Chapter 449: Enthronement

The sixth year of Xuanhe, Western calendar 1124, the first day of the first lunar month, Yuan Shuo.

After a year and a half of repairs, Luoyang City, which had long been desolate and had lost the style of an imperial capital, has regained its style after a large amount of manpower and materials were thrown into it. Two hundred years have passed in a flash; no one knows what the imperial capital was like in the past, but the people of Luoyang unanimously believe that the current Luoyang is no worse than the Sui and Tang Dynasties.

Influence is mutual; the upper level can influence the lower level, and the lower level can also influence the upper level, but the intensity is different. The social atmosphere of the Zhao Song Dynasty, generally speaking, is not very bold; otherwise, there would not be men inserting flowers on their heads thinking it is beautiful.

It is different when it comes to Wang Yan; inside and out, it reveals a grand atmosphere. Although it has only been a year and a half, the social atmosphere in the North has begun to turn. This is mainly due to the hundreds of thousands of troops in the North leveling the way all the way, destroying I don't know how many small families, bringing with them the pacification of I don't know how many unjust cases, and I don't know how much land has been redistributed, thereby establishing the authority of the Wang Dynasty. And admiring strength is human nature. Under the protection of such strong power, people feel honored. Naturally, the social atmosphere will change with the atmosphere of the empire.

Actually, it is still that life is better and the people have money. After all, no matter how powerful an empire is, if it kills countless foreign barbarians, and the result is that its own people are so poor that they sell their children and daughters and eat dirt and chew tree bark, that is also in vain. Not to mention that Wang Yan has only just cleaned up the North, and the South is still in a separatist state.

In the past year and a half, the first half year of rebellion was nothing; it was in the running-in period of the new government, and there was only the territory of the North. The annual revenue of that year was only seventy million guan. Among them, commercial taxes stood for a part, agricultural taxes stood for a relatively weak part, and the rest were all raided from homes. This year, although the statistics have not been completed, according to the estimated data given by the Ministry of Revenue, the annual revenue has directly reached about two hundred million. The head of the Ministry of Revenue guarantees with his head that the difference between the top and bottom is less than five million guan.

The composition of this year's annual revenue is complex, because many landlords and wealthy households were raided, and much land was divided for cultivation. Although most of them are one-fifteenth tax, although the current grain yield is not very high, counting the land in Liaodong and the North China Plain except for the Beijing area, it is basically more than half of the currently arable land, and a lot of grain has been collected.

Although the farmers work hard for a year, they may still not be able to guarantee food and clothing, only ensuring that they will no longer starve to death. But it doesn't matter; after all, the time for farming in the North is only so long in a year, and there are jobs everywhere for the rest of the time. The land and water conservancy in various places, as well as the repairs of the Grand Canal, etc., although they do not provide meals, they pay wages. If you don't want to work here, you can also work for those merchants. There are minimum wages; whoever dares to deduct, as long as it is reported, it is a fine that ruins the family. If it is also mixed with collusion between officials and merchants, it is raiding the home and working.

People have money in their hands, so they will go to consume. After consumption, merchants make money, and the tax collected from commerce is not to say heavy, but it is not low. And now the whole North is a big construction site. If you have a brain and have some money at home, you can pull people to dig mountains, cut trees, and burn bricks, and you can make money. The imperial court is not the original imperial court; it has always spoken with money, and the corvee has been abolished. In this way, the social situation is good, and commercial tax is another big piece of income.

The most critical point is that this year basically cleared up various landlords and gentry in the North who were unwilling to give up. That was the wealth accumulated by people for several generations. Only in this situation can there be an annual revenue of more than two hundred million.

As for grain, etc., it doesn't matter if there is not enough to eat. First, those who farm are enough to feed many people. Second, he has a maritime trade fleet to trade in the South China Sea, purchasing spices, grain, and other materials. As long as they can sail, the fleet will not stop. Third, raising pigs, chickens, ducks, geese, etc., has never stopped. Before he rebelled, Shandong and Hebei were major pig-raising provinces, and the output was not low. Fourth, Western Xia was not fought in vain; there are pastoral areas and land there. He changed the tax on animal husbandry, so that people would not raise animals and not be able to eat meat; instead, rice is precious. Fifth, through Western Xia, the trade route to Mongolia was opened, and he did cattle and sheep business with the people there.

