Chapter 105: Li Qingzhao

…

Recently, Cai Jing, deeply favored by Zhao Yu, was at the peak of his influence, even overshadowing his younger brother Cai Bian and drawing close to Chancellor Zhang Dun.

Some speculated that Zhao Yu was vigorously promoting Cai Jing to groom him as Zhang Dun’s successor.

This had nearly become a shared assumption throughout court and countryside.

In fact, during this period, the Old Party’s fierce attacks on the New Party and on Cai Jing were aimed at preventing this dangerous man from ascending to power.

Cai Jing had a tough, decisive political style and extremely rich political experience.

Long ago, Cai Jing had advised Zhang Dun—who was already hardline—to take even harsher measures.

Cai Jing told Zhang Dun: “The resistance to reform is immense; we must learn from the failures of Minister Wang’s earlier reforms…”

In short, Cai Jing believed that to secure the success of reform, one must begin politically—by ruthlessly and thoroughly eliminating the Yuanyou Faction’s power.

Cai Jing had even suggested to Zhao Xu and Zhang Dun that they fully purge officials listed in the Yuanyou Faction register.

Specifically: living officials on the list were to be demoted and exiled; deceased ones were to have their titles stripped, and their descendants barred from residing in the capital or taking the imperial examinations. The names of Yuanyou officials were to be inscribed in the Emperor’s own hand on stone steles and placed on the eastern wall outside the Endli Gate of the Wende Hall, proclaimed throughout the realm as a perpetual warning to all ministers—those named would never be reappointed. Moreover, the names were to be sent to all prefectures and counties, ordering them to erect similar steles to publicly denounce the Yuanyou Faction.

But Zhao Xu and Zhang Dun felt Cai Jing’s purge was too broad and excessively cruel, so they rejected the proposal.

Now, Cai Jing was so heavily favored by Zhao Yu.

Many Old Party figures were deeply anxious, fearing that the moment Cai Jing became Chancellor, their doom would arrive.

Not long ago, to prepare the “Overseas Trade Options System,” Cai Jing personally visited Mingzhou Port, Hangzhou Port, and Quanzhou Port to inspect these harbors firsthand. Had he not been too busy to spare the time, he had even planned to travel to Guangzhou Port himself.

Cai Jing made this trip because Zhao Yu told him: “I’ve heard that maritime merchants are immensely wealthy—countless ones possess fortunes of a million guan; some have earned two hundred million guan in just over a decade trading south of the sea. In the future, our Great Song must vigorously develop maritime trade.”

This fact came from Zhao Yu’s past life, when he heard a certain Song-era world financial historian on Ku.com speak—not about the Northern Song, but the Southern Song.

But the fact that maritime merchants made fortunes was true—whether in the Northern or Southern Song.

At the time, Zhao Yu had merely mentioned it casually while discussing the “Overseas Trade Options System.”

Yet Cai Jing took it to heart.

After returning home, Cai Jing investigated and discovered that Song Dynasty goods—silk, porcelain, tea—had vast overseas markets; merchants from Southeast Asia and the Middle East had strong demand for these goods, and maritime traders could earn enormous profits transporting them abroad.

Moreover, Song Dynasty ships were large and well-built, capable of long-distance voyages; the compass’s application to navigation greatly improved safety and accuracy, lowered transport costs, and increased trade opportunities—laying the foundation for vigorous maritime trade development.

Cai Jing keenly realized that if the court encouraged maritime trade, established institutions like the Maritime Trade Office to manage and assist merchants, rewarded those who attracted foreign traders, and fostered a favorable commercial environment, it would surely become an extremely lucrative revenue stream.

Thus, amid his busy schedule, Cai Jing carved out time to investigate personally.

He did not find the merchant who had earned two hundred million guan, but he did find a merchant named Yang Erlang, who had amassed tens of millions of guan through maritime trade in just a few years—and many other merchants had indeed grown rich through such trade.

This stirred Cai Jing’s ambitions—he prepared to target this wealthy class of maritime merchants.

Upon Cai Jing’s return, Zeng Bu sent his son to welcome him ten li beyond the city gate; Han Zhongyan sent his brother to greet him twenty li out.

Zeng Bu and Han Zhongyan were both senior chancellors ranking above Cai Jing, yet even they treated him with such deference, lowering themselves to court him.

Not only did the current ruling elites favor Cai Jing’s future, but even some retired political heavyweights from the Old Party held him in high regard.

For instance, the seventy-year-old Lü Princess.

Lü Princess was unquestionably an Old Party elder; during Gao Taotao’s regency, he had cooperated closely with Sima Guang as his key deputy.

Before Cai Jing left the capital, Lü Princess had warmly invited him to his residence. He told Cai Jing: “I’ve served in court for decades and met countless men—none surpass you! You will surely sit as Chancellor.”

Lü Princess then had his descendants line up beside him, standing respectfully, and earnestly said to Cai Jing: “Today I entrust all my descendants to you—do not refuse.”

This reveals just how powerful Cai Jing’s momentum had become.

Some Old Party figures found this intolerable.

