Chapter 469: National Calamity and the Loss of a Son, Yet There Remain Good Generals

Feng Yansi rose at this moment and said, "Your Majesty, Guo Tingwei, the Militia Commissioner of Haozhou, is both wise and brave, skilled in the art of war. I have investigated thoroughly—when facing the Han army, his leadership and responses have shown great strategy. The earlier defeat was truly due to He Yanxi's reckless advance without preparation, while Guo Tingwei gathered the remaining troops and boats, preserved his forces, and withdrew to hold Sizhou."

"The loss of Haozhou came from divided command. Now with Sizhou in crisis, we need a commander of wisdom and courage to defend it. My younger brother Yanlu lacks such ability and may well jeopardize the grand military strategy of the state. I request that he be transferred away, and that Guo Tingwei be placed in command of Xuyi..."

Li Jing had already lost his composure; hearing these words, which seemed quite reasonable, and sensing Feng Yansi's "selflessness," he approved. Of course, any discerning person could see that Feng Yansi, seeing Sizhou had become a place of peril, was making arrangements for his younger brother Feng Yanlu.

Even among his own faction's ministers, some could not help but feel contempt for Feng Yansi's motives. Though the Southern Tang's courtly atmosphere floated on literary refinement, in this time of national crisis there were still many ministers who possessed the backbone of true literati, loyal to the Tang court.

After this round of military and political discussion, Li Jing appeared utterly exhausted, as if struck by a heavy blow. He ordered the assembled ministers to withdraw and attend to their respective military and governmental duties.

In the heavy atmosphere, the Tang ministers, led by Song Qiqiu, filed out of the hall one after another. The foremost strategist of the Southern Tang—even his aged eyes were filled with worry. He turned to gaze far to the north; in the bleak sky, it seemed storm clouds surged and rolled, like a black dragon undulating, baring its fangs.

By now, the situation north of the Yangtze changed every few days, and Song Qiqiu no longer had much confidence in his own defensive strategies. No matter how good the plan, it depended on the men executing it—and moreover, with the cunning and adaptability of the Northern Han ruler and his ministers, they were hardly easy to deal with.

In just this short month and a half, so many wise and brave generals had risen to prominence. But as a founding minister of the Great Tang, whose lifelong honor and reputation were bound to the state, facing this national crisis, he could only do his utmost and leave the rest to Heaven's will.

The Central Plains could not remain in chaos forever—when a great sovereign arises, the realm submits.

Such a thought suddenly flashed through Song Qiqiu's mind. In his reverie, his somewhat clouded eyes cleared once more, and a trace of resolve emerged on his weathered face. As long as this old frame of his was still of use, he would scheme for the state and resist the northern invaders with all his might. Song Qiqiu made this resolution—as for what came after his death, that was beyond his ability to concern himself with.

Li Jing, heavy of heart, returned to Chengxin Hall, the place where he once studied and wrote. Sensing that the state faced hardship, Empress Zhong personally came to keep him company. Li Jing and Empress Zhong had been husband and wife for over twenty years, a harmonious union; with her companionship, his mood improved somewhat.

But later that evening, another piece of grievous news arrived—this time not about Huainan military affairs, but that the Emperor's second son, the Prince of Le'an, Li Hongmao, had passed away. Upon hearing this, Li Jing's spirit was shattered; he spat blood and fainted outright. It was truly a case of "when it rains, it pours."

Li Jing had many sons, but unfortunately, most died young—especially the elder ones. From the third son to the fifth, all perished in childhood, subjecting Li Jing to the pain of losing a child again and again.

Only the eldest son, Li Hongji, had a sturdier fate, possessing courage and ambition, stationed outside at Runzhou. The second son, Li Hongmao, had been clever since childhood, with a handsome and refined appearance and literary talent. He had grown to adulthood, aged nineteen—and then suddenly passed away.

At this time of national crisis, enduring once more the tragedy of the gray-haired burying the black-haired, struck by blow after blow, Li Jing could hardly bear it. Within the palace city of Jinling, the atmosphere was steeped in grief, and Emperor Li Jing ultimately fell ill.

