Chapter 19: I Can

…

“We’re going to teach Zhao Yu that kind of thing?!!!”

Yuan Qingcheng stared at Ma Xiao Jiao, as if saying: “You’ve gone mad wanting to leave here—even willing to do something like this?!!!”

Ma Xiao Jiao froze for a moment.

Realizing Yuan Qingcheng had misunderstood, Ma Xiao Jiao’s face instantly flushed crimson, then the red spread rapidly from her cheeks down her neck, then plummeted swiftly until it reached her heels.

Ma Xiao Jiao punched Yuan Qingcheng hard with her tiny fist: “What are you thinking?! I meant—Pure Sister has already made contact with Zhao Yu, so can’t we use that as an excuse to leave this place? Who said anything about teaching Zhao Yu that kind of thing? Oh my goodness!~”

Yuan Qingcheng suddenly realized she’d made a huge blunder and grew deeply embarrassed; she hurried to salvage the situation: “If you put it that way… this really is a good opportunity. Fine, you keep watching for me a bit longer—I’ll go find Pure Sister. She might meet Zhao Yu again soon; let’s see if we can seize this chance.”

Saying this, Yuan Qingcheng fled as if escaping a fire.

Soon, Yuan Qingcheng found Zhang Chun again and told her Ma Xiao Jiao’s idea.

Zhang Chun’s eyes lit up: “This is even better than my perfect script. If I’m chosen, with my beauty and talent, I’ll surely bewitch Zhao Yu, make him kneel at my feet, and become the first woman to bear his child. Then, what’s left of Empress Xiansu? What of Imperial Consort Yisu? They’ll all be pushed to the back. With just a little trick, who knows—this Princess Consort title might end up mine.”

Though ecstatic inside, Zhang Chun spoke calmly: “This idea is good. I’ll discuss it with Zhao Yu later…”

…

Zhao Yu first met briefly with Empress Dowager Xiang to finalize the details and timing of his marriage to Zheng Xiansu and Wang Yisu.

Regarding the former, Zhao Yu merely stated he wished to make Zheng Xiansu his Princess Consort and Wang Yisu his secondary consort; everything else was left entirely to Empress Dowager Xiang’s discretion.

Regarding the latter, Zhao Yu also deferred entirely to Empress Dowager Xiang’s judgment.

In this era, betrothal was called the “Six Rites,” including Na Cai, Wen Ming, Na Ji, Na Zheng, Qing Qi, and Qin Ying—steps that typically took months, even a year, to complete.

That meant Zheng Xiansu and Wang Yisu could not yet marry into the Shen Prince’s mansion; they would remain under Empress Dowager Xiang’s care for now.

Moreover, during this period, Zhao Mao, Princess Yangguo, and Zhao Xu had all passed away, potentially delaying Zhao Yu’s wedding further.

Thus, for Zhao Yu, time was sufficient—he need not seek more.

Notably, Empress Dowager Xiang suggested Zhao Yu also marry Guo Ting, as a secondary consort like Wang Yisu.

This was a reward for Guo Cheng’s decisive victory over the Xia Army—a promise long agreed upon by Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Xu. The Guo family had already heard rumors; they couldn’t afford to delay, lest Guo Cheng defect to Xia and give Zhao Xu and Liu Qingjing grounds to attack Empress Dowager Xiang and Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu surmised Guo Ting was likely the historical original’s Princess Guo; since he had inherited the original’s entire legacy, one more woman made no difference.

Besides, though Guo was not as prominent as Zhong, Yao, Zhe, Yang, or Liu clans, it was still a mid-to-large military family of the Western Army.

Moreover, Guo Ting had a younger brother named Guo Hao—one of the “Three Great Generals of Shu” in early Southern Song, who historically aided Wu Jie win the great battle at Shangheyuan.

Seen this way, the Guo family had some value.

Crucially, whether Zhao Yu married Guo Ting wasn’t his decision—it rested entirely with Empress Dowager Xiang. Her asking his opinion was merely a courtesy, not a necessity.

How could Zhao Yu be ungrateful?

So he agreed at once.

Then Zhao Yu and Empress Dowager Xiang discussed how to deal with Liu Qingjing and how to respond to possible retaliation from Liu Qingjing and the New Party.

Both agreed that because Zhao Yu threatened to rehabilitate Minister Meng, neither Zhao Xu nor Liu Qingjing would dare act rashly in the short term. But with Zhao Mao still alive, Zhao Xu would eventually name Liu Qingjing Empress—nothing could stop it.

Fortunately, because Zhao Yu had shown the audacity to “risk everything, even dethrone the Emperor,” even if Liu Qingjing became Empress, she would dare not easily target Empress Dowager Xiang for a long time.

In truth, Empress Dowager Xiang’s worry had never been the present—it was always the future.