For example, Su Zhe had utterly disparaged Cai Jing, saying: “Cai Jing has no literary or administrative talent, his character is contemptible, the scholars reject him; had he not been related by marriage to Cai Bian and Wang Anshi, he could never have risen alongside his brother to such exalted offices.”

Many others cited Cai Jing’s early political opportunism and utter lack of moral principle.

Crucially, many Old Party figures feared that when Cai Jing ascended to the chancellorship, it would be their ruin.

So they sought to put forward a man to defeat Cai Jing—and even help him seize the chancellorship—to then abolish all New Policies entirely.

The Old Party knew Zhao Yu favored capable men; if they nominated an ordinary figure, he would not even notice them, let alone let them defeat Cai Jing.

After much deliberation, the Old Party settled on Zhao Tingzhi, Vice Minister of Personnel.

Strictly speaking, Zhao Tingzhi was not Old Party—he was New Party. In his early years, he had staunchly advocated continuing and expanding Wang Anshi’s reforms; amid the fierce New-Old Party conflict, he vigorously promoted the Shuoshu doctrine and spared no effort to exclude Yuanyou officials.

Zhao Tingzhi had only become Old Party recently, largely due to his close association with Li Kefei, one of the “Four Later Disciples of the Su School.”

In his early days in Dezhou, Zhao Tingzhi had implemented the Market Exchange Law as ordered by court. Huang Tingjian, then in charge of De’an Town, argued the town was small and the people too poor to bear such exactions.

Because Huang Tingjian had once mocked Zhao Tingzhi in words, Zhao Tingzhi bore a grudge and later seized an opportunity to slander him to Zhao Xu, resulting in Huang’s demotion and eventual death in Yizhou.

When Zhao Tingzhi was summoned for examination, Su Shi said: “Zhao Tingzhi is a petty money-grubber, lacking both learning and character—how could he possibly suit this post?”—blocking Zhao Tingzhi’s advancement.

Later, as Censor, Zhao Tingzhi submitted a memorial accusing Su Shi of slander for using the phrase “the people are weary” in his calligraphy, claiming it disrespected the late Emperor; this became one of the charges against Su Shi.

Because of these incidents, Zhao Tingzhi’s relations with the Old Party had always been strained.

Yet after Zhao Yu ascended the throne, he recalled Su Shi and Su Zhe and appointed them as chancellors.

Moreover, Zhao Yu’s intentions clearly signaled his plan to heavily rely on the two brothers.

On the other hand, Zhao Tingzhi had long disapproved of Cai Jing and repeatedly exposed his treacherous deeds.

Now that Cai Jing was rising rapidly, Zhao Tingzhi naturally feared retaliation.

So Zhao Tingzhi felt he should mend ties with the Old Party—or even defect outright—or when Cai Jing turned on him, he might have no one to speak for him.

Thus, Zhao Tingzhi actively cultivated ties with Li Kefei.

Li Kefei greatly admired Zhao Tingzhi’s abilities and introduced him to his master, Su Shi.

After being recalled by Zhao Yu, promoted to chancellor, and entrusted with the vital task of evaluating talent, Su Shi—who had long been depressed and unfulfilled—felt his inner bitterness dissolve, as if reborn; he looked noticeably younger.

Now, with renewed vigor, Su Shi was determined to repay Zhao Yu’s trust and needed talents like Zhao Tingzhi to assist him.

Crucially, Su Shi was generous and magnanimous—he had forgiven even Zhang Dun, who had driven him from the court he loved—how much more so Zhao Tingzhi?

Thus, Zhao Tingzhi changed his allegiance, transforming himself into an Old Party figure.

Soon after, the Old Party sought someone to challenge Cai Jing.

Yet the Old Party had no shortage of literary masters—they excelled at propaganda and had no lack of capable administrators—but they lacked economic talent.

This was natural: the Old Party had always advocated adhering to ancestral laws; their economic policies typically focused on cutting expenditures—never on empowering brilliant economic minds to stimulate growth or generate wealth, which they viewed as too radical. How could such a stance retain economic talent?

With no alternative, the Old Party had to choose the best among the limited options—and settled on Zhao Tingzhi, the newcomer to their ranks.

Zhao Tingzhi’s official career was rich, his early achievements outstanding; he had once served as envoy to Liao, was Cai Jing’s political rival, and crucially, already held the high post of Vice Minister of Personnel.

Notably, Zhao Tingzhi had long opposed Cai Jing’s proposals on currency reform.

He believed currency laws must not be altered capriciously; Cai Jing’s proposals to mint coins worth five or ten units were unacceptable. Though such coins offered short-term fiscal gains, standardized markets, and easier transactions, they would also trigger inflation, disrupt market order, harm the people’s interests, and intensify social tensions.

Thus, when the Old Party learned Zhao Yu planned currency reform, they conspired to nominate Zhao Tingzhi to replace Cai Jing, seize this responsibility, and enter Zhao Yu’s view.

At this moment, Zhao Yu said: “I intend to reform the currency system—who is fit for this task?”

Zhao Tingzhi stepped forward immediately to volunteer: “I humbly request the opportunity.”

Zhao Yu held a poor impression of Zhao Tingzhi.

