Chapter 226

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Zhao Yu never imagined that the person Zhang Chun recommended to help him deal with the gentry's covert sabotage and obstruction of the imperial new policies was Song Jiang!!!

Did Zhang Chun recommend the Song Jiang from the Water Margin—the one nicknamed "Protector of Righteousness," "Timely Rain," and "Filial and Righteous Black Third Brother," the leader of Mount Shuipoliang?

How could this be possible?

This is a historical world—how could a character from a novel exist here?

But the absence of the novel's Song Jiang doesn't mean this era lacks a Song Jiang.

Yes.

There truly is a Song Jiang in this era.

He was a rebel leader who rose up during the Xuanhe period of the Northern Song.

Historical records state he led thirty-six chieftains, ravaging the He Shuo and Jingdong regions; though his forces were small, they stormed cities and seized territory with swift ferocity, leaving the authorities deeply troubled. They fought across ten commanderies, and imperial troops dared not confront them—this fierce spirit bore a striking resemblance to the novel's Song Jiang leading the Liang Shan heroes against Song dynasty forces.

Clearly, Zhang Chun recommended this rebel leader to Zhao Yu.

Upon further reflection, Zhao Yu understood: Zhang Chun probably wanted him to tolerate—or rather, to instigate—Song Jiang's rebellion, then use Song Jiang and his men to exterminate all the gentry resisting and obstructing the new policies.

To have the Emperor himself collude with Song Jiang and his band of ants?

At first glance, Zhang Chun's suggestion was absurd beyond measure, as if he were joking.

But upon deeper thought, wasn't this an excellent "borrowing a knife to kill" strategy?

"If Song Jiang serves as the court's white glove, the benefits are countless."

First, from the perspective of public opinion, the gentry have long been rooted locally, with deep entanglements and considerable prestige—even goodwill—among the common people. If the court directly intervenes to suppress them, as it did in the Fengqiu exam boycott case, it will be branded as tyrannical, accused of persecuting loyal subjects and oppressing the gentry, and risk destabilizing popular sentiment.

Consider Emperor Yongzheng's new policies: he used all tax revenues for Yellow River management, yet was slandered by scholar-officials as murdering his father, forcing his mother to suicide, killing his elder brother, slaughtering his younger brother, greedy, bloodthirsty, alcoholic, lustful, suspicious, executing loyal men, flattering sycophants, and appointing corrupt officials. If Zhao Yu personally handled every confrontation with the gentry, wouldn't he end up with Yongzheng's fate?

But if Song Jiang and his rebels act instead, it's entirely different.

Song Jiang's gang are themselves "bandits" of common origin; when they confront the gentry obstructing the new policies, outsiders will only see it as gang vendettas and bandit raids.

If Song Jiang's men further spread the slogan that they were driven to desperation by gentry exploitation, that the court introduced the new policies to save the people, yet the gentry fiercely obstructed them, leaving the poor no means to survive, the court can maintain an "innocent" posture, firmly occupying the moral high ground—and even win the support and adoration of the impoverished masses, laying a solid popular foundation for future policy implementation.

After all, in the eyes of the people, Song Jiang's gang, though "bandits," were driven to rebellion—they are heroes resisting oppression. Their actions are clearly punishment, a karmic retribution against greedy gentry.

Second, from a political standpoint, many court officials have intricate ties to the gentry. If the court directly attacks the gentry, it will inevitably trigger these officials' interests, causing court upheaval and obstructing the new policies at every turn.

But Song Jiang's gang operates outside direct court control; their actions exist beyond the court's conventional system, making it impossible for officials to intervene or sabotage.

Once Song Jiang completes his task, the court can then "pacify the rebellion," either recruiting or exterminating Song Jiang and his men.

Thus, the court eliminates the gentry's entrenched forces, avoids direct internal conflict, maintains regime stability, and simultaneously demonstrates imperial authority and benevolence—a single stone striking multiple birds, even many birds.

Third, from an economic perspective, the gentry exploit their privileges to conceal vast tracts of land, amassing enormous wealth and severely undermining the court's tax revenue.

When Song Jiang's men confront these gentry, they not only disrupt their resistance to the new policies but also seize vast sums of wealth in the process.

The court can later reclaim these funds under the guise of "confiscating bandit loot."

Think about it: how much blood and sweat have the gentry siphoned from the court and the people over the years? Shouldn't they return some of it?

Finally, from a long-term perspective, once Song Jiang's men eliminate these entrenched gentry, and the remaining gentry are sufficiently intimidated, the new policies may proceed smoothly.

