Chapter 252

…

Having successfully captured Hangzhou and presented three beauties—Shao Shi, Fang Baihua, and Chen Miao Zhen—as tribute, Song Jiang could finally set off for Dongjing Bianliang to meet Zhao Yu.

He temporarily entrusted his troops to Lu Junyi, Guan Sheng, Lin Chong, and others, gave them final instructions, then departed Hangzhou with three hundred elite cavalry and Shao Shi, Fang Baihua, and Chen Miao Zhen.

After these battles, the streets of Hangzhou lay in ruins. Once the bustling capital of the Two Zhe Roads under the Zhao Song dynasty, the southeastern heart of politics, economy, and culture, it had become eerily desolate.

Shops were shuttered; silks and brocades in fabric stores had been looted clean; tables, chairs, and benches in taverns and teahouses were broken and scattered; occasionally, ragged refugees could be seen, their eyes hollow, clutching cracked bowls as they rummaged through rubble, searching for a single mouthful of food.

The once soft Wu dialect had been replaced by children's cries and elders' sighs; the once fertile land of fish and rice had turned bleak, as if life itself had been drained away, leaving only a desolate wasteland.

Originally, Song Jiang felt nothing about this, for over these past three years, wherever he went, it always became like this.

In truth, the destruction wrought by Song Jiang's rebel army was hardly less than that of Fang La's. Wherever they passed, smoke rose in all directions, livelihoods collapsed, villages reduced to shattered walls and fallen beams, fields lay barren, cattle and sheep scattered, chickens and dogs silent, and behind every locked door, families hid in fear of war and despair for the future.

Having witnessed such things too often, Song Jiang had naturally grown numb.

Until Song Jiang's party arrived at Xiuzhou, just twenty-some days after they had left it.

Song Jiang was stunned to find officials leading laborers in spring plowing and clearing the canals.

Though many locals still bore a sallow hue, here, dead bodies—so common along the roads of Hangzhou—were nearly gone.

As they traveled further, Song Jiang learned the reason.

Upon entering Xiuzhou's state boundary, every three to five li there stood a porridge distribution point.

—Though the porridge was not particularly thick, anyone who came received a large bowl; after drinking it, one could certainly feel five or six-tenths full.

Additionally, every few li stood a medical tent, where barefoot doctors and attendants sat; anyone who fell ill received free treatment and free medicine.

Beside each porridge point and medical tent hung notices and explanatory officers recruiting laborers.

The court was recruiting laborers for farming, infrastructure, and miscellaneous tasks; the notices clearly stated that wages were paid daily, and paid upfront; crucially, wages were fair, with three options: payment in cash only; payment in grain only; or half cash, half grain.

In short, anyone who answered the call could immediately eat their fill—and not just themselves, but their families too.

Even more moving to Song Jiang, the court recruited not only adult men, but women and even children.

Song Jiang even saw textile factories recruiting women only.

Song Jiang estimated that if an entire family went to work, they could easily live a comfortable, middle-class life.

The farther north Song Jiang's party traveled, the more evident the recovery became.

By the time they reached Suzhou, it seemed the city had already emerged from the fires of war. The people's faces no longer bore the numbness, hopelessness, and corpse-like emptiness they had shown before.

With all local gentry, landowners, and their colluding officials purged, and with the successful implementation of the "Equal Taxation for Gentry and Peasants" and "Land Tax Merged into Land Area" policies, the common folk here began to radiate unprecedented vitality and vigor.

In the fields, spring plowing blazed with intensity; peasants sweated profusely yet beamed with hope for the future, their laughter echoing across the farmlands—a symphony of renewed hope for life.

In the marketplace, merchants' calls rose and fell in a lively din.

In fabric stores, though goods had not yet returned to their former abundance, colorful silks now appeared, drawing women to pause and choose; their eyes sparkled with longing for a new life.

Taverns and teahouses had reopened; literati and poets debated loudly; the scent of tea and wine wove together into vivid scenes of urban life.

Factories—textile, cement, bearing, and many others previously established only in the north—were now being built in Suzhou.

Everywhere, busy figures bustled with vibrant energy; craftsmen sweated as they erected new factories on open land; the roar of machinery mingled with shouts of workers, sounding the opening notes of industrial rise.

These factories not only provided massive employment opportunities locally but injected powerful momentum into economic recovery.

Of course, traces of war remained in some places—broken city walls and charred houses silently recounting past disasters—but they now resembled footnotes of history, gradually submerged by the thriving present.

