Chapter 356: Inventory of the Late Song Emperor—Zhao Bing, the Battle of Yashan at Sea!

The Song realm.

In front of the Xuande Tower,

The sound on the plaza vanished instantly.

It wasn't suppressed; everyone simply fell silent at once.

On the sky screen, a line of bold, azure characters emerged, strokes like knife cuts and axe chisel—

【Inventory of the eighteen emperors of the Two Song dynasties—Tracing the monarchs who lost their realms】

Gu Shanhe turned, faced the plaza, his voice was not loud, yet everyone heard him clearly: "Everyone, today the sky screen will inventory the eighteen emperors of the Two Songs."

"Starting from the last, in reverse order, one by one we will speak."

"Opening act one—The Battle of Yashan at Sea."

On the sky screen, the image moved.

The sea churned, wave crests battered the warships' hulls, and spray shattered into white foam.

The sky was red, the sea was red, even the wind was red.

The last Southern Song fleet was linked together, iron chains binding them, like a string of prisoners whose limbs were tied.

Masts snapped, sails burned, the deck was drenched in blood.

Yuan troops' warships surrounded from all directions, dense as fish scales, arrows like locusts, fireballs like rain.

Someone on the plaza covered their mouth.

On the city tower, Zhao Kuangyin's hand clenched the railing.

The image continued.

A middle‑aged civil official in court robes stood on the largest ship, cradling a child in his arms.

The child wore a dragon robe, dustied, its crown askew, yet his back was upright.

Zhao Kuangyin's hand tightened a bit more.

He recognized that dragon robe.

The Great Song emperor's dragon robe.

The child was tiny, curled in the official's arms like a cat.

But he did not cry, did not move, both hands clutching the official's collar, his eyes staring ahead—

gazing at the Yuan ships, at the sinking sunset, at a distant unknown.

The official faced northwest—Lin'an— and bowed three times.

The sound of the bows echoed from the sky screen.

His forehead struck the deck— thump, thump, thump— three beats, each like a blow to every person's chest in the plaza.

"The nation has perished; Your Majesty must not endure further humiliation!"

He removed the jade seal and tied it around the child's waist.

The jade seal was heavy; the child's body jolted from its weight.

Then he straightened, pulled the child tighter to his chest, and leapt.

The sea swallowed their silhouettes.

At the splash, someone on the plaza let out a scream, which quickly turned into sobbing.

It wasn't a wail, but the kind of crying where one clutches the mouth desperately yet tears keep flowing.

The image did not stop.

After Lu Xiufu and the young emperor fell into the water, more people began to walk into the sea.

Civil officials, military generals, soldiers, palace maids, eunuchs, commoners.

No one forced them, no one pushed from behind; they walked in of their own accord.

One after another, group after group, like receding tide, surged toward the red sea.

In one night, ten thousand corpses floated on the sea.

The sky screen gave a final wide view—

The sunset sank below the horizon, the sea surface densely covered with floating corpses, rising and falling with the waves.

On a Yuan ship in the distance, someone stood at the rail looking down, expression indistinct.

On the plaza, cries rose and fell.

Commoners wept, soldiers wept, even some officials in the front rows reddened around the eyes; some could not hold back, sleeves covering faces, shoulders trembling.

On the city tower.

Zhao Kuangyin's hand gripped the railing, knuckles white as bone, veins bulging.

His mouth was a thin line, lips trembling, yet no sound.

Liu Bang put away his usual mischievous grin, looked at the red sea on the sky screen, sighed deeply, and shook his head.

Liu Che's hand rested on his sword, knuckles also turning white.

Liu Xiu lowered his gaze, hands clasped before him, lips moving slightly.

Li Shimin whispered, "A frail body retains proud spirit; a child guards the nation's soul."

Ying Zheng said nothing.

His expression barely changed, yet those who knew him could see— his jaw was clenched tighter than usual.

Empress Changsun sat on the inner side of the city tower, her handkerchief already soaked.

She did not cry out loud, but the tears wet his eye corner.

Gu Shanhe stood on the outer side of the city tower, his plain robe billowing in the wind.

He watched the image on the sky screen, waited a few seconds, let his emotions settle, then spoke:

The Battle of Cliff Mountain at sea, the Great Song's final battle.