Once the court's tax revenue stabilizes, the people's burdens lighten, and social tensions ease, the Zhao Song dynasty's ruling foundation will naturally grow stronger.

As for the destruction caused by Song Jiang's rebellion?

Even if this operation is well-managed and controllable, even if Song Jiang's rebellion later spirals out of control, how much damage could it possibly cause?

Historically, during the Two Song periods, there were over four hundred peasant uprisings; the larger ones involved hundreds of thousands, and tens of thousands were countless. Song Jiang's actual historical rebellion numbered only ten to twenty thousand—far too small to matter. The damage to the Zhao Song dynasty was negligible; in fact, neither Northern nor Southern Song fell to peasant revolts—they fell to foreign invaders.

Thus, this risk is utterly negligible.

Moreover, since Zhao Yu ascended the throne, no peasant uprising has occurred—how does that compare to the Two Song average of 1.36 peasant uprisings per year?

In other words, Zhao Yu has dragged behind other Song emperors in the matter of inciting peasant rebellions.

Wouldn't it be fitting for Zhao Yu to engineer one or two uprisings to boost the Zhao Song dynasty's "performance metrics"?

Once Zhao Yu shifted his thinking, he told Zhang Chun to elaborate.

Zhang Chun shared Zhao Yu's thoughts, but he had considered even more.

—Beyond what Zhao Yu had envisioned, Zhang Chun believed they could fully exploit the stamp tax.

Specifically, after Song Jiang's men exterminate the gentry in a region, they should seize and burn as many land deeds as possible.

Once Song Jiang's men depart, the court will recognize only land officially registered under the new policies—land surveyed and issued new deeds by the court. All other land, first, the court has already declared it unprotected, and second, since ownership cannot be proven, will be confiscated by the court and uniformly used to hire locals to cultivate cotton, vigorously developing the textile industry to provide jobs and income for the people.

Once word spreads, many gentry will voluntarily petition the court to survey their land—otherwise, when rebels like Song Jiang arrive, they won't just lose tax revenue; they'll lose all their land, even their lives, and their families will be destroyed.

After hearing this, Zhao Yu realized Zhang Chun was truly a genius—at least a twisted one—who could devise such a ruthless scheme.

Zhao Yu asked: "How do we make Song Jiang's gang obey the court's orders?"

Zhao Yu didn't naively believe Song Jiang would be like the novel's Song Jiang, yearning for amnesty so desperately he'd let all one hundred and eight brothers die down to thirty-two.

Zhao Yu must be on high alert—Song Jiang might grow powerful and truly rebel.

Didn't Emperor Ling of Han make the same mistake, giving them a ruthless opponent? Zhang Chun replied confidently: "If the Emperor distrusts them, send loyal men to join their rebellion."

Zhang Chun meant Zhao Yu could select men who would unquestionably remain loyal to the Zhao Song dynasty and infiltrate Song Jiang's rebel army.

If Zhao Yu still wasn't satisfied, it was simple: dispatch a pre-selected army to "crush" Song Jiang, pretend to lose the battle, then defect en masse—with officers, troops, and equipment—all to join Song Jiang's side, effectively going "black."

Once among Song Jiang's forces, these troops must not be touched by Song Jiang; they take orders from the court, not from Song Jiang.

In short, even if Song Jiang isn't made a puppet, he must never gain absolute military command—then Song Jiang will never escape Zhao Yu's palm.

Promise him: if he obeys, after the mission, grant him high office and rich rewards.

In short: have the compassion of a bodhisattva and the ruthlessness of a vajra.

Thus, as long as Song Jiang isn't foolish, he will willingly submit to court control.

After all, rebellion carries extermination of nine kin; but acting by imperial decree is different. If Song Jiang is wise, he will understand: this imperial-ordered rebellion isn't a death sentence—it's his golden chance to glorify his ancestors, secure titles for his wife and children. He won't just shed the "bandit" stigma—he'll transform into a high official of the Zhao Song dynasty, and his followers will gain official posts, wash away their past, and attain glory and wealth.

To be honest, Zhao Yu was almost envious of Song Jiang. The man's luck was too good—he sat at home, and an official title fell from the sky.

Then Zhang Chun pulled out this year's list of examinees from the Jingdong and Xilu circuits, pointed to one name, and said: "This man can serve as a negotiator to persuade Song Jiang to obey the court's orders and lead his followers in rebellion."

Zhao Yu looked, and the name Zhang Chun pointed out was precisely "Wu Yong."