In general, the North under his rule now is that they can live and have a goal. After all, it has only been a year or so, and he has been able to do this now, which is already his maximum ability. And this is more of the old capital of Zhao Song being overdrawn by him at once. The rest still depends on the accumulation of time, slowly.

Glancing at his father-in-law standing not far away, swaying and drowsy, Wang Yan shook his head and smiled, swinging the bright yellow dragon robe embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon, the big sleeves twitching in the air, a crisp sound of "pa," and the imperial crown swayed back and forth with the slight movement of his body, scaring Zhao Ji into waking up with a start. Looking up at his good son-in-law's smiling eyes, he smacked his mouth in annoyance, turned his head away and stopped looking.

His father-in-law is very comfortable. Even if he stepped down, he has no royal title, but he is still the emperor of the previous dynasty, and his daughter is also the head wife that Wang Yan married properly back then. In itself, he has countless rare treasures, and no one dares to find trouble with him. In the past year or so, he has not tossed anymore. He used to practice Daoism, but now he is also cultivating his character. On the contrary, he looks much more energetic and will live for another twenty or thirty years at least.

Wang Yan stepped on a stool and got onto the luxurious huge dragon carriage pulled by sixteen horses, and sat down on the dragon chair inside. The big eunuch who was paying attention at all times looked back at the phoenix carriage pulled by twelve horses, and the princes and princesses were behind, the older ones walking, and the younger ones standing there in a decent manner. The officials on both sides were also ready. He flicked his whisk and shouted loudly: "Set off!"

With the spread of the big eunuch's voice, transmitted by the voices of other eunuchs, it soon reached the front of the team. Immediately after, the gate of the Yingtian Gate was slowly pulled open by the strong men, and the morning sun of the winter day sprinkled into the gate hole, shining on Wu Song who was wearing dark gold armor. He was holding the newly established national flag, with a long knife hanging from his waist, looking majestic. Behind him were thousands of people, standing still in neat formations, among which hundreds were holding various flags, including military flags, mythical beasts, five elements, and rivers and mountains.

Wu Song was after pacifying Shandong, bringing the troops he had trained for many years into the capital. The original reorganized Jingying Forbidden Army was stationed in Shandong, and his troops were reorganized and became the Yulin Guard, guarding the imperial capital. Wu Song was appointed as the Commander of the Yulin Guard, and with the military number as the title, he was named General Yulin.

Although it sounds like a miscellaneous general, counting the six guards in Liaodong, there are only ten established armies now. Even if there are thirty or forty in the future, this kind of title will not be a miscellaneous general, not to mention that the Yulin Guard is the imperial capital guard unit, which is very prestigious. And in order to show the importance of the meritorious officials who followed the dragon, he was also given the title of Duke of Qinghe County, unlike the title of Baron of Yanggu County that Zhao Ji gave him before. Wu Song's is a proper founding duke. It's just that there is no fiefdom, just an honorary title, but the gold content is also full.

"Forward... march!"

Wu Song shouted, echoing in the gate hole, and then stepped out. The team behind followed closely, neat and uniform. The step frequency and stride were roughly the same, accompanied by the sound of gold and iron from the armor leaves, the long team went out of Yingtian Gate and out of the Zhu Que Gate of the outer city of the imperial palace, which had long been wide open. This was renamed later, named after the four gods, corresponding to the four directions of east, west, north, and south.

Out of Zhu Que Gate is the Zhu Que Bridge connecting the two sides of the Luo River. Past Zhu Que Bridge, on the same axis as Zhu Que Gate, Yingtian Gate, and the Hall of Ten Thousand Phenomena, is Zhu Que Street. It is 95 meters wide and 950 meters long, paved with large thick bluestone blocks. This material is definitely not worthy of the status of this long street, but the production efficiency of specially made gold bricks is too low, and the buildings in the palace have not been supplied, so they can only deal with it like this for now, and wait until later to change it.

At this moment, on Zhu Que Street, there is a fully armed Yulin Guard soldier every five steps, extending to the end of Zhu Que Street. Behind them, it is lively; it is the people in the city who got up early to watch the fun. The notice had long been issued; people can watch as they please, no need to kowtow or kneel.