The Imperial Younger Brother (Heir) Li Jingsui was appointed to oversee state affairs, with the assembled ministers assisting him in handling military and governmental matters and responding to external threats. Li Jing himself chose to attend to his beloved son's funeral arrangements—a choice that was not without an element of escape...

For a time, the Southern Tang appeared to be in a state of precarious instability.

The Southern Tang had long been renowned for its flourishing literary culture; the entire court was filled with poets, and Li Jing governed through verse and rhetoric, using civil refinement to restrain the military, greatly promoting the ethos of literary virtue. But at this time, the Southern Tang still enjoyed the legacy of the late founder Li Bian, and there were still many capable people both in and out of court.

The Southern Tang's armies were not without capable commanders—for instance, He Jingzhu of Shouzhou, Liu Renshan of Ezhou, Guo Tingwei of Haozhou, and Xu Wenzhen of Luzhou. That was not a small number, but among these men, few truly received Li Jing's regard.

It was only in times of national crisis that the conduct of loyal ministers and good generals gradually came to light. But even at this point, after the bitter lesson of Liu Yanzhen's disastrous defeat, those favored by Li Jing remained men like Huangfu Hui and Yao Feng—not that these two were utterly incompetent, but they were not pillars of the state.

On the south bank of the Yangtze, at Dangtu, over the past month, brave recruits conscripted by the government had been gathering from the various prefectures and counties of the Southern Tang. By now, a full thirty thousand strong men had been divided into six great camps, five thousand in each, drilling daily in formation and weapons.

In charge of the Southern Tang's Dangtu great camp was the Camp Commander Chen Jue, a core figure of the Song faction, Song Qiqiu's "ironclad loyalist." Several years ago he had been demoted over the Min affair factional struggle; now that Song Qiqiu had returned to court, Chen Jue was also reinstated, entrusted with the great responsibility of managing this reserve force.

These thirty thousand new soldiers, stationed at Dangtu for training, had an obvious purpose: to support the fighting at Shouchun. And among the junior officers responsible for training were many talents—Chen Decheng, Zheng Yanhua, Lin Renzhao, and others.

Lin Renzhao in particular stood out. A former general of the Min state, he had been recommended and recruited, directly appointed as Commander. This man was resolute in character, imposing in stature, skilled in martial arts, and possessed of military strategy—especially outstanding.

During Li Jing's reign, quite a few outside generals were employed—such as the previously mentioned Xian Vice Minister, who pacified Chu; Huangfu Hui, who had received orders to cross the river and reinforce; and Lin Renzhao and other former Min men. In the original course of history, Lin Renzhao could be counted as the Southern Tang's last great general—yet even so, he was a single beam unable to hold up a collapsing house, and was ultimately unjustly killed by Li Yu.

The wind over the river was cold; behind him came the orderly sounds of drilling. Lin Renzhao's six-foot frame stood upon the camp platform, his expression cold and stern, gazing northward.

"Commander, are you still thinking of marching north to fight the Han army?" A junior officer walked up beside Lin Renzhao and asked curiously.

At the question, Lin Renzhao showed no fear—instead, a fierce edge appeared on his face as he declared boldly: "They all say the Han army is unstoppable, but I don't agree. We all have one head and two arms—how can the south lack its own warriors?"

"But!" He turned to look at the new soldiers he had been drilling in the freezing weather, then continued: "With this army alone, we are still far from ready to fight the Han army! Training must be intensified—otherwise, going to the battlefield would just be throwing lives away!"

"Yes!"

"Commander Lin, the Camp Commander has issued orders—all generals are to report to the command tent for deliberation!" At this moment, a messenger from the camp arrived, conveying Chen Jue's order.

Hearing this, Lin Renzhao's brows immediately furrowed, and a clear flash of disgust passed through his eyes. He held Chen Jue in contempt; in fact, many junior officers in the Dangtu camp were dissatisfied with the man—he was bossy, threw his weight around, and showed no care for the soldiers.

"I'll go right away!" Lin Renzhao replied, the corner of his mouth curling in a contemptuous sneer.