Zhao Yu looked for himself and saw that this Wu Yong came from a well-off family in Cheshicun, Yuncheng County, Shandong; his father was a renowned local scholar who had taught him everything he knew. From childhood, Wu Yong had been clever and quick-witted, diligent and eager to learn, widely read, skilled in every one of the four arts—qin, qi, shu, hua—and versed in all the Four Books and Five Classics.

Nowadays, Wu Yong had already passed the provincial examination and would soon head to the capital for the metropolitan exam, delivering himself right to their door.

Seeing this, Li Lin said from the side: "This concubine remembers there is a drill instructor surnamed Lin in the Palace Front Command, exceptionally brave and martial—he can count as one."

Seeing Zhang Chun and Li Lin each recommend someone—Zhang Chun recommending Wu Yong, Li Lin recommending Lin Chong—Ye Shi Yun felt that if she didn't recommend one too, she'd seem a bit out of step.

So Ye Shi Yun said: "The Imperial Golden Spear Guard seems to have one called Xu Ning; he can count as one too."

Zhang Chun said: "In Great Ming Prefecture, Hebei, there is a general called Lu Junyi—courageous and discerning, quite versed in the art of war."

Li Lin said: "In Jinan there is a valiant general named Guan Sheng, both loyal and brave."

Ye Shi Yun, that lazy egg, was unwilling to go out and move about at all; what civil or military officials would she know? Even Xu Ning—she had only happened to overhear someone call his name, and only remembered him because of the Golden Spear Wielder Xu Ning from Water Margin.

Zhang Chun, however, was different; she often pored over the registers of officials and generals of the Zhao Song dynasty, and knew these people like the back of her hand.

As for Li Lin, she helped Zhao Yu oversee military personnel matters, so naturally she knew the news on every Song general.

But not to lose face even when outmatched, Ye Shi Yun bluffed at random: "There's also one called Yang Zhi—he can be put to use too."

Zhang Chun said with a slight smile: "In the Dongfu Army there's one called Zhang Qing—his arrows fly on feathers, and he smashes the enemy without fail."

Li Lin said very calmly: "In the Jingsai Army there's a general called Huyan Chuo—quite fierce."

This time, with the previous experience, Ye Shi Yun let herself bluff even more freely; she truly took Zhao Yu for someone who knew nothing, and spouted off at the mouth: "Ah, there's one called Wu Song—a pair of iron fists that can beat a tiger to death."

Seeing Ye Shi Yun even bring up Wu Song, Zhang Chun and Li Lin immediately felt it had become pointless. The people they had named were all real, verifiable figures who could actually be found; as for Yang Zhi that Ye Shi Yun had mentioned earlier, that could be let pass—after all, there really was a fierce general named Yang Zhi in the Western Army. But now Ye Shi Yun had even brought up Wu Song, and brazenly claimed Wu Song could beat a tiger to death—what nonsense was that? If they let Ye Shi Yun keep going, she'd end up blurting out how Lu Zhishen uprooted a weeping willow too.

What was there even left to compare?

The key was, with Zhao Yu right here, Zhang Chun and Li Lin couldn't slap Ye Shi Yun down in front of him.

And Zhao Yu, though he said nothing, couldn't help but grumble inwardly: "I asked you few to give me ideas, and what do you do? You sit here assembling the Liang Shan heroes for me! What—is it that you really want to round up all hundred and eight Liang Shan heroes and start a rebellion?"

It was no wonder Zhao Yu grumbled inwardly; the truth was, Zhao Yu didn't understand these people Zhang Chun, Li Lin, and Ye Shi Yun had named at all—how could he be sure that after they went undercover among the bandits, they wouldn't turn from moles into real outlaws?

For matters like this, one still had to use those who could truly withstand the test.

For example, Yuwenshuzhong—who in history infiltrated the Jin Empire for eighteen years and rose to become State Preceptor, yet was betrayed by Emperor Gaozong and Qin Hui and their ministers, his whole family of over a hundred brutally killed, and still remained loyal to the Song dynasty.

Of course, the people the three women had named could also go over together with Yuwenshuzhong to make up the numbers.

Manufacturing a Water Margin of one's own could also add a bit of flavor to this stretch of the story, and provide some material and historical source for Shi Nai'an to write Water Margin in the future.

Of course, Zhao Yu did not lower himself to the three women's level; he went on as usual, listening to what they said and then pretending to jot down their words.

Afterward, Zhao Yu summoned Yuwenshuzhong and told him: "I have a top-secret matter for you and the Embroidered Uniform Guard to carry out."

Yuwenshuzhong didn't even ask what it was, and simply accepted the order: "Yes, Your Majesty!"

……

(End of chapter)