When Wu Song passed Zhu Que Bridge and stepped on Zhu Que Street, after a shout of "goosestep," he used both hands to swing the national flag in his hand to the front, holding it, walking forward one step at a time, step by step.

Such movements are not strange to the people; they have seen the changing of the guard in the imperial palace, but the number of people is too small. It is the first time they have seen thousands of people together, holding flags in front and swinging knives behind, neat and uniform.

Wang Yan, with a smile on the corner of his mouth, in the drafty dragon carriage, looked at the stunned people on both sides of the street. The people in front now are all elites of various armies, killers on the front line. Now that they are in formation together, murderous, how majestic they are goes without saying.

At the end of Zhu Que Street is the Altar of Land and Grain and the Imperial Ancestral Temple, which took more than a year to build. The Altar of Land and Grain is in the west, and the Imperial Ancestral Temple is in the east. The buildings are naturally sitting north and facing south, but there is no wall outside, just shining brightly there. These two places were also surrounded by the Yulin Guard, separating the people watching the emperor's enthronement from the outside.

And in the middle of the two buildings, at the end of Zhu Que Street, is a three-story high platform. Wu Song stopped in front of the platform, standing straight. The flag-holding soldiers behind him ran in small steps to the left and right, standing solemnly.

Wang Yan, led by the ministers, with his wife, children, and hundreds of officials, arrived at the center of the Altar of Land and Grain. A minister held the imperial edict and read the sacrificial text aloud, and then Wang Yan burned it, sent it to heaven and earth, and then personally offered incense.

After the sacrifice to heaven and earth at the Altar of Land and Grain, he turned to the Imperial Ancestral Temple, and it was another round of nonsense, sacrificing to distant ancestors and recent ancestors. Distant ancestors are easy to say, they are the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, but recent ancestors are different. Wang Yan looked at the names of his ancestors for eighteen generations on the memorial tablet, and could not help but twitch the corners of his mouth. Finally, he still acted as a filial son.

There is no way, unlike the Ming Dynasty, he was a beggar and could not trace it back, so he did not set up a memorial tablet for recent ancestors. This time it won't work; his Wang family is a wealthy household in Yanggu, and his ancestors accumulated it. He doesn't know about other ancestors, but he knows his grandfather's name. They are all the same, not to mention his parents. If things go wrong, the one arranged this time might really be his Wang family's old ancestor, of course, it is also possible that the civil official who traced the source only checked a few generations, and further up, it was hard-installed by that official.

In any case, the old couple is living well in the real world, waiting for him to have a son, but he didn't run away, and set up a memorial tablet for them first.

Of course, setting up a memorial tablet is actually nothing. After all, in the film and television world, he is always an orphan, but his parents have graves, but he doesn't go to visit the graves. It's just that this time it was a bit too big, and it was all put into the Imperial Ancestral Temple. This is a place where you have to sacrifice whether you have something or not...

After sacrificing to the Imperial Ancestral Temple, Wang Yan and others came to the platform in the middle. The band was in place, with drums, flutes, xun, sheng, and pipa. What was played was a vast, heavy, but domineering music full of killing. The lyrics that matched were not long, with two parts. The first half was boasting about the glory of China, the literary words were beautiful, and the second half was swearing to defend the glory, every word was clanging.

With the singing, Wu Song raised the national flag to the flagpole. Wang Yan and his wife and children, as well as the hundreds of officials behind, all had their left hands hanging down, their right hands clenched into fists, placed horizontally in front of their chests, with the back of the fists facing the sky. The soldiers, when the music started, drew the long knives from their waists and pointed them obliquely to the sky.

Such an enthronement ceremony that does not conform to the current etiquette is naturally something Wang Yan came up with. Ritual sense is the most effective way to increase the sense of belonging and honor.

He is a one-man show, directly making the decision. The people below who do things are miserable, especially the Ministry of Rites, which is in charge of the five rites. Although the Kong family had long been pacified, and most of the disciples were repairing roads in Shandong to give back to the villagers, they still had to follow various rituals and laws when doing things now. And rituals and laws all have inheritance. Although they have evolved many times, there are always allusions and sources. First, for the orthodoxy of Confucianism, and second, there is the meaning of Chinese inheritance. So the Ministry of Rites exhausted their studies, wanting to find the source of rituals and laws. If there is none, then create it...

This is the benefit of holding the power of discourse; whatever is said is right...

Wang Yan has nothing to say. After all, Confucianism is still in charge now. His education has not been unfolded. It is a hundred-year plan, and he can wait.

After finishing the flag-raising ceremony, the enthronement was considered finished. The remaining thing was to go back and read the imperial edict of the founding appointment. On the way back, he did not take the dragon carriage, just walked with his hands behind his back, smiling and waving to the people on both sides of the road shouting "Long live," and would even talk to them at close range to show his closeness to the people.

Just like this, amidst the cheers of the people, Wang Yan and others walked back to Ziwei Palace.

On the gate tower of Zhu Que Gate, someone had long hung a huge national flag, and the other three city gates were synchronized. And on the city wall, there were military flags of the existing armies, with words on one side and totems on the other. Overall, it is still relatively harmonious.

In the Hall of Ten Thousand Phenomena, many large tables had long been set up. This place is big enough to accommodate so many people to eat together. So Wang Yan did not care about any rules or not, and directly set up a banquet in this highest power hall.

After another long reading of various appointments and titles, Wang Yan stood on the high platform, waved his big hand: "Gentlemen, drink to victory!"

After speaking, he symbolically ate a few mouthfuls, and then returned to the harem to eat with his wife and children. After all, if he were here, a group of people would not be able to eat well.

This time, becoming emperor did not wait for the unification of the North and South. It was really that they were not good enough and could not stop it at all. Even the people in the South knew it themselves. The situation here, the people in the South all knew. It wiped out all the landlords in the North who were unwilling to give up like an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves, without even splashing a flower. They didn't think they could contend even if they had hundreds of thousands of troops.

Now that he has been enthroned and established the country, the North has also been swept away. Even if there are remnants, it is useless. The next step is to wait for the army to finish training and directly unify the Divine Land.

As for negotiating conditions, those people in the South are not qualified. One counts as one, all must work until they die.

Just thinking about it in a messy way, he finally returned to the harem.

"Your Majesty, the fleet we sent to sea back then has returned. It docked at Dengzhou four days ago."

"I am the Princess of the State of Wei, what can you do if I grab your meat?"

"Mother..."

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled. These are all sons under ten years old, and his daughters, only two over ten years old, are sitting on his dragon chair, accompanying the ministers on behalf of their father.

There are so many titles, and only a few are awesome. There will always be dissatisfaction. If ranked by age, there will also be those who are not convinced. His sons have been practicing martial arts since childhood, and those who are not much different in age fight every day. It is impossible to say that there is no affection, but there is always competition. So for the sake of equality, he directly drew lots. Whoever draws a good one counts as his, and don't complain about this or that in the future, saving worry. It was all completed under the witness of the cabinet ministers, absolutely fair and just.

Li Shishi got up to help Wang Yan take off his dragon robe: "Why did you come back? Weren't you with the ministers in front?"

"If I were there, they wouldn't even dare to speak loudly, how could they eat well? I let the eldest and second eldest accompany them there."

Taking off the dragon robe, Wang Yan sat at the dining table, smiling and looking at the children who were competing there, eating with the four women, laughing and chatting. There was nothing else, just talking about what it felt like to really be an emperor. Although people used to call him Emperor, Your Majesty, etc., it was not legal.

The four women this time were also not titled Empress, all were Noble Consorts, so no one should find trouble with anyone. He also gave instructions on the matter of his children becoming emperor, just as directly. His good sons really don't live as long as their old father, so if they want to covet his position, it's really a dream. So he still told his sons not to have small thoughts and that cultivating the next generation is the most important thing.

Now these little cubs don't understand anything, just those few older ones can understand a little. He mainly said it for the three women to hear. Li Shishi has no children, she doesn't care. But the other three are a bit different. Zhao Yupan was instigated by Zhao Ji, the old guy is still unwilling to give up, comforting himself that it is not bad for his grandson to be emperor. Hu Hu San Niang also has her mother's family instigating her. Although Hu Cheng has been honest all these years, now that he has become a relative of the emperor, there is always a thought.

As for Jin Lian, her heart is big. She has heard too many stories from books, all kinds of royal filth. She has no mother's family, just relying on her son, and she feels that she entered the house earliest, and her favor has not declined, so she also has thoughts.

Wang Emperor's response method is very simple, choose concubines... ===== CHAPTER 450 =====