This was chiefly because, historically, Zhao Tingzhi had once ousted Cai Jing, seized the chancellorship, and then, like Sima Guang, recklessly abolished all of Cai Jing’s reforms—including his establishment of schools, promotion of rites and music, and founding of welfare institutions like the Shelter and Relief Homes—all of which had benefited the people—plunging the Song Dynasty into chaos. He served only eight months as Chancellor before being ousted by ministers and populace alike.

Moreover, Zhao Yu knew Zhao Tingzhi was, like Cai Jing, a pure political opportunist—flexible in stance, poor in character, capricious, and utterly devoid of moral principle.

Indeed, in Zhao Yu’s view, Zhao Tingzhi’s character was even worse than Cai Jing’s.

Yet on the other hand, Zhao Tingzhi was still a man capable of becoming Chancellor, one who had left his mark in history; his record was impressive, and from a purely functional standpoint, he could not be dismissed.

Furthermore, although Cai Jing understood currency reform deeply, precisely because he understood it too well, if entrusted with it, he would surely generate substantial revenue for the court—but also inevitably cause inflation and currency devaluation, imposing greater burdens on the people.

Zhao Yu sought currency reform precisely to maintain monetary stability, promote economic growth, increase fiscal revenue, and prevent inflation and devaluation.

Seen this way, entrusting the reform to the conservative Zhao Tingzhi might be acceptable.

As for Zhao Tingzhi’s inferior ability compared to Cai Jing—that was easily solved.

Zhao Yu still had Zhao Kai and Zhang Que, two economic experts, who could fully substitute for Cai Jing’s role.

Moreover, an emperor must never put all his eggs in one basket.

Soon after, Old Party ministers stepped forward to endorse Zhao Tingzhi, asserting he was certainly fit for the currency reform.

Zhao Yu considered this: he had stood too firmly with the New Party today; perhaps he should offer the Old Party a sweet gesture, lest they panic and act rashly before he was ready. He told Zhao Tingzhi: “Minister, come to the Chuigong Hall to see me later.”

Zhao Tingzhi rejoiced, bowing deeply: “Your servant accepts the decree and thanks Your Majesty.”

After Zhao Tingzhi departed, the morning court continued…

Only then did Cai Jing casually glance at Zhao Tingzhi, the man who had stolen his task. Their feud was now fully sealed…

After a period of adjustment, Zhao Yu had fully adapted to his role as Emperor.

At this stage, Zhao Yu carried forward all the fine traditions established by Zhao Xu, promoted new talent, initiated reforms—he was resolute yet not conservative, steady yet bold in innovation.

Though no one could say how far Zhao Yu would ultimately go, both New and Old Party factions could see that under Zhao Yu’s leadership, the Song Dynasty’s path was growing ever wider…

…

After court adjourned.

Li Kefei returned home and saw his beloved daughter—sixteen-year-old Li Qingzhao.

At that moment, Li Qingzhao lay on a rocking chair in the courtyard, holding a scroll, reading leisurely through a volume of “Shishuo Xinyu.” A gentle breeze stirred her hair; she was immersed in the book’s world, sometimes frowning slightly at its sorrows and joys, sometimes smiling at its exquisite phrases.

Seeing her father return, Li Qingzhao immediately rose and flew toward him like a joyful butterfly.

At age six, Li Qingzhao had moved with her father Li Kefei to the capital Bianliang to study culture, absorbing family learning through constant exposure; gifted and quick-witted, she soon emerged as a literary prodigy.

Not long ago, she composed the verse “Ru Meng Ling: Last Night, Sparse Rain, Strong Wind,” destined to become widely celebrated through the ages.

Upon its release, it caused a sensation throughout the capital.

Literati everywhere applauded it; none could match its brilliance—even her master Su Shi praised Li Qingzhao for her spiritual insight.

Li Kefei doted on this daughter and was immensely proud of her.

Seeing Li Qingzhao run over, Li Kefei scolded sternly: “You’re a grown young lady now—still so impetuous. How will you ever marry?”

“If I can’t marry, I’ll stay by Father’s side forever, filially serving you,” Li Qingzhao replied without fear, her eyes curious: “Did you meet His Majesty?”

“I’ve seen him,” Li Kefei said as he walked into the courtyard.

——Li Kefei had just been recalled to court as an Assistant Minister of Rites; today was his first meeting with Zhao Yu.

“How was he?” Li Qingzhao asked.

Li Kefei stopped walking and said with deep reverence: “Impressive.”

“What do you mean?” Li Qingzhao grew even more curious.

Li Kefei looked at Li Qingzhao and said: “His Majesty is composed and measured, acts with propriety in advance and retreat, makes decisions with reason—he bears the bearing of a sage ruler. Our Great Song has hope of revival.”

Li Qingzhao had never expected her father to give such high praise to this young emperor; it made her even more curious about Zhao Yu.

Her eyes flickered, and a plan came to her. She said: “Father, I’ve heard the palace will hold an imperial examination for the harem, an affair that must fall under your Ministry of Rites. Can you teach me how to observe it?”

……

(End of Chapter)