On this point, Zhao Yu kept silent, saying nothing about the future being safe; instead, he agreed with her: they could only wait and see, then respond as events unfolded.

After finishing official matters, Zhao Yu did not leave immediately but stayed to dine with Empress Dowager Xiang.

During the meal, Zhao Yu did not remain silent; he used the opportunity to discuss the Song Dynasty’s current problems, the errors of the New Party reforms, their solutions, and the Song Dynasty’s neighboring states—Liao, Xia, Tubo, Goryeo, Japan, Dali, Li, Champa, and Angkor.

When speaking of the Song Dynasty’s problems and the New Party’s reform mistakes, Zhao Yu dissected each issue with penetrating insight; every word was like a sharp blade, precisely slicing open the Song Dynasty’s outwardly splendid yet rotten body, striking straight to the core.

And unlike Zhao Ji’s flowery rhetoric, literary flair, and empty idealism.

Wherever Zhao Yu spoke, he cited classics and historical facts, tightly linking theory with reality; every solution he proposed was both forward-looking and practical, as if each were a golden word refined through deep deliberation.

When discussing whether reform was necessary, Zhao Yu was nothing like Zhao Ji’s evasiveness. Zhao Ji wanted reform too, yet always echoed Empress Dowager Xiang’s words. Zhao Yu, however, clearly stated: the Song Dynasty now faced internal turmoil and external threats; without renewal and change, long-term stability was impossible.

Yet Zhao Yu also said reform must be carried out with proper methods—nothing like the New Party’s chaotic meddling.

Most importantly, Zhao Yu didn’t just shout slogans—he presented feasible, compelling solutions and clearly explained their reasoning to Empress Dowager Xiang.

Why reform?

Not because the people couldn’t survive—but because the court was broke.

Why was the court broke?

Because taxes were too heavy, crushing the people’s breath; in good years, they barely scraped by; in famine years or during war, their lives became unbearable. Thus, the people preferred fleeing to mountain gullies or becoming tenant farmers for local magnates, even becoming refugees, rather than remain registered households paying taxes—they simply couldn’t afford it.

Meanwhile, wealthy families, scholar-official clans, and powerful landowners paid no taxes—or evaded them through countless means.

Zhao Yu quoted Zhu Xi: “The rich own more land but pay less tax, fueling land consolidation… unequal hardship and privilege harm both public and private interests, undermining the state’s ability to govern benevolently—growing worse daily, without end.”

Added to this, ancestral policy refused to curb land consolidation.

Result: the court grew poorer, while high officials, scholar-official clans, and powerful landowners grew richer.

This had severely undermined the Song Dynasty’s rule.

Therefore, reform was essential—and to reform, one must address the root cause…

When speaking of the Song Dynasty’s greatest enemy, the Liao, Zhao Yu analyzed its formidable military strength and nomadic resilience, while also exposing its internal contradictions and power struggles, predicting its inevitable future civil unrest.

On Xia, Zhao Yu frankly summarized the clear, thorough reasons for the Song Dynasty’s repeated failures in campaigns against Xia, while also highlighting Xia’s narrow territory and impoverished population, emphasizing the strategic importance of Hengshan.

Regarding Tubo, Zhao Yu began with religious influence, analyzing its potential impact on regime stability and foreign policy—his insights were original.

On Goryeo and Japan, Zhao Yu used maritime trade as a starting point, stressing the importance of opening the Maritime Silk Road to strengthen national power and promote cultural exchange.

For distant states like Dali, Li, Champa, and Angkor, he effortlessly analyzed their geopolitical significance and potential direct or indirect effects on the Song Dynasty.

Zhao Yu’s words revealed profound historical insight and sharp foresight, coupled with genuine, practical understanding of current conditions across all sectors.

Empress Dowager Xiang’s face remained calm, but her heart churned with a storm! She never imagined this neglected adopted son possessed such profound wisdom and exceptional talent.

She had assumed Zhao Yu was like many other imperial princes—only concerned with drinking and merrymaking, indifferent to state affairs.

Even when Zhao Yu fiercely rebuked Liu Qingjing and openly defied Zhao Xu, she had merely thought he showed more filial piety than other princes.

Now, watching Zhao Yu point out the strategies of the empire, Empress Dowager Xiang felt dazed: “Is this the child I raised? When did he become so outstanding?!!!”

Unconsciously, she compared Zhao Yu to Zhao Ji—the most capable among all princes—and found: Zhao Ji could only surpass Zhao Yu in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, and prose; in every other aspect, Zhao Yu utterly dominated him.

This was exactly what Zhao Yu intended—he wanted to tell Empress Dowager Xiang, who deeply cared about the Song Dynasty’s future: I’m no artist, but Zhao Ji? He can’t rule.

…

(End of Chapter)