-tempered son, finding him lacking in literary refinement and unlike himself.

Li Hongji, of course, had no such awareness. He stated his views directly, declaring in a clear voice: "Your Majesty, our court's relations with the Central Plains are deeply hostile, and border disputes are frequent. If we do not now take advantage of their difficulties and send troops across the Huai, then surely the northern troops will invade south in days to come! All of you argue endlessly over this matter without any concrete action. In my view, the optimal moment has already passed—if we do not act now, there is no further need to discuss it!"

At these words, every ruler and minister in the hall changed expression. This Prince of Yan was truly young and hot-blooded.

"Let us set this matter aside for now. I shall consider it. Court is dismissed."

In the end, no conclusion was reached. Li Jing returned to his bedchamber, listless and dispirited.

If one followed Li Jing's true inclinations, he did still harbor some desire to dispatch troops. The Southern Tang's national strength was at its peak; though his temperament was mild, he was still a sovereign, and the ambition to expand territory and establish merit burned within him. Previously, seizing the opportunity of Min's internal chaos to destroy the Wang clan and take the Min lands had been a great boost to his prestige—of course, setting aside the subsequent defeats.

But every time he heard the conservative faction cite objective factors—northern troops fierce, Min lands unstable, Wuyue a threat—his heart would shrink back.

In the palace, he deliberated long, wavering and indecisive. Finally, that very night, Li Jing made up his mind and issued the edict to dispatch troops. He appointed Li Jinquan, Military Governor of Zhenhai, as Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Field Headquarters, leading thirty thousand Huainan troops north to relieve Hezhong, while also sending ten thousand imperial troops north from Jinling.

Before half a day had passed since the edict was issued, news arrived from the north: the Han Emperor had personally led a hundred thousand elite troops on a western campaign to suppress the rebellion, and Li Shouzhen had already been destroyed by the Han army six days prior—his city breached, his person dead.

One piece of news silenced the entire court. Then the conservatives, who had just been suppressed, rose again, vigorously petitioning the Emperor to halt the campaign. Clearly deeply startled by the Han army's combat capability, Li Jing, under a chorus of persuasion, humbly accepted the counsel. He urgently dispatched a eunuch bearing a golden tally north to recall the envoy delivering the edict, and only issued orders for the prefectures and garrisons along the Huai River to strengthen border defenses.

Additionally, the Prince of Yan, Li Hongji, was once again sent back to Runzhou.