One could imagine: in no more than five years, or as little as two or three, Suzhou would again be among the most prosperous cities of the Zhao Song dynasty, its economic flourishing and cultural brilliance once more leading the southeast and drawing the gaze of the entire realm.

To be honest, when Song Jiang first agreed to raise rebellion, he did so mainly to pursue his political ambitions through unconventional means; "upholding heaven's will," "serving the nation and people"—these were merely convenient justifications he invented to legitimize his killings and arson.

Later, Song Jiang simply made surpassing Huang Chao his personal goal.

As for "great destruction before great construction," Song Jiang had only spoken the words—he never truly believed them.

Yes.

Song Jiang had heard that in the north, the gentry and landowners had been slaughtered, and after the court implemented its two new policies, the north experienced great reconstruction.

But Song Jiang had never returned to the places he had burned, looted, and slaughtered; he dared not face the villages and towns his forces had trampled, haunted by an indescribable guilt and urge to flee.

Only now, witnessing firsthand that great destruction truly led to great reconstruction, did Song Jiang realize Zhao Yu was not fooling around—he was truly wagering everything to eradicate the Zhao Song dynasty's hidden threats.

Now the facts proved Zhao Yu had won the bet; after this great destruction and reconstruction, the Zhao Song dynasty could not claim eternal rule, but as long as future emperors were not disastrous and no great natural or human calamities struck, the Zhao family could enjoy another two or three hundred years of imperial rule.

Continuing northward, Song Jiang felt this truth more deeply with every step.

When they reached Zhenjiang, Song Jiang did not press further north; instead, he wisely paid a visit to Accompanying Tong Guan and brought him generous gifts. Don't ask where Song Jiang got these things—he had looted his way here, and even after handing over spoils, he must have kept some stash.

Moreover, Song Jiang had just captured Hangzhou, a city nearly second only to Dongjing Bianliang in luxury; presenting Accompanying Tong Guan a gift worthy of his taste was surely an easy and pleasant task.

Moved by these gifts, Song Jiang's deference, and Zhao Yu's high regard for him, Accompanying Tong Guan received Song Jiang warmly and even volunteered that he had dispatched Liu Fa from Xuanzhou and Huzhou through the mountainous routes of western Zhejiang, directly striking Shezhou, then advancing on Fang La's stronghold, Muzhou; Song Jiang's forces, meanwhile, would follow Fang La's retreating path along the Fuchun River and Xin'an River straight toward Muzhou, encircling Fang La's core members from east and west, eliminating their spiritual leader Fang La, leaving his army leaderless and fragmented, to be crushed one by one.

Song Jiang replied that he and his rebel army fully obeyed Accompanying Tong Guan's orders; his troops were currently resting, and once rested, they would secure the Fuchun and Xin'an River routes; after meeting the Emperor, he would launch a full-scale assault on Muzhou.

Song Jiang's first meeting with Accompanying Tong Guan went exceedingly well.

Accompanying Tong Guan also told Song Jiang much about Zhao Yu's preferences, so he might avoid mistakes during his audience and leave a better impression.

After finishing official business, Accompanying Tong Guan clapped his hands, and over three hundred women—more precisely, young girls—were brought in.

These three hundred young girls shared one trait: they were beautiful, each one stunningly beautiful.

Yet they differed: some were gentle as quiet streams in Jiangnan's countryside, their eyes soft with misty tenderness; others were spirited like early spring gladioli, radiating undeniable vigor; still others were ethereally elegant, like orchids in a secluded valley, untouched by dust, unforgettable at first glance.

Seeing so many young beauties summoned by Accompanying Tong Guan, Song Jiang was startled; his first thought was that Accompanying Tong Guan intended to gift him these women.

But the thought vanished instantly from his mind.

Who was Accompanying Tong Guan? He was Song Jiang's superior, Zhao Yu's favorite and confidant, a high official of the Zhao Song dynasty—how could he possibly gift Song Jiang presents?

Besides, even if Accompanying Tong Guan were to bestow beauties, one would suffice, perhaps two at most—three hundred? How could Song Jiang possibly handle such a thing?

Thus, Song Jiang concluded these young women were not meant for him.

Thinking again of whom Accompanying Tong Guan usually collected beauties for, it became obvious to whom these girls were destined.

Soon, Song Jiang's guess was confirmed.

Accompanying Tong Guan said: "Many among them are daughters of Jiangnan gentry and landowners who, admiring Your Majesty, voluntarily petitioned to serve him in the palace, coming to me for aid; moved by their families' sincerity, I have done them a kindness and granted their request."