The child emperor Zhao Bing, the eighteenth ruler of the Great Song and also its last emperor, ascended the throne at six, the nation fell when he was seven, never wielded power, yet gave his life for the country.

From the highest civil officials down to the common folk, a hundred thousand soldiers and civilians threw themselves into the sea; not a single one surrendered.

He paused.

For over three hundred years, the two Song dynasties prized literature over martial prowess, repeatedly collected tribute, and were often criticized for their weakness.

But when the nation broke, from the highest civil officials down to the common folk, even this seven‑year‑old child, not a single person knelt.

This strand of proud bone is the Great Song's final glory.

The square fell silent, only cries and the wind could be heard.

The image on the celestial screen faded, golden light brightened again, and the ranking list text began to appear.

【First place on the ranking list: Late Song Emperor Zhao Bing】

【Reign length: 1278–1279, only one year】

【Identity: the young son of Emperor Duzong of Song】

【Celestial screen summary: floating duckweed in chaotic times, a child at court.】

Born when the nation fell, grew up on the road of exile.

Yuan forces pressed in step by step, ultimately besieged Cliff Mountain.

At the instant the nation perished, he threw himself into the sea with Lu Xiufu to die for the country.

He left no imperial achievements, yet possessed the spirit of defending the nation.

Zhao Kuangyin stared at the three characters "only one year," his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

One year.

His descendants reigned as emperor for one year, and died at seven.

He recalled what he did at seven—

Fighting people in the mud, climbing trees, raiding bird nests.

And this child, at seven, was fleeing for his life, drifting at sea, within the enemy's encirclement, and finally leapt into the sea.

Gu Shanhe's voice rang again: "Zhao Bing's whole life, his body was not his own."

"He did not understand court affairs, knew not weapons, yet used his life to hold the dynasty's final bottom line."

"Many emperors of the two Song dynasties sought comfort in complacency, but this last child emperor told the world with his death— the Great Song may perish, but its backbone does not."

Someone in the square shouted, "This child is a real man!"

The voice was very young, tinged with sobbing, likely a soldier from one of the armies.

No one beside him answered, but many people nodded silently.

Liu Bang turned his head and glanced at Zhao Kuangyin,

"Old Zhao, your descendants have hard backbone."

"Though only seven, they are far stronger than those spineless wretches before you."

Zhao Kuangyin said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the child's name on the celestial screen.

Liu Che added, "I have fought wars all my life, never have I seen a child of such age bear this kind of burden."

"Your Zhao lineage is not bad."

Liu Xiu whispered, "The child is innocent, born into chaos. Yet he preserved the Great Song's final dignity."

Li Shimin said the most candid thing: "He is not a tyrant; he was simply born at the wrong time."

Ying Zheng was the last to speak, his voice low, yet everyone on the city wall heard, "Respectable."

Zhao Kuangyin's lips trembled.

…

The text on the celestial screen turned a page.

【Second place on the ranking list: Emperor Duanzong of Song, Zhao Shi】

【Reign length: 1276–1278】

【Identity: younger brother of Emperor Gong of Song, the first monarch of the exiled Southern Song court】

【Celestial screen summary: ascended the throne at seven.】

Yuan forces broke through Lin'an, his father and brothers were captured, ministers elevated him to emperor, and he fled south.

He lived a life of upheaval and fear, and died of illness at only nine years old.】

Gu Shanhe said, "With Lin'an's fall, the Great Song's core collapsed; Zhao Shi is the last hope of the remnants of Song."

"Alas, the great building is about to collapse; a single log cannot support it."

"He is not a tyrant; he was born at an inopportune time, inheriting the mess left by his predecessors."

Zhao Kuangyin closed his eyes briefly.

Liu Bang said again, "Old Zhao, your descendants get smaller and smaller?"

"Seven‑ and nine‑year‑olds, still nursing, yet become emperors?"

Zhao Kuangyin murmured, "I have heard."

"I am not mocking you; I am saying your descendants are too tragic."

Liu Che continued, "The tragedy is indeed tragic."

But returning to the point, the previous tyrants ruined the realm like this, and in the end let two children bear the thunder— is that appropriate?

Liu Xiu tugged at Liu Che's sleeve.

Liu Che fell silent.

Li Shimin smoothed things over: "The last monarchs are often like this. Their fate is not of their own making."