The moment Song Jiang heard this, he understood: the gentry and landlords of Jiangnan had conceded defeat. This was their way of showing submission to Zhao Yu—by sending their outstanding daughters to him—pledging to serve Zhao Yu from now on, no longer daring to obstruct the two new policies, and pledging to fully cooperate with Zhao Yu in governing the Zhao Song dynasty, begging Zhao Yu to show mercy and let them off.

Truth be told, Song Jiang felt quite vindicated.

Song Jiang knew the whole story from beginning to end. He was well aware that Zhao Yu had been pushed to the wall by the gentry and landlords, left with no choice but to make a desperate move—using tough men to sweep away the obstacles.

Do you think that was easy?

It is no exaggeration to say that Zhao Yu was gambling with the fate of the Zhao Song dynasty, and even with his own safety.

To be honest, had the Zhao Song dynasty not already reached the end of the dynasty, with all manner of contradictions piling up like dry tinder awaiting a single spark, the slightest misstep would have meant no return.

And these gentry and landlords, entrenched in their ways, used the name of conservatism to obstruct the new policies and line their own pockets, leaving the people destitute and the national treasury empty.

Were it not for this, Zhao Yu, who bore the weight of the state, would never have lightly staked the nation's fate on the gambling table. And Zhao Yu, whose life was happy and fulfilling, would never have staked his own safety on it either.

When all was said and done, every bit of this had been forced by these gentry and landlords.

Now, even if Zhao Yu had not won the gamble outright, he was not far from total victory.

It was only to preserve their wealth and glory that these gentry and landlords surrendered to Zhao Yu, even going so far as to send their daughters as a token of their submission.

"This is what Your Majesty deserves!"

Suddenly, Song Jiang spotted a little girl of only about ten years old, and was startled: "This child has been used by her family as a political transaction too?!"

Accompanying Tong Guan followed Song Jiang's gaze—how could he fail to guess what Song Jiang was thinking? He said with a smile: "Besides the daughters of gentry and landlords, among them are also many daughters of convicted officials. I am sending them to attend Your Majesty; perhaps their families may thereby receive a pardon and rise again—who can say it is impossible?"

Hearing Accompanying Tong Guan say this, Song Jiang understood.

Jiangnan had suffered such tremendous damage; many places had been captured by the rebel armies.

Officials have the duty to hold their territory.

Those officials who put up weak resistance, those who abandoned their cities and fled, those who missed the moment for battle—all would surely be punished, and even their families would be implicated: the men exiled, the women sent to the Entertainment Bureau.

Accompanying Tong Guan had picked out some officials he wanted to give a hand to, and was sending their daughters to Zhao Yu.

Of course, there must also be some who were chosen by Accompanying Tong Guan simply because they were exceptionally beautiful.

Accompanying Tong Guan looked at the little girl of about ten that Song Jiang was watching and said: "Her surname is Liang. Her grandfather and father were both military commanders. When Fang La rose in revolt and quickly swelled to several hundred thousand men, overrunning prefectures and commanderies one after another, our imperial troops failed time and again in their campaigns. Her grandfather and father both suffered defeat for missing the moment for battle in the suppression of Fang La's rebellion. By rights they should have been executed on the spot, but His Majesty, in his mercy, punished them lightly. Yet though the death penalty could be remitted, the living punishment could not be escaped: the men of her family were all exiled, and the women all sent to the Entertainment Bureau."

At this point, Accompanying Tong Guan pointed at this little girl—the very Liang Hongyu of history, the famed anti-Jin general, the heroine who beat the drums at Jin Shan, and the second wife of Han Shizhong—and said to Song Jiang: "Don't be fooled by her young age. From childhood she followed her father and brothers and trained a body full of martial skill; she is also well versed in brush and ink, and was born with divine strength, able to draw a strong bow, every shot hitting its mark. Your Majesty especially likes such extraordinary women. Once she grows up, she will most likely become a member of Your Majesty's personal guard. You must not neglect her."

Song Jiang saw it as clearly as a mirror in his heart: the reason Zhao Yu had dealt lightly with these offending officials was absolutely not mercy, but because these affairs were Zhao Yu's own doing in the first place—they were all somewhat wronged. Otherwise, just see whether Zhao Yu would show them any leniency.

Song Jiang looked again at Liang Hongyu and thought, "So His Majesty likes extraordinary women—I must remember this…"

……

(